Sunday, May 27, 2012

Summer Bummer

"This sucks!" my sister said as she huffed and puffed and tried to jam her petite white foot into a red espadrille in Target's shoe section. "Ugh! My foot is always swollen now! It's so hard to find shoes!"
I just stated at her.
She stare at me.
I walked away and she hobbled after me laughing in what I hoped was an apologetic way.
If not, well, maybe she'll at least run over her other foot so they'll be evenly swollen.


Saturday, May 12, 2012

Language Barriers

"I didn't know! We don't all watch that 'Tims' channel!" my husband yelled to me from the bathroom doorway. We had just finished the horror flick (yes. It was THAT bad) "Harold and Kumar Christmas" which had a cameo in it with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner, David.
"How could you NOT know that was his real-life husband?" I shouted back. "And what is 'Tims'?!?!"
"Tims!" he repeated.
I stopped and stared.
"Do you mean 'TMZ'?"
"Yeah," he said, slowly shutting the bathroom doors to hide his shame. "Timssss."
"I can't tell if you're being funny or if you really thought it was pronounced like that," I said.
"I think it's better that way," he said and closed the doors on me, our conversation, and my hope that I had married him for his brains.


Thursday, May 10, 2012

Possibly Offensive Post

I think my kid is hilarious.
Not because of what he says or what he is necessarily even doing.
He just IS funny.
So when he got done painting the other day and looked up at me --- I couldn't help but burst out laughing. Some days I'm a good mom. Some days ---- I just pretend to be:

Monday, May 7, 2012

Don't Hate Me...

I found a white hair the other day.
I'm only 33!
I should NOT have white hairs!
So I've decided to grow old gracefully ---- or I could become the next face of Miss Clairol!
Bring on the color wheel and drippy bottles! Let's dye this bitch!!! :)

Friday, May 4, 2012

Artificial Sugars

I'm pretty sure the host from "Sweet Genius" on Foodnetwork is the secret love child of Dr. Evil and Greedy Smurf.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


Somehow my mother and father convinced me to come to their house for not one, not two, but THREE meals yesterday! Breakfast, lunch AND dinner!

My sister and her gorgeous daughter sprung for three pizzas (we like our pizza here in WV - it's like a four-course meal if you can get enough toppings for free on it!) so we gorged ourselves and then sat around digesting, waiting for the kids to either get in a fight or dissolve into hysterics of some sort or another.

My mother had the bright idea to turn on the stereo and blast her favorite Alan Jackson song "Chatahoochie" to which both Harry4 and Gillian started flashmob dancing! Not wanting to miss the action, my dear sister reached out and snatched the closest kiddo she could find. As her tiny chicken-pickin- fingers ensconced my son's middle, he looked at me in fear, which my sister, thinking he was wriggling with happiness at having being impaled by her rat claws, started bouncing around to the music, my helpless baby clutched in her arms. She bobbed to the music, swung him to and fro with her curls bouncing, all the while sitting in one of my mother's delicate dining room chairs.


"OH MY GAWD! MY FAT ASS BROKE THE CHAIR! I BROKE THE CHAIR! I BROOOOKE IIIIIT!" she screamed and finally let loose of my poor child who ran to me, sweaty but happy to be free.

Summer held up the wrangled piece of furniture as we all held our stomachs and laughed at her expense, trying desperately not to regurgitate the stuffed crust pizza we just stuffed into ourselves.

"I can't believe I broke the chair!" Summer said again.

"Finally!" I yelled. "Finally! Don't you remember when I was sitting in the bathtub, painting the wall and it DROPPED! I got out screaming 'MY FAT ASS BROKE THE TUB! MY FAT. ASS. BROKE. THE TUUUUUB!'???"

"Oh yeah," she said.

We all quietly reflected on the girth of our backsides while we wiped the tears from our reddened, hot faces.

"If I broke that chair, your mom would've killed me," my dad said and started laughing all over again.

"Shut up, Ben," Mom said, swatting him on the arm.

Summer left shortly after that incident but I'm sure the memory, and this blog post, will haunt her for all the rest of her days.

Now - who wants pizza???