For the most part, my kids love rock music. Sure there’s alternative rock, southern rock, hard rock, retro rock, you name it, there’s a rock; but they like a good peppering of all of it. And since the dawn of Guitar Hero, bands from my era have merged back into the mainstream – must have been made by some “old” guys…
Wait for it…
“Is that his real voice?! He sounds like a GIRL!”
-1-
While on the phone with his Grandmother the other day, Monkey made mention that the school was close enough he could walk to it. “No way” I said, shaking my head and interrupting him, “Not gonna happen”.
I’m not certain nutritious and snack bar can occupy the same phrase or sentence. You may refer to them as power bars, energy bars, breakfast bars or health bars. I just call it a snack bar. Usually, snack bars are too sweet for me, so I spent a good 30 min in the market Thursday looking at snack bar ingredients trying to find one that wouldn’t make me vomit after a workout. Most are loaded with sugar, doused in high fructose corn syrup, covered in chocolate, and or contain "enriched" grains… what part of that is healthy again?
-3-
O.K. girls – summer is nearly over and we’ll be trading our cute new sandals for warmer shoes soon. But please remember this one thought for next summer and every summer that follows it. If your heel is hanging off the back of your flip flop, your flip flop is too small.
-4-
I’m an average girl and by no means am I a saint; however, I can’t bring my self to throw trash on the ground. At Crüe Fest this past weekend I decided to chew a piece of gum. After placing the gum in my mouth while looking at a sea of pizza boxes, plastic cups, beer bottles, and various other pieces of garbage; I felt the irony as I tucked the tiny piece of wrapper into my pocket. I guess I'm just not that rebellious.
At the same afore mentioned concert, I turned and saw Monkey had his shirt over his nose and The Sasquatch had his face buried in the crook of his arm. When I asked them what was up, they replied they were trying to get some fresh air. They were cracking me up making strangled faces with accompanying sounds, and I had to smile. My kids are genuinely repulsed by cigarette smoke. Parenting, as every parent knows, isn’t the easiest task on the planet. But occasionally I do try to teach my kids something and it sticks – like glue. My kids hate _HATE_ to be around smoke. They hate the smell of it on their clothes, in their nose, and hate to smell it on other people. So chalk this one up for a Mom Victory!
On average, I head to Starbucks once every two weeks. Two things keep me from being there daily; their crazy expensive prices and the caffeine. Even if it is decaf and I drink it at 7 in the morning, the caffeine will keep me up late at night and I’m drained the next day; so I keep it to a minimum.
My “I’ll take care of it later” spot seems to breed when I’m not looking. One day it consists of a couple papers and the next there’s a mountain of crap falling into the floor. As a general rule of thumb, I like to keep my house picked up. Everything needs to be in its place, especially the couch pillows. They must be just so. And clutter is the enemy…except in the “I’ll take care of it later” spot.
Anything can go into the “I’ll take of it later” spot. Photos, keepsakes, homework, bills, junk mail, coupons, paint swatches, etc; I think I even found $5 bill once. And I’ll never understand why I can’t just toss junk mail the minute it comes into the house. I DO look at it when it comes in, and still I feel the need to put it in the “I’ll take care of it later” spot. This does not include the mail that goes on Lee’s desk. He has his own “I’ll take of it later” spot.
I did, however, notice my “I’ll take care of it later” spot has now become two “I’ll take care of it later” spots – one up stairs and one down stairs. Right after that, it dawned on me that I have an entire “I’ll take care of it later” room – it’s in the basement, so maybe I’m safe from invasion.
Earlier this summer we went to visit my sister in her new home. While relaxing in my float in the pool my nephew, Seth, came over and asked if he could sit with me. "Sure!" I said, and proceeded to help him into the float. "Ewww!" he cried ...
I hate to shop – for anything – absolutely hate it. Add to that the fact that customer service these days is a joke, and I’m a walking super nova waiting to happen.
After some grocery shopping, I needed to make a stop @ Home Depot. I had my list - ready to get my stuff and get out. Couldn’t find two items: Ridd-X and Cascade. This day, I was in a generally good mood considering my task at hand so I began my search.
Though I was minding my own business while diligently looking for my items, I must have looked like I needed help. Three employees, on separate isles, asked me if I needed help. “No thanks”, was my reply every time. What do I have a sign on my head that reads “HELP WANTED”, I thought.
After about 10 minutes of searching, and not finding either item in its logical location, nor anywhere else, irritation was beginning to set in. Another employee stopped me and asked if I needed help.
Employee # 4: “Need help?”
Ok – I’m a woman, I can ask for help if I need it.
Me: “Yes I’m looking for the Ridd-X?”
E4: “It’s in the plumbing section.”
M: “I checked. It’s not there.”
E4: “If we have it, that’s where it will be.”
M: “Um, ok, thank you.”
This same conversation occurred two more times. At least the last one did take the time to take me over to plumbing to show me it was there… it wasn’t.
Employee #6: “If we had it, it would be in this section.”
By now my patience is running thin. How in the world could Home Depot NOT have Ridd-X? Hello?!
Through no help of any employee I finally managed to find both the cascade AND the ridd-x. They were both hiding behind an ill-placed display on the cleaning isle - which is the first isle I looked.
So to all of you working in retail:
I’m cool if you don’t want to help me. I’m a big girl. I've worked in retail; I know how it is. But don’t ask me if I need help and then throw out some lame excuse because you really didn’t want to help in the first place. And learn where the junk is in your store, even if they move it. It will make you look a whole lot smarter.
Comedy is an essential part of our family structure. We are constantly joking around with one another and sometimes it’s quite hard to discipline when the laughter threatens to burst forth. That said; as the mother of two boys, I have learned to keep my eyes peeled. Practical jokes could come from anywhere at anytime, so it’s always beneficial to stay alert. Last week however, they got me good. All of my boys were in on it– when I say all, I mean my husband as well – the rotten scoundrel…
First to understand this prank, one must understand that I am an ice freak. Not 2 cubes, not 5 or 10, but all the way to the top – sometimes peeking over the edge – even after it’s filled with drink. And my world comes to an end if we are out of ice. The horror of drinking a beverage short of freezing is enough to send me over the edge.
Anyhow- it was lunch time in the Franklin House that day. I made my way upstairs to make a sandwich. Made my lunch, got my glass, waited for an eternity for the icemaker to spit out the last remnants it contained, was utterly excited when it was enough, filled it with water and sat down to eat lunch.
We were headed out that day so Lee and I ate while the kids changed into more acceptable clothes. We talked about our schedule for the day, if we were eating dinner out, the usual jargon couples discuss at random points during the day.
As I took my last bite, I yelled for the kids to get in the car. They usually find some reason to take 5 more minutes after I’m already in the car, so my objective was to get them into the car before me. This day they were running down the stairs immediately and I thought to myself WhooHoo, this might be a great day.
I put my plate in the dishwasher, sat my glass down and walked to the back to fetch my purse. While getting my purse I had the greatest thought, I’ll put my glass in the freezer to save the ice. I’m a genius! … and that’s when I saw it… there it was… floating somewhere near the bottom of my glass. My throat tightened a little … oh no … no no no … gag gag gag! There was a giant roach in my glass.
Let me tell you, it is amazing how fast your brain works. Like lightening speed – I saw it, panicked, cringed, gagged, had a light bulb go off, and wanted to kill my kids all in a span of like two seconds.
It was a plastic roach, thank the Sweet Jesus. My kids know I’m TER-RI-FIED, terrified I tell you, of roaches. Snakes, rats, spiders … bring ‘em on, but roaches are my nemesis. Lee tells me it was all he could do to keep a straight face while we ate lunch. But that’s ok – ‘cause there aint no pay-back like a mama's pay-back when shes been pranked!
