I Will Learn to Whistle

So I went on an outing yesterday. This is unusual behavior for me because I don’t like getting dressed or people.

One of my best friends called me early in the day and I guess because I wasn’t really awake yet I agreed to her scandalous plan of riding in the van of someone I barely know to a town far away for the entire day. It could have been disastrous.

On the long ride I learned that my close friend whom I have known since the second grade “really likes the smell of diesel.” But she’s pregnant, so really “diesel” could have been any other word. At one point she said, “those things, on the sides, that hold clothes together?” and I said, “yes, the seams” and she said, “yeah, the seams and the material that’s made from a plant?” And I said “cotton” and it was like this crazy guessing game all day long because apparently the baby she is carrying has stolen her words.

The driver of the van was a nice lady who I kind of know but I had never put my life in her hands before and by that I mean I had never ridden in her van while she drove. She did okay except at one point she exclaimed, “I’m really not this bad of a driver, it’s just this squash.” And then proceeded to pull a giant squash out from under her feet.

squash

We went first to a repair shop where the pregnant lady and I refused to pee so we danced around madly in the parking lot holding our vaginas. Just kidding. We waited sedately in the van and bitched about how bad we had to pee.

Then we went to a thrift store that sold giant pairs of mens underwear and smelled like the customers looked, which was dirty and kind of poopy.

After that we went to Walmart just for a minute and I learned a new trick from an unkempt-looking lady standing in the front of the store. As we walked past her she put her hand to her mouth and whistled an ear-piercing whistle. From somewhere in the depths of the store came an answering whistle and I surmised that these not smart looking people had devised a genius plan. I will never again search a Walmart for my loved ones. Instead, I will learn to whistle and it will be amazing and effective. Also, I guess I should not assume that people who smell bad are not that smart because obviously these stinky people have street smarts or at least grocery store smarts and who am I to judge. Maybe I smell bad. (I don’t. I don’t smell bad at all.)

Lastly we went to TCBY because my pregnant friend was having a meltdown for some frozen yogurt and I asked what did TCBY stand for and they said “Thank Goodness It’s Yogurt” and I said okay, that makes sense. Once we were inside I got some samples that were just adorable and if you haven’t had tiny samples of yogurt in tiny little cups you haven’t lived. It was good, even though my pregnant friend told the yogurt man that he could “surely do better than that” after she saw her cone.

It was a fun day full of learning about people and squash.


Shit My Family Says To Me, Again

Well, I survived another Halloween. In protest, I attended two fall festivals sans makeup and hair styling. I thought if anyone asked I would say I was dressed as a frazzled mother with too many festivals to attend, but no one asked. I did however get mistaken for a sorority sister. That makes me think that the girls who hosted the festival must be heavy partiers and are often seen about town looking next-morning-rough.

In other news, my family has come through for you guys yet again, by way of constantly harassing me and giving me grief.


I tried to tell my son that I was funny and he didn’t believe me.

Me: I have over 2000 followers on my blog.

Thing 2: Stop it. You do not.

Me: Yes. Yes I do. Because people think I’m funny.

Thing 2: The funniest thing you ever said to me is what you just said.


My husband and I were discussing handwriting analysis.

Me: According to my handwriting, I have about five different personalities.

Him: I think at least two of them don’t like me.

Me: *chortles* I have to write that down!

Him: I like how I gave you ample time to dispute that, but you didn’t.

Me: …cause I think you’re right.


Trying to convince my oldest son that I am the coolest mom he knows.

Me: I’m awesome and you know it!

Thing 1: Yeah, if by “awesome” you mean “hard to love.”


Pedi Egg


Halloween is Stupid.

Halloween, I’ve decided, should be an adult-only holiday. As a parent, Halloween is just a giant pain in the ass. Kids stuffed into costumes that are itchy or tight or too hot or too cold, driving to a subdivision and then walking for miles in the freezing cold to get candy that I’m either going to sneakily eat myself or throw away because it’s “bad.”

And I didn’t have it any better as a kid.

In this picture, I had just cried out, “Don’t hurt him, Pop!” But I was talking about the pumpkin, not my little brother who is clearly about to lose a hand.

pumpkin carving

And here’s me as the saddest black cat you’ve ever seen:

sad costume

Or maybe I was supposed to be a pumpkin. I’m not really sure what the hell that was.

Then there was the year of the butterfly. As far as I know, no pictures exist of The Butterfly Costume.

That year my mom bought a yard of the most beautiful, shiny fabric for my wings. Then, instead of making me wings, she draped the fabric over my shoulders and sent me on my way. I was a kid in black tights wrapped in a yard of satin, more cocoon than butterfly.

I believe that same year my brother wore, taped to his chest, a piece of yellow paper from a legal pad with an ‘S’ drawn on it.

Then you’ve got pumpkin carving. I always start out with such high hopes. Then I spend an hour pulling gooey strings out of 5 pumpkins and I remember that I hate pumpkin carving. This year my oldest kids didn’t even participate and my youngest spent most of the time crying because we wouldn’t let her use a knife.

Next you try to actually carve the damn things and realize that pumpkins were not meant to be carved.  They are hard and dangerous and I don’t even know why this is a thing. When you’re finally done, your pumpkin ends up looking like the jackass no one wants to hang out with and the other pumpkins are giving him the side eye.

Guess which one's mine.

Guess which one’s mine.

Before kids, I used to leave haunted houses laughing and shrieking as the chainsaw-wielding clown chased us out. The last haunted house I went to, I had a kid wrapped all the way around me and I was literally yelling at the actors to “LEAVE US ALONE! WE ARE DONE HERE!” I almost got into a fight.

This week at school my daughter gets to dress up EVERY DAY. The school wants me dead, I just know it. She’s already been to one Fall Festival and has two more left. The boys have parties to attend. And of course Friday we will load up and go trick or treating.

If Halloween were just for adults, I would have exactly one event to attend. I would only worry about my husband’s costume and whether or not it was offensive. I would drink beer by a large fire and not eat any candy. I wouldn’t knock on a single door or attend any Fall Festivals.

I wouldn’t hear my children laugh as they dunk for apples. I wouldn’t take a picture of my daughter smiling proudly by three half-assed jack o’lanterns. I wouldn’t pick my oldest up from a party and listen to him laugh about all the fun he’d had. I wouldn’t hear a sweet little voice say, “Trick or Treat!” and “Thank You!” at every house. I wouldn’t watch them dump their candy bags in the floor for inspection and theft. *sigh*

At least there’ll be candy.

Are you dressing up this year? What was the worst Halloween costume you ever wore?

 


How I Found Out I Wasn’t the Smartest Person Ever

When I was a little kid, I was a big nerd. You may be saying, “But, Steph, you are still a big nerd.” Well, you’re right, but I was an even bigger nerd as a kid.

I was also an Army brat and when I was in the third grade we were stationed in Virginia.

Now, I was smart and I knew I was smart cause I’d been in special classes for smart kids. When we moved to Virginia my parents upped the ante and sent me to a special school for smart kids.

I. Was. Pissed. Number one because my brother and all my friends and neighbors got to go to the regular school, number two because my bus ride was really long, but most importantly because I WASN’T THE SMARTEST KID ANYMORE. It was ridiculous.

I was used to getting the highest grades without even trying. Now you’ve got me here reading my Christopher Pike and these kids are devouring The Hobbit. I was out-nerded! I couldn’t stand it.

Christopher-Pike

We switched classes, just like in high school. I hated that. The teachers all wore high heels. I really hated that. I had to do actual work. I really, really hated that.

I would like to tell you that I learned a lesson in how important hard work is and how I struggled to the top of my class and even became class president and made the teachers stop wearing such offensive footwear, but that would be a lie.

Instead I became depressed and cried everyday until my parents finally took pity on me and sent me back to public school where my academic excellence and lackadaisical study habits were received warmly with many ribbons and A+’s.

Don’t judge me. I was nine.*

*I’d do the same thing today.

Were you a nerdy kid? Did you ever feel like you got thrown into the deep end and couldn’t swim? For that matter, did anyone actually throw you in the deep end when you couldn’t swim? I’ve heard that’s a thing.


Search Term Tuesday

Yes, I know it’s not Tuesday, but Search Term Tuesday just has a special ring to it.

search

Sometimes I like to look at the searches that lead people to my blog. People go to Google with serious questions, and Google sends them here where there are no answers. It is sometimes sad and always bizarre.  Here are my top ten favorite searches.

1. Grandmother I’ve pissed myself on purpose – I’m trying to decide who peed. Did grandma pee? Are you trying to figure out how to tell grandma you peed? Commas are important, people.

2.Peeing on myself in the store – obviously, I need to stop talking about pee so much.  Google apparently thinks I’ve cornered the market on accidents.

3. How husbands fuck a maid  – I’m guessing the regular way? I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.

4. Walmart fight I’m next in line – We all know Walmart is a dangerous place.

5. I peed – And we’re back to the pee.

6. Crap my mom says – Now this actually makes a little sense.  If it was one of my children.

7. I pick up hookers tee shirts – I PICKED UP ONE HOOKER!  ONE!

8. Free sex stories of my mom fucked my pet snake – I don’t even.

9. I saw my husband fucking our maid and I did tell them – I feel like my maid story was not helpful to you. Again, my apologies.

10. Why Doberman hump strangers – A question for the ages. Actually, according to my commenters, it’s a dominance thing. You are that dog’s bitch.

What’s the weirdest place Google has led you? Have you ever searched for something just knowing the results were going to be awful? Do you think Grandma peed or what? Let’s not ever speak of the snake one, ever again.