Wednesday, 29 May 2013

I don't think 10% Tuesday applies to buying women...

Why Superdudes Really Wear Masks

 
I walk down the stairs and come upon a masked man of mystery watching cartoons on my couch... Imagine my surprise.
 
"What's the mask for?" I ask Kaelan.
 
"So I look good."
 

And the Award for Wierdest Shit
in the Livingroom goes to...

 
I'm having a chat with my Mom in the upstairs livingroom when Reece comes running in and skids to a stop.

"Wow," he says with those big blue eyes all wide. "I thought I saw a dwarf."

As my Mom was busy trying not to die holding in her laughter on the couch, I was left to ask (when you're seeing dwarves, there are CONCERNS).

"Excuse me?"

"I saw some black and thought it was a dwarf beard...but it was just the dog," he explained.

My Mom has tears dripping down her face now...but is still alive and unable to talk.

"It happens to the best of us," I tell him (sure - dwarf sightings EVERYWHERE, but honestly it was all I had).

"Yeah, it does," he nods solemnly.

It's a damn good thing he went back downstairs so my Mom could finally laugh before she peed her pants holding that in.


I Don't Think Gnawing on Yourself Replaces Vitamins
but I'm quirky that way


You know when you start having one of those innocent conversations with someone and it COMPLETELY goes to hell? Yeah, this is my life - all the time.

"Mom, I think I have some sniffles," Reece informs me as he's blowing his schnoze after Kaelan and I pick him up from a playdate.

 
"Oh darn. Maybe it's from playing outside in that damp grass with no shoes...or running outside into the rain without your coat," I TOTALLY sneak in a nag nag, 'cause that never gets old, right? "We have to be careful, hey bud."
 
"Especially you and me, right Mom? 'Cause we get sick so easy," he reminds me.
 
Man, it sounds like we're some frail, pasty waifs just waiting for the germpocalypse to waste us due to a sudden lack of Purell.
 
"Maybe we wouldn't get sick if we ate our livers," he suddenly throws out there.
 
Fuck that, I'd rather be sick than eat my own liver.
 
"Kaelan likes liver," Reece oh-so-helpfully points out (sarcasm: it's what gets some of us through the day).
 
There's this sudden GASP of horror from the backseat of the SUV.
 
"What's liver?!" shrieks Kaelan (because Oh My God it better not be a vegetable).
 
"It's meat," explains his brother.
 
"Oh! Yummy liver!" Kaelan cheers, completely relieved.
 
I'm totally confused and I have no idea where I went wrong...
 
Fuck it, I'm still not eating my own liver...or anybody elses.
 

Not Sure if Snorting Fruit Avoids Scurvy
(if you know - feel free to tell)


 
I pick up my oldest son from school and the end of his nose is black... As he's not what you'd call TOTALLY picky "appearance-wise"...sometimes it's easier to just ask what he's wearing.
 
SOMETIMES I should be more careful who I'm asking.
 
"Hey, what's that black stuff on your nose?" I ask him after he climbs in our SUV after school.
 
"It smells like watermelon," he tells me.
 
"Sooo, you're snorting the black watermelon when you won't eat the pink stuff?" I ask (I KNOW - I don't know where the hell it came from or why I ask. I have NO control).
 
"Yeah, it smells yummy," he tells me.
Snorting mystery fruit...is it snorting or is it huffing? Do you get vitamin points for this?

 

Things NOT to do in a Grocery Store


 
Here's my helpful tip for...well anyone out there who needs a pick up line NOT TO USE and a great spot NOT TO USE IT. Here you go - you're welcome.
 
I head to the grocery store and am minding my own business when I start getting followed by a much older, inebriated man...creepy.
 
I'm spotted and followed ALL over the store - stopped in the dairy section with a line I totally don't recommend for any drunken shopper.
 
"Hey, it's my birthday," wobbles said birthday-fellow. "You're very attractive."
 
"Well...happy birthday," I answer as I raced off.
 
Another tip for drunken grocery store stalkers...bathe...and maybe don't be drunk...and maybe don't stalk.
 
I really didn't understand the thought process for the birthday line (or the grocery store, honestly). You've got your ravioli, your toilet paper, and hey - look! There's a woman! Is she on sale, too? It IS 10% Tuesday... Can I afford her? What the hell, it IS my birthday!
 
I'm trapped again AT THE CHECKOUT with the same variation...somebody obviously believed the whole 'if at first you don't succeed' crap.
 
"It's just you're very attractive and it's my birthday," he reminds me.
 
Oh. My. God. Birthday cakes are elsewhere! WHY isn't this checkout thingy moving FASTER?
 
"Are you married?" he asks.
 
"YES, yes I am," I said very fast. I'd have sworn I was a three-headed alien out to conquer the earth for man eating Marigolds if it had gotten me out of that fucking checkout faster.
 
Finally I got my groceries and bolted.
 
Crikey, for the love of all that's sanitary in the grocery store - stalk sober...stalk elsewhere...stalk somebody else.

 

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

We may need a fact checker...

Don't be a Waster...or Else

 
Remember when you were little and parents would tell you to clean your plate - I mean eat ALL your food, not sit at the table and scrub it (this was totally before parents obsessed about chubbing up kids for anybody who wasn't around back then. SURPRISE! We had to eat our dinner, even if we didn't like it, FUCKING CRAZY!).
 
Anybody get the ol' "There are kids in Africa STARVING!" spiel? Nothing perks up the appetite more than the thought of starving children and flies...
 
FOR SHAME! I completely skipped that chapter of the Good Mommy Handbook (and the rest of it) so my kids didn't get that rant (I should really say YET...you never know).
 
Since we missed out on all that guilt I have NO IDEA where the following comes from...
 
My sons are killing the end of a bag of barbecue potato chips when Kaelan decides he wants a different snack. His brother suddenly turns to the non-waster-pursuasion with zeal. Reece begins a lesson on the trials and tribulations of others...
 
"You know, Kaelan, there are people in Africa that would give their right arm for what's left in that bag," Reece tells him as he waggles said bag temptingly (supposedly - if mutilation for snacks was TEMPTING).
 
"Eat my arm?!?" Kaelan shrieks, completely horrified (and totally confused).
 
"Some people do literally trade their right arm for what little food is left," Reece says...and I'm thinking aside from the faulty facts, maybe he has a future with Save the Children.
 
"Well, I am delicious," Kaelan admits.
 

I'll Have My Dressing
On the Side

 
It's a beautiful, sunny evening and we're having a barbecue in the backyard. The boys are busy playing when Reece comes running up to us with his hands full of bread, leaves and grass.
 
"Hey Dad, do you have a bowl?" he asks.
 
"For what?"
 
"For this salad for the birds," Reece explains.
 
Ahhh...wow, I totally did NOT see that coming.
 
"Just put it on the ground buddy," his Dad suggests.
 
"But I need to put some Ranch Dressing on it," Reece tells us.
 
We did convince him that birds didn't really like salad dressing...
but the croutons were marvelous.
 

Flying...It's for the Birds

 
Kaelan came home with these pictures, I told him they were beautiful...but I was WRONG (apparently). He told me they were flying instructions and read them to me.
 
Position 1: Spread out wings.
Position 2: Tail feathers.
Position 3: Spread out tail feathers.
Position 4: Take off and land.
Position 5: Cover back in tail feathers.
Position 6: Cover your wings, stick to your body.
 
"What are they for?" I asked.
 
"So I can teach Connor how to fly better," he explained.
 

Just the Facts Ma'am

 
My youngest son has so many thoughts running around in his head, sometimes those thoughts just have to POP right out. He is so smart...and he's a riot. Thank goodness for bladder control or I'd be SO embarrassed.
 
It was bedtime (or grownup time, or quiet time, or beer o'clock, or whatever time y'all call it). I had put my sons to bed, tucked them in, gave my hugs and kissies, sang my nighty night and all was fantastic in our world.
 
I'm all settled in the livingroom, watching TV when Reece comes running out from bed and skids to a stop in front of me.
 
"What's wrong buddy?" I ask.
 
"Did you know lizards and amphibians lay eggs?" he asks me.
 
"Really?"
 
"I just had to come out to tell you that fun fact, Mom."
 
He is the sweetest, smartest guy!
 

Tuesday, 14 May 2013

If you've got undies - you've got everything

At Least I've got my Underpants

 
We had a couple days of beautiful, HOT weather - then today was windy and shitty... Yeah, I'm totally not even going to pretty up the weather report because I'm NOT a fucking meteorologist. All I can say is at least I'm not outside in my underpants. I'm going to time travel for you and explain (because I'm awesome like that).
 
I hate being cold, I've said that one before as well. I'm just not built for it. No robust skiing, dog sledding, ice fishing...fuck that.
 
I had just starting dating my children's Dad at Halloween. We had been dating for awhile and it was (still) freaking cold out. I arrived at his house shaking (or maybe DYING from the cold) as he answers the door in his boxers.
 
"What's wrong?" he asks.
 
"I'm frozen!" I state the OBVIOUS, I'm shaking! I should be tucked in, snuggled, and given some booze from one of those large dogs with the whiskey barrels.
 
"It's not that cold," he tells me.
 
"Yes! It's cold outside," I argue, since OUTSIDE is colder than inside a warm house.
 
"No, it's not," he says as he steps outside the house in his BOXERS on a BUSY STREET, then comes right back in.
 
"See? It's not cold," he tells me in that guy-superior-tone (lighten up all men - when you're showing us up, there's a tone).
 
Okay, I'm not so sure about being told I'm a TOTAL WUSS - so I say "Do it again."
 
AND HE DOES... Does he not know me AT ALL? He steps outside in his boxers and flaps his arms (I'm going to say "flap his arms" cause jazz hands would be not manly) - and I lock the door...

With him outside.
 
On a busy street.
 
In his underwear.
 
But it's "not cold"....right?
 
"Is it cold now?" I ask through the door.
 
So now I'm back in the present. I'm looking at the shitty weather, thinking about feeling cold and I realize it could be worse. I could be outside in my underpants.
 

NOT Betty Fucking Crocker

 
I was SO positive today (feel free to insert "naive" here). I baked brownies and buns. Then I cooked supper. I was ON FIRE (that would be a "fire" of productivity and NOT that I stood too damn close to the stove - just saying).
 
Then I called my children for supper, just so they could throw the cold glass of reality upon me...
 
"Hey dudes, time to wash your hands! I made you a delicious supper!"
 
Reece walks into the kitchen, takes a look at the stove and raises his eyebrows.
 
"So...this goop, is it rice?"
 
Wow, someone is SO fired.
 
"No...it's stroganoff," I explain (AND I get bonus points for NOT being huffy).
 
Everyone's a fucking critic.
 
I get everyone to the table, then I bring their bowls to them and Kaelan takes a look at his food.
 
"Yay! Meatloaf!"
 
I. Fucking. Quit.
 
"It's stroganoff," I say slowly AND with AMAZING calm - considering it's in a bowl, on noodles and isn't in a loaf shape AT ALL.
 
"Oh! Yay! Stroganoff!" he cheers. Really, he's happy for anything that's not Cheerios or vegetables.
 
Is it beer o'clock yet?
 
 

Don't be a Waster

 
"Mom, I totally need some brads," Kaelan tells me.
 
Totally...something tells me my oldest son has been hanging out with his mother too much. Also, for those who don't know what brads are - they're little metal fasteners. Here's a picture!
 
"Didn't I just give you a bag of brads?" I ask.
 
"Yeah, but I don't want to waste mine."
 
I tried not to laugh...honest. But I was a total failure.
 
When I finally had control of myself I responded with "You're getting kind of greedy, aren't you?"
 
"What if I put this bowl in the sink?" he tries to bribe me with cleaning up his own fish cracker bowl...and I like it.
 
"Then I would totally give you some brads."
 
"Deal!"
 
Kaelan runs and puts his bowl in the sink, races back and asks "Now, where's my brads?"
 

A Questioning Mind...
Screw it - Where's the Wine?

 
"Hey Mom, what's rice made of?" Reece asks me while watching me cook.
 
NOOOO!!! He's my smarty pants! WHAT???
 
"Rice," I tell him (without crying - so bonus points to me).
 
"No, like what's it made of," he asks again.
 
"Rice," I repeat more firmly.
 
"Like bread or flour?"
 
Oh. My. God. I'm in Hell...
 
"Honest, it's RICE... It's a plant. Just...rice."
 

This Season I'll be Wearing...Stationary
and I'll Love it

 
My youngest son, Reece, is a big fan of all things shiny and sparkly.
 
In school today he made me a beautiful bracelet! ...I say beautiful because HE made it for me, not because I have a paper clip fetish (stay safe STAPLES).
 
Parenthood is totally fabulous and bitchin' when your kids love you and make you cute presents!
 
Parenthood is tricky and a bit of a bitch (which is ENTIRELY DIFFERENT and hysterically funny) when they catch on to your wily ways if you're not wearing said gifts...
 
Damn.
 
"You're not wearing your bracelet," Reece tells me with a concerned look on his face.
 
"Oh! I was cooking and I didn't want to get anything on it," I explain.
 
"It's metal and I can paint it...even your favorite color," adds the brilliant child who has thought of EVERYTHING.
 
There is NO escape...looks like Spring will be capris, tanks, flip flops and paper clips. I will be STYLIN'!... And loved.

Saturday, 11 May 2013

Ghostly Shit...It Will Blow Your Mind

Lock up Your Daughters

 
I may need to keep an eye out for angry fathers with fucking shotguns... I honestly didn't think this would be a problem this early - who knew?
 
My oldest son and I are doing our daily park-and-wait in the SUV for Reece to be done school. It's a beautiful sunny day! An omen? Pffft - get real.
 
Parked beside us is a shiny red van with a little girl in the backseat. My Mr. Smoothy Smooth strikes up a conversation with her. At first I was totally thinking "Yay! Spontaneous conversation! Way to go buddy!"
 
Honestly...yeah, we'll just let you see for yourself.
 
"Hi, I'm Kaelan. I'm 11-years old. You know, like 10 plus one," he tells her.
 
She smiles, he's ON FIRE. Then he barrels on with a one-sided steady stream of happy chatter (we don't exactly have the whole "taking turns in a conversation" thing figured out yet). She doesn't get in a single word.
 
"Well, I'm all done talking," he decides. "Tell your Mom you know me and I'm Kaelan and I'm 11."
 
Very smooth.
 
Just then the Mom-in-question comes out of the school with three other small children. So Kaelan introduces himself again.
 
"Hi, my name is Kaelan and I'm 11-years old. Your girl in the flower shirt knows me. She likes me," he informs her. Confidence...I like it.
 
"Oh, okay. Nice to meet you," the Mom says as she smiles and waves at him.
 
"Bye! Tell the Father that I like the daughters!" he yells, waving wildly at the van.
 
Oh damn...there goes our good impression. Ol' Mom has frozen in her tracks - gone from smiling to wide-eyed concern in a heartbeat. I'm desperately trying not to spontaneously combust from laughter (or pee my pants). I KNOW, I'm a shitty person.
 
What can we do? We just smile and wave...smile and wave.

 

Keep Away From Open Flames

 
My sons and I are having a fire in the backyard since it is SO lovely outside! We decided to cook hotdogs and marshmallows.
 
I stay close when they're cooking - as Reece is not what you'd call the most GRACEFUL fellow. This evening I was regretting just HOW close I was.
 
I hear this incredibly long fraaaaap!
 
"Oh my!" I gasp, looking at my child - half expecting to see a deflated, raisin-like version of his very own self.
 
"Excuse me," says Reece. "I guess a little gas is good for the fire."
 
Maybe too much gas...
 

Philosophy of an 11-Year Old

 
I've picked up both of my sons and we're almost back to our house. Kaelan is relaxed, head back, eyes half-closed, looking out the open window...
 
"Ahhh, the smell of stuffy air. The things that are moving, the tires," he says softly. "It's a living."
 

Cell Phones...Everybody's Got One

 
"Hey Mom, look at my new cell phone," Kaelan shows me this super cool paper-bag cell phone he's made as he climbs into our SUV after school.
 
I am VERY impressed...and I bet the rates on it are fabulous.
 
"He's been talking on it to Reece all day," his school aide tells me as she hands me his backpack.
 
Phone addiction... Wow, just like EVERYONE else with a cell phone!
 
"That is very cool bud!"
 
We're pulling out and on the way to Reece's school as he puts the phone up to his ear...
 
"Hey Reecie, it's Kaelan. You know, your best friend. The one you play with all the time."
 
Awwww!

 

Everybody Poops...I Read the Book

 
Sometimes people hit you with an idea that is so surprising you're like "What the Hell?" and then you think "Of course! That kinda makes sense...in a scary way."
 
Parenthood is like that...ALL the fucking time.
 
My sons and I are walking our tiny dog down the block and I get blasted with one of these WTH ideas.
 
Kaelan looks down at Daisy, then up at me. Then he says "If Daisy died she'd be a ghost - then we could visit all the time."
 
At first I was thinking WHAT? But then - HUH! I suppose IF a ghost was around you COULD, couldn't you?
 
Then Reece, my little voice of reason, says "But then you have to visit ghosts in the same place all the time, like the house they died in."
 
Damn, that sounds tricky now. OR kind of like a nursing home - RIGHT? Spectral Visiting Hours... Fucking A.
 
"No! What if they have to go potty?" Kaelan throws out there.
 
Shit...literally. I read the book, Everybody Poops. This is now totally out of my league.
 
So what do I do? I do what any responsible parent would do...
 
"Hey, look! There's the house! Who wants to watch a movie?"

Friday, 3 May 2013

Calorie Count on My Shoes...

A Little too Honest...

 
"I like to listen. Just not all the time." - Kaelan
 

Why Not Have NICE Shit Kickers?

 
We're on a trip out of province for a few days and today has been a LONG DAY. I brought my sons back the motel to chill for a bit, have a munch and relax.
 
I'm lying on the motel bed when I hear clomp, clomp, clomp...
 
"I don't know why, but I feel quite comfortable in heels," my youngest son tells me as he tromps around the room in my shoes.
 
Whoa...someone looks taller.
 
"I bet they used to use them to stomp stuff, right Mom?"
 
It took me a moment to find my tongue, but when I did I answered brightly "YES! I'm sure they did!"
 

Family Portrait Time

 
Our town had a blackout and it was AWFUL! I am SO not meant to be without power and all the spoiled electronic do-dads of the modern age.
 
Oh, it was all fun and games for the first few hours, but by the next day I was all enough of this shit.
 
My sons handled it fairly well. Kaelan had a few bouts of "Where is my iPad!", but later they both had a blast playing games and eventually drawing pictures.
 
The boys took turns having us pose for a family portrait. Kaelan went first and was SO SERIOUS as he drew us SO FAST!
 
Then it was Reece's turn. He is a lot more precise...taking his time. Then he gets a little concerned and looks up at his Dad.
 
"I added specks for hair so you didn't feel all left out in the hair department," he tells him.
 
Oh my God... I love that kid. He is so sweet.
 

How Stupid do You Have to Be?
I don't know...but I made it

 
I got a new pair of shoes! They are fabulous! I know, just what you want to hear - you're welcome.
 
I bust into my beautiful shoes and there are STAPLES in the bottom holding on a sticker that looks like instructions. What the Hell?
 
I remove the staples and I'm thinking "If you don't know the top, bottom, and inside of the shoe - go barefoot because you are too stupid for the shoes."
 
Little did I know, I WAS THE STUPID ONE! Apparently the instructions are what your shoe is MADE of - who knew? Well, Google knew (that bastard knows everything). I guess there are vegans out there who don't want to eat their shoes in an emergency if they have leather in them - so WALLA! Shoe ingredients!
 
What I want to know is this...why is there no calorie count included?