2009: What a Ride . . .

Every year brings about changes. You can never say this year was just like last year. And don't even get it in your head that next year is going to be just like this year - good or bad.

Looking back on 2009, this blogger has seen a lot of changes.

Let's see, I started the year off as "The Laughing Idiot" and while it's a very appropriate, I'm not the only idiot out there. So Pollyanna emerged as the one who could see the the bright side of most situations (otherwise you all just didn't hear about it), even those including her own dorkiness.

What?

You don't remember how big a dork I am?

You don't remember the time I opened the umbrella on myself? In the car?

Or the time I tried to use a toaster oven at work? Or the time I ate greasey chips while reading a weight watchers magazine?

And I'm not the only one out there.

Hubby eating watermelon?

The people at the Kindergarten Readiness meeting? Sometimes I wonder why you don't have to get a government issued license to have children.

Speaking of Kindergarten, the biggest change for us was realizing that our oldest baby was smart enough to rhyme, old enough to lose teeth and tall enough to be mistaken for a school ager. So, bitter-sweetly, we went ahead and sent her off to Kindergarten.

This year our carpets smell fresher than last year - at least they did for a few days after Stinkles squirted toothpaste all over them.

I've learned several things this year too (and once you learn them, you don't generally unlearn them so I'll have to learn something new next year).

I've learned:

• Making fried rice at home is not as easy as it looks in a Chinese or Japanese restaurant.


• Willis Tower is the most visited attraction in Chicago.


• A 10X12 tent does not fit very well in a 11X11 space.


• I am calendar challenged.

One of the most awesome things from this past year that will probably never happen again - Oprah's people called me! It probably won't happen again because I'm not really all that interesting now that they've actually talked to me.

And she's going into her final season.

*pouting*

Oh well, 2010 should be interesting. With my random acts of dorkdom, my own family's idiosycracies, and everyone around me doing and saying and singing the funniest stuff, we're all sure to learn something new.

Or have a good chuckle at the very least.

Silver Lining:

1. Most of you have been with me throughout 2009 - thanks for hanging out.


2. Cheers to all of you staying on the ride with me as I travel through 2010.

This is What Happens When You Drink an Entire Bottle of Wine By Yourself

Random Tuesday Thoughts couldn't come at a better time, because I am less than coherent and totally on a random path.

So let's just go.

Boobs.

I've got big ones. Seriously, I could end up with black eyes if I tried to run a spint. Someday, I'm going to get a boob-ectomy, but for now, I'm stuck with the big ones that take up waaaaaaay too much room in my shirts. It is quite the bummer because I could breast feed using only one position - the football hold. You literally hold your baby like you're tucking a football. The timing of this conversation was totally ironic because we're totally watching da Bears vs the Vikings right now.

I seriously hope the the Vikings lose. Not just because I'm from Green Bay and am totally pissed that Favre left to go the Jets then on to a rival team. But because I just watched the movie Kicking and Screaming with Mike Ditka and I really want him to have a good night with da Bears winning.

Good thing there is spell check. You guys should have seen that previous paragraph prior to spell check. There are words like "totaltally" and "pised" and "MOVIE".

Also, it's a good think I'm wearing waterproof Mary Kay Ultimate Mascara. I keep laughing, and tears are forming in the corners of my eyes. I'd be a raccoon if it wasn't waterproof.

That's really hard for me too, wishing da Bears a victory. Being from Green Bay makes it really hard to root for either da Bears or the Vikings. It's like ripping my heart out. Unless you've been there, you just have no idea.

The Wine Bar has the best Shrimp Parmesan dip. It's wonderful because they serve it with warm French bread. It's super crusty and there is no just taking a bite right off the baguette. You would end up with way too many unladylike crumbs on your boobs. Unless you're flat chested. Being as I have big boobs, I would have the crumb problem. To be ladylike (aside from the snortful, drunken laughter), I broke up the baguette.

The Wine Bar has a huge full length mirror directly across from the toilet in the ladies room. If you're a "wide wiper", you can look at your pretty parts. I'm not sure if it's the same in men's room. I didn't go check it out. Really, what would be pretty about that?

Dang it, a Bear just got hurt. Look out! Mama bear is upset. I can't have them hurt; it might ruin their lead. Mama bear - that hurts too. But it's better than being a Viking.

Seriously, I do not have a single pretty picture of a Viking woman in my head. They'd all be named Helga - Helga Favre. Not a pretty part. A bear is really a much better picture - sad.

Well, that's it for my random thoughts. For the guys, let's end on the same note as we began.

Boobs.

Silver Lining:

1. While the Vikings and da Bears were playing in cold, cold, cold Chicago, no one's armpits were showing signs of emitting steam. That would have been weird and wrong.


2. The Wine Bar is only a quarter mile from home so you can leave during a commercial and still make it home in time to make fun of the Vikings without missing a play.


3. Keely's got lots more people with coherent random thoughts. Perhaps, you should pop over there. Click here, or on the purple button all the way back at the top of the page.

Christmas Is . . .

Wishing everyone the Merriest Christmas ever!

Besides the obvious (and by obvious, I mean the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ, not Santa and presents), what does Christmas mean to me? Well, you all are in luck because I plan to tell you.

Mistletoe. A bell hangs from the bottom of ours. We like to stand under it and ring the bell so someone notices and gives us a kiss. Good thing there is a bell because standing under the mistletoe loudly saying (Will Farrell style), "I'm standing under the mistletoe. The mistletoe has someone standing under it. Hello people, mistletoe stander here." Well, that would just be weird.

Extra days off work. Not that they are really days off. The kids get up at six in the morning because they don't understand the concept of sleeping in on a day off. Then, there is the cooking, shopping, housecleaning, etc. that you feel you must do while on vacation. I don't know anyone who takes time off work and actually loafs around their own house. Most of the time we pay good money to travel someplace in order to act like a bump on a log in the name of being on vacation. Never mind the fact that if you were disciplined enough you could do it at home for FREE!

Risking your dignity in order to get the very last, "I must have it" present. We've all been there. Everyone out there has tried to make a child's dream come true at some point.

Return lines for all those thanks-but-that's-not-what-I-wanted-you-should-have-done-a-gift card items. I really don't like giving gift cards. But forcing someone to stand in line to return an item, get a store credit and have to stand in line to buy what they really want just doesn't seem very Christmas-y. A gift card just expedites the process. I actually like getting a gift card for places I don't normally shop for myself. It forces me to do something for me.

Yuletide carols. What is a yule? I jumped away to look that up (not that you could tell) - apparently, it has something to do with a 12 day hunt that occurred around this time of year in good ole Germany. I wonder if that hunt yielded dancing ladies, drummers drumming, golden rings and a partridge in a pear tree too.



Cupie. The sparkle in her excited eyes rivals any star in the sky. She's a rare creature who will insist you tickle her more which I happily indulge in just to hear her laughter.

Hubby. Without my husband there is no Christmas. Not because he gets me a lot of presents. He is my champion, he is my soul mate. He is the killer of spiders, the disciplinarian of children, the believer in Reagan-omics. God brought Hubby to me, and I accepted His gift with all my heart. There is no Christmas without my husband because there is no Christmas without God.

Ringing bells announcing the beginning of church services. I know they are rung before every service, but on Christmas, they just sound a little richer, bolder, truer.

Iridescent sheen on fancy stuff - clothes, ornaments, napkin rings. Twinkly lights shining through the light layer of snow.

Stinkles. With hair that is a deeper and more beautiful red than any Christmas bow, she has the passionate personality to match. It's that passion I love so much. Her stubborn attitude is the one that insists that she's not tired even though she's falling asleep standing up. And it's the one to force me to set aside the need get out the door for the appointment I'm already late for in order to snuggle for a couple of minutes.

Time with friends. We had a progressive dinner recently. It only took us five or six hours to "have dinner", but it is a highlight each year. Yes, there is A LOT of food. But making the time for conversation, laughter, and enjoying the company you're with is an important part of the feeling of Christmas.

Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters - family. Then, there is the extended family. And the friends who might as well be family. Wow, the house can get pretty full! Much better than the alternative. May we all be able to spend this time of year with someone.

Astronomical budget bleeding. I can't help it!

Struttin' around in your giant pink bunny suit, or what ever obnoxious article of clothing your weird aunt _____________(insert the name of your choice here)made you this year. It's more fun to strut around like a proud peacock than to sulk in a corner. Have fun with it!

Silver Lining:

1. In a world full of sin, God sent his only child to die for our sins.


2. I don't think we need anything more than that. Merry Christmas everyone!

Fast Cash

Yes, I know I've been absent for awhile - sorry. I've been very busy and not my usual chipper self, but I've got a little giggle for you today.

Have you seen these ads on TV: "Send us your gold and we'll send you a check." They show a pile of glitz. Then, a person with a goofy, fake surprise look and and fistful of cash pops up.

I've often thought, who in their right mind is going to blindly send off their jewelry that is potentially worth a fistful of cash? Must be a scam.

I don't know about the places on TV, but apparently, there is a local place that buys gold for cash. A girlfriend of mine just traded in some broken chains, earrings that were missing the match, rings she doesn't wear, etc. She watched the entire time as a balding guy behind the counter scrutinized her offerings under a magnifying glass, weighed the acceptable pieces, punched some numbers into a calculator and handed her a wad of cash!

This morning, I eagerly went through all my jewelry in anticipation of a lunch time adventure.

Amongst other pieces, I had:

• a broken chain necklace


• a bracelet I had gotten from a boyfriend sixteen years ago


• various single earrings


• the original setting for my engagement ring


• and a ring that I couldn't where it came from

It was a pretty ring with a tear-drop shaped opal offset by a couple of diamond dust chips. I was still looking at it, wondering where I had gotten it, when Hubby came to check out the loot.

"Where did you get that?"

"I was just wondering that myself."

Then, it hit me.

"Oh, yah. The other Knuckle-head gave that to me."

The other "Knuckle-head" was a guy I dated before Hubby and happens to have the same first name as Hubby.

He was such a jerk, when I decided to break up with him, I refused his phone calls for an entire day while I filled about half of one of those blank journals with all his short comings. When I was finished writing about how much of a jerk he was, I called him over to my place, sat him down (I remained standing) and read him passages from the journal. I even made him wait while I said, "And another thing, hold on I need to find it," so I could find the right page. I made sure he knew why I broke up with him.

Cold? Perhaps. But that jerk still had the nerve to tell people he didn't understand what went wrong with us!!!!!!!

*shudders*

Anywho. Hubby looked at the ring again, plucked it out of my hands, and tossed in with all the rest of the jewelry to be traded.

"Yup, that's goin'."

Silver Lining:

1. Got $25 for that ring.


2. Got about $300 for everything else. I couldn't believe I had that much "money" lying around - it was all stuff I don't wear for one reason or another. You just never know what you're sitting on!

Parental Logic

Because I've got eyes in the back of my head . . .

I brought you into this world, and I can take you out . . .

Keep it up and Santa may put you on the naughty list . . .

Because I said so . . .

Ah, the logic of parents.

My girls are small enough to still believe almost everything I say. Especially if I say it with any sort of authority.

From personal experience, I know this will not continue into the teenage years.

Case & point (I was about sixteen):

"Dad, are there onions in this?"

I can't stand onions. I can taste them in everything.

Hubby and I went to the Waffle House once and my order of hashbrowns had been cooked on a griddle that at one point in time had onions on it. I nearly choked on the first bite - they had a distinct onion taste. I wasn't even hungry after that.

Dramatic? Yes.

Changable? No.

Back to dinner with my dad.

With a look of complete disbelief, he answered, "How could you tell? I minced them up! You can't even taste them."

Being a smart*ssy teenager, I responded, "If you can't taste them, then why are they in there?"

"For flavor." Too late - Dad was soooooo busted.

I just grinned from ear to ear and pushed my bowl away.

Silver Lining:

1. I had gotten too big for him to knock me into next week.


2. I had gotten old enough to take notes for my own parenting manual. Too bad I was a perfect angel. That manual is not helping me deal with the temper tantrums and mischievous actions of my own girls.

Memory Making Moments

The holidays are a great opportunity to make memories with your family, aren't they?

Yes, they are. And, wowie, my family has me to record them all. They're so lucky!

My Mother-In-Law thought it would be nice to have ALL of us sit in the dining room. That makes 11 people sitting around an eight foot table in a 12 X 12 room. The usual dining chairs would have taken up too much room around the table so there were folding chairs interspersed. Since the dining chairs sat a little taller, we put the kids in the dining chairs so they would get a little boost.

Of course, as soon as Hubby sat down, he noted how high the table felt. Out loud.

Then, the kids trickled in.

"Hey, why do we have to sit in the big chairs?" You would think this would be a treat not a trick. Oops, wrong holiday. Naturally kids are going to complain about any perceived inequality. Never mind the fact they got the more comfortable chairs.

Uncle Jay entered the room and sat in one of the folding chairs.

"Dude, these chairs are low!"

My niece Amy pointed out that Nana's "Days 'til Christmas" sign said there were only 10 days until Christmas. Being the bright fourth grader she is, she knew Christmas couldn't possibly be that close. It's only Thanksgiving! Duh!

Popo was pouring wine. I had my amaretto & 7-up from earlier so I was good. Hubby & his brothers don't drink wine so they poured their sodas in their wine glasses. Classy, I know.

There was a lot of chaotic conversation. Popo was trying to say grace. There was probably some burping & farting.

"Shut up! It's time to pray!"

"Thank you oh, Lord, for these, thy bountiful gifts which we are about to receive. In Jesus Name, Amen."

"Amen."

More chaotic conversation.

"Did you know the 'Days until Christmas' sign is wrong?"

"Why are these chairs so low?"

"Throw me a roll. Really, your mom's not looking. Go ahead throw it here."

"More wine anyone?"

Hubby started coughing. He has these fits sometimes. I've come to learn that as long as he's still breathing, to just wait it out and then ask if he's ok.

Being a nurse, my mother in law is also well aware of this protocol.

Everyone stopped talking for a moment.

Hubby did stop coughing and there was a collective sigh of relief.

"Whew, at least no one has to do the Heimlich."

"The hiney lick? That's gross."

"I'm not licking any one's hiney."

"There's no green been casserole?"

"You know if it really came down to it . . ."

"Oh, alright. If it really came down to it, I would like a hiney if necessary."

"Thank goodness, that's not how you really stop someone from choking."

"No, but someone might start choking if they got a hiney lick."

"We're having vegetable casserole this year."

"Or, you might be the one choking if you were the one giving the hiney lick."

"Beans are good for your heart."

"Why am I sitting so low?"

"I know a song about beans."

"There's more than ten days until Christmas you know."

"I'll take some more of that wine now."


Silver Lining:

1. Dinner was delicious. My in-laws out-did themselves yet again this year.


2. Time with family is precious. As chaotic as it was, I wouldn't trade my family for anything.

Giving Random Thanks

Thanksgiving is a mere two days away. Am I prepared with a beautifully dressed turkey and a carefully crafted Christmas shopping list?

Nope.

I'm prepared to be totally random in things I'm thankful for.

• I'm thankful this is my blog and I write the way I want to write without regards to all things grammatical. So I don't want to hear anything about the "ending with a preposition" thing I did just prior to starting the list.


• I'm thankful I have a loving family.


• I'm thankful for Swingline staplers. They really are superior. Red is even better, but no one has gotten me one of those for Christmas yet.


• I'm thankful I and Hubby both have jobs this season.


• I'm thankful to have a roof over our heads. Right now, we have the choice of two roofs considering I don't think our renters are going to buy our old house, let alone pay us rent for living there. Not really grateful for that situation, but it's better than having no roof over our heads.


• I'm thankful the early settlers got over that whole "potatoes are poisonous" thing. Kind of ironic how the American over consumption of fried potatoes is now killing us with clogged arteries, but at least they aren't poisonous - that would sure be a downer on the fast food industry.


• I'm thankful the turkey wasn't named the national bird as Benjamin Franklin wanted. We wouldn't be able to eat turkey on Thanksgiving! What would we have instead? Ham, chicken, burgers? Those all just seem so ordinary. Ducks or any other fowl are too small. Turkey is perfect!


• I'm thankful for modern transportation. Did you know the Mayflower was only about 100' X 25'???? That's a smaller footprint than the end zone on a football field! If I want to travel across water, I have my options of a boat the size of three football fields or an airplane that's twice as long as the Mayflower and has these things called wings and engines.


• I'm thankful the moderate temperatures of the summer have not yielded and icy fall. This weekend was gorgeous, no jacket required during the day. May not be quite as nice on Thursday, but at least we aren't looking at three feet of snow.


• I'm thankful most of you don't see my every day dorkdomness. Like when I bite into a hot dog and ketchup squirts all over my shirt or how I sometimes snort when I laugh.


• I'm thankful my kids don't care too terribly much when their jeans get a little hole in the knee. I haven't found any nifty patches, and replacing jeans for every little hole just seems wasteful.


• I'm thankful I live in a country with an "official" start for the Christmas shopping season. Seriously, how does the rest of the world know when to have all their sales and go on major shopping benders for the holidays?


• I'm thankful that there isn't anything I feel the need to buy that would require me to get up at 3AM in order to get in line before the store opens at 5am. Friday is going to be my mental health day - I'm even sending the kids to day care for at least half a day. Hubby, on the other hand, needs to go and get us a new rotating Christmas tree stand.


• I'm thankful for the health I have.


• I'm thankful for all of you readers. You make me feel good when ever you comment. At least I'm not talking to myself out here in blog land.

To visit all the other random thinkers, click on the pretty purple button above to visit them at The Un-Mom.

Silver Lining:

1. Hubby does all the cooking for Thanksgiving so I really do get to relax and just deal with the pretty stuff (setting the table, decorating, etc).


2. As of Friday, it will officially be OK to crank the Christmas music on my radio at work!

A Day Off

Why do you take a day off work?

A single day.

Not a whole week for vacation.

Just a day.

Most of the time, it's to get something specific done. Get the car worked on, take the kids to a doctor appointment, finalize a major purchase, etc.

My sister took a day off work on Friday. She had to get her car inspected so she could renew her license plates. Sounds like a legitimate reason to take a day off, right?

Totally legitimate if that's the real reason she took the day off.

But that's not why. No, getting the car inspected was a side item that just happened to occur while she was busy doing what she really took the day off for.

What was the real reason you ask?

To go see the new movie aimed at folks about half her age: New Moon.

She dropped her car off at the inspection place and walked (yes, WALKED) ten minutes to the movie theater. At 9:30. In the morning.

And get this, she was bummed because no one else wanted to go with her. Can you believe it? No one else wanted to use up their PTO in order to go see a movie on a Friday morning.

The auto shop was supposed to call her when her car was finished. She didn't get a call during the movie so afterward, she hung out in the lobby of the movie theater for a little bit.

Sissy had a plan. It made no sense for her to walk all the way back over to the auto shop and sit there until the car was finished. All they had was bad coffee and a 13" TV showing only local channels on rabbit ear service.

The Plan:

• Sit in the lobby, look at watch a couple of times.


• Stand up and walk around the lobby.


• Open phone and pretend to make a call.


• Scan the show times for all 18 movies showing at that particular theater.


• Pick a show.


• Nonchalantly, wander into a second movie without paying for another admission ticket.

2012 was showing in about five minutes. After a squeal of excitement and a little skip in her step, Sissy headed over to that theater. So much for nonchalantness.

Almost as soon as she plunked her butt into a seat, she realized she was hungry. She'd been there for a couple of hours already and it was getting pretty close to noon. At the concession stand, she got herself a healthy lunch of popcorn & soda.

She had to risk exposure for not having a proper ticket, but I suppose she saved herself the embarrassment of getting kicked out for making loud and obnoxious bodily noises during the movie. You know there would be some geek there on a Friday who would complain because he couldn't hear the movie due to her stomach growl reverberating throughout the nearly empty theater.

She'd be asked to leave. The geek would reveal that he saw her walk out of New Moon and into this theater without buying another ticket. Judge Wapner would jump out of the shadows, determine that she had defrauded the movie theater, and pound his gavel sentencing her to a year without any Twilight. Oh, the horror!!!!

Good thing she risked it all for that popcorn and soda.

Silver Lining:

1. We have something new to add to the usual Thanksgiving list. Because of her stealthy ninga-ness in getting in and out of the second movie without getting busted for being ticketless, she did not end up in jail for defrauding a movie theater. Thus, she did not have to make the license plates that are now on her legally licensed car.


2. I'm a little impressed. She saw two movies, got her car inspected, got an oil change, AND ate lunch all in the span of four hours. Now that's what I call multi-tasking.

Stakeout!

Do you ever feel like you're in a movie?

What kind of movie do you picture yourself in?

Drama, action, comedy?

Me? I'm totally in a dramactionedy.

We've had renters in our old house for two years now - we're on our third family.

We haven't received our November rent payment. They have never been late before so it was a little perturbing.

We've called, sent an e-mail and even wedged a letter in the door jam. But they wouldn't call us back or communicate with us in any way. Really, if something was going on, why wouldn't they at least call us?

Feeling as though we had no choice, we trucked out there hoping to find them at home.

I am not one for confrontation. My heart beats so hard, you can see it Looney Tunes style thrusting in and out of my chest. Big difference though. My heart beats out of fear, not out of love. At least I don't get those big X's over my eyes.

We parked the car across the street and walked up to the door.

I swear the entire neighborhood could hear my heart beating. Like in Poe's The Telltale Heart, the sound just kept getting louder and louder.

Hubby made me do the knocking.

The renter's son answered the door and told us they weren't home, but they should be shortly. We left and got back in our car.

"He is totally calling them right now. What are we going to do?"

I was whispering in my own car. Why, you ask? Here's where the movie part comes in. Because that's what they do in the movies. Anytime there is a plan developing, the actors tend to whisper, a loud whisper, but a whisper no less.

"We're going to move the car around the corner so we can see the house, but where it's not real obvious we're watching. Then, we'll wait and see if they come back."

I moved the car and turned it off. We had a nice view of the house.

Then I noticed the dash lights were still on. What if they could see the glow of the lights; thus, be able to see my face?

I pulled the keys out, but the lights stayed on.

I opened & closed the car door, and the lights on the dash went out, but now the over head light was on.

I clicked the lock button on the remote and the light went out quicker than if I'd just let it fade on its own.

In hind sight, the light issue could have been avoided if I had:

1. just turned the over head light off at the switch


2. realized that someone driving 25 - 30 mph was not going to notice the very faint glow of my dash lights, let alone be able to discern my face.

Anywho, we were safely locked in our car, but not really in stakeout position. I sunk down in my seat, started eating my McDonald's cheeseburger and slurped on a diet Coke. Now, I was in stakeout position.

They finally pulled into the driveway. Can you hear my heart beating??????

We let the garage door close and gave them enough time to get into the house. I went to start up the car, but had to click the unlock door button on the remote AND actually open a door prior to starting the car or we may have had a horn honking debacle on our hands. Nothing like ruining a perfectly good stakeout with a lot of horn honking and lights flashing to announce your position.

To make a long story short, we managed to pull off a stakeout, but we were not able to get our rent. It's still unresolved at this point.

Silver Lining:

1. We managed to keep ourselves out of the news by not being complete landlord *ssholes. We didn't try forcing our way into the house and raising a ruckus in an attempt to collect our rent. That always turns ugly and usually gets you on to shows like COPS. Also, I don't look good in orange.


2. We know they haven't abandoned the property and it doesn't look like that is their intent.

Morning Me

You guys are just getting whatever spills out of my brain today. You're going to get a little taste of my day starting with 5am.

I had to restart the alarm. It went off at 5am, I hit snooze. It went off again at 5:09 and I hit the ocean waves button, which is on the left side of the clock. And it resets the snooze. So I turned the alarm off, changed the "wake up time" to 5:11, and turned the alarm back on.

The alarm went off at 5:11, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:20, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:29, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:38, I got up.

Got ya there, didn't I? You thought I was going to hit snooze again.

5:45-ish

Why do women need make-up? Granted, I'm not leaving the house without it, but who started this?

I must say, I really like my new Mary Kay facial highlighting pen. It really does make my eyes look more awake. I'm all about the allusion of looking awake.

6am-ish

Where did hubby go?

Since he's playing on the computer, I will too.

Wow, that sounded childish. Too bad. You all get the benefit.

Random Tuesday Thoughts. I'm not really all that randomly funny this early in the morning, but I haven't posted in a few days so I really must do something. Let's just see what falls out.

I'm hungry.

I'm re-reading what I've written so far and while it may not be funny to you, I'm cracking myself up. Sad, isn't it?

Now, I really need breakfast.

Crap, one of the kids just got up.

7am-ish

I'm hungry. Dang kids! I never got a bowl of cereal.

A turkey sandwich or a peanut butter sandwich? Tough decisions. Geez, I wish I was in Kindergarten.

How do kids have so much energy in the morning? I'm dragging ass & haven't had any coffee yet, but they're running "the racing circle" screaming their heads off.

Who decided an open concept floor plan was a good idea? There is always some kind of wall somewhere that gives the kids the idea that the entire floor is a race track. I can't believe I haven't lost a child to a counter corner head injury or to the beating they would receive upon breaking the doors to the china cabinet.

8am-ish

Library day was yesterday.

Did Cupie return her book? Nope.

Did we even read the book? Nope.

It needed to go back but it was only a few minutes before the bus was going to get to her stop.

Compromise time. Let's read on the porch!

Of course, it was chilly and my jacket was locked in my car. Being the good mommy I am (stop tittering), I didn't want to waste time getting my keys so I could get my jacket; thus, risking the chance that we wouldn't be able to finish the book. It was about chipmunks. How long could that possibly take?

Dear God! It was actually about chipmunks. As in, they live in burrows (which the main entrance is about a yard long) and they have five black stripes on their backs (which you can see even when they are babies and don't have any fur).

I opened the book and it smelled musty. I really should have told Stinkles to back away because the mold spores emanating from the book could have activated her allergies and killed her. Half of it was black & white (I'm sorry, yellow - the pages have yellowed) and half of it looked like it was colored with chalk.

I closed the book just as the bus turned the corner. Cupie skipped off to school and I'm the greatest mommy in the world!

I'm still hungry.

Dude, you all must be bored as hell. I'll spare you the rest of the morning details. The most exciting thing after Cupie got on the bus was that I ate a bowl of oatmeal at 11am.

Woot! Woot! What a fantabulous morning! NOT!

I'm not the only one suffering from this randomness. Visit the "Un Mom" by clicking the pretty purple button for more. Go on, click it!

I SAID CLICK IT!

Sorry, the mom in me feels the need to tell everyone to do something at least three times.

Silver Lining:

1. If you made it this far, you deserve something special for your efforts. Go scrounge around some one's desk for a piece of candy. You know some one's got candy - everyone brings it in right after Halloween so everyone has a chance to watch their butts expand. No sense keeping the candy at home all to yourself so only your own butt expands - that's just selfish.


2. Did I mention I'm the greatest mommy in the world? You're gosh darn right I am - I sat in the chilly morning air reading a book that had to be returned to school because it was already late. I saved my child from feeling completely dejected because she had to return a book that she personally picked out, but never got read. I'm a hero! Do you think a Hershey kiss could be fashioned into a medal? It's the only thing shiny around here (lots of Halloween candy, remember?). Aw, forget it, I'll just eat it.

Free Peep Show!

Getting ready for bed last night, I set my jammies out on the bed.

Then, I went to the closet to get undressed and put my clothes directly in the laundry sorter. On the way to the closet I pulled the cord to close the blinds.

This is NOT my routine.

Usually, I get undressed in the bathroom and put my jammies on in there. Not because I'm a prude who can't get nekked under the bright, shining, overhead light in the bedroom, but because that's where I leave them when I get in the shower each morning.

After getting on my jammies, I pick up my clothes and throw them in the pile of dirty laundry outside the closet door.

Yes, I a few moments ago did write that there was a laundry sorter inside the closet, but that pile is just soooooo convenient when your tired or just plain lazy (which, sadly, is more often than not the case).

Anywho, now I was nekked and had to walk to the bed to get my jammies on.

I walked past the window with the closed blinds and stood right in front of the window with the open blinds. There was a paralyzing moment before my arm went into action and pulled the cord.

The bottom of the window is about two feet from the floor - thankfully my knees & gnarly, unpainted because no one sees them in the winter toenails were shielded! Really, what would a Peeping Tom think?

Sorry the free show was last night so most, if not all, of you missed it.

If you were in the alley behind my house last night and happened to look up at my mortifying moment, I just have to say:

THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!

Silver Lining:

1. I didn't hear any screams of horror, retching noises so anyone who saw me must not have thought it was a disguesting show.


2. I also didn't hear any applause, hoots, hollers, or whistles so it either wasn't a good show, or I've just told you all about a moment no one else even needed to know about.

Saint Gemini the Devout

We have a nifty double oven. It's a Maytag Gemini that fits in the same space as a regular stove. You lose the pots & pans storage drawer, but you gain and extra oven - it's awesome!

Anywho, it is also very devout in following religious fasting practices.

Hubby was re-setting the time on the stove for the end of Daylight Savings time and this is what we expected: 9:37

Instead we got this: SABB ATH

None of the buttons on the stove would work. Not the cancel button, not the clock button, not the number buttons, NOTHING.

We needed the manual.

NOW!

This "Sabbath" mode would stay in effect for 72 hours. The oven would not turn on for 72 hours. This struck fear in the heart of Hubby. What do you mean no oven for 72 hours?

Back to the manual.

NOW!

If you push the "Clock" button for three seconds, the "Sabbath" mode would be cancelled.

Hubby jammed his thumb on the button for three seconds. The display started blinking and the time came back.

Woot! Woot!

A heathen dance was performed in the kitchen.

Then there was a beep.

And the display switched back to "Sabbath" again.

Hubby jammed his thumb on the button as hard as he could (I'm surprised it didn't go through the display and into the wall behind the stove). Again, we got blinking. Then, the time.

Now, he went ahead and started the oven. Anything to break the cycle.

The time actually changed by a minute and the oven started warming up.

Ha, HA! Take that!

More heathen dancing ensued.

The disabling the oven for 72 hours to encourage fasting is really a flawed idea. There are soooo many ways to get around it. For example:

• The burners still start.


• We have a microwave.


• We have a ton of cereal.


• Who said Spaghetti-o's had to be heated?


• Hubby's been known to open a can of chicken noodle soup and eat it right out of the can.


• Hello, take-out? We have a drawer full of menus.

I could go on and on, but I'll space you the details.

Hubby pressed cancel on the oven. No sense in wasting energy to warm it up any further.

Beep.

"Sabbath"

We have GOT to stop dancing!


Silver Lining:

1. Hubby finally pushed enough buttons to cause the stove to revert to factory settings. This meant it re-set to 12:00.
   
   And it's going to stay that way for at least an hour. We'll try again when it turns to 1:00.


2. Just in case, I've got three boxes of cereal in the pantry and two gallons of milk in the fridge. Good think I'm prepared for these kinds of emergencies.

New Tools

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post for my friend Kat over at the 3 Bedroom Bunglow re-telling the story of last year's Pumpkin Carving Adventure.

I didn't know how we were going to top using the drill to put holes in our pumpkins, but Hubby figured out a way.

Now, Hubby doesn't consider himself much of an artist except it comes to carving Halloween pumpkins. He goes all out with the tools and this year was no exception.

Hubby's check list prior to starting included:

• Pumpkins


• Carving Template


• Tracing Paper (For the template. Poking little guide holes isn't good enough for Hubby anymore. This has become a science.)


• Big, Huge Knife


• Dremel


• Drill


• Pumpkin Gutter


• Shop Vac

Yes, you read those last two correctly. A Shop Vac and a Pumpkin Gutter.

Hopefully, you know what a Shop Vac is.

I suppose a Pumpkin Gutter needs a little explanation.

You see, Hubby doesn't like to carve all the way through the pumpkin because the design eventually sinks into the pumpkin. By just removing the hard orange rind, you get the design, but no sinking. But one problem he's always had is getting the walls of the pumpkin thin enough to make a light show through the "skin".

This year, he got a "Pumpkin Gutter". This tool goes on to the end of your drill and helps thin out the walls of your pumpkin significantly. More so than using that orange scraper do-dad that comes with the pumpkin carving kits.

Since we used a drill last year, just using the new Pumpkin Gutter with the drill was not enough of an improvement over last year.

There had to be another tool we could use to make this experience easier than ever.

Hence, the Shop Vac!

This would suck up all the yick inside the pumpkin. I liked this idea because I didn't have to play the role of yick-scooper-outer.

You know the kids had to get in on all this action.

They're too young to handle the knife or the drill. And heaven forbid they mess up the tracing of the design.

So they were designated the official yick suckers.




Stinkles wasn't too thrilled with the sound of the Shop Vac at first.


But she eventually warmed up to the idea.


Looks pretty good, but could be a little cleaner.


Time to pull out the heavy altillery. That's the Pumpking Gutter.


Oooo, this looks nice & clean. Good gutting job Hubby.


Let the artist work his magic.


Sorry, I had to get in a picture of my excited ballerinas.


Ooooooooo, spooky!

Silver Lining:

1. We had the most awesome pumpkins!


2. I was yick free this year!

Fifth Dear So & So Letters

It's Friday!

I've got a few things I need to get off my chest so I can have a good weekend. So I've written a few letters. I think you may enjoy some of my moments of misery, confusion, and dingy-ness.


Dear George,

Could you consistently lean back a bit when you poop? I know you have the ability to clear the perches as evidenced with the three piles of poop rising like volcanoes from the floor of your cage. I really don't like cleaning poop encrusted perches.

Grossed Out,
Your Birdie Mommy

Dear Padded Bra Makers,

Why do you make padded bras for children? Don't deny it. I saw them in the little girl underwear section at Wal-Mart!

Do twelve or thirteen year-olds really need padded bras? They grow up fast enough! You don't need to push that process by making their chests bigger than they really are.

Feeling A Little Ranty,
Pollyanna

Dear Self,

When trying to drill into a wall that has duct work in it, make sure the drill bit is turning the right way. If the bit is turning to the left, it will not penetrate the duct work. Going to the left only helps you remove screws.

Hee, hee. The left = loose screws.

Just an FYI for next time. You know, so you don't have look like an idiot when Hubby has to come over and help you.

DIY Dingy,
Me

Dear Mother Nature,

Did you really have to choose the moment I ran out to the garage to start a deluge of rain?

I was only going to run out and run back in. I was expecting to come inside with a few rain drops in my hair, not as a sopping mess with no towel in sight.

I know I've written you a letter at least one other time about the weather, and I never got a response. That's poor customer service. Maybe I should just take over for the Pleasantville area.

Wet,
Pollyanna

Dear Self (again),

Don't wear Crocs in the rain. You will slip & fall on a smooth surface. Such as a garage floor.

A Little Ache-y,
Me

There are others out there who share my thoughts - I'm sure of it. Why don't we all head over to Kat's place to see who else is writing letters this week?

Silver Lining:

1. George has a sparkly clean cage. I cleaned EVERYTHING! He was so confused when I was all done (because I rearranged the "furniture") that he almost didn't want to get back in.


2. After Hubby drilled a little hole for me, he didn't even tease me about the drill. I knew there was a reason I keep him around. XOXOXO to Hubby.


3. Apparently, I'll live after my little rain run. I eventually dried out. And my arm doesn't really hurt from the fall anymore

Quadward - Honestly & Randomly

Count them:





Four awards!

All given to me by Cougs at Couger Tales. She's a fellow Babe and SITSta and definitely a good read.

How wonderful is this?

It's such a fantastic surprise when ever one award comes my way, but four? At the same time?

Well, let's just say, it blew me right out of my chair.

Or was it the Pleasantville wind? We're famous for our wind. Not really, but it's pretty gosh darn windy. I refer to my house as the "Red house on the prairie." Because I don't have any neighbors on either side of me and when the wind kicks up, you might as well be on a prairie because there is no protection.

As I didn't have the windows open this weekend, I'm pretty sure it was the awards.

I'm not know to be short-winded myself so I'm making this part one of four. I'll be passing out three more in the next week or so. But let's get started with this one:


Honest Scrap. What does that mean?

If you say it out loud, it sounds like "Honest Crap." Not to diminish the award in any way, but wouldn't this be a more appropriate award for me? Honestly, the fact that you all like my crap enough to come back time and time again is what should be blowing me out of my chair. What the heck, I say, "Cheers! To a sore arse for hitting the floor every time someone leaves me a comment or becomes a follower." Raise a glass of what ever liquid deliciousness suits your fancy.

In order to fully accept this award, I need to share 10 random things about me.

And, since it's Random Thoughts Tuesday, I'm counting this as my post for that as well :)

So here goes:

1. In the fifth grade, I punched a boy in the jaw.
   
   I could feel his fingers on my back as he was getting ready to snap my bra. I clenched my fist and swung straight back with my arm. Totally caught him off guard - it was awesome!
   
   He never bothered me again.



2. I suck at math. I'm an accountant and without an adding machine or a spreadsheet, I'm lost when it comes to numbers.
   
   Hubby, on the other hand, is a whiz at it and never lets me forget. I've completely given up on this aspect of my life. I don't even try anymore, I just look at him. Or if someone talks number to me and he's not around, I just say, "Hubby's the numbers whiz, I'll have to talk to him about that." Sad, but true.



3. Speaking of spreadsheets, I'm an expert.
   
   I love how all my linked up spreadsheets calculate in seconds when my co-workers are busy entering the same information multiple times in multiple spreadsheets. If they would just listen to me, their lives would be so much easier. Gee, that sounds conceited.
   
   Oh well, sometimes the truth hurts.



4. I make all my own curtains.
   
   I'm too picky to buy anything ready made. They either aren't long enough, full enough, or interesting enough.
   
   Or they are too expensive. I'm cheap that way. I made fully lined curtains for my dining room window for about $15 bucks. Ceiling to floor. Woot! Woot!



5. I don't understand how I can wash all the light one day, and run out of underwear three days later.
   
   Seriously, there is a black hole with all my underwear. Each time I do the laundry, it eats up another pair.
   
   I'm lucky I'm not negative on underwear right now.
   
   One of these days, I'm going to catch that black hole in the act and I'm going to re-claim fifteen years worth of underwear. Well, maybe only six or seven years worth. The ones older than that probably don't fit anymore.



6. I once worked for a company that did not allow paper clips and ALL faxes were printed on green paper.
   
   That's not green as in environmentally friendly. It was actually green colored paper.
   
   They spent a fortune on binder clips. A paper clip box has, like, a hundred paper clips in it. A binder clip box has twelve clips and costs three times as much per box. You do the math. Better yet, let Hubby do it.



7. I have had someone from every state except Alaska visit my blog.
   
   Where are all the Alaskans? Do they not like to laugh? If you know anyone in Alaska, send them a note telling them to read my blog. Really, then I can stop stressing over this point and move on to getting people from the 198 countries of the world to read my blog.
   
   I'm almost national. Now, I want to be global. I want to spread laughter to every corner of the earth. Come on people - help a gal out!



8. I paid for college all by myself.
   
   I spent two years at community college and two years at a university.
   
   No scholarships. No grants. No hand outs from Mom and Dad.
   
   I've since paid off all my student loans too.



9. I bought my first home when I was 23.
   
   Idiots! What business did any bank have giving a 23 year old a mortgage for twice her annual salary? Gee, guess this mentality is what got us into the housing mess we're in now.



10. I'm a Daisy Girl Scout leader.
    
    What was I thinking? It's actually a lot more involved than I thought. I used to teach Sunday School on a weekly basis so I should be able to handle meetings twice a month, right?
    
    Well, not only to I have to actually plan the meetings (they gave me a detailed, step-by-step book for Sunday School), but I have to attend two different leader meetings a month. There are special events for the girls - skating, lock-ins, camps, etc and I have to help with these things too.
    
    Really, though, I'm loving it. I want my daughter to have a better Girl Scout experience than I had growing up. As far as I knew, Girl Scouts was selling cookies, making a craft once a month, and bringing a snack to the meetings once a year. I want Cupie to enjoy being a Girl Scout AND learn what being a Girl Scout is all about.

You all have a little bit of scrappiness in you so I think you all deserve this award. Share your "Honest Scrap" or "Honest Crap" - I look forward to reading it.

Now, head over to Cougs' place to experience her own brand of scrap.

And you need to stop by Keeley's place for all the other randomness floating around in the blogosphere.

And finally . . .

Silver Lining:

1. At that job with the weird paper clip rule, I had the best boss I've ever had. He taught me more about my profession than any classroom ever could, the importance of work/life balance, and that sometimes you have to make your own fun.


2. Proving that those bankers were idiots, I couldn't afford my home and a single gal's lifestyle. I had to get a second job to do so. That's how I ended up being a Domino's Pizza delivery driver - where I met Hubby.


3. That boy in fifth grade didn't turn me in to the teacher. I think he was either too stunned or too embarrassed to get hit by a girl.

No Fail Rice Krispies - NOT!

I haven't had a good kitchen calamity in awhile. And it happens to be your lucky day (but definitely not mine).

I've got a kitchen calamity story for you all.

As luck would have it the grandparents called Saturday morning and offered to take the girls on a "Haunted Hayride" about an hour away. We were invited to an "Alley" party - which is like a block party, but takes place in the alley behind our homes. We would bring the kids, but it is really is more fun when you don't have to watch out for small appendages getting too close to a bon-fire. Can you say, "AWESOME!" (all sing-song like) - we could hang out with our neighbors and friends for a few hours and not feel bad because we stuck the kids with a babysitter!

It wasn't until four in the afternoon that I realized we needed to bring some sort of food to the party.

Brownies took an hour.

By the time I pulled together ingredients for cookies and baked them, I'd still be at an hour.

I didn't have an hour. We were planning on being there in 45 minutes.

I found some marshmallows and rice krispies in the pantry. I could tell there weren't going to be enough marshmallows to make a full pan of rice krispie treats. I figured I could just melt the marshmallows and pour in enough rice krispies until the consistency was right.

And I thought I would make up for the lack of quantity with quality. By quality, I meant chocolate. Chocolate chips mixed with marshmallow, butter & rice krispies, where could I go wrong?

Apparently, I could go horribly wrong.

I didn't want to bring over the glass dish I initially put the treats in so I started taking a knife to them in order to transfer them to a large paper plate.

I jammed the knife in and a hunk of treat zinged out of the dish, nearly taking out an eye. Thinking maybe just the edge was crunchy, I continued to try to cut the treats.

Um, yah. It wasn't just the edges.

The entire batch of rice krispie treats were crunchy. And not in a good way. It was like rock candy kind of crunchy. And painful.

I needed a new plan.

I didn't have a new plan.

There was nothing else in the pantry, to take at a moments notice. I didn't even have an unopened bag of chips.

Chips!

The market is just across the way, I would get chips at the market and then whiz off to the party!

So that we didn't have to come back into the house, Hubby's bright idea was to make up our drinks (which he was going to hold on to - there would be no drinking & driving), we'd swing by the market and then get to the party.

Mmmmm, amaretto and 7-up in my big insulated mug. Sprite is preferable, but we had 7-up so I was going with the flow. Hubby grabbed an insulated bag and filled it with six "Shocktop" beers and we were ready.

I put my big mug on the center console of my car and the sack-o-beer on the passenger floor. Telling Hubby none of this, I went back in the house.

Hubby got in the car, on the passenger side, and knocked the mug filled with amaretto and 7-up deliciousness into the drivers seat. The lid popped off and the seat was now filled with amaretto and 7-up deliciousness.

A smarter person would have started sucking the liquid up with his or her lips, but I ran inside for the shop vac. By the time I got it and an extension cord and made my way back out to the car, my sponge of a seat had completely absorbed all the amaretto and 7-up deliciousness. Like the left over bones after a body has been dissolved in an acid bath, the ice cubes remained.

It was a sad day in Mudville, folks.

Silver Lining:

1. Hubby went to the market and came back with a six pack of Mic Ultra and chips.


2. We had a good time at the party, but were home by 8:00 because we were whooped from all the earlier running around.


3. We were home by 8:00 like old, married people. But I'm happy to be an old, married person as long as I'm old and married to Hubby. Cheers, to gray hairs and rocking chairs (neither of which I have yet)!

Big Box Guilt

I accidentally scammed a big box chain yesterday.

Really, I didn’t do it on purpose.

I bought some candles using coupons, making them only a $1 each. If you bought five of said candles, you got a $5 gift card for the store. Essentially, that made them free – yay!

I went through the check out line, got my gift card and was on my merry way.

Once I got to the car and started thinking about the transaction, the total seemed too high. I checked the receipt and sure enough I was charged too much on three of the candles (without regards to the coupons).

It wasn’t a ton of money and was going to let it go. But then I started looking in my bag at the other stuff I had bought and the total on the receipt and decided I really didn’t need the candles anyway. So I went back in the store to return them.

The gal at the service desk was very cheerful and was happy to accept my return. This was very unusual because I’ve met my share of crabby customer service people at this store. I pointed out that I had used coupons and she said there wasn’t anything she could do about that and she had to refund the full amount on a store card.

I had forgotten about the $5 gift card I already received in making the purchase in the first place. The bottom line is I had given them $6.50 + coupons for the merchandise, but I ended up with $20 in store credit.

I feel a little bit guilty about that.

I told you all that to get to the “ding-dong you’re a dork” part of my story.

I went to one of the big box chain stores today. I had some kick-*ss coupons for Chex Mix that when getting the store to price match to a printed sales flier from another store, made the Chex Mix FREE! I’m all over free stuff!

Once I got into the store, I realized the price per bag was only a quarter more than if I went ahead with the price match. Considering, I had unintentionally scammed them yesterday, I wasn’t going to push the issue and use up some of the $20 credit I had.

I gathered up nine bags of Chex Mix, a bag of Tostitos, and two TGIFridays Spinach & Artichoke dips and made my way to the check out counter.

The cashier grunted, “$12.04.” Just the total, no “That’ll be $12.04” or “$12.04 please”.

I swiped my debit card, punched in my pin, took my receipt and bags, and headed for the car.

Once I sat down in the car, it hit me.

I DIDN’T USE THE GIFT CARD!!!!!

Silver lining:

1. I don’t think anyone else saw me smack the heal of my hand against my forehead V-8 style. Yah, it was loud enough to make a smack sound. Left a pretty red mark too.


2. My conscience still has a guilt-ridden $20 to spend.

You Know You're An Idiot A Split Second After It's Too Late

You volunteer once and do a good job, guess who gets asked to do something. That’s right, it’s you!

Last month I made some fantabulous “Good Student Awards”. After three Mike’s Hard Lemonades each, my friend Kitty and I hauled out the bucket of crayons and colored really pretty like. They looked kind of like this (but they all had different color combinations).


Cupie said they needed glitter. So I used the glitter glue I had at home and piped it on the edges and the words. Of course, I used up all my glitter glue.

Since they were so sparkly & pretty, I got a request to make more awards. I still didn’t have any glitter so I hiked my butt down to the craft store.

Glitter glue is expensive!

I figured the Elmer’s at home and the regular, sprinkly kind of glitter would do the job. I bought eight jars that had a shaker top.

Wouldn’t you know it, I spent just as much as I would have on the glitter glue. At least the sprinkly kind will last longer.

A shaker top is cool, but you have pop out the tab do-dad. I thought I’d just push on them.

Like opening parmesan cheese.

They were so small they didn’t stay open very well so I had to open the jars and actually pull the tab off. I was able to tear most of them out. The red and multi-colored tabs were an issue.

I needed to perforate the edges somehow. I didn’t want to use a knife because jabbing it at the laminate counter top in order to pierce the tab edge would result in open jars of glitter, but a nicked up counter. Not a good idea. I needed something a little duller.

There were fondue forks in the silverware drawer. The two prongs were pretty close together and they had a rounded end.

Perfect!

The multi-colored jar was pierced as planned and I pulled the tab out.

The red jar was the first one I tried to open by just pushing in the tab – the one where I discovered the tab doesn’t stay open so well. There was only the long edge to perforate.

Because one side had already been pushed in, it kept folding in every time I tried to jam the fondue fork into the edge.

I concluded I wasn’t able to achieve the right angle by pushing down toward the counter so I picked up the lid with my left hand.

I pushed the fork with my right hand.

Planned event: Perforating the tab edge. SUCCESS!

Unplanned event: Perforating the palm of my left hand. SUCCESS!


Silver Lining:

1. I did finish the awards. I just clenched a paper towel in my left hand while doing it.


2. Thank goodness I had nixed the knife idea.


3. My awards are better than the other mom’s awards – she only colors them all one color and uses only one color glitter

I'm Across the Pond

I get giddy with comments.

When someone passes one of those blogger awards to me, my heart soars.

But for someone to like my drivel enough to allow me to post said drivel on their blog, I mean WOW!

I'm caught almost speechless. I say almost because really folks, have any of you ever thought of me as speechless? Seriously, I think I'd have to be heading toward the castle in the sky for that to happen.

Anywho, I'm done talking here because I'm busy talking over at Kat's. Pop on over to the Three Bedroom Bungalow for my pumpkin carving adventure.

Silver Lining:

1. It's so much fun to hop across the pond. Maybe I'll get to do it for real someday.


2. Kat's a great blogger buddy and funny too. She tells it like it is when you're an American living in the UK. When you stop by to read my post, you should check out some of her past posts too.

Monk Moves

If you've never seen the show Monk (Tony Shalhoub) on USA, you should really check it out. Monk is a neurotic ex-detective for the San Francisco police department. He notices stuff, puts the pieces together, and neatly solves crimes for the police. His big problem is that he's an obsessive-compulsive with a phobia for everything - from milk to monkeys, charcoal to caves, harmonicas to heights, slime to spiders. It's hysterical the lengths he will go to avoid a phobia.

Anywho, Cupie wanted to play in the basement yesterday. No biggie, the bulk of the "big" toys are down there - kitchen set, humongous Barbie house, etc.

I was busy signing a sale contract for our old house (we still own it, two years after we moved out) when I heard a blood curdling scream. I looked at Hubby who just sat on the couch completely ignoring Cupie's cries. I was busy. He was just sitting on the couch (well, he might have been working on something I asked him to do, but he was closer to the basement door so he totally should have jumped to his feet).

There was a spider!

A big, hairy, fast one!

Getting on a chair wasn't high enough for Cupie. She pulled a total Monk move by climbing up on a table - because the fear of spiders totally trumps the fear of heights.

Silver Lining:

1. Daddy was once again a super hero for killing the spider. For his past heroic acts, click here.


2. For everyone who seen an episode of Monk, this is pretty funny. For anyone who hasn't, sorry if you don't get the post.