Monday, 7 July 2014

Things you never expect to see at the Post Office...bird boobs. THANK YOU Ma'am

 I will NEVER be this badass

Nothing says screw you Surgeon General like the willingness to go to the doctor and say - Yes! I got Avian Flu from having bird titties. What are you going to say to me about that, Doc?
 
How the hell did I come up with that? Well, I went to the Post Office to pick up a BIG HEAVY BOX and couldn't open the doors myself when I saw this. And I never actually wished for three arms before so I could take a picture - but if I had, THIS would've been the moment.
 
So, instead you get a picture of my amazed text...you're welcome.
 
 
And even better - it totally matched her outfit.

Anybody Home?


My boys had a tragic where-is-the-player-two-PS3-game-controller search this morning. This resulted in an argument. SURPRISE...not.

"I told Reecie I'm sorry but he didn't even listen," Kaelan informs me.

"You did?"

"So I tried knocking on his head and asking - hey, are you even home?"

"I don't think that's going to make him happier."
 

Feelin' Saucy

 
My son's Dad bought them cap guns this weekend. They have had a BLAST, and my eardrums might never recover.
 
 "Do I look like Doc Hollandaise?" Reece asks me.

 


Your Son is all Grown up When...


I'm in my bedroom tidying when my youngest, Reece, comes running in with eyes alight with excitement.

"Well Mom, I finally have a mistress!" he tells me.

At this point I choked.

"Wow! Good for you!" I respond, and let it never be said I am NOT SUPPORTIVE...unless it's from someone's father - then I've never met my son.

"And it only took me three minutes."
 
"...Your Dad would be so proud, too!" I giggled.
 
"Well, it did take an extra five minutes. I had to kill some raiders first."
 

Some Dogs have NO Class

 
You teach your kids what not to touch and it's icky and why... Sometimes it's satisfying (and hilarious) when you see those lessons have taken hold.
 
Spock is our Boston Terrier puppy. He's hanging out on the couch - being a dog, when I hear this from Kaelan:
 
"Ewww Spock! Don't lick your weiner! You don't know where it's been!"

Friday, 2 May 2014

Apparently I CAN be bought...if you have enough goats

Show me the Money

 
Sometimes you're a smartass and it drops your price...kind of like driving yourself off the lot prematurely.
 
My sons Dad told my youngest, Reece, he bought me for some goats. (Oh, you read that correctly - GOATS).
 
"Really? How many?" Reece asks him all FASCINATED. We don't exactly get the fibbing concept. (If you can get kids like this - I highly recommend it.)
 
"Three," I answer, (because I suffer from a serious condition called smartassitis...it may be terminal).
 
"Three scrawny ones...missing a leg," his Dad answers at exactly the same time.
 
Okay, now I just wanted to poke him.
 
"Wow! Mom, I'd pay at least a hundred goats for you," my darling child ups my price and throws in a big hug.
 
What a great negotiator.

 

The Gift that Keeps on...Something

 
Your children make or give you presents and they are heart warming. These are the BEST presents that you treasure for the rest of your life.
 
"Hey Mamma, I brought you a present!" Kaelan tells me as he jumps around, very excited.
 
"You did?"
 
"It's a shoe!"
 
Oh my God...
 
"So it is!" I reply with a mile-wide smile on my face.
 
"I found it," he tells me proudly.
 
"So you did! Thank you!"
 
"What do you think?"
 
"It's memorable! I love it, let's get a picture."
 

 
 

It's not the Partridge Family

 
I've always admired when people can have those close friendships their entire lives. My oldest son has had the same best friend since he began school. His best friend in the entire universe is Julia. He's going to marry her and live in the basement...he's already told her Dad.
 
His other friend is Connor. They've been friends for a few years now. He tells me he loves Connor. As far as I know he has no plans to marry him.
 
"Hey Momma, guess what?" Kaelan asks me.
 
"What?"
 
After all, I'm always game and he looks pretty stoked.
 
"When me and Julia and Connor grow up we're going to call it Angry Families Go!"
 
"Doesn't sound like a happy place to live..."

 

Great Minds don't Always Smell Alike

 
Daisy is our Chihuahua. She's tiny, dainty, hates all things dog-like (walking, grass, playing, the floor...). We recently added a puppy to our house and she is NOT AMUSED. Spock likes to play - and that word is not in her vocabulary.
 
"Daisy has been growling for like years," Kaelan announces.
 
"THANK YOU! High five," I tell him while I'm sitting at the table.
 
"Why five?" he asks.
 
"Because you totally agreed with me. We're like THIS," I tell him as I touch his forehead and then mine and back again. "All copacetic."
 
"What do you mean, like this?"
 
"Your thoughts are my thoughts. Your mind is my mind," as I point to his forehead and mine.
 
Then he farted.
 
"Except your gas...that's all yours."
 

DEEP Thoughts

 
I walked in on this deep conversation between my children at the breakfast table.
 
"Reece, I'd like to talk to you about an awesome word today," Kaelan announces in his best televangelist-type voice.
 
Reece looks up, eyebrows raised, mouth full of cereal.
 
"And that word is...lamp."
 
Ol' Billy Graham couldn't have done it better...

 

It's April SHOWERS Mother Nature!

 
Even my children are having issues with the weather. It does feel as though this crappiness has lasted forever...however time does pass slooowly when you are frozen solid.
 
"Okay, this is a natural disaster!" Reece is bellowing one morning.
 
"What is?" I ask, alarmed and disoriented...where is my freaking coffee?
 
"The weather! It's June for Pete's sake."
 
"Ummm...no, it's not. It's April."
 
 
 

When you're only Half Grown Up

 
"I think one of my legs is growing," Reece informs me.
 
You'd think I'd be surprised by this statement, but NO. I hear this a lot. Not my legs are growing, not both...just one at a time.
 
"Are you going to walk on an angle?"
 
"Maybe I'll walk on one leg," he considers.
 
"Then we'll call you Stumpy," because we don't discriminate - we tease everybody.
 
"Or Hoppy," he suggests all helpful.
 
Alrighty then...
 

Thursday, 6 March 2014

I am an Emotional Masterpiece

Just call me Picasso

 
I've decided I'm an emotional masterpiece, because it sounds so much better than unbalanced. I'm like Picasso, but without the wang...and with breasts. And maybe with my eyeballs in the right place.
 
So I'm like Picasso but BETTER.
 
Fucking A.
 
Not like a Da Vinci-ette, because let's face it - that guy made sense. I'm more all over the map lately. Creative, emotional, and ACCIDENTAL.
 
My sons went on a ski trip with their school. They come home absolutely soaked through, so I "empty" their pockets and throw coats and snow pants into the washer...then the dryer. I do the little quotesy things on "empty" because it wasn't as empty as empty should have been. It was less "empty" and more "holy shit, what the Hell is THIS?"
 
THIS is how you accidentally tie dye two pairs of snow pants and add decorative splotches to winter jackets...with wax crayons. So it's nice and waterproof. And won't come off.
 
Less Da Vinci and more Picasso, right?
 

Just HOW Sick are You?

 
It was Family Dinner Night...for those of you who don't know - this is night when disaster and or hilarity strike in equal measure (usually when I screw something up). However, for once THIS was the exception...HA! Because we didn't even get there.
 
My brother sent my Mom a text saying they all had Parvovirus or Tuberculosis (or possibly were just sick...I didn't actually read the text) and they couldn't make it to dinner - so they cancelled.
 
Don't worry, we all blame him. It's what we do.
 
"Paul says they're sick and can't make it tonight," my Mom announces in the living room.
 
"Wait! Uncle Paul is sick?" my oldest son asks.
 
"Yes, sweetie."
 
"Did he get too old?"
 
Oooh the restraint I demonstrate sometimes...you're welcome, Paul.
 

It Tastes like What?

 
We recently added a Boston Terrier puppy to our madhouse. By "we" I mean "me" because I just can't get enough of cleaning up puddles of pee and I suffer from...something horribly wrong with me. And if I try to share the blame I will get the hairy eye.
 
His name is Spock and he is insane. My sons adore him.
 
"Spock's eating his foot!" Kaelan shrieks happily one morning.
 
"It's probably itchy," my Mom explains as both boys bounce around the puppy.
 
"I bet it tastes disgusting," Reece announces as he leans in to inspect the action.
 
"It probably tastes like chicken. Everything tastes like chicken," I tell them.
 
"I bet that's it," my Mom agrees.
 
"Or dork. Most likely it tastes like dork," I suggest.
 
Just a guess.
 
 

Wednesday, 19 February 2014

Things not to do with Ocean Spray

Dear Ocean Spray: You may want to talk to my son and stay away from old folks

 
Reece is talking to me on the way to the city and it sounds like he's pinching his nose shut.
 
"Is there a box of Kleenex in the backseat? I think you need to blow your nose," I suggest.
 
After creating a ginormous pile of tissue on his lap he tells me "I think I have nasal congestion."
 
"I think you're right."
 
"You know what I need? Ocean Spray," he throws out there.
 
"Really?" and now I'm confused, however this isn't a surprise as it happens A LOT.
 
"Yes. You spray it up your geezer."
 
Wow. This made me almost swerve off the road. Why? Why do these things ALWAYS happen when I'm driving?
 
"That sounds uncomfortable," not to mention illegal...and now I need to keep him away from old folks homes.
 
"Well, not right up your geezer. But just up the nasal so you can breathe fresh," he explains.
 
"Ahhh, that sounds...better."
 
Not. It SOUNDS like the colonoscopy from Hell.
 
And I've NEVER seen that on an Ocean Spray commercial. I must not get that channel... Sick bastards.

Diablo III...Hell for the Other Guys

 
This is my youngest son's perspective on playing a co-operative game. I'm guessing he's not going to grow up to be a hippie...just a guess.
 
"What's good about having a friend in this game is you can stand back and let them do all the fighting," he tells me as I see his 'friends' get annihilated.
 
"Just throw 'em to the wolves, huh?"
 
"Mhmmm..."

The Doorway to Narnia...
or Wherever too Much Booze takes Ya


My Mom bought a new-to-her wine cabinet and it is AWESOME. It's old and looks like something that belonged to Grandma...if my Grandma wasn't cheap and a little bit crazy.
 
"I love that cupboard! It's like that one they use to get to Narnia, but without the creepy fur coats," I tell my Mom.
 
"You mean a wardrobe?" she asks.
 
"Yes! The wardrobe!"
 
"Except ours is filled with wine."
 
"That just makes it MORE awesome. And we'd still be able to talk to lions - it's just a matter of having enough."
 
"I need to finish filling it," she reminds me - as I'm in the way obsessing over our magic wardrobe.
 
Now I'm thinking we need a sign. A picture of a giant wine bottle with lines at different levels, like a measuring cup. THIS much to see lions, THIS much to see guys with goat feet and THIS much to see talking gophers.
 
Fucking brilliant! I bet I could sell them in bars. I may need a patent...
 

A Brief Norse "History" if You're not Picky about Facts

 
My youngest son comes up to me with knowledge blazing in his eyes...and by knowledge I might mean vague guessing, you be the judge.
 
"Mom, I know how Vikings got horns," Reece tells me.
 
"Really? How's that?" I ask.
 
A mistake, possibly, but I have this problem...it's called ZERO CONTROL.
 
"They took the horn of an animal, then they dug out the middle," he begins.
 
"Ewww." (Yes, I should have known better. Hindsight is a bitch.)
 
"Then they put something on the pointy end so their lips wouldn't touch anything icky."
 
Because we all know how sanitary Vikings were.
 
"Like Purell?" I guess.
 
"No. Like leather," he tells me.
 
"Ahhh."
 
"Then they put a ring of gold around the other end."
 
"How incredibly fancy!"
 
"Yes."
 
You heard it here...snag yourself a Viking. They have fancy horns AND they're a tidy folk.
 

Keep your Beezer Nice and Fresh

 
"Oh sick! I just got water up my nasal cavity!" Reece announces as he comes out of the bathroom.
 
Seriously, I have NO idea where he comes up with this stuff.
 
"Oh?" I dare to ask.
 
"What's a nasal cavity?" asks Kaelan.
 
"It's a nose hole," Reece explains.
 
"I was brushing my teeth, then rinsing - like this," then he starts rattling his head madly back and forth.
 
"Oh I hear ya," I reply, because honestly it's all I can think of without laughing (or sarcasm).
 
"Well, at least my nose is all fresh."
 
Yay for the silver (and minty fresh) lining!
 

And How does that Make you Feel?
How about hearing impaired???

 
"Sometimes I feel like a dwarf."
 
My youngest son blasts me with this information in the CAR...while I'm DRIVING...because he wants to KILL ME.
 
And all I can think is that at least this is going to be an entertaining way to crash.
 
"Do I look like a dwarf?" he asks.
 
"No. You don't look bulky or hairy," I tell him.
 
And HERE is where the family hearing issues rear their ugly (and entertaining) head.
 
"I'm bonky?" he asks, somewhat fascinated.
 
"No! I said bulky or hairy!" I laugh.
 
Oh, but this was not the end.
 
"Bulky or beery?" he asks, COMPLETELY baffled. "What's beery?"
 
Oh my God. Note to self: clean his ears.
 
"I don't know! I said HAIRY!"

"I'm not hairy," he tells me with this totally offended look on his face.

Screw it...be a dwarf - I quit.