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Effing Awesome Father's Day Presents

I should say that it's POSSIBLE that some of the following products don't exist yet but if they don't they TOTALLY SHOULD because they would be EFFING AWESOME!

1. A bidet - Did you know that you can get a bidet attachment for your toilet?  It plugs into the wall and hooks up to the water and when you press a little button it squirts WARM water at your ass.  The cheaper models squirt cold water which doesn't seem like fun AT ALL.  I'm thinking of getting this for my husband because he uses more toilet paper than I do.  ARE YOU DOING THE MATH ON THAT? Because SERIOUSLY? I SQUAT to pee and he doesn't which means that I need to use toilet paper 6 times a day and he only needs to use it once or twice and he still manages to KILL a roll.  It's like a FUCKING badge of HONOR.  The bidet attachment is expensive but I bet I'd make it back in Toilet paper costs within a year - especially because he insists on the extra soft/strong paper for extra sensitive ASSHOLES  - which he totally is, I mean has.  Also, I may get him a gift certificate for a Brazilian Waxing because without any hair down there it may be easier to, you know, tidy up.

2. Along the same lines I would like to get an AUTOMATIC TOILET PAPER ROLL CHANGER.  I know you're probably thinking, "seriously? How hard is it to change the roll?" But I guess you'd be surprised because in my bathrooms there are usually 3 empty toilet paper rolls on the window sill, an empty one hanging on the wall and a half used roll sitting on the edge of the sink.  I think he's lining them up like he used to line up empty beer cans. 

3. An automatic Ball Scratcher - for those times when his hands are full.

4. A sheep.  Get your mind out of the gutter!!  Not for that!  For keeping the lawn trim so that he doesn't have to mow it so often.  You people are SICK.

5. Along the same lines, a virtual reality remote controlled lawnmower so that he could sit on the couch and mow the lawn at the same time.  I think this is brilliance.  In fact, I think I'm going to bring it to Nintendo so forget I mentioned it.  In my house, the only thing standing between the kids/husband and Wii is me so if they could add some chore friendly apps?  SCORE.  How about virtual grocery shopping?  Virtual Clothes shopping would be good except I could see myself throwing stuff at the tv.

6. A whoopie cushion/farting iphone app - because for some INEXPLICABLE reason FART noises never stop being funny to a guy.

7. A device that gives a small electric shock to people who put their dirty dishes into the sink instead of directly into the dirty dishwasher.  Oh wait, that one is for me.

8. A universal remote that controls 3,421,876,341 devices.

9. A 70 million inch plasma tv.

10. A  hug and a handmade card that says, "I LOVE YOU DADDY." 

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Muffdate - TMI Alert

It's been exactly 2 weeks since my Brazilian Bikini Wax and the 'downstairs' is looking like my grandmother's face - not exactly bearded but with a few too many stray hairs to be sexy.  (I'm sorry but this is as close to journalism as I'll ever get.)

So, and you'll never believe this, I am going back next week.  I may need to bring someone to hold me down but I'm going back.  The truth is that I LIKE the results.  I like the fact that I don't have to shave "down there."  I'm hoping that these strays are just hairs that weren't ready to be waxed a couple of weeks ago and when I have them done they'll last a long time.

Also, I like how smooth the parts are that I can't reach while shaving.  The nether nooks and crannies if you know what I'm saying.  Update after next week's adventure.

Love,

Kit

Battle of the Sexes

On Sunday my husband and my two daughters were sitting in the kitchen finishing our lunches.  My two sons had finished already and were in the living room. 

I turned to my daughters and asked, "Are you guys going to help me plant tomatoes?"

In unison they answered, "YES!"

"I knew I could count on you." I told them.

My 3 year old nodded.  "And not the boys." she added.

My husband jumped in, "They're not here to answer." he said.

"But boys are lazy." I prodded.

My husband glared at me.  "Don't turn my daughters into man haters."

"Okay." I agreed. Then I turned to my daughters and said, "Not ALL boys are lazy.  Just OUR boys."  I laughed.

My husband glared again.  "Is THAT how it's going to be?"

I rolled my eyes at him and, continuing to make eye contact with him yelled over my shoulder, "Hey boys, want to help me plant tomatoes?"

I got a resounding "NO!" from my younger son.

My husband laughed and said, "The funny thing is that <the oldest> was too lazy to even answer!"

Spring Break 1991: Mexico

My mother has always had a thing for vacations.  Since I was 11 we went on a big family vacation to "someplace warm" every year during the long New England winter.  Sometimes it was Florida in April, sometimes it was a cruise ship in February but we always came back with a tan when everyone else was pale and cold.

My sophomore year in college I was afraid that I was out of luck.  My spring break was not going to coincide with my brother and sister's high school vacation and there was no way my mother was going to let any of us skip school.  INSTEAD, she took us to Mexico the day after Christmas so that we could spend our vacation together on the beach.

The highlight of our flight down was a newlywed couple who made a big show of squeezing themselves into the restroom together to join the mile high club.

Then we got to the hotel - it was gorgeous - and all inclusive!  I had just started drinking in college and I hadn't really gotten the hang of it - especially of the garbage they served in the hotel bar.  I was drinking Tequila Sunrises and singing "Just another tequila sunrise" over and over and over (it was the only line I knew) until my sister and brother both threatened to throw me into the pool if I didn't shut up.

I did shut up but I didn't stop drinking.  Eventually my sister went back to the room we shared while my brother and I stayed up.  My poor sister, who didn't drink at all, had no idea what to think in the morning when she woke up to find lettuce in the toilet.  She thought that I'd gotten ebola and that my dinner had gone right through me.  She didn't stop to consider what had actually happened - that it had come out the way that it had gone in - I had been up ALL NIGHT vomiting.

This may have been the highlight of the trip except that my hungover brother woke up at 10:30am and make the mistake of eating the breakfast burritos that were STILL on the buffet.  6 hours later he was doubled over in his hotel room with a case of Montezuma's revenge that made my vomiting incident childsplay.  They had to summon a doctor to the hotel to give him a shot and an i.v.  My mother came out to tell us that he was lying in bed shaking and singing Tequila Sunrise.

Luckily for him he was so sick that he missed my sister's performance of Bobby McGee at the hotel talent show. She sounded like a feral cat with a trap on it's tail.

My brother told me he could hear it from the window and he just covered his ears and went back to vomiting.

You have to love traveling with family.

Spring Break Week : 1990 Communist Russia

School is almost out so I thought I'd take you back to some of my more memorable College Spring Break Trips - you know those drunken, sex filled scenes from Girls Gone Wild? 

Yeah, it turns out that my spring break trips weren't exactly like that...

In 1990 I was a freshman in college and dating a boy that my mother HATED.  The funny thing is that he was wonderful and had fantastic stats (wealthy family, dad a famous doctor, etc.) but in telling her all of these things that I thought she would like, she came to believe that I was infatuated with him and decided he was the devil.

It turns out that he WAS the devil because he taught me not to lie.

And so when my mother asked me, "Are you sleeping with him?" I foolishly answered "yes."  She was inconsolable.  I tried to console her by saying, "He's not my first."  Suffice it to say that that didn't cheer her up.  Not only that but she didn't believe me.  "I don't believe you." she said.  "He wouldn't have done that." referring to my high school boyfriend.

"What?" I asked her dumbfounded.  "He was an 18 year old boy who ADORED me and wanted to MARRY me.  You REALLY don't think he would have slept with me?"

"No." she said - but there was doubt in her eyes.

And then she laid the hammer down, "You're coming home next weekend to study."

I gasped. The following weekend was Spring Fling on campus - a 5 day weekend including a 2 day concert, several days of parties and general bacchanalia. 

"But that's Spring Fling!" I told her.  "It's the biggest weekend on campus!"

Let me tell you that NO ONE wields a guilt trip like my mother.  No one, but me.

She caved.  "Okay" she said, "but the FOLLOWING weekend you are coming home."

"No problem."

What I MAY have neglected to tell her was that I had NO PLANS to go to Spring Fling.  What I had learned VERY quickly from my mother is that while it is very ADULT not to lie, if you are, in fact, NOT a self-sufficient adult, and if your sponsor insists on punishing you for telling the truth, you should ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY LIE YOUR ASS OFF.

Spring Fling was Friday thru Tuesday.  Friday morning my boyfriend and I kick started his car (broken starter = put the car in neutral, push, pop the clutch, jump in) and headed south to New Haven to visit a friend of his at Yale.

Now let me tell you that while I was born in the shadow of Harvard, Yale is where my heart is.  It COULD be the Republican thing, or the secret-society thing, or the fact that I've never had sex in Harvard Yard but HAVE christened a couple of the quads at Yale.  (Wait a sec, scratch that, I HAVE in fact had sex in Harvard Yard.)

Anyway, Yale is BEAUTIFUL and all of my kids are already signed up to go there.  Who cares if they need to score perfect SATs, perform Swan Lake and speak fluent Chinese - oh, and that it will likely cost $250k EACH by the time they're ready.  I love Yale.

So, we drive down to Yale to visit my boyfriend's friend.  He is a bit preoccupied with his studies since 1) he is not on vacation and 2) he goes to YALE and he turns us loose on campus.  We walk around, we go out for lunch, explore.  Then night falls and we hit some parties on campus.  We crash on the friend's floor.  The next day is Saturday and we all hang out together. That night we try to go to some more parties but we can't get in because we don't have Yale ids. We went to a local pizza place.  They serves beer.  I tried out my fake id for the first time.  We drank too much.

I told my boyfriend secrets. I told him about my first vibrator.  He kept refilling my beer. All of a sudden two police officers walked in and sat down at the booth behind us.  The waitress walked up and asked us if we had ids.  We did, and we pulled them out.  She didn't even check them and walked away.  I guess she just wanted to know if we had them.

At midnight the pizza parlor closed and we left.  We tried to get back to our hosts dorm but couldn't find a place to park.  We decided to go home and got on the highway.  I was SMASHED.  He definitely shouldn't have been driving either.  After a few exits he realized that and we pulled off the highway and into - what we thought was an industrial park.  We both got out of the car and peed on the ground.  Then we had CRAZY, LOUD, DRUNK, NO ONE CAN HEAR US SEX.  (The loud one might have been me.)

This is probably a good time to tell you that in college I fell in love with Ayn Rand.  In fact, during our crazy trip to Yale I was reading We the Living, her novel about the Russian Revolution and a heroine named Kira who tries to flee with her lover.  They are captured.

I wake up at 5am in this industrial park in Soviet Russia.  I peek out the window and see low, cement buildings.  I am terrified.  I shake my boyfriend.  "We need to get out of here," I tell him. "They're going to catch us."

"Who?" he mumbles.

"The Russians" I answer.

"WHAT?" he asks me.

I fall back asleep.

When we wake up hours later we realize that directly behind the low, cement buildings are houses.  Lots of houses.  We are both shocked that no one called the police on us the night before.

We went to breakfast.  It was Sunday morning in a nice part of Connecticut and everyone was dressed for church.  I had on a skirt with his very old sweatshirt.  I looked like I was hungover and recently made to scream.  We laughed at those people who were living penny-loafer lives.  (I can't say that I'm not one of them now.)

In the middle of our eggs he turns to me and says, "Did you say the Russians were after us?"

Between the hangover and the eggs and the laughing I almost threw up.

Afterword: While I was engaged in all of this debauchery in Connecticut my mother called to find out how I was enjoying Spring Fling.  The previously mentioned roommate said, "She's not here.  She went out of town for the weekend."  Needless to say, that did not go over well.  I was grounded for most of the summer.