BloggingDangerously

Back to Basics

The nice thing about being married for close to 17 years is that despite your best intentions to keep your inner demons hidden they have probably all revealed themselves to your spouse at sometime over the past 17 years so you really don't have to worry much about it.

Not only that, at sometime around the ten year mark you realize that either those demons are compatible with theirs or it may actually be time to call it quits.

Which is lengthy justification for the following story...

We have a male friend who is a widower with three sons.  He is an amazing man, smart and kind but not so much handsome or svelte.

He has been dating a nice woman for the past year.

We drove by his house early yesterday and his girlfriend's car was parked outside.

"I see she's spending the night." my husband said.

"AWESOME!" I replied.  "They went on vacation together in February. So I think they're hot and heavy.  And that's FANTASTIC!  Those BOYS need a mother!  And HE needs a partner!  and SHE... is willing to sleep with him."

My husband laughed for about ten minutes.

I never knew what they were sniffing for

I had to go to Dallas this week for a meeting.  It was an important meeting but one of the presenters was a British guy whose been in the US for 30 years but has a "just off the boat" accent which I'm pretty sure is just a marketing thing.

Anyway, he also LOVES the sound of his voice and so at some point during his presentation I zoned out. 

I zoned back in in time to hear him say that security these days was all about, "bum sniffing dogs."

"Huh," I thought to myself, "Is that what they're sniffing?"

After picturing dogs walking around airports sniffing passengers bums it finally occurred to me that he had said "BOMB sniffing dogs." which makes a lot more sense but also almost make me laugh hysterically in the middle of his boring presentation so I had to have a fake coughing fit until I was able to excuse myself.

It's tough living in my head.

The Little Things

My son does his homework in my home office so last night I saw him struggle through a lot of it.  When he was finally done he stood up to go to bed and I said, "Ok, goodnight, I love you." and I leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Oh, ok." he said, leaning in for the kiss and then asked,  "You're not going to tuck us in?"

Because every night, I go into the room he shares with his brother and give them each a kiss good night. 

I thought I did it for me but it's nice to know they notice.

Technically Chipmunks aren't Carbs

Since Christmas I've basically become a carb eating machine.  Candy, sure, but bread, Oh!  And with butter, OF COURSE.  Just the thought of it makes my heart race.

That's the carbs.

I told my daughters this morning that I was going to start a carb detox today and that I would probably be biting the heads off of chipmunks by the time they got home.  But that that's okay because, hey, chipmunks aren't carbs!

I'm taking it as a testament to my parenting that they haven't thought enough about dieting to think that was funny.

 

 

And This Is Why You Shouldn't Play Doctor...

I took one of those Compound W "Freeze Your Wart Off" kits and used it to "freeze" off a skin tag on my back because I'm not a doctor but I play one on myself.

It turns out that "freeze" is really false advertising because it's cold as fuck but burns the shit out of whatever it touches, so now I have a cigarette size burn in the middle of my back. If anyone asks I'm going to tell them I got it in prison.

 

ANYWAY, it needs a bandaid but it's hard to doctor your own back so I lay down on my bed and asked my husband to change the bandaid and while he was down there, rub my feet. He changed the bandaid but then instead of the toe tug, he tickled my foot.  So, OF COURSE, I kicked, which was unfortunate because his groin was right at the line of fire.  And then when he bent over in distress, I realized I had kicked him so I moved my foot back and kicked him again in the face.

 

It's always exciting in my bedroom.