BloggingDangerously

Bribery comes in many forms, I guess

I love the beach.  This results in massive amounts of sand in my car.  I generally don't mind but my car got EXTREMELY wet a month ago so I had to take my floormats out.  At which point I saw that all of the sand I thought had mysteriously disappeared had gone through the floormat to the floor of my car.  My husband was kind enough to shop vac cubic feet of sand out of my car and Febreeze the inside to combat the damp smell the wet had caused.  Unfortunately the floor mats were left on the driveway to dry (by me) and were not brought in before a massive rainstorm that drenched them  So I had to move them to the garage to dry for about a month.  (Okay, it didn't take that long but I sort of lost track of them.)  I kept going to the beach, however, so now my car is full of sand again.

This morning over a breakfast of homecooked french toast, I asked my husband, "now that summer is over, will you shop vac my car again and put the floor mats in?"

"No." he said.  

"Please." I cajoled.

I can't remember what I offered in exchange for his service (something vanilla, the girls were in the room) but he rejected my offer and said, "If that's all you're going to offer you may as well throw some food at me."

As he mopped the french toast off his shirt he clarified that he meant I could cook for him.

I thought the flying french toast was just me trying to give the man what he asked for.  

Oh, hey there, didn't I used to know you?

Sorry it's been a while.  It's sort of busy around here.  The kids are old.  Well, not old, that's me. Ha.

Anyway...

Yesterday was Halloween.  My oldest, FIFTEEN, didn't go trick or treating because he had crew practice until 7:30.  When he got home he proceeded to insult my mermaid costume.  #Rude.

At one point, people were walking by but they didn't come to the door.  "Why didn't they come to the door?" I asked. 

He looked me up and down, "Maybe because you scared them?" he offered.

"Don't be ridiculous," I answered, "what kind of a pansy is afraid of a mermaid?"  Then I paused and lunged at him while roaring as loud as I could.  He jumped a mile.  I'm pretty sure we both peed a little, but at least I was laughing.

Sometimes I Should Just Stop Talking

So.  

How have you been?  

Apparently I've been on hiatus.   It wasn't really one of those things I DECIDED NOT to DO - writing.  I just didn't make a point of DOING it and so it didn't happen.  Like so many things...

But lately there have been a few times when I thought, "I NEED TO TELL THEM THIS" but then I remembered that I wasn't blogging any more and so I felt like I couldn't.

But then I KEEP getting the bill from my blogging service provider so I'm pretty sure I can.

Anyway, here's one of the things that happened to me today.

I need to have some windows replaced in my house.  I called a contractor 10 months ago and apparently he sent the proposal so the wrong email address and I just realized it in May so I called his office and started working with his admin to get the contract, get it signed and schedule the work.

But then I went on a TRIP to Kentucky for a month and didn't have a printer or a fax machine so, oops.

Anyway, I'm back now and finally emailed the paperwork over last week but you can't email credit card numbers so I had to call today to pay for the work.

So I called today and asked the admin, "Did you get my paperwork?"  Well honestly she sounded like she was walking around her kitchen in her slippers smoking a cigarette and she said, "I don't know.  I'll check my email and get back to you."

Just as I was feeling a little concerned, she added, "My nephew was in a car accident last week and died and my *static-but-I-thought-she-said-cat* is in intensive care at Tufts.  One more thing."

I was so horrified that I was disturbing this woman in her grief that I just started stuttering and saying, "ok, call me when you can."

And she said, "Ok I'll call you Friday" and then I got so discombobulated I just said, "I hope everything is okay with your nephew." and hung up.

And then I said to myself, "Oh My God.  Her nephew DIED it's not going to be ok.  I should have said CAT."

Good to know I'm not any suaver than the last time you saw me, isn't it.

This is Why He Can't Have Nice Things

My husband occassionally complains that he doesn't get more head.

At these times I remind him that somewhere around his 37th birthday he went from being a super sex machine to being a one-a-day guy.  AND then I argue that if I am able to choose the way in which he spends his one, I am not going to choose the way that least benefits me.

At which point he nods reluctantly and grumbles about how there's no reason we couldn't START that way.

So Saturday night, after my half marathon was cancelled, I found myself with some extra time on my hands.

We started the way he wanted but after a few minutes it became clear that he was perfectly willing to let things continue this way indefinitely.  So I reminded him sweetly, "if it ends this way, it's your last.one.ever."

"Ok, ok" he said.  We transitioned to something more mutually beneficial.

But about 30 seconds in he warned me, "I'm already there."

So I told him, "THIS IS WHY YOU CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!"

Luckily his laughter slowed things down enough that I managed to catch up and pass him.

 

Dominant

We've been playing this game at dinner where from the time the last person sits down until you're out you can't say the word, "no."  If you say it everyone else calls you out.  Last man standing wins.

You'd be surprised how disadvantaged parents are at this game since that's all we every say.  Apparently.

Anyway, tonight I was ALSO trying to explain gene theory to my children.  It started with a question about why some people's ear lobes were attached to their heads and why some people's weren't.  Specifically some people AT THE TABLE.

So we dumbed it down to eye color because I don't know how many gene pairs make up ear lobe attachment and honestly the kids did pretty well following along.

Well, I THOUGHT they did until the baby (NOW 8!) asked my husband in an uncertain voice, "So if I hold my earlobes against my head, will they become attached?"

Sypathetically he answered her, "no."

The questioning baby face disappeared in an instant.  "You're out." she told him.