Over this long, cold, boring winter, I developed some bad habits. The biggest one is leaving the television on all day. I have to turn it on in the morning. I like to watch, or rather, listen to Good Morning America. By the way, have you noticed there are two types of people in this world-those who watch The Today Show and those who watch Good Morning America? I swear. You’ll notice it now. I am so profound. Ahem.
I turn the telly on first thing. I like to hear the local weather seventeen times in case I should need to bring an umbrella or ten or in case that changes and instead there is going to be a blizzard. You just never know and one can never be too prepared. Before, following breakfast, Bird would insist on watching Sesame Street. Once Elmo was over, the TV was off for the day. Now, because we’re busy doing whatever it is we do, I have gotten lax. Also, the days of Sesame Street are long over. Actually, she will watch until the last 20 minutes when Elmo comes on and then she’s over it. It’s as if she has finally noticed what an effing annoying creature he is. Praise the Lord and I didn’t even need to say anything! I feel the need to over-explain having the bleeping idiot box on all day least you should decide to judge me for being ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. Anyway, I like it on for background noise. I suppose it makes me feel like there are others here, like I have coworkers or something. Actually, there is somebody else here but I will get to that another day.
So, Friday was a typical day in our lives with the exception of the guy from the furniture store coming over. You see, the bed I wrote about here-it’s defective! They are giving us a new one! Mother of God! I told him it was the damn mattress! There was a spring sticking out! It was under warranty. That shit never happens to us! We always get screwed. We had a window in which said mattress guy was supposed to come. Bird was busily playing with her babies so I decided to busy myself cleaning. That’s all I do is clean these days. Spring is near!
I’m going about my business when I happen into the living room where Bird has moved on to reading books. On the television is The Doctors. On the screen flashes the familiar parental guidance warning. Subject matter of the following program is blah blah blah. Parental discretion is advised. And, the show is back. They have Dr. Ruth on. WTF? I thought/figured she had to be dead! I remember back in the day when she was popular. The woman was old as dirt. Amazingly, she still looks exactly the same: ancient.
There they sit-the doctors and Dr. Ruth. By the way, who actually finds this program to be informative? These beautiful people who happen to be doctors talking about all sorts of controversial topics. Hmmm…Tangent. I prefer Ellen; she’s on at the same time. Have you noticed there are two types of people? There are those who watch Ellen and those who watch The Doctors. I’m just saying!
Alright, so I can deduce the subject matter is sex based on their guest. Sex. Imagine the people who will find this blog because I wrote sex. Now if I throw in sex with a Chinese midget we’ll really get some visitors! Sex and Depends! Hello! What? Not what you were looking for? Sorry to bother you with shit about my kid, my husband and my boring life! Unfriend! Unfollow! Er!
Dr. Ruth is on my television to talk about sex, I deduce. Maybe she’s going to show the kids how to put a condom on a banana. I have no idea what to expect but my interest is piqued. They show a homemade- looking segment with two beautiful people (of course they are beautiful because those are the type of people on this particular program-no ugly folks in this world). The woman says something to the effect of- we have been married for seven years and we’re bored. We want to bring fruit into our bedroom! Flash back to the doctors-the female says something about not putting the fruit in your vagina or your anus! Now, I have several initial thoughts. The first one-besides my three-year-old, your grandma probably just watched you on television asking about how to incorporate produce into your sex life. Because, we all know, grandmas have nothing better to do than watch television. Have you ever noticed the coincidences between grandmas and housewives? Weird. My second thought is something about the fact they’ve only been married seven years and they are already bored AND the best thing they can come up with is fruit? Really? My final thought-no fruit in the anus or the vagina? So that’s what I have been doing wrong. I’ve had this itch. Huh. Glad I left the TV on! Thank you beautiful people! It appears as though I'm not the only one picking up bad habits this winter.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
WE ARE THOSE PEOPLE!
I love to make fun of myself. I love when other people make fun of me (in theory). I love to make fun of other people (this is especially fun when those we’re laughing about make me feel normal). Now that we’ve covered all that is poking fun, we can move on. No, but seriously, I love a good laugh. So, when Saturday night found us heading to Jackie and P’s house, I knew there would be lots of making fun of others and myself and getting made fun of to be had. Phew!
I should say we are blessed to have great friends. Life is short; my husband works a ton of hours and I’m not wasting time hanging out with folks whose company we don’t enjoy. There are six of us who get together on a regular basis-us, Jackie, P, Malbs and Matt. There are a few other couples who occasionally join us and they are also great (I feel the need to state this for the record-we love you guys). Anyway, the six of us always have a good time. We are on the same wavelength. I love this. These people are the best friends ever. We girls were friends first and then our men became friends so now it’s just great when we all get together (insert cheesy, happy Lifetime Television music here).
We take turns gathering at each other’s homes with the exception of Matt and Malbs because they currently reside with his parents, having just returned from their year-ish in California. Did I mention Malbs is a saint for living with her mother-in-law? That would never happen for most folks. Anyway, we take turns hosting. We get together early so the kids can play (Jackie and P have Annabel who will be two in June). It is glorious when they play because it is every parent’s dream play date. There is no fighting. Nobody is crying. They laugh and they play and it’s perfectly lovely. Alas, I feel as though I’ve done something right as a parent. My child plays well with others! Mostly.
After we put the children to bed (usually late-ish so as they can thoroughly exhaust themselves), we break out the booze and the games. We love board games! This is why we are all friend soul mates! Things is the best! Recently, we discovered Scribblish and, of course there is Catch Phrase and Cranium. Nobody paid me to say these are great games, by the way. I just want to share the joy with others. Occasionally we play cards, namely Euchre. It’s fun. This is where the fun-poking begins. We have all kinds of jokes and things we go at each other for. It’s great! Almost anything is fair game!
This past Saturday was much of the same. Jackie had this drink she wanted me to try. She Googled to find a drink recipe. It was blue and had a ton of alcohol in it. I couldn’t even tell you what all went in there. The name of the drink? Adios Mother Fucker. Yep. I had one. One! I had a bit of a buzz. I’m proud because I had enough sense to only have one. Otherwise, it would have become Comatose Mother Fucker.
The laughs were coming. We were in full make fun of people mode. We were playing Things. We always start with this one. This game requires writing. For some reason, whenever I have a pen, I feel the need to write on Bread. I don’t know why. It’s not a lot. I used to try and give him a tattoo. He told me he did not like that so now I just draw a line. It’s my way of saying, “I respect your wish not to be drawn on and this here line is a reminder of that.” You know, what any logical human-being would do. Well, this time I was absent mindedly doodling on the back of his neck. I didn’t really think about it; it began as me playing with his hair. The next thing I know, I was scribbling. Well, the man lost his shit. He yelled at me like I was a child! I was being childish but still! Stunned silence from everyone. Because, I mean, what do you say when a grown man is chastising a grown woman (technically, I am a grown woman) for drawing on him? This is messed up in so many ways. He even called me Jessica! He never does that. I knew I was screwed. I choked on my beer and spit on the rolls! I ruined the midnight snack!
Mostly there was a lot of awkward silence. I mean, the friends didn’t really know what to say and I don’t blame them-the dude lost his shit. I was pretty much okay with it because I knew we would get over it. I was mostly just surprised because he doesn’t usually do that. At least not in public! I kid, I kid. So anyway, we moved on and Bread was embarrassed but we’re all still friends. I was mostly embarrassed because we have people we make fun of for that shit. Now we were those people! Shit! More fuel for their fires! At least he didn’t beat me!
That brings us to last night. Bird was drawing with a pen at the table. This is her new favorite thing to do. I think it makes her feel like an adult. I was trying to show her how to write her name. We worked on that for a few minutes, she lost interest and moved on. I came by to check on her and she wrote on me! Drew a line right on my shirt! Time out! Time out! Where did she learn this? I look at Bread, who inquires as to what has happened. I explain she wrote on me. He gives me the dad eyebrow raise-head-tilt and says, “Well, I can’t imagine where she learned that from.” Shit. He should have given me a timeout. Dude, sorry I spit on your rolls. I hope we can still be friends.
I should say we are blessed to have great friends. Life is short; my husband works a ton of hours and I’m not wasting time hanging out with folks whose company we don’t enjoy. There are six of us who get together on a regular basis-us, Jackie, P, Malbs and Matt. There are a few other couples who occasionally join us and they are also great (I feel the need to state this for the record-we love you guys). Anyway, the six of us always have a good time. We are on the same wavelength. I love this. These people are the best friends ever. We girls were friends first and then our men became friends so now it’s just great when we all get together (insert cheesy, happy Lifetime Television music here).
We take turns gathering at each other’s homes with the exception of Matt and Malbs because they currently reside with his parents, having just returned from their year-ish in California. Did I mention Malbs is a saint for living with her mother-in-law? That would never happen for most folks. Anyway, we take turns hosting. We get together early so the kids can play (Jackie and P have Annabel who will be two in June). It is glorious when they play because it is every parent’s dream play date. There is no fighting. Nobody is crying. They laugh and they play and it’s perfectly lovely. Alas, I feel as though I’ve done something right as a parent. My child plays well with others! Mostly.
After we put the children to bed (usually late-ish so as they can thoroughly exhaust themselves), we break out the booze and the games. We love board games! This is why we are all friend soul mates! Things is the best! Recently, we discovered Scribblish and, of course there is Catch Phrase and Cranium. Nobody paid me to say these are great games, by the way. I just want to share the joy with others. Occasionally we play cards, namely Euchre. It’s fun. This is where the fun-poking begins. We have all kinds of jokes and things we go at each other for. It’s great! Almost anything is fair game!
This past Saturday was much of the same. Jackie had this drink she wanted me to try. She Googled to find a drink recipe. It was blue and had a ton of alcohol in it. I couldn’t even tell you what all went in there. The name of the drink? Adios Mother Fucker. Yep. I had one. One! I had a bit of a buzz. I’m proud because I had enough sense to only have one. Otherwise, it would have become Comatose Mother Fucker.
The laughs were coming. We were in full make fun of people mode. We were playing Things. We always start with this one. This game requires writing. For some reason, whenever I have a pen, I feel the need to write on Bread. I don’t know why. It’s not a lot. I used to try and give him a tattoo. He told me he did not like that so now I just draw a line. It’s my way of saying, “I respect your wish not to be drawn on and this here line is a reminder of that.” You know, what any logical human-being would do. Well, this time I was absent mindedly doodling on the back of his neck. I didn’t really think about it; it began as me playing with his hair. The next thing I know, I was scribbling. Well, the man lost his shit. He yelled at me like I was a child! I was being childish but still! Stunned silence from everyone. Because, I mean, what do you say when a grown man is chastising a grown woman (technically, I am a grown woman) for drawing on him? This is messed up in so many ways. He even called me Jessica! He never does that. I knew I was screwed. I choked on my beer and spit on the rolls! I ruined the midnight snack!
Mostly there was a lot of awkward silence. I mean, the friends didn’t really know what to say and I don’t blame them-the dude lost his shit. I was pretty much okay with it because I knew we would get over it. I was mostly just surprised because he doesn’t usually do that. At least not in public! I kid, I kid. So anyway, we moved on and Bread was embarrassed but we’re all still friends. I was mostly embarrassed because we have people we make fun of for that shit. Now we were those people! Shit! More fuel for their fires! At least he didn’t beat me!
That brings us to last night. Bird was drawing with a pen at the table. This is her new favorite thing to do. I think it makes her feel like an adult. I was trying to show her how to write her name. We worked on that for a few minutes, she lost interest and moved on. I came by to check on her and she wrote on me! Drew a line right on my shirt! Time out! Time out! Where did she learn this? I look at Bread, who inquires as to what has happened. I explain she wrote on me. He gives me the dad eyebrow raise-head-tilt and says, “Well, I can’t imagine where she learned that from.” Shit. He should have given me a timeout. Dude, sorry I spit on your rolls. I hope we can still be friends.
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