A few days ago, we got a package delivered on our doorstep. For me, it is always somewhat exciting to have a package delivered, even when you already know what the package will contain. Therefore, I see this package and squeal 'Oooo! a package was delivered!!!' and pick it up and take it into the house to look at the box more closely.
Once inside I noticed that it had a woman's name on the return label and the address it was shipped from was from Texas. In addition, this box is being shipped to my husband and not me. I sat it on the table and forgot about it for a bit until somewhat later when my husband and I were about to have dinner and were cleaning off the table.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I ask my husband what HE was getting a package from a gal in TEXAS for. He immediately looks perplexed and retorts that he has no idea and wants to know who it's from.
"Well, it looks like her name is Brenda!" I grumpily reply.
"WHO?," he answers.
As I snort my disgust with his inability to answer my question, I exclaim, "Fine! I will just open it myself and find out."
So I take it into the kitchen and find a knife to start opening it as he again asks me who it's from. As I am opening the box, I tell him again. And as I am almost ready to open the box, I steal a line from a State Farm commercial and say:
"She sounds hideous."
My husband realizes what is inside almost at the same time as I say this and starts laughing. Once I open it, I find about six light/dimmer switches he had ordered online for our house.
I stand there for a minute, say a simple "oh" and find somewhere else to be as my husband continues to laugh...
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mother's Day
What IS Mother's Day to *you*?
To me, even though Mother's Day has been created largely for the sake of companies like Hallmark, I still find that it is a day that ANY woman needs.
Yet, I do not feel that this day needs to be a day dedicated solely for women who have children anymore. Perhaps, back in the day it was created, this idea of what Mother's Day is would suffice. But today? I really think we need to revisit what makes a woman happy, and sometimes that is *not* having kids or having a genetic Mom to turn to. To me:
To me, even though Mother's Day has been created largely for the sake of companies like Hallmark, I still find that it is a day that ANY woman needs.
Yet, I do not feel that this day needs to be a day dedicated solely for women who have children anymore. Perhaps, back in the day it was created, this idea of what Mother's Day is would suffice. But today? I really think we need to revisit what makes a woman happy, and sometimes that is *not* having kids or having a genetic Mom to turn to. To me:
- Sometimes having kids is having what women refer to as 'fur' babies.
- Sometimes having a kid is having a godson you make sure you are always there for if/when he needs you.
- Sometimes having a kid is having the maternal instinct to watch out for the neighbor kid to make sure he/she doesn't get into any trouble.
- Sometimes that maternal instinct will spill over into your friends as you watch out for them because you have no family to turn to.
- Sometimes it's that woman you turn to for answers who *becomes* your Mom regardless if your real Mom is alive and/or dead.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Syncing
The other day my husband had a follow up appointment to go to, so I tagged along to make sure I got the 'whole story' of how he was doing, what he should/shouldn't be doing, etc etc. I was happy to note that the DR said almost verbatim what my husband had been telling me. And the other stuff he *kinda* left out? Well, I had done my research on his particular surgery, so the DR just confirmed what I had already learned. That basically, if he just listens to me, he will heal up just fine and dandy =D
So after leaving the DRs office, my husband got in the driver's seat of the truck and decided to try to sync up his cell's music to his truck. After much fussing over trying to do so, he figured out he would have to kick out his iPod he had synced previously in order to sync his cell.
After a series of prompts, he had to name the 'new' thing he wanted to sync, so he says:
"Motorola Ra ra ra ra rrrrazoor."
At this point, I am trying my darndest *not* to remark on what he just said and hurriedly looked out the window, at my cell phone, ANYTHING just so that he didn't see how funny I thought he sounded.
The voice from the truck's speaker answers/asks back:
"You want to sync to....
"Motorola Ra ra ra ra rrrrazoor."
And I lost it..... I sputtered. I snorted. And then I just outright laughed.
And LAUGHED. AND LAUGHED.
He then gets a bit defensive and tells me to quit laughing at him. He tells me that it is not *that* funny.
And I reply:
"Ohh, don't get all in a t-t-t-t-thh-thhithher about it"
And I laugh once again.
Should I be ashamed? Maybe.
Am I? Heck no lol
So after leaving the DRs office, my husband got in the driver's seat of the truck and decided to try to sync up his cell's music to his truck. After much fussing over trying to do so, he figured out he would have to kick out his iPod he had synced previously in order to sync his cell.
After a series of prompts, he had to name the 'new' thing he wanted to sync, so he says:
"Motorola Ra ra ra ra rrrrazoor."
At this point, I am trying my darndest *not* to remark on what he just said and hurriedly looked out the window, at my cell phone, ANYTHING just so that he didn't see how funny I thought he sounded.
The voice from the truck's speaker answers/asks back:
"You want to sync to....
"Motorola Ra ra ra ra rrrrazoor."
And I lost it..... I sputtered. I snorted. And then I just outright laughed.
And LAUGHED. AND LAUGHED.
He then gets a bit defensive and tells me to quit laughing at him. He tells me that it is not *that* funny.
And I reply:
"Ohh, don't get all in a t-t-t-t-thh-thhithher about it"
And I laugh once again.
Should I be ashamed? Maybe.
Am I? Heck no lol
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Yard Work
I am not sure what inspires me to tackle yard work. I am not sure if it is the occasional bouts of caffeine induced highs or as my husband says, I just want to punish myself. Regardless, I decided that the yard needed mowing today - so as soon as I can track down the keys and crank the mower on, I made an effort to check yard work off my list of things to do.
Despite finding a dead bird that looks decayed enough to gross me out, mowing the lawn went fairly uneventfully. However, as soon as I put the mower away, I set about tackling the weeping willow branches that I snipped off the tree the other day. My husband had started a fire and it was my duty to keep it going/clear out underneath the willow tree.
Suffice it to say my husband really had no business starting fires after having surgery 4 days ago. However, it's embarrassing to admit that I really had no business trying to help him out. Yet, even though my lower abdomen and back were hurting, I duck underneath the tree to get the aforesaid branches.
The second handful in, I stand up and turn around and thump the side of my head against a branch I had snipped off previously. As the 'F' word came out of my mouth, I make my exit out from the tree and throw the branches on the fire. When it came to the 5th handful of branches, I started to notice stuff on the ground the branches were laying on/around. Ahhh, cool! Mushrooms! And lookie here, its...
WTF? WHAT is that? I poke it with a branch and it makes a hollow sound. It looks kinda like an egg, but it wasn't - it actually looks like it has some sort of string attached to it. OMG -is that? Gackk!?? A tampon?
I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself I haven't touched it yet (I think) regardless of what it is. Determined to know exactly what it is, I announce to my husband:
"There is something weird underneath the tree."
"Oh?" He answers somewhat disinterestedly.
I spend this time picking a stick to poke it with. It answers back with a thaaampp, thaamppp sound and I am amazed I am unable to penetrate the outside of the freakish white-ish round-ish *thing*. I grab two sticks and balance one on each side to pick it up. One step and it drops. I try again and manage to get a few more steps. And again...
And manage to get it near my husband for him to look at.
"Isn't that a locust shell?" he asks.
Stifling a cry at my effort to get it to its resting spot, I answer: "Well, I was hoping YOU would TELL me what it was."
He kicks it away and I go back to grabbing more branches. And now I sit here drinking a glass of wine and haunted by visions of that *thing* that I am sure to dream about tonight because of my husband's ambiguity.
Despite finding a dead bird that looks decayed enough to gross me out, mowing the lawn went fairly uneventfully. However, as soon as I put the mower away, I set about tackling the weeping willow branches that I snipped off the tree the other day. My husband had started a fire and it was my duty to keep it going/clear out underneath the willow tree.
Suffice it to say my husband really had no business starting fires after having surgery 4 days ago. However, it's embarrassing to admit that I really had no business trying to help him out. Yet, even though my lower abdomen and back were hurting, I duck underneath the tree to get the aforesaid branches.
The second handful in, I stand up and turn around and thump the side of my head against a branch I had snipped off previously. As the 'F' word came out of my mouth, I make my exit out from the tree and throw the branches on the fire. When it came to the 5th handful of branches, I started to notice stuff on the ground the branches were laying on/around. Ahhh, cool! Mushrooms! And lookie here, its...
WTF? WHAT is that? I poke it with a branch and it makes a hollow sound. It looks kinda like an egg, but it wasn't - it actually looks like it has some sort of string attached to it. OMG -is that? Gackk!?? A tampon?
I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself I haven't touched it yet (I think) regardless of what it is. Determined to know exactly what it is, I announce to my husband:
"There is something weird underneath the tree."
"Oh?" He answers somewhat disinterestedly.
I spend this time picking a stick to poke it with. It answers back with a thaaampp, thaamppp sound and I am amazed I am unable to penetrate the outside of the freakish white-ish round-ish *thing*. I grab two sticks and balance one on each side to pick it up. One step and it drops. I try again and manage to get a few more steps. And again...
And manage to get it near my husband for him to look at.
"Isn't that a locust shell?" he asks.
Stifling a cry at my effort to get it to its resting spot, I answer: "Well, I was hoping YOU would TELL me what it was."
He kicks it away and I go back to grabbing more branches. And now I sit here drinking a glass of wine and haunted by visions of that *thing* that I am sure to dream about tonight because of my husband's ambiguity.
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