Sunday, March 1, 2015

Sensitive Child

The other day, while driving home from somewhere, Kira and I came across an ANCIENT golden retriever walking down the country road by our house.  He was one of the oldest dogs I have ever seen in my life and he was just walking slowly down the road.  I stopped to see if he was okay.  He had a collar on and lived really close so we just left him to go on his way.  I asked Kira if she wished we could keep that dog and she said, "Nah, that's only about a month's worth of dog."


A Regular Saturday

From Sam: 
"Hi Mom, Tyler and I just have to pick up a few things and then we are going over to Tyler's to make a Rube Goldberg machine."



From Kira:
"Sam just got out of the bathroom.  Now is the perfect time to use it.  I like the transferred butt heat." 



They are nice, weird kids.  I'm lucky.  Mainly because I will not have to worry about teenage romance drama, probably ever.  

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Kira in the Car

If I'm ever an exterminator I would wear a snake as belt with its head where the buckle would be. Then I could use the snake like a vacuum for mice. His name would be Trevor.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Kira in the Car


Kira tells me that until yesterday, she didn't know this was a symbol for "throw your trash here," she thought it was a symbol for a story about a juggler giving up on his dreams.



Thursday, December 4, 2014

Justified

I really like chunky peanut butter.  I eat it every single day.  I also do all the grocery shopping.

One day, Mitch asked me to please buy some creamy peanut butter.  I scoffed.  Yeah, right.  Why in the HELL would anyone want that?  What's the point?  I didn't buy it.  He asked again.  I scoffed again.  I bought an industrial amount of chunky.  Then, a few months later it was time to buy more peanut butter.  Mitch, again, asked very nicely if I would please buy creamy peanut butter along with the chunky.  I said, "WHY do you want that?  Chunky is WAY better!"  He explained that he likes a small amount on his toast and he gets more than he wants with chunky.  Would I please just get some creamy?  So, being the dream wife I am, I got him some creamy.

Later that same night, Mitch came downstairs to watch TV with me and he had made himself a little snack: peanut butter toast with creamy peanut butter....  and he PUT NUTS ON TOP OF IT.

I looked at his toast.  He looked at me.  I looked at him, and I said, "I am going to kill you."




(I couldn't even find a stock internet photo of toast with creamy peanut butter with nuts sprinkled on it, BECAUSE NOBODY IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DOES THAT!)

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Me and Amazon: Our First Fight

Christmas shopping begins!  (Ugh.)  I started by asking Amazon for exactly what I wanted by simply typing it in the search bar:



Ha. Ha. Amazon.  You're so funny.  





Yeah, that's right, Amazon, even though we've known each other for YEARS and YEARS, you apparently don't know me.  I do NOT NEED THERAPY.  Not even Street Therapy.  Thanks anyway, you snot.  









No, I didn't say you are NOT Lazy, Stupid or Crazy.  I said you ARE stupid.  Sooooooo stupid.  And Amazon, the Christmas shopping season is not the time to tell me that God thinks I'm stupid.  You're a real asshole.  







No, Stupid, you have to eat.  


Wait, no you don't.  




Geez!  Take it easy!  Cyberbully!



You win.  




(P.S.  I think it's kind of hilarious that it costs exactly $0.00 to read a book about why God thinks you're stupid.)

(That's IF you have KindleUnlimited, and if you do, God probably does think you're stupid.)




Thursday, November 13, 2014

I'm always right.


This morning I opened up my computer and the above Google Doodle popped up.  I didn't know what it meant and just assumed from the stars and space-like background, along with the horse trailer on prongs that someone was, for some reason, sending a horse trailer into space.  

Mitch got up and I showed it to him and said, "Hey look, someone is sending this horse trailer to space for some reason." 

Then he told me all about how it is the Philae Lander that was going to land on a comet.  He told me that it has harpoons on it to hook it to the comet in case it slipped when it landed because comets are made of ice. 

Then came the argument:

Me:  Space ice isn't slippery.  They don't need harpoons.

Mitch:  I'm just telling you what I read about it.  

Me:  Well, come on, space is really really cold.  Ice isn't slippery unless it is warm enough to melt.  It's only slippery when it melts.  

Mitch:  But it's a comet.  It's moving.  And the lander is moving.  It could slip.  

Me:  Maybe, but I'm just saying space ice isn't slippery.  They don't need harpoons.

Mitch: ........ two minutes ago you thought it was a horse trailer.  Why are we arguing about this???

Me:  Horse trailer or not, it's not going to slip.  


It landed today.  It's on the comet right now.  And you know what?  It didn't slip.  

BOOYAH!!!!!



Sunday, November 9, 2014

Scenes From a Marriage

Me:  Mitch!  Where is my rainbow striped infinity scarf?  I can't find it anywhere and I KNOW I had it recently!  Did you put it somewhere???

Mitch:  Well, I know there is a scarf in the laundry room right now, but I don't think it is the one you are looking for.  It is white and it is finite.


Monday, November 3, 2014

Monday, October 20, 2014

Mommy's Precious Angel Baby Boy (Sorry, Sam)



Sam is in his senior year of high school.  Can you believe it?  I can't.  He had his senior pictures taken over the summer.

I remember when he started middle school.  The summer before he started sixth grade at his new school Kira, Sam and I drove over to the school to for a tour.  There was a big sign over the front door that said, "Home of the Hawks!"

Kira looked at it and said, "Hey Sam, when you go here you'll be a hog."

Sam said smugly, "Kira!  That sign says HAWKS, not HOGS!"

Kira said, "...I know what it says."

It was a pretty good burn for a second grader.

The first day of ninth grade I drove Sam to school.  He was a little nervous about starting high school.  We were listening to the radio and a new song came on that I liked so I turned it up to try to lighten the mood.  It was a good song:  happy, lots of whistling.  I didn't understand the lyrics because I'm old, but I thought it was saying something about a bucket.  Sam looked at me like I was weird.  Later I figured out why.  The song I was blasting for my baby on the first day of high school was "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People.  It's all about a kid shooting other kids in a school shooting type scenario.  The lyrics weren't saying, "[something something] my bucket!"  They were saying, "run better run, faster than my bullet"  HAVE A GREAT FIRST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL, HONEY!!!

Pretty soon my baby will be graduating from high school and will be a college boy.  He has big dreams of getting his own place and making tons of money and being an independent man.  I have big dreams of him staying at home and going to the community college a few blocks from my work and carpooling together every single day.

I think some compromises might have to be made.   

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Bear Bait

Hey, guess who never blogs anymore?  Me!  Except for today.  Today I'm blogging.  Here's a funny story for you.  One of Mitch's friends is going to be bear hunting this fall.  Bear hunters leave bait out for the bears for a while before hunting season starts to lure the bears to a certain spot so when the time comes for the hunting to start, it's super easy to go to the local bears' new favorite restaurant and shoot them which I would fully support if panda bears lived around here. Of course, stupid pandas won't eat anything but stupid bamboo so baiting would be pretty boring and easy.  Just like panda bears.  Anyway, Minnesota black bears like to eat what people like to eat so bear bait is pretty good stuff. Pastry and bacon and stuff.

Mitch's friend Frank is going to bear hunting this fall and he's leaving strawberry preserves and granola. Pretty high quality bait!   Way to go, Frank!  Mitch thinks it sounds delicious too so he keeps bugging Frank about where the bait is being left.  Frank won't tell him because he doesn't want Mitch going there and eating it.  Ridiculous, right?  Right.

We were talking about this while eating dinner tonite, and Kira said, "Our neighbor baits bears.  He leaves bacon and donuts."  We were quiet, all of us thinking the same question but not daring to actually say the words.  I think she sensed it, but didn't say anything in her defense because she couldn't deny the question that was on all of our minds, and now, because of her silence, we all know she is out in the woods eating bear bait bacon.

So Frank, where DO you leave your bait???


What would make this delicious breakfast better?  Bear bait, of course!

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Drama

I hate drama and conflict.  I hate when people do things just for the sole purpose of making someone else feel bad so I'm not even going to go into great detail about the drama I have experienced this summer other than to tell you that it has happened at the rowing club between the "elite" set and the amateurs.  What I love about this whole topic is the way that some of the ladies on my team have handled. it.  I love my ladies. Today I'm going to tell you about Leigh.

When a team of my ladies were docking a quad one day, they bumped the dock.  Rowing shells are very delicate so it's never a good idea to run into anything.  Duh.  Everyone knows that, but docking is hard.  The ladies didn't do any damage to the shell, and certainly didn't want to dock the boat badly, but a woman from the more elite group saw it happen and barreled down to the dock and screamed her head off at my ladies. The coxswain in our team's boat, Leigh, is a retired police officer and triathlete.  She interrupted the screamer and told her not to talk to anyone of the ladies until they had gotten out of the boat.  (that's rowing protocol)  Once they got out of the boat Leigh calmly, quietly, and efficiently handled the screamer, reminding her that nobody WANTS to damage shells, mistakes happen, no damage was done, screaming doesn't solve anything, it just pisses people off, and finally she said, "You are not allowed to talk to me again," which is genius.

Another day we were carrying the 8 boat from the lake side and we set it down in slings to dry it off.  The same screamer came out and yelled about how we almost laid the boat down on the impeller (delicate plastic thingy on the bottom of the boat) and "everyone who knows anything knows not to do that."  Leigh handled it again saying, Thank you for your comments, and 1. We didn't lay it on the impeller.  2. If you thought we were going to lay it on the impeller, why didn't you speak up before we did it, and  3. I thought I told you you were not allowed to talk to me again.

I love that woman.

We have pretty accomplished women on our team.  Leigh was pretty high in the police ranks when she retired last year.  We also have a lawyer who is a retired FBI agent, a doctor, and several business owners.  I really can't believe the way that they (we) have been disrespected by a small contingent of other rowers and fellow club members.  I think the problem the other rowers have with our team is that for the most part, the women on our team are fearless.  A couple of our novice rowers (including Leigh) took out a double sweeper boat last week.  People were up in arms about it because usually it takes rowers three or four years to advance to that level.  It went fine.  They did very well.  It's not rocket science, it's moving a boat.

I think we need to start going to board meetings.  Well, the other ladies can.  I don't like conflict.  ;)