When you really need sugar and by accident find these under your bed! They weren’t all chewy sweet tarts though.
Can you find the ibuprofen hidden in the chewy sweet tarts?
Tag: funny story
Damn! Lost Again!
I’ve gathered a few more new more songs lately. I should say that I didn’t dare share them with my oldest daughter, but I did. The reaction I got was not what I expected. I mean, I guess I really thought she would like at least one of them. Why do I never learn? Isn’t there a saying “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
I downloaded a couple of songs from a band I had heard of recently. I don’t remember how I stumbled upon them. The one I decided to play for Emily was a ballad, a love song of sorts. I thought the soft voice he was singing in was a nice change from the rawness of the other two songs I have of theirs.
Laughing, Emily said, “Oh my god mom, he is so gay! What is your fascination with gay bands lately?”
“What? Why? Why do you think he is gay?”
“I can just tell!”
So I said, “Well, let me play you another one of their songs!”
I was going to show her that there is no way you can know if someone is gay (or the whole band for that matter) by that song. Now all along I know at least the lead singer says he is, but I wasn’t going to let her in on it.
I obviously also have a little competitive streak in me. I didn’t expect to get into a sexual persuasion war, but yet there we were. What was I trying to prove anyway? I’m not sure really. I was, as usual when it comes to my music, offended because she didn’t like what I liked.
I played for her the song, which was opposite of the song she just listened to.
“It’s not my fault I look better in her party dress,” he sang.
THAT WAS THE FIRST LINE!! Damn…why didn’t I remember that?!
Skinny Bitch
My dad told me recently that I am becoming a little cantankerous. You know, speaking my mind, lashing out. He thinks it might be because I work in a middle school and have to deal with all kinds of situations and it has caused me to develop an itchy trigger finger. He may be right about that, but I don’t think so.
I think I’m becoming a skinny bitch.
Skinny bitches are one’s with the attitude because they can fit into a pair of jeans that are at least 20 years younger than they should be wearing. That may not be the exact definition.
My husband commented that my new jeans are “really low” (low rise). He can’t get past the fact that I am not wearing 80’s mom jeans. Though these may be pushing it, I am thrilled I can actually wear them.
I’ve developed a weird body builder quirk. I’m not by any stretch of the imagination saying that I am a body builder I am just acting like one, I guess. This is just getting weirder and weirder, maybe it’s the steroids.
If there is someone acting like they are skeptical of my workouts (real or imagined I’m not sure) I’ll ask them to feel my bicep. And then I say, “And I’m not even flexing!”
Oh God, now that I’ve actually written this down I realize how insane I am acting. And yet still surprised!
Parknaphobia
Among other things in my kaleidoscope brain is a parking phobia. Parknaphopia I believe is the clinical term.
Downtown is the worst. I have always gone to great lengths to find a perfect spot or an open spot. I have been known to walk 16 blocks to my destination because I pulled into the first spot I saw.
When I have to go somewhere new and I suspect there is sub par parking available, I’ll call ahead and casually ask. I hate it when people just flippantly say, “Oh, yeah, there’s parking”. What does that mean exactly? Parking in the rear, on the street, in a garage, where, what? I’m starting to get worried again. I’ll move on.
The strange thing is I do know how to parallel park, but I don’t always have the confidence at the time to try it. If I’m feeling all rough and ready I’ll do it and I’ll do it well. I really don’t have a parking problem as much as I have a self confidence problem you are probably observing. Or, as I am reading back over what I wrote I pretty much have both and it’s when they both collide is when I have a serious problem.
Oh, yeah I also have a little claustrophobia. It’s pretty much hell when I’ve got to park in a parking garage and I’m feeling a little down on myself. One time I actually backed into a cement wall trying to park John’s new dodge truck on the top floor of a parking garage that was downtown on a one-way street. I was trying to get to the top floor to get out from under the 10′ roof that seemed to be getting lower with every floor I went up. I was so flustered by the time I got up there I didn’t see it (the cement wall that is).
Now I wonder if you are wondering how I even get out of bed in the morning with all this to deal with. I’m used to it I guess. It’s probably the reason I need 10 hours of sleep a night, I’m exhausting.
Whiner
Can
anyone
out
there
relate
to
the
pain
of a paper cut on my mouse finger?
Operation Rescue
Having just left work, I flipped the lock button in the door of my car to unlock the hatchback to get out the snow scraper I have back there. I have unlocked and locked my doors maybe thousands of time since I’ve had my 2003 Outback. Then why did I flick it the wrong way and lock all the doors this time?
That is the main question I thought of as I went around to check each door hoping against hope that I hadn’t really done what I knew I had done. Oh, and yes, the car was running!
Inside were my phone, purse and inside my purse were my spare keys!
I tromped back to the school in my sorrel boots from 1993 through the falling snow, wind and slush. I felt the students looking at the boots and snickering.
My sorrels are the only thing left over from my five years in North Dakota (don’t ask) that I can actually appreciate. This morning I got up, took a shower and put on my regular work clothes. Then on my way to the kitchen for coffee I passed by the sliding glass door to see at least 5 inches of snow on the deck and it was still snowing. I didn’t feel like getting changed into jeans so I said “Screw it!”, and went to the garage to dig out my trusty 20 year old sorrels! Good to go.
This is not a story about my sub zero, clunky old boots by the way, although you might think it is with all my goings on about them.
I finally made it back to my desk trying to remember my daughter, Allison’s, cell phone number. I pick her up after school everyday and it is only ten minutes until her bell rings. Now if you remember I left my phone in the car, and since I live in the cell phone age I never actually have to dial a phone number. Instead I called John to see if he could run up the keys to the school. He says Tristan is home and he will. That’s good, but now how am I going to pick up Allison?
My very good friend and office colleague, Geri, offered to drive me to Allison’s school. I accepted and headed out the door with her. We got to the car and I reached in her back seat to get the snow scraper. By opening the door I inadvertently disturbed an overhang of snow that fell on my head and down my coat into my neck! I had to take my glasses off and sit in Geri’s car melting and thanking her profusely while she laughed and shook her head at my predicament.
As we pulled up to get Allison at her charter school, Geri laid on the horn (which is never done) and started to wave her arms frantically to get Allison’s attention. I do the same because she won’t recognize Geri’s car. We looked like a pair of orangutans.
We arrived back at my school just in time to see Tristan as he was arriving with the spare keys. Geri drove us back to my car, I unlocked the doors, put the car into gear, peeled out of the parking lot and drove home.
I felt compelled to write about this day not because of the series of unfortunate events, but I felt really blessed. I don’t realize often enough on a normal day what great people I have around me until I end up really needing it. I guess when I feel lonely or unloved I will remember this day. One of the days when I needed the troops and they rallied. Thank you troops!
Tootsie Rolls
Is it shameful of me to turn my music higher because the voices of my fighting children are bleeding through the music?
I haven’t turned the music that much louder. I can still hear a sharp inflection in one of their voices here and there. I don’t leave the music blaring for very long, my conscience won’t allow me. I tentatively pause my music every two or three minutes and turn it back on when I hear a moment of silence. Unfortunately, I am not totally removed from my family, I can still feel the angry footsteps as they approach.
Tonight the argument is about sorting Halloween candy. My ten year old has just gotten around to dumping out her pillow case full of candy on the floor. My 16 year old, who acts like a 10 year old, is harassing her about giving him the candy he wants before it is thoroughly sorted into piles. I remember how important the sorting was. I asked him if he could remember that far back, have a little empathy. He just gave me a look while loudly chomping on a tootsie roll…..I guess not.
Broken Record
I’m proud to announce that an old record was broken tonight! My old record was getting two children and I ready for work and school from bed to out the door in 30 minutes flat. That includes hair straightening and breakfast!
This is my new record:
4:15 Left for the Physical Therapist appointment scheduled for 4:30.
4:45 Therapist was late. I told him Allison has to be at piano lessons at 5:30.
“How far is it?” he asks.
“Five minutes”, I reply.
“I’ll get you there,” he reassures me confidently.
“Maybe too confidently?” I think nervously.
The therapist called the aide in and they began to “tag team” each shoulder. Handing me some green lens “laser” glasses, the aide started the laser treatment on one shoulder while the therapist began some sort of “gwashing” (phonetically spelled) on the other shoulder. Then they switched.
After ten minutes of that, they began the “electrode” therapy. I wish I could give you the actual medical terminology of these treatments, but would you really care anyway?
5:20 Their bell dinged, time enough to get my coat on and drive across the parking lot to the piano lessons.
5:25 Dropped Allison off at piano lessons.
5:26 Drove to Hobby Lobby to get a poster board for Allison’s science project. Ran into a woman I know from work at the door of the store. I actually parked right next to her in the parking lot before she got out. I didn’t know there was anyone in the car and now I think I might have pissed her off because I drove in kind of fast. I was, as you know, trying to break a speed record.
In the store we exchanged pleasantries:
“Hi, Maggie, how’s it going”? I say wondering if she knew it was me who almost took her car door off.
“Just fine,” she says. Yes, I think she knew it was me.
“This is where all the cool people hang out,” I say pleasantly, feeling her coolness and realizing that was a really lame thing to say.
5:35 Drove to the grocery store and checked my watch, 25 minutes left. I debated with myself and decided to try it. I parked as close as I could to the entrance and collected a shopping cart. I bought juice, bread, cereal, applesauce, yogurt and two packets of gold fish crackers (BOGO). No stories there, it went off without a hitch.
5:55 I arrive back at the piano lessons!
That, my friend, is a new record!
Dog Stories
I had two heart stopping moments yesterday, both with dogs.
My little dog, Henry, is a white miniature poodle. He is a lovely little dog with a ready to play attitude. Unfortunately for us he has psychotic breaks when it comes to the mailman, the UPS man or the FedEx truck. One time he ran out the door and tried to get into the UPS truck! If he wasn’t so short he would’ve done it too! We almost had a block on our house from the post office because he ran out the front door and chased the mailman! I had to go down to the post office and plead my case to the supervisor.
What happened today relates to his severe dislike of delivery people. I just came home from work to eat lunch. I was in the kitchen preparing it when I heard some sort of commotion in the back yard, all sorts of barking and a voice. My heart started pounding! I immediately thought someone (Tristan) had left the back gate open! The mailman had come early and Henry was chewing his leg to the bone!
I dropped my lunchl and ran out through the front door to the gate at top speed! The barking and yelling had stopped as soon as I got there and out trotted Henry with a milk bone sticking out of his mouth! The woman was a meter reader; she didn’t seem bothered at all! I, however, had to go in and have a Margarita with my Lean Cuisine!
My second heart attack of the day came later when I went back to work after lunch. I work in the front office of a school. Once a month or so the drug dogs come to the school to do a sweep of the lockers, etc. They never find anything, thank goodness, but it is great preventative step.
The dog and her handler came into the office to have an invoice signed and give us the thumbs up. There is a tall counter that runs almost the length of the room and my desk sits behind it. The handler and the dog were at the counter. Out of the blue, the massive beast came from around the counter and lunged at my desk. She was so fast I thought she was going over the desk and I instinctively raised my arms to shield my face. The other two people and the handler also had the same idea because everyone gasped! The handler quickly got the leash and the dog under control. She explained that the dog smelled the alcohol in my hand sanitizer. Now, I try to prepare for everything, but I did not see that coming!
In conclusion, I need another Margarita!
How Vain Can I Get?
About 5 months ago my first granddaughter was born. It was out of state so I was staying at my daughter’s house.
Emily and Paul left for the hospital. After a couple of hours Paul called from the hospital to tell me that Emily was in labor and it was time to come down. I had just gotten out of the shower and was just about to blow dry my hair. The dryer broke. Luckily I did finish my bangs first. When my hair air dries it becomes curly in some spots, wavy in spots and straight in yet some more places. I look like I’ve dried it by sticking my head out of a moving car. Oh, well, I thought this isn’t about my hair it’s about the birth of my granddaughter, see how selfless I really am?
We arrived and it was just as Paul had said, Emily was in labor, but only just beginning. She was still lucid and just sitting up. So I mentioned my hair dryer and she casually suggested I use her dryer which was in the bag she had brought for the hospital. At first I resisted because, I mean how vain can you be? Daughter in labor, mother blow drying her hair straight in the bathroom? But I did it anyway, I am ashamed to admit. It didn’t seem so appalling at the time, but in retrospect I really should have refused.
anincidentallife.com 
You must be logged in to post a comment.