Quote of the day:
My husband and I were watching a news story about pregnancy and preparing one's animals for the changes coming to the house. In the story, the newscaster reminded women that they shouldn't clean the litter box because of a risk of birth defects caused by a toxin in cat turds.
My husband's response as he catches the end of it: "Wait, so if you're pregnant, you shouldn't handle feces?"
Monday, January 11, 2010
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Ohh, You Mean THAT Fall Harvest
I just got off the phone with my dad and need to relay part of our conversation, which I attempted to transcribe word-for-word as we talked.
First, some context: My parents belong to a rather conservative church. This church does regular babysitting nights called Parents' Night Out. With Halloween fast approaching, the next Parent's Night Out is meant to coincide with it. However, given the conservative nature of the church, Halloween is a bit scandalous. You know, witches and devils and demons and pranking and wasting perfectly good toilet paper on trees and whatnot. What follows is our conversation about this event.
Dad: Oh, and we've got the next Parents' Night Out coming up. This one is Fall Harvest Costume Night.
Me: Fall Harvest Costume Night, eh?
Dad: Yes, Fall Harvest Costume Night. Not Halloween. Fall Harvest Costume Night.
Me: Uh huhhh.
Dad: I need to go help your mom soon. I'm supposed to be helping her with these skeleton pieces we're going to be using to put on top of the food.
Me: You know, when I think of the bounties of the harvest season, I so often think of skeletons. Never with Halloween. Just the harvests.
Dad: Oh yes. And we've also got the Fall Harvest black cat pinata full of candy.
Me: (laughing)
Dad: And the Fall Harvest TP wrap to make mummies.
Me: (continued giggling)
Dad: Also, there will be a Fall Harvest costume parade of good little witch farmers and little goblin farmers.
Me: Breathtaking.
Who ever said church people can't subvert the system? Priceless.
First, some context: My parents belong to a rather conservative church. This church does regular babysitting nights called Parents' Night Out. With Halloween fast approaching, the next Parent's Night Out is meant to coincide with it. However, given the conservative nature of the church, Halloween is a bit scandalous. You know, witches and devils and demons and pranking and wasting perfectly good toilet paper on trees and whatnot. What follows is our conversation about this event.
Dad: Oh, and we've got the next Parents' Night Out coming up. This one is Fall Harvest Costume Night.
Me: Fall Harvest Costume Night, eh?
Dad: Yes, Fall Harvest Costume Night. Not Halloween. Fall Harvest Costume Night.
Me: Uh huhhh.
Dad: I need to go help your mom soon. I'm supposed to be helping her with these skeleton pieces we're going to be using to put on top of the food.
Me: You know, when I think of the bounties of the harvest season, I so often think of skeletons. Never with Halloween. Just the harvests.
Dad: Oh yes. And we've also got the Fall Harvest black cat pinata full of candy.
Me: (laughing)
Dad: And the Fall Harvest TP wrap to make mummies.
Me: (continued giggling)
Dad: Also, there will be a Fall Harvest costume parade of good little witch farmers and little goblin farmers.
Me: Breathtaking.
Who ever said church people can't subvert the system? Priceless.
Monday, June 22, 2009
What Planet are You From?
I've said before that I secretly judge people on their spelling and grammar. I can't help it. I just do. I feel like everyone who speaks English--everyone--should have at least a rudimentary grasp of the difference between "your/you're" and "to/too." It's just...well...it's just 2nd grade English, and no one over the age of eight should be making such errors on a regular basis.
I was reiterating my frustration about this with this to Y, who shares my ire despite the fact that his first language isn't even English. His response: "I know, I know! I have college students who can't even speak, let alone write! I know it's math and all, but come on! I shouldn't have to give college students a quiz on the difference between 'accept' and 'except.' When they say and write stupid things, I just want to say, 'What planet are you from? Kentucky?!'"
I was reiterating my frustration about this with this to Y, who shares my ire despite the fact that his first language isn't even English. His response: "I know, I know! I have college students who can't even speak, let alone write! I know it's math and all, but come on! I shouldn't have to give college students a quiz on the difference between 'accept' and 'except.' When they say and write stupid things, I just want to say, 'What planet are you from? Kentucky?!'"
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Joy of Marital Insults
Today, Y and I were getting ready to go out for a bit. I was sitting upstairs waiting for him to finish getting dressed when I noticed he had a zit. This, friends, is the conversation that ensued:
Me: "You gonna do something to cover up that monster? It's makin' me sick!"
Y then pretends he's going to gently smack me in the face as he laughs for me to shut up.
I hide my face, replying, "Nooooo! It took me so long to get it this beautiful for going outside!"
Y's response as he points to my face: "That's the best you could come up with, eh?"
Heh, ohhhh well played, dear husband of mine. Well played.
Following our excursion together, I went out by myself to get my hair cut and run a couple of other errands. While getting my hair cut, I was chatting with the stylist. At one point, she asked me, "Do you find you have a lot of strangers coming up to talk to you?" I replied that I did, that I attract weirdos like it's my calling in life. What follows is the exact conversation as it happened, and I hope you'll understand why it amused me so, so much.
Her: I thought so. You've got a very inviting voice. Like a voice that attracts people.
Me: Really? I dunno. All I know is that I must give off SOME vibe that makes strangers come up to me and talk to me about their probation hearings and oozing sores and whatnot.
Her: Nah, really. It's charming. It's like one of them....one of them things. What they call em? Sirens?
Me: Like a tornado siren? AAAAHHHHHHHHHH. [That was my impression of a tornado siren.]
Her: Nah, like one of them voices that attracts people to it and then sucks them in so they can't escape.
Me: [laughing] Ohhhhhh! Like the Sirens from The Odyssey.
Her: Oh GUUUUUURL, that's it! Have you seen that movie? Honey, that movie was tight! It's been a long time since I seen it, but that movie was tight!
Me: I've not seen the movie, but I read the original written version.
Her: GUUURL, na uh! That was a book too?
Oh my.
Ok, so after THAT I went to Sephora to buy Y's sister some makeup as a gift for when we go visit next week. (When you go to Sephora, you can get 3 free samples of just about anything you want. This will come into play momentarily.) When I got there, I asked a saleslady to help me pick makeup for Y's sister, because she's got lovely golden olive skin and I'm sure we've already established that I know nothing about the joy of that kind of skin to be able to pick makeup for it. So this saleslady helped me for a while, and as she finished helping me find things for the gift, she said, "Now what can I get for YOU as far as samples go?" I told her I wasn't really looking for anything for myself. She looked at me kind of cockeyed and then said, "Hmm...how about skincare? Sit tight, I'll be right back!" When she came back, she gave me three small jars containing 1. a mild cleanser, 2. acne spot-treatment, and 3. oil mattifying cream. Gee, thanks for the ever-so-subtle hint, lady.
Me: "You gonna do something to cover up that monster? It's makin' me sick!"
Y then pretends he's going to gently smack me in the face as he laughs for me to shut up.
I hide my face, replying, "Nooooo! It took me so long to get it this beautiful for going outside!"
Y's response as he points to my face: "That's the best you could come up with, eh?"
Heh, ohhhh well played, dear husband of mine. Well played.
Following our excursion together, I went out by myself to get my hair cut and run a couple of other errands. While getting my hair cut, I was chatting with the stylist. At one point, she asked me, "Do you find you have a lot of strangers coming up to talk to you?" I replied that I did, that I attract weirdos like it's my calling in life. What follows is the exact conversation as it happened, and I hope you'll understand why it amused me so, so much.
Her: I thought so. You've got a very inviting voice. Like a voice that attracts people.
Me: Really? I dunno. All I know is that I must give off SOME vibe that makes strangers come up to me and talk to me about their probation hearings and oozing sores and whatnot.
Her: Nah, really. It's charming. It's like one of them....one of them things. What they call em? Sirens?
Me: Like a tornado siren? AAAAHHHHHHHHHH. [That was my impression of a tornado siren.]
Her: Nah, like one of them voices that attracts people to it and then sucks them in so they can't escape.
Me: [laughing] Ohhhhhh! Like the Sirens from The Odyssey.
Her: Oh GUUUUUURL, that's it! Have you seen that movie? Honey, that movie was tight! It's been a long time since I seen it, but that movie was tight!
Me: I've not seen the movie, but I read the original written version.
Her: GUUURL, na uh! That was a book too?
Oh my.
Ok, so after THAT I went to Sephora to buy Y's sister some makeup as a gift for when we go visit next week. (When you go to Sephora, you can get 3 free samples of just about anything you want. This will come into play momentarily.) When I got there, I asked a saleslady to help me pick makeup for Y's sister, because she's got lovely golden olive skin and I'm sure we've already established that I know nothing about the joy of that kind of skin to be able to pick makeup for it. So this saleslady helped me for a while, and as she finished helping me find things for the gift, she said, "Now what can I get for YOU as far as samples go?" I told her I wasn't really looking for anything for myself. She looked at me kind of cockeyed and then said, "Hmm...how about skincare? Sit tight, I'll be right back!" When she came back, she gave me three small jars containing 1. a mild cleanser, 2. acne spot-treatment, and 3. oil mattifying cream. Gee, thanks for the ever-so-subtle hint, lady.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
I Giggle
So we're watching the NBA Finals, and it's riddled with commercials for the new Harry Potter movie. Exasperated, my husband just remarked, "Look at those kids! They're freaking college-aged now! What's next? Harry Potter and the Sacred Unpaid Internship? God!"
Sometimes he has fabulous one-liners.
Sometimes he has fabulous one-liners.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Meet Butters.
Butters belongs to Anne and Stacy, two of my favorite people on the planet. Butters and I have something of a love-hate relationship. That is, he apparently loves to get in my bag while I'm gone and gnaw my mouth guard (which I wear at night to keep from grinding my teeth) all to hell. And I hate that.
This occurred over Spring Break in March. If you can believe it, several people suggested I continue to use it like this, including a dental assistant at my dentist's office. Um, no, thank you.
Today, I finally received my replacement mouth guard. Isn't it swanky? It's like the Cadillac (or if you are of my car-loving persuasion, the Toyota Prius) of mouth guards. Note the smooth, glossy surface and shallow custom grooves for a more comfortable fit. It even has my name laser etched on it! Oh yes, believe it.
Ahhh...all is right with the world again.
In quote of the day news, today's long-awaited quote comes from one of my students. It's the end of the school year and my classes are all finished with their work, so I gave them a free day. We went outside and I let the kids relax, play, read, or do whatever. I also took the game Apples to Apples with me. (If you're not familiar with this game, have shame. It's a word association game, and it's delightful. Don't worry about the details.) I played a few rounds with a small group of students, and at one point a girl threw out a card labeled "Clark Gable." The card gave a very brief summary of who Clark Gable was (including his birth and death years), and the girl loudly announced to me, "Mrs. S, I don't know who this is, but the dates are really old so I'm sure you'll know who it is."
Butters belongs to Anne and Stacy, two of my favorite people on the planet. Butters and I have something of a love-hate relationship. That is, he apparently loves to get in my bag while I'm gone and gnaw my mouth guard (which I wear at night to keep from grinding my teeth) all to hell. And I hate that.
This occurred over Spring Break in March. If you can believe it, several people suggested I continue to use it like this, including a dental assistant at my dentist's office. Um, no, thank you.
Today, I finally received my replacement mouth guard. Isn't it swanky? It's like the Cadillac (or if you are of my car-loving persuasion, the Toyota Prius) of mouth guards. Note the smooth, glossy surface and shallow custom grooves for a more comfortable fit. It even has my name laser etched on it! Oh yes, believe it.
Ahhh...all is right with the world again.
In quote of the day news, today's long-awaited quote comes from one of my students. It's the end of the school year and my classes are all finished with their work, so I gave them a free day. We went outside and I let the kids relax, play, read, or do whatever. I also took the game Apples to Apples with me. (If you're not familiar with this game, have shame. It's a word association game, and it's delightful. Don't worry about the details.) I played a few rounds with a small group of students, and at one point a girl threw out a card labeled "Clark Gable." The card gave a very brief summary of who Clark Gable was (including his birth and death years), and the girl loudly announced to me, "Mrs. S, I don't know who this is, but the dates are really old so I'm sure you'll know who it is."
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Only in America
Put yourself in my shoes. I'm walking through Walgreens as I wait on a prescription. Meandering through the aisles, I giggle at the As Seen on TV products. I turn down another aisle and chuckle over the advancements in "Family Planning" products. I move on. As I round the corner into a fresh aisle, something catches my eye. "Did I just see the word 'paternity?'" I ask myself.
I stop and scan the shelf again. I'm about to give up looking when what to my wondering eyes should appear but the tiny little box with the words I knew I had caught a glimpse of: DNA Paternity Test. Retail price: $29.99. Don't believe me? See for yourself.
People, Walgreens is selling a paternity test. Just...let that sink in. We can now willy nilly go to the drug store and say to ourselves, "Shampoo--check. Ibuprofen--check. Oh, and while I'm here, I suppose I should go ahead and start on that 'find out who impregnated me' list." Has it really come to this? Does Maury Povich realize his empire could be toppled?
*sigh*
I stop and scan the shelf again. I'm about to give up looking when what to my wondering eyes should appear but the tiny little box with the words I knew I had caught a glimpse of: DNA Paternity Test. Retail price: $29.99. Don't believe me? See for yourself.
People, Walgreens is selling a paternity test. Just...let that sink in. We can now willy nilly go to the drug store and say to ourselves, "Shampoo--check. Ibuprofen--check. Oh, and while I'm here, I suppose I should go ahead and start on that 'find out who impregnated me' list." Has it really come to this? Does Maury Povich realize his empire could be toppled?
*sigh*
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