Tag Archives: funny

The Smell of Winter

I wasn’t just trying to get off the phone.  It was an emergency.  Something reeked. I had to find it.  “Mom, I have go to go, something smells like mildew or something!!”

I emptied out under the sink.  Nothing was leaking. It didn’t actually smell under there at all.

Earlier in the week we’d had a party. The dog was generously fed by everyone. In the following few days I think I said “Jeeezus, Fisher.  Man.  What did the dog eat?” about 857 billion times.  It smelled.  Bad.  Really bad.  Dog fart bad.

I have a top loading washing machine and I don’t close the top when I am not running it.  I don’t use the $7 tablets to wash my washing machine.  I just run a  load with bleach every now and again and I figure it is clean.  But this week I stood in front of the Affresh tabs for about 17 seconds (which with a toddler in tow at the grocery store feels like a millenium.) Because something smelled really bad when I was doing laundry.

The smell. It was following me.

My offspring are strange little beings.

My offspring are strange little beings.

When I was pregnant with Lucy I went on an all out rampage until I found one. single. mothball.  This was no mothball.  This was a bad, bad smell and I was going to find it.

Last week I pulled a rosary from Lucy’s mouth.  It was weird and frightening in the same way that those magicians pulling the scarves from their mouths can be, with an added bonus of overt religiosity.  I mentioned this on Facebook and several of my friends wanted to know why there was a rosary in my house to begin with.  I explained it away quite simply.  My husband has all brands of religious artifacts. He keeps most of them on an altar high up on a bookshelf.

I don’t mess with his stuff and he lets me write about our deepest darkest secrets on the internet.  We have an understanding. So when he said “I found the smell” sheepishly I had no idea it had been coming from his altar.  I had no idea what was even up there.

He could have just thrown it away.  He could have kept it a secret and I’d have been convinced the smell had gone dormant in the cold and I’d have worried and wondered about what was rotting under the floorboards of the kitchen for months.

But instead he told me.

I’m not trying to tell you what to do.  And I will admit that our family has had great juju, good times, lots of laughs and a relative absence of negativity in the last several months. I’m just saying that if you put AN EGG ON A SHELF IN YOUR KITCHEN DON’T LEAVE IT THERE FOR MONTHS.  Because it will eventually stink.  And your wife will be the only one that can smell it at first.  And she will start to lose her ever-loving mind.

But your trash cans will get cleaned out.  I suppose that’s a plus.

Whatever your religious and spiritual pursuits have you doing this holiday season I hope you remember where you put your egg!!!  Merry Christmahanakwanzika, y’all and enjoy your Yule and Winter Solstice tomorrow!


You can call me Mom, the Yes Man

Sometimes you want to be the parent that says yes.  So this morning when Em said “Can we go to Dunkin Donuts?” I just said “Sure” before I could change my mind.

Thirty minutes later we were eating donuts and hanging out at the swanky truck stop near our house when she said “Do you think I will ever get to play that game?” and pointed to the money robbing machine where you put a dollar in and try to grab a stuffed animal with the crane.  I said yes again.

It was a good morning.  Em was talking us up. Hopped up on donuts and orange juice she was even chattier than normal.

“Why do they make those machines so that you can never win? The man that owns that machine should just do something and get a job to make money instead of taking everyone’s dollars.  Do you think I should pack three or four outfits for while we are gone.  I think four.  Do you know why I always pack an extra outfit?”

“In case you pee your pants?” I said.

“No, because…”

And MQD interrupts to say “I once knew a DJ named MC Pee Pants”

And she burst in to tears.

“Why can’t I ever finish what I am saying without getting interrupted?  You guys are constantly acting crazy and saying crazy things and I am just being normal?!!”

And so it has begun.  We are no longer funny.  Poor kid.  It is going to get so much worse before it gets better.

From earlier this morning, when I was still funny.

From earlier this morning, when I was still funny.

Big Books

This post is dedicated to the lovely Sara at Laments and Lullabies. 

She is the Salt to my Pepa, the DJ Jazzy Jeff to my Fresh Prince.  


Last week I was in the car with my girls and their friends, two older girls from down the street. Butt jokes were being made.  Naturally.  One of Emily’s pals says “I like big butts and I can not lie!”  Emily, too young to have ever heard Sir Mix-A-Lot at her eighth grade formal, began to guffaw. I am not certain where her friend had heard it but before I could stop myself the rest of the song was tumbling out of my mouth “You other brothers can’t deny that when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung!!”  I may or may not have been dancing in my seat.  The girls in the backseat were laughing.  But her friend in the front seat was giving me the side eye.

“I love that song,” I said.  I hit play on my CD player and because Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Baby Got Back is the first track on Monster Booty Jams and because that CD has lived permanently in my car for a decade I knew it would immediately begin to play.   The girls got quiet and listened.  “This song is the best,” I said.

“They only talk to her, because, she looks like a total…” and I hit stop.  “Actually, this song might not be a listen-to-it-with-someone-else’s-mother kind of song.”

So when the picture above came through my Facebook feed I was primed and ready for a Baby’s Got Back inspired giggle.

And just like those kids in my car I really need only the smallest amount of encouragement.

My friend, Sara, said “You other readers can’t deny.” (Yeah, that’s right.  My pal, Sara, of Laments & Lullabies fame!) And we were off to the races.

Day 97 of This Book Will Change Your Life told me to become a rapper.  Ummm.  Done.  Check, Checkity check check… the MIC!

Me: When a book walks in with a nitty gritty theme and puts those word things in my face I get sprung!

Sara:  ‘Cause you notice that book was stuffed, Deep in the shelves of learnin’, I’m hooked and I can’t stop turning, Pages, I wanna get with ’em … And take their ISBNs

Me:  Oh. My. God. Becky, look at that book. It’s SO good. It’s, like, on the best seller list. But who even reads, anyway? They only buy it because Oprah said so.

Sara: Slow in the middle but it’s got a lot of plot.

Me:  I’m tired of magazines. Saying paperbacks are the thing. Take a librarian and ask her that – she says microfiche are where it’s at!

Sara: So, readers! (Yeah!) Readers! (Yeah!) Has your library got the book? (Hell yeah!) Tell ’em to stock it! (Stock it!) Shelve it! (Shelve it!) Check out that hefty book! ‘Brary got books!

Me: So you can’t put down that novel, to get fed your kids got to grovel. But the novel don’t care if your house is a hovel. My intellect don’t want none unless you’re classic lit, hon!

Sara:  But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna *read* Till the break of dawn Book’s got it goin’ on…