My future daughter-in-law, I am so sorry

My Dear Daughter-in-Law,

I write this letter in complete embarrassment. I am thankful you love my son for all of his fine qualities. The boy was always so lovable and very affectionate as a young child. So much so that I apologize for the way he may kiss you. His intentions are good but his teacher was terrible!

Have a DOG-GONE Great Day!

I know.......a real knee slapper!

Wrong Tube of Toothpaste

Oh this is going to be such a long summer. I so desperately need to get my Big G involved in something. Crafts, arts, exercising, something other than his Wii, the daily dip in the pool, and his short stint of cartoons for the day.

This morning while we were all rushing around trying to get ready to take my car into the dealership for some much needed warranty work I hurried Big G into getting ready as well. The boy is a well known putz. He can putz like no other if the whip is not cracked.

Being that I am whip cracking, ball busting Mom extraordinaire, I told him he had to put his shoes on and brush his teeth.

He was taking exceptionally longer than normal to brush the few teeth he has not lost yet and that have not yet come in.

I run into the bathroom to ask what was taking so long!

To find this:

Now I can see how this looks like your standard tube of toothpaste. But upon further investigation.....I found that the tube was really:

Now to my complete HORROR and shock I asked if he had swallowed any to which he said no. Luckily I caught him in time. I then washed his mouth out as fast and as much as I could. Made him spit out as much nothing as he could and then made him brush his teeth with the correct tube. The actual toothpaste.

Later I pondered what made him think that was toothpaste. I know the only way he could have thought it was toothpaste is because of the tube itself. But the hydrocortisone was actually with the Neosporin and all the other medicinal items. Which told me he had to really really look and climb to reach this, when the toothpaste rests right there on the sink. Big G also told us he happened to brush his teeth with this yesterday!! YIKES. We are so lucky he didn't become deathly ill from brushing his teeth with the cortisone cream. We are also just as lucky he didn't reach for the tube of hemmoroid cream!! DOUBLE YIKES!!

Dirty Jobs

Mom's always have the luxury of the dirty jobs in the house. Not sure why....but we do.

Mine include picking up the land mines my bulldog has strategically placed in the backyard when attempting to play with the kids (poo on foot..YUM), laundry....definitely a dirty job, taking the trash to the curb (DH attempts to on most weeks but forgets), of course changing dirty diapers.

But one job appears to be the taboo in some households.....but not mine.

The other night while giving the Squids their nightly bath, DH was so kind to draw the bath for the little gnomes and proceed to wash them while I did dishes. (Another dirty job)
I walked in just when Pickles Magoo was set to be dried off and readied for jammies (another dirty job.....here is why) when I noticed he had what appeared to be a bit of a rash.
Not your typical splotchy rash, but one that was a solid red.....and in the worst spot.
Right on his "junk" as referred to by Big G and DH.
Yes, the poor boy had a solid red looking rash right on his baby testicles. Upon further investigation I found that he was probably just a tad chapped from his diaper and that the rash would clear once we dried him off and put in a fresh diaper.

So I went about drying him off and lubing him up (what we refer to as putting on lotion) when DH looked over at me and this conversation took place:

DH: You gonna do anything for his rash?
Me: No should be fine, it's already subsiding.
DH: Well you are already lubing him up.....why don't you get his junk, just rub it all over and that should help.
Me: (As if I didn't already know that.....I am a mom!! DUH!! Look that I give him)
Me: *Continued moment of silence
DH: What?
Me: I just realized that I have lubed up every male's testicles in this house......

It's a dirty job.....but someone has gotta do it!!

Anatomy 101 for Little Boys

Thursday night was definitely entertaining.
The whole day was entertaining to say the least.

I had lunch, well frozen yogurt, with my dear gal pal who I have not seen in ages. Last time she and I gossiped over food about men, their penis', and sex she recently had a biopsy done on her breast. Needless to say she is free of her sickness so that made for some happy news. We gabbed about her latest conquests, her financial woes, and then we got to the kids.

Her Spud is all grown up. Sad that I knew when her daughter was a tween and a pain in the ass and now she is a teen and still a pain in the ass but we love her just the same.

So my pal and I are gabbing all sorts. Have to say quite entertaining, made for a great afternoon.

Come home, normal stuff as usual.

My O.G. BFF Brittany, a.k.a my sister, drops in to pick up her spawn and we gab. She is always good for some gossip. She catches me up on all the "behind the scenes" of the blogosphere (*Yawn) and of course some juicy bits about this bar fly who is stalker-esque to an acquaintance of ours....again interesting conversations.

The day and night rolls on. Sister heads home, we have dinner, time for baths. I finally get around to throwing Big G in the shower. He is really good about handling himself in the shower.

He is a boy though so he putzes to no end. I mean I can hear super hero sound effects until he runs out of hot water. So I mosey on in the bathroom and help him wash his hair, I lather up his wash cloth and tell him to get totally clean. If DH and I are not in there....he "says" he got clean. Yeah, which means we made a soapy mess and none touched his body.

I hand him his wash cloth and tell him to wash these parts in this order....leaving his derriere for last. He complies. Fantastic. But then the boy thinks thrusting his hips at me is funny trying to flick soap onto me while I observe outside the shower curtain.......yeah....not so much. I tell him he needs to get washed up. Here is what the boy tells me:

Big G: Momma I really need to get in this junk right? (Pointing and scrubbing his crack and his crotch)
Me: *holding my breath. Try. To. Contain. Uncontrollable. Laughter.
Me: Yup buddy, get clean.
Big G: Yup I gotta really clean all this junk.

Thank you DH for teaching our boy that his penis and rear end is his junk because I found the comment so utterly amusing. But the fun doesn't stop there!

I help the boy wash all the soap off and help him out of the shower. He is a bit of a spaz. Last time he didn't have help he has a bruise the size of Delaware on one ass cheek. Yeah, it hurt.

I am drying his hair off and his arms when he stops and this conversation takes place:

Big G: Momma I need to tell you something, stop drying me.
Me: Okay buddy what is it?
Big G: Mom what are these things?
Me: Buddy they are buttons on my shirt. (assuming that is what he is asking since he is staring at the girls)
Big G: No mom, these....what are these? (As he begins to pull down my shirt)
Me: Buddy, what are you doing?
Big G: Mom I am asking you a questions! (very demanding) What are these?
Me: Bud, those are moms boobies....
Big G: No Momma, whats on your boobies?
Me: (assuming he is talking about how my skin was splotchy fron the heat and cold water of the shower) Buddy its just my skin discolored.
Big G: (he's getting annoyed now, I can tell in his voice) *pulling my shirt a but again NO Mom, what are those, the things ON your boobies. The things that the babies suck on?
Me: (TRY. TO. KEEP. IT. TOGETHER!) Buddy, those are called nipples. You have some too...see? (as I pinch him)
Big G: So Mom, are those like bottles for the babies? They can drink milk from?
Me: (KEEP. IT. TOGETHER. I am flushed at this point) Yes buddy, the babies used to drink milk from them and now they drink from a bottle.

The End.

No more questions, he was totally satisfied once he asked that.
Never a dull moment and we are only one week into the summer.......this is going to be a LOOONNNGGGG summer.

The Nerve of Some People...

You know THOSE people. You know the ones that have the nerve, those pots, to call on us kettles? Yes, those rat bastards. I highly dislike them at moments when comments are slung like mud in a wrestling match, I mean, give me some goggles before hand will you!

DH and I were talking today about our typical nonsense. We generally have nothing important to say to each other during the day since he works out of the house. I babble on about housework, kids, bills, and all he hears is "Blah blah...blah blah, yadda blah. Yadda yadda blah." Then he goes on to tell me about his job and his happenings with his job and all I hear is "Piss and moan, piss and moan."

Anyway, I mention to him about my loot that I got in the mail today. I mean the mail lady might as well have been Santa in shorts with the packages. I received my products to review on the kids, among other things. So, I being the excited bloggy, tweeting, over-excited, don't talk to anyone over the age of six during the day, run out to his office to share in my cheerleader-esque tone all my good news and excitement. We banter on about who knows what while I show him all the booty, and I mention how I can't wait to blog about it.

Then he has the nerve. To tell me. Make sure you don't forget to twitter that and whatever hell else you do.

Mmmhmmm.

Right. I told him, yes I do have my addiction to blogging, which by the way is more therapy than an addiction. Blogging is much cheaper than my $75 per hour therapist, whom I do love and adore, but heck I'm cheap....I blog! So I have my addiction, but my addiction is yielding some great stuff for the kids and WOM for these companies, thats what matters. Then, in all my wit, I call him out on his pot stance:

Mmmhmmm, and this WoW (World of Warcraft), do I see WoW yielding any goods? Is WoW going to one day pay the bills? (In reference to my writing among other things) I don't think so, because you have to disconnect to make REAL money....WoW gold doesn't count.

Then he proceeds to tell me....something....I kind of phased him out, oh right, he asked, so you going to go blog and tweet.......and I turned ever so nicely to close the door. I leaned out the door just enough to still be in the room to tell him:

No dear, I am actually going to make dinner. You know what dinner is right? You know, the meal after lunch and generally before breakfast the following day.....a meal you haven't made in a while. Then I peer through the window as I shut the door giving him the most Nanna Nanna Boo Boo face ever.

I know...I am such an adult.

Questionable Questions

These words are words, phrases, sentences, questions, inquiries you never want to hear uttered from the mouth of your loving DH. I have heard these and in most instances I can answer with one word, a smile, or the look with the eyebrow. Ladies you know that look. The one where you look at DH or some other poor dolt inquirer.

You look at them like "Did you really just ask me that and do you expect an intelligent answer to your clearly daft question?"

So here are a few crowd pleasers that I incur from DH, strangers in Costco who cannot help themselves, and other dolts:


1. Are these clean or dirty? (text can be applied to dishes or clothes)

My response is the look, then I tell him....well do they stink? Do they have gunk on them? Which appliance are they in...dryer means they are dry....after being cleaned! Dishwasher, do they look clean to you?

2. Did you feed the kids yet?

Hmmm, no I was too busy blogging, Tweeting, sending emails that I decided to pour Cheerios all over the floor and let them forage for a few hours before I actually got around to making them a meal.

3. Are you already showered?

I generally smell of my designer perfume (Ralph Lauren Glamorous is one of my faves), I have fresh make-up instead of my Frankenstein Bride eyes, and my shoes are on.....what do you think?

4. Oh wow, are they identical?

Considering that identical means the same.....hmmmm....well one has a penis and the other a vagina...highly doubt they are the same.

5. Do twins run in your family?

This is a "digger" as I call them. Some random unknown individual decides they need to know whether you needed invitro or not to start up a lengthy conversation. Believe me if I had invitro, I would be in a straight jacket....born to breed!

6. How do you do it?

I mean really do I have a choice in this life? I was given a couple of peaches, a pear, and other fruits in my life...I made a salad.

7. What's for dinner?

Let me ask "Cookie" since she's in there whipping up some gourmet delight with macaroni and cheese, turkey burger.......why don't you make dinner for once. Oh right, if it doesn't have instructions you are lost.

8. (laying peacefully, quietly in bed as I doze into my slumber wonderland) You going to sleep?

What was the first clue?

9. Have you seen my shoes? belt? jeans? Other random article of clothing belonging to someone else OTHER than moi.

Let's see, I tried it on but was clashing with my shoes today and my other ensemble.

10. Are they all your children?

No, I got these two on sale from a lady down the street and this one the UFO dropped off six years ago. We're still waiting for them to come back for him.

11. Do they all have the same daddy?

Nope....I decided it would be fun to have twins from two different fathers, and my oldest looks nothing (identical) like his father. I got that question from a dude at Home Depot one day.

12. Is that you or the dog?

Do we really need to go there?

13. Did you clean the house?

Nope, a truckload of munchkins, dwarves and fairies swooped in today and did it all for me, then even left a pair of ruby red slippers for me.

14. Are you going to wear that?

Why does it make my ass look any smaller? If so heck ya! It's black, does it get any better?

15. Are you going somewhere?

Keys in hand, purse (diaper bag) on shoulders, sunglasses....nope...this is how I stroll around the house.

16. Are the twins asleep?

I don't hear anything.....do you? (*crickets) Oh wait, there they are, duct taped to the wall, no wonder the house was so quiet.

17. (sitting on the comode) What are you doing?

(Do I truly have to answer?).....I'm thinking. I do my best thinking with my pants at my ankles sitting on the latrine with little people and adults looking at me.

*UPDATE
18. This one is courtesy of Jenjen @ Gotta Love Mom : Are you tired?

Let's see I am a mom.....first clue....I wear many hats (chauffeur, maid, dog walker, gardener, pool guy/girl, sex goddess, domestic diva, the list is endless)...second clue....and my work seems to never be done is the final clue. So you tell me....are you tired from listening to me?

19. These are from my dear twin Mom blogger Beth @ Be Careful What You Wish For: "oh my god, what are you going to do?" (The question when you tell people you are going to have twins)

Beth and I were separated at birth, twin moms have this sick sense of humor, which is why God deemed us fit enough to bear and care for more than one child at the same time. Here is Beth's answer and I almost choked I was laughing so hard:

"i always wished i had the guts to say "actually, we've been looking into black market baby sales and it seems like a good deal. i think we are just going to sell them on the internet."

20. Another Beth question and answer that I love! "Are you marrying your baby's father?"

Can you imagine if i were to ask people this question in reverse?!?! "Oh, is this baby your husband's?" (Go give Beth some comment love and a follow, she's got some great stuff going on her blog! Just click on her linky above)

Do you have any obvious questions that never truly need answers, but find a shady form of comedy to entertain the question to keep from losing your mind. Leave your comments, I would love to share with other Mom's and Dad's. Happy Friday!

Keep the comments coming ladies....you know you have had some really stupid questions asked that you where you have experienced a hidden urge to slap the person who asked. All in good fun.