Cathy in the Wright

Sometimes I Swear He's Not Mine...

Sleepless night. My fault; not the boys this time. So this morning I played the lazy parent and let The Senator pour himself a bowl of cereal. Our last trip to the grocery store he talked me into buying Lucky Charms. Sweet cereal with even sweeter marshmallow "charms" in the shape of rainbows, 4-leaf clovers, stars, etc.

The Senator finishes his cereal and takes the allegedly empty bowl to the sink. After he leaves to go wash up, I peer in the sink. A full bowl of soggy cereal...minus the charms.

Hey, Senator, get back here.

What, Mom?

You didn't finish your cereal. Look at all this you wasted!

Yeah, Mom. When I'm done with all the good sugary parts, I leave the rest.

I was too stunned to say anything else. I did, however, pour the now mushy cereal and milk into a Tupperware container. I'm thinking of hauling it out for dinner tonight. "Remember this? Now eat it, or no Trick or Treating tonight."

Never to late to start working on the 'Meanest Mom of the Year' award.

I Almost Didn't Make It In Time...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRIS MUIR!

New Link Coming...

Anna over at Primal Purge mentioned Dong Resin as a site quite worthy of our esteem. I've been reading The Dong's archived "Favorites" section. I'm not done yet, but I have to share this post:

Everybody has their own measure of success.
Mine is being rich enough to get results when I say "bring me my midgets".

There is no way you will find anything funnier to read today than that.

Mr. Muir Goes to Tech Central Station...

My brother emailed me this morning and told me I wouldn't want to miss this. You won't either. It's a story on my favorite cartoonist!

Not Scary, Just Damn Funny

I love it. Just love it. Thanks, Rodger. (I purloined it off his site.)

Rangers or Celtic?

La la la la la la!

8:30 p.m. and both boys are in bed and quiet! Sleep index for mom looks promising.

And before I head off to test my luck, I want to say hello to Pam, whom I found in my referrals. I must now link Pam, because she is crazy kind enough to link me, and she lives in Scotland, which is the coolest place I've ever visited.

Just after college, I made a trip with my old high school friend. I will never forget arriving in Glasgow late at night after traveling by train all day. My friend and I had been drinking the whole trip. We were tired and hungry. We found a chips vendor and my friend (she did her semester abroad in Aberdeen) introduced me to hot, salt & vinegar chips. We sat on the steps of the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall and polished off two or three bags of them. Manna could not have tasted that good to the Israelites.

I have yet to find any place over here than can duplicate chips like that. And I mean chips. Not crisps. Not Old Dutch Kettle Chips - Salt & Vinegar. (Although they'll do in a pinch)

We spent about 10 days in Scotland - mostly in Glasgow because that's where Mackenzie's boyfriend at the time lived. We did head up to Aberdeen to visit some of her old school mates, and on the train ride back to Glasgow, I met a guy...long story short...he was the reason I went back for a second visit a year or so later. Another great trip.

Awesome place. I'd go back again in a minute.

So thanks, Pam, for the link! You brought back a lot of fantastic memories.

Another Banner Evening...

This time, it was The Governor's turn to keep me up all night. Unfortunately for you (or fortunately, depending on your penchant for literature), I was unable to get any reading done last night. The Gov is pretty high maintenance. I ended up sleeping on the hide-a-bed in his room. I don't know why I bothered to pull it out; wasn't in it much.

I won't bore you with the details, but here are a few of the evening's highlights:

130 - the number of minutes of actual sleep I got last night

7 - the number of times The Gov sneezed on my arm

2 - the number of times the mucus hit my face

5672 - the number of times The Gov changed his mind about being held versus laying in his crib

0 - the number of times I thought that having another kid would be a great idea

I left The Gov fussing in his crib so I could check on The Senator. He's much better. Although he's not going to be pleased (we may have a major setback) when he discovers when you're healthy, the television goes off.

Ahh...the screams are getting louder. Better go. More later if Damien The Governor takes a nap.

A Lileks Moment...

It appears a bug of some sort is running through the house.

The Senator is down with something. Runny nose, coughing, and vomiting. Judging by the red patch beneath his nose, we are out of Kleenex and he's been using 40 grit sandpaper.

This morning I'm starting to feel run down.

And since I was kissing up The Gov pretty good yesterday...I guess that means by tomorrow night, The Senator and I can look forward to some company when we're up again at 4 a.m.

This blows.

Oh well. Dark cloud - silver lining. While sitting up with The Senator this morning, I hauled out one of my old college literature anthologies. Started with Beowulf, skipped over Chaucer and Edmund Spenser, revisited Marlowe's "Dr. Faustus" (from which we get "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships..."), and passed up Shakespeare. Next came John Donne. I always enjoyed Donne. Not a real flowery, kissy-face type of guy. A sample of some of my favorite passages:

From A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning:

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.

and his Holy Sonnets rule. Here's No. 7:

At the round earth's imagined corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels; and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go:
All whom the flood did, and fire shall, o'erthrow,
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you whose eyes
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space;
For, if above all these, my sins abound,
Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
Teach me how to repent; for that's as good
As if thou hadst sealed my pardon with thy blood.

From his Devotions (Meditation 17):

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Great stuff.

Perhaps more than you were bargaining for this morning? Find me a babysitter so I can get some sleep, and I'll be back to posting blonde jokes by tomorrow night.

Excuse me. I'm off to empty the barf bucket and then start in on Milton.

Home Again, Home Again

Note: Sorry this is late. Wanted to post last night, but was having trouble with the satellite signals and deleting Viagra spam.
******
Good morning. I’m glad to be back, and I’ll thank you kindly for not stirring your coffee so loudly. I’m quite tired, and have not fully recovered from my extended weekend. In the next 30 days, I do not want to see another:

beer
bottle of flavored rum
diet Coke
hard cider
bag of Doritos
brownie
chocolate chip bar
piece of candy

(Guess what, Senator…Halloween has been canceled.)

Most of my photos turned out poorly; our eyes are all either red or a strange shade of green. Lousy camera. Could have been the alcohol, I suppose.

She's going to kill me for this one. This is Margaret. She told me if I posted a picture of her, to block out her eyes, but considering what she was doing with her tongue in this photo...I had to use my block-out tools elsewhere. Cheers, Margaret!

Discolored eyes and all…I have the greatest friends. Dave and Margaret brought up two turkeys (dead and thawing…although I wouldn’t put it past Dave to bring a rifle and provide straight from Mother Nature rather than Cub Groceries) and made a big Thanksgiving-style dinner for us all. What a feast. I don’t think there was one of us who didn’t go change into sweat pants or pajamas immediately following dinner.

Kevin and Casey brought the games and the fishing tackle, Joe and Susan brought more chocolate than is spit out in Hershey, PA in a month, Jim brought the beer, and Tim brought the movies and the caffeine free diet Coke, which is what we women told him to bring. Had he showed up with any variation of our order, we would have never let him forget it. Smart man. All I had to do was show up and eat and drink.

This is the back of Casey's head. She didn't want her picture taken. Toes by the caffeine free diet Coke: mine

Most of what we talked about throughout the weekend is unpublishable. I could tell you, but then I’d have to go into hiding. About the only thing I can say, and it won’t make any sense to any of you anyhow, is that you just might never know how funny the word ‘asparagus’ really is.

So, the weekend was a blast. We headed out early Sunday morning to make it back for a soccer game. Given that we lost in shoot-outs…we should have just stayed up north and kept on drinking. I hate shoot-outs. Lousy way to win or lose.

Finally made it back home around 6. There were several vehicles over at the Tin Shed (tractor storage across the road) so I stopped in for a quick visit. I offered my left-over beer, admired the mule deer head in the back of Todd’s truck, and came home to release the babysitter.

Ahhh. Home with the boys. I sure missed them. I think we made it about 45 minutes before The Governor climbed up on the cooler and The Senator opened the lid and tipped him off. Crying, yelling, offering of alibis…it’s great to be home.

Gone Fishin'

I am leaving tomorrow for a long weekend get-a-way with several of my soccer buddies.

I don't think the place we're staying has an internet connection, so I cannot say there will be any blogging done until late Sunday night.

I am bringing the digital camera, however, and I plan to make a lot of money off my pals who don't want the whole world to see just how hilarious they are when they drink.

Except for Tim. His wife girlfriend won't let him drink.

But she may not come with us...

Bwah ha ha ha ha ha ha!

You WISH You Had My Life...

Well...this is how desperate I've become. I sent The Senator off to swimming lessons with his dad, and I hired the neighbor girl to come down and exorcise babysit The Governor. I'm hiding in the computer room, trying not to hit the keys too loudly. If I'm very quiet, I have the next hour to MYSELF!

I shouldn't complain. I had another entire hour to myself earlier today. I got my hair cut. I couldn't wait to see the gal who cuts my hair. When I saw her last, she was two weeks away from her wedding, and her fiance had just disclosed (unwillingly) that he had some major credit card debt. She was in a dark mood that day, and I wasn't sure she'd make it down the aisle.

She did. And today I got the details. She's still a bit peeved at her man, but tied the knot anyway. (Actual quote from last haircut: "Steve and I are so great together. We only fight about money.") The wedding went well, although the groom's alcoholic mom caused some sort of a stir. (Couldn't hear - hair dryer.) Now they're trying to buy a house and he's unhappy because they can't get approved for a big enough loan if his name is on the paperwork because his credit history is swirling around in the sewer. She hit up Daddy who obliged by gifting them $10,000 for a down payment.

And now you know the answer to "Where does Jerry Springer get these people?"

****
On a different note...last night Breezy was pulling a downspout off the house to get at some critter who had taken up shelter inside of it. I was yelling at her to come inside. She was ignoring me. (She must be the one giving The Gov lessons.) So I put on my knee-high green Wellingtons, grabbed my flashlight, tracked her down, and let her have it on the flank with my Maglight. That got her attention. All three dogs made fast tracks for the back door.

I took off my boots and headed for bed. I told The VP that I had a tiresome day, and I needed to be charmed a bit. He politely asked if I was going to start calling myself The Princess on this site.

So after I cracked him on the shin with the flashlight, he said, "Well, dear, I don't think I've seen anything sexier than you marching out side in your boots and pajamas while wielding a flashlight to go murder a dog."

I love that man.

Satan's Spawn?

Today I'm walking up the stairs behind The Governor. He's carrying a small board book in one hand, a toy car in the other. He stops near the top and, apparently tired of holding onto his treasures, he turns and throws the book down at my bare feet. It didn't hurt (much) but I still had to whip out the parent card and call him on a foul.

"Don't throw things!"

He looked at me, and to show me that he fully understood what I just said...he whips the toy car at my other foot.

If it wasn't so unflattering to me and The VP...I'd almost have to start wondering if Satan managed to pull off an immaculate conception here.

Housekeeping

Well, it has come to pass that Rachel Lucas is taking a break from blogging. I have really enjoyed her site. When she returns from her leave, I'll be adding her back to the Links.

Meanwhile, I've made a few changes to that illustrious list. I had to put Andy up because I enjoy taunting him. And he's married to one of my favorite female bloggers...Natalie.

And Geoffrey and Kim are now over there because I read them every day, and because they are as caustic as I'd like to be...I'm just not willing to take on trolls like they are.

If there are any other great sites out there I might be missing...let me know.

Take Two and Call Me a Conservative in the Morning

Ha! I think Mr. Muir has just coined a new expression. When my single, liberal friends get married, start a family, and run smack into the realities of domestic life (gee, honey, that was a fun vacation, but fitting two kids, a dog, and all that luggage in the Geo Metro was a little...cramped. Can we get a Suburban?), I will remark, "Take the red pill, did we?"

Yes, You Can Take the City Out of the Girl...

Today was a long, fun, exhausting day. The Senator and I picked up his preschool friend and his mom, and we headed out to Nelson's Farm near Litchfield. (Nearby Meeker County)

In a nutshell: pumpkin farm and petting zoo.

The Senator loved it. He got to pet all kinds of critters, hold a baby chick, catch a rabbit, ride a pony, and eat mini-donuts.

I had a pretty good time as well. I kept thinking about the tremendous differences between city and country. Things are just done so differently.

Country: petting zoo.
City: Interactive natural sciences environmental center.

Country: Mini-donuts and hot dogs
City: Soy milk and biscotti

Country: Pony rides
City: Watch a video about explotation of undersized equine.

Here's a perfect example. In one room of the "Hen House" we came across this:

A box of chicks. No one in the room. No signs or notes. Just a box of two dozen baby chicks. Help yourself. Little Johnny squeeze one too hard? We'll get another.

In the city you'd have an interpreter who would allow you to perhaps hold a chick under supervised conditions while describing the horrors of baby chickens torn from under the wings of their mothers, deep-fried to lead you down the path to childhood obesity, and served up as the crunchy McNuggets you b*stards all eat in your bloody Happy Meals.

PETA protesters?

City: Let's have a meaningful dialogue and work together to come up with a mission statement on how to develop a proactive, learning environment that treats animals and possibly humans in the most humane way.

Country: Earl? You still got your .22 in the back of the truck?

I don't have all the city completely drummed out of me yet. (I did suggest that the rabbits unionize because they could have used better working conditions and mandatory 15 minute breaks every couple of hours.)

But I won't be moving back anytime soon.

Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

I have the best neighbors in the whole world. Several of us met for drinks and appetizers tonight at a some-what local restaurant, and because I had to get home to the babysitter...they all followed me back to The Outpost and the party resumed here so I could still participate. *sniff* I love you guys!

My neighbor up the road had brought her kids over before we left, and when the babysitter went home, her oldest daughter took charge of The Governor so I was free to laugh and talk with all the adults. Can't believe my luck.

One of my neighbors stopped home before coming over to our place to pick up her blender. (Ours = busted) She made strawberry daiquiris. I almost had to get down on my knees and bow. A true master. Every time I've tried to make drinks like that at home, I can never get the perfect blend of ingredients. The ice is the trouble-maker. All my efforts result in slush with chunks so big they could sink a small tanker.

What a fun evening. Now if I could just get the computer screen to hold still so I could proof-read what I've written...

Is That Why They Call It A Tipee Cup?

Another nursing home Tuesday. Hoocher was his usual charming self. He jumped up on the couch next to Mr. Swanson, stretched out, and fell asleep with his head in Mr. Swanson's lap. Had you paraded a bitch in heat below his nose, I don't think he would have moved.

We brought in a six pack of Sprite to Mrs. K. The nursing home snack cart offers a generic brand of clear soda she doesn't care for, and when I was at the store, I remembered her remarking on this, and threw the 6-pack in the cart. When I gave it to her, I thought she was going to cry. She offered to pay for it. I'm glad she liked the present. Made me mad as h*ll at her family though. Most of them live out of state, but jeez...if a six-pack of pop brightened her day...a letter or picture or email from one of her grandkids would probably send her through the roof.

Of course, some of this irritation could be my own guilt. I wasn't a very thoughtful granddaughter when my grandmother lived in a nursing home. So to assuage my conscience, I've adopted an entire platoon of surrogate grandparents. I hope someone picked up the ball for me too.

Well, off to bed. I was going to drink the last Sam Adams, but my friend, Dave, suggested I save it for The Governor and see if that doesn't put an end to these night-time crying fits. (The Gov wouldn't drink it out of his Tipee cup, but when I put a straw right in the bottle...voila!)

No. I didn't.

Was tempted though.

G'night.

Fssshhhh....

Just opened a Sam Adams Light. Tonight's response time to any crib melodramas (see yesterday's post) will be noticeably slower.

The Governor is starting to use quite a few multiple word sentences. Tonight he grabbed a book and was heading up the stairs towards the kitchen yelling, "I'm coming, Mama!"

Precocious child or demon possession? I'm voting for the latter.

I'm too tired to think up anything else to entertain you this evening, (blame The Gov's 3:00 a.m., 4:45 a.m., and 6:15 a.m. wake up calls) so I refer you here, here, and here for some amusement.

What?! Who snaked my beer? The bottle is almost empty. Hope we have another one in the fridge.

Nite-nite.

Ugh. I'm exhausted. The Governor was up several times throughout the night. I wish I could figure out why he does this. He cries and screams and when you arrive crib-side, you put his pacifier back in his mouth, tell him to go back to sleep, and he does. For a couple of hours. Repeat. Insecure? Teething? Just playing games?

If any of you parents out there have had any experience with this (and better yet, any solutions)...drop me a comment.

And when The Governor is asleep, I can look forward to a midnight bulletin from The Senator. Last night I had just climbed back in bed when The Senator comes charging in and announces

There's a HUGE worm in the bathroom!

I'm thinking snake. I grab his toy baseball bat and head for the bathroom. It's a *&^%$#@! millipede, or whatever those TINY little worm-like bugs with lots of TINY little legs are called. I took one look at The Senator and started swinging.

No, I didn't. But if I don't start getting a little more sleep, both these boys are going to boarding school for their own safety.

Well, it's time for bed. I had a full day of soccer (couldn't ask for a better day) and my legs ache. Guess I'll try for an hour or two of sleep before the fun begins.

Your Attention Please

Due to a lack of rain, this year's fall colors have been cancelled. We regret any inconvenience. Thank you.

It's sure not much to look at, but this is as vibrant as it gets around The Outpost. The windmill sits in the south 40. Heh. I've always wanted to say that.

Can't complain about the weather though. Windy and warm today. Just perfect. Hope it stays like this through the weekend.

The VP is starting on a new project. By the end of the fall, he plans to evict The Governor out of his room, and turn that space into a "man's room." His words...not mine. He won't elaborate, but I what I have gleaned is that this involves quite a bit of new electronic equipment and perhaps a dorm room sized refrigerator. He actually took out a tape measure the other day to see where a big screen tv would fit best. The salesmen at Best Buy send flowers to our house daily.

Apparently, The VP won't mind eating Ramen Noodles for dinner for the next three years.

Anyone know where I can get a mounted moose head?

For My Blonde Friends...

My friend Terry emailed this joke yesterday:

A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and one night he's doing a show in a small town in Arkansas. With his dummy on his knee, he starts going through his usual dumb blonde jokes when a blonde woman in the 4th row stands on her chair and starts shouting.

"I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes! What makes you think you can stereotype women in that way? What does the color of a person's hair have to do with her worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community and from reaching our full potential as people. All because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes, but women in general and all in the name of humor."

The embarrassed ventriloquist begins to apologize, when the blonde yells....

"You stay out of this, mister! I'm talking to that little shit sitting on your knee!"

Thanks, Terry.

Late Entry

Tomorrow my father-in-law leaves for a fishing trip with his buddies. A couple of years ago I made some choc. chip cookies for them to take with on their annual outing. Since then, they always manage to make sure I'm aware of the dates of all their expeditions. So about a week ago, my f-i-l says, "Hey Cathy, Pete wants you to know we're leaving for our fishing trip on the 10th."

(Hey, that's nice. Does he want me to come with this year? F-i-l keels over.)

So today The Senator and I baked 8 dozen cookies. I think my oven was in shock. Hasn't been used that much since last Thanksgiving.

And what have I done right with my boy? The Governor was taking a nap, and I left eight dozen warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter and went to lay down. The Senator didn't so much as breathe on them. I fully expected to see a few disappear. Not. One. Chip. Missing. I guess I know which child I'm putting in charge of my health care directive when I'm old. I can trust this one.

(No, Gov, we can't unplug Mom yet...)

And speaking of domestic stuff, the local Community Ed. program put on a "Homemaker's Fair" at the middle school tonight. Food, door prizes, and lots of vendors of stuff for the little woman and her home. Pampered Chef, Mary Kay, Avon, Longeberger, Fuller Brush, herbal supplements...you get the picture. (Guys, you'll just have to ask your wives or girlfriends.) So I went with my friend, Darcy. We had a good time, and then proceeded to The Finish Line (Cokato's bar) where we had an even better time. Too bad Leinenkugel's wasn't offered a booth at the Homemaker's Fair.

Ah well, there's always next year. Note to self: Ask Community Ed. director if she can replace the herbal supplements with a cheese curd stand or buffalo wings booth.

Wanted: Jeff's Sources

Oh, I almost forgot. I saw this classified ad yesterday on Jeff's site. Hee hee hee. Where do you find this stuff?

Why It's Like Greased Lightnin'

Yep, this new connection is slick. You were right. And you want to know the best part? Now I can use the computer and the phone at the same time! We're a one phone line house. That's just the way things are here at The Outpost. Two phone lines, and people start referring to you as "those city people."

Thank you, Aelfheld, Chris, Dean, Jeff, and Rodger for the kind words!

I can't believe you all read this. Wow.

Unfortunately, I don't have much time to write. So I leave you with this image from Dribbleglass.com

(Sorry if this is your particular favorite, but for me, Family Circus ranks right up there with collecting Hummel figurines and drawing a heart over your lower case "i" instead of dotting it.)

Wish Me Luck

We're moving the computer to another room tomorrow and getting a broadband connection. No more dial-up. *sniff* If everything works perfectly, I'll be up and blogging tomorrow night.

Cross your fingers.

Pay No Attention to the Cement Walls Being Poured Around Wright County

From the Monty Python Song "I Like Chinese" -

The world today seems absolutely crackers,
With nuclear bombs to blow us all sky high.
There's fools and idiots sitting on the triggers.
It's depressing and it's senseless, and that's why...

I shop here.

Many thanks to Aelfheld for pointing me to my new favorite place to wear out the old credit card.

Welcome Home * Why, Thank You!

I'm back from my girls' weekend. What a blast. A group of eleven women, all wives of men who have some connection to the Grand Lodge of Minnesota (that would be the Masons - you know - the highly secretive, cow-levitating, pigmy-sacrificing group of men who control the world monetary supply) went down to Lanesboro, Minnesota for some shopping, biking, giggling, wine-drinking, and just a small amount of trouble.

There's a beautiful bike trail that you can pick up right in town. Note: Bring your own bike. The rental models all have seats about the size of a Ritz cracker and are made of tempered steel. After 5 miles, your tailbone will be cursing you aloud.

Saturday evening we ate at Mrs. B's Historic Lanesboro Inn. Excellent food. Crabby customers. One crusty gentleman left his table to come and holler at us that he couldn't hear anything being said in the next room. Pal, look at us. Eleven women who have been drinking all day. You think your little tirade is going to quell us? Best of luck.

I was almost sorry to leave on Sunday. After two full nights with no dogs barking or kids waking in the wee hours of the morning...well, it was tempting to stay.

I made it back to the cities in time for my Sunday afternoon soccer game. Perfect. Weather. Must have been the sacrifice I offered up to the weather gods while I was down in Lanesboro. (Bike trail - salamander - didn't see it until it was too late.) Anyway - beautiful weather. And I played well in spite of the fact that I was sweating Merlot.

And here I am. Back with the boys. And I missed them a lot. And I'm still happy to be here. Even though The Gov threw a tantrum so massive that he bit his own lip and got blood all down his shirt and The Senator decided to help himself to his vitamins and ended up dumping them all on the floor. Where The Crazyweiler was waiting to clean them all up. Home Sweet Home.

He's A Good Dad

The VP stayed home today to help me with the boys so I can get ready for my weekend trip. I think he was a little dismayed at what passes for normal around here on most other days.

The Governor grabbed a glass bottle of olive oil out of the pantry. I told him no and handed him the 16 ounce, plastic bottle of vegetable oil. I thought The VP was going to have a stroke. He ran over and took it out of his hands, put it away, and locked the pantry. He stared at me as though I had just set and baited a rusty bear trap in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Now look here, I told him, it's a PLASTIC bottle. He can't open it. He can't break it. I can load the dishwasher and clean off the high chair before he gets bored with it.

I don't think he was impressed. But...I sat down to finish some blog reading, and VOILA! I'M (once again) IN THE RIGHT! Natalie does the same thing!

Heh...go read that post and the one before. Looks like some changes are in store at the Yates household. I'd pay to see a video of Natalie walking in from work, flopping down in a chair, holding her hand out for a drink, flipping on the latest Arsenal v. Manchester United game, and telling Andy to keep the kids quiet. Web cam, Natalie?

Ha!

Awesome.

Things That Made Me Laugh Out Loud Today

From Dave Barry:

Men are like a fine wine. They start out as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

*************

Harley for Men:

Harley for Women:

Don't start complaining to me...I stole them from Jeff's site!

*****************

Dear Abby,

I recently read your column advising grandparents on how to administer "tough love" to misbehaving grandchildren, whose own parents let them run wild.

I have followed your advice, and enclose a picture demonstrating my technique when my grandson just won't behave while I'm babysitting for his parents. They have told me not to spank him, so I just take him for a ride, and he usually calms down afterward.

Sign me,

Tough Love Grandma

(Thank you, Dave P., for sending this last one.)

That's all for tonight. I'm heading out of town for the weekend, so probably no more posting until late Sunday night or Monday morning. Have a great weekend.

PSA's

Announcement No. 1:

Today is The Professor's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD! Hope you have a great day.

1936 was a great year for Americans. Jesse Owens won four gold medals at the Olympics in Berlin, effectively wiping Hitler's nose in the Nazi theory of a superior Aryan race. And Wallis Simpson lured the King of England right off the throne. I guess Grandma and Grandpa weren't the only ones doing a little movin' and shakin' in 1936. ;0

Announcement No. 2:

Old Dutch ^R makes a potato chip called Dutch Crunch^TM Kettle Chips. The salt & vinegar flavored ones...manna from heaven. If you eat a whole bunch of them in one sitting (I have, several times, so this is a scientifically-tested statement) you will corrode 75% of your taste buds. Worth. The. Cost.

Announcement No. 3:

Go check out Front Line Voices.

The mission of this site is to get out the full story by posting first-hand accounts as written by men and women who have actually been to Iraq and Afghanistan. There is no editing or commentary by those who run this site, and we will print any letter or story submitted by a legitimate source who has served overseas. Our only goal is to offer you the opportunity to read these stories and to find out what the reality is.

I.e. - No big media spin. Go.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog reading.