You are currently browsing posts tagged with humor
Remember back to when I mentioned that Feburary was DENTAL HEALTH MONTH? Well, I had asked you to please warn me when POKE YOURSELF IN THE EYE month was coming? Remember all that nonsense? Well, I am so glad I brought it up. Because my friend, Beck, was the first (and only, I might add) to warn me that MARCH is, indeed, POKE YOURSELF IN THE EYE month!
Ah man. I am so glad someone told me.
So glad.
Here is how we celebrated:
She said, “Hey, this girl doesn’t even flinch… wow!”
I guess, technically, Izzy isn’t poking HERSELF in the eye. But, it was the best we could do.
Before having a boy, I never knew that the ability to transform everyday objects into guns was actually imprinted on the Y chromosome. But it is. About a year ago my son started shooting things. I was mortified. I am, afterall, a pacifist. A good pacifist, in fact. But, there he was using any and everything as a gun, blaster, pistol, bazooka, light saber, etc. The good news is is that until recently we have never actually ”stooped” to purchasing a gun-like toy and offend our peace-loving sensibilities. He has taken care of that all on his own.
Items that my son has transformed into an imaginary gun:
- Foot-shaped calcualtor
- A slice of cheese – bitten into the shape of a gun
- Clothes hanger
- Broom
- My flip flops (work great as over-the-wrist attack blasters… apparently)
- A pillow
- My $900 camera
- Toilet paper holder
- Vacuum attachments
- Baby bottle
- Socks
- Pens
- Soap dispenser
- His old leg cast
- Foam leters, particulary the “L” and the number “7″
- Sticks in varying shapes and sizes.
- Baby Monitor
- The headrest in the car
- A traffic cone
- A candy cane
- Breast Pump – seriously, this one stopped us all in our tracks.
- The car key remote
- Kleenex box
I keep telling myself that an active imagination is GOOD thing. And… I try to stay out of the line of fire whenever possible.
Please tell me that I am not the only one out there who tilts their head and says “huh?” when their husband does something the “wrong” way.
I mean, okay, I will stipulate that I need to chill sometimes. Micromanagement is a genetic disorder in my family (yes, mom, you have it, too…).
But sometimes I am simply stunned into silence (well, not really…) at the things that Dave does.
While making lunch: ”You did NOT just put syrup on the kids’ peanut butter sandwiches?!”
While helping with the baby: “Are you actually going to change the baby’s poopie diaper while she is STANDING UP?”
While sorting laundry: “How did you confuse my t-shirt (or stranger still, my underwear…) with Jade’s?”
I am very lucky to have a husband who helps, but sometimes… no, no… most of the time, I just don’t get it.
Hello, my name is Kari. And I am an addict.
I am addicted to adults.
When an adult is around, I just feel better, ya know. I mean, adults just make meals more pleasant, take the edge off a trip to the playground, and give a whole new meaning to the symbolism found in the soundtrack of Sesame Street.
A little time with an adult and I can face the world just a little bit better than before. I stop shaking. I no longer see through playdoh smudged glasses; I can see things just a little more clearly.
Without them I am reduced to eating chicken nuggets and yogurt from a tube. Without them I don’t see the use in makeup and well-fitting cloths. Without them, I talk about myself in the third person, as in “Mommy just needs to call everyone that she knows on the phone now, honey, can you please just keep watching tv?”
I am afraid that adults are ruining my life. Giving me hope for a time when I don’t have to be a human Kleenex. It would be much better to live in the here and now and not pine away for people who can make margaritas, discuss politics, and drive motorized vehicles. But I do pine. Sometimes I see myself in my mind’s eye clinging to my husband’s leg as he tries to leave for work, begging “Just one more minute, please….”
I am even addicted to fictional adults. I am so glad that Derek and Meredith are finally together and Emma and Will are finally together and pray for the day when Bones and Booth will finally be together. Have I just revealed my TV addiction, too? Great.
Emma and Will from Glee
So, the next time you see me and I stand just a bit too close, or express my opinion on something a little too vehemently, or seem too overly-fascinated by the adult section of the menu, or seem to have “just one more thing to tell you” before you hang up… go easy on me… please… I NEED you… like… a lot.
« Older Entries
