Tag Archive: stupidity


So my first two children were girls. Girls were so much fun.  I could dress them up and they got along most of the time. Rarely did I have a smack down between the two of them. My next two children were boys.

Boys are an entirely different species all together. When my boys were younger, they got along great together. Better than the girls. As they grew into teens, I started noticing BIG differences in their behavior. I am not sure where in the genetic code of humans that the burping and farting in public gene mutated in males. This is hard to understand as a female and one that I will never understand. For some reason the teenage…and I might add, older aged male, seem to think this is the best way for impressing the babes.  Let me put that myth to rest right now. That would be no.

When my youngest son turned 13 something changed. Not only did he change, but he passed whatever he had on to my son that was 15.  My polite 15-year-old son suddenly started farting wars with the 13-year-old.  Two years later despite my constant nagging things have not changed.

This is not the only problem with teenage boys.  The burping and farting they are constantly doing seems to drown out common sense or deadened it.  I am still not sure which.  I truly believe they will do anything to embarrass me even if it isn’t on purpose.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my boys and they make me laugh everyday. They are hilarious, but they come with horrible side effects sometimes.  Take my trip to town a couple of days ago.  We came to a store where they were selling newspapers outside of the door.  I am sorry, but I hate this.  I hate being  jumped at a store door without an exit route.  I have told these guys over and over that I do not want a newspaper.  As I sat in the car looking at the front door and trying to figure out how to get into the store without getting a sales pitch, my son says this “I got an idea, I will just go up and “pants” him and then when he is distracted you can go into the store. I bet he will never want to sell anything to you after that”.  After I recovered from envisioning this scene, we opted to go through the garden area and avoid him altogether. I wasn’t sure my son wouldn’t try something.

Amongst my purchases at this store was a toilet plunger. As I am getting into the car, I find that my car has a new hood ornament which took some doing for him to get it off after he put it there.  I seriously counted my blessings that I saw that before I got going down the road.  Once we get going down the highway he then proceeds to stick the plunger on the roof of the car to pretend it is a police siren, you know like in the movies. I had to put up with this for 7 miles.  With my neighbor driving right behind me the whole 7 miles.  Then he has the nerve to tell me that he wants to make a bow that will shoot one. Guaranteed, I will be the first to get it in the face.

Then the other day we went into a store. I was stuck there with him again despite the many times I have told him he is not coming with me ever again.  We came out of the gardening area and started down an aisle where we both saw this really cool green glass looking ball. We both reached for it at the same time to feel it. After touching it we realized it was plastic and that is was a toy ball.  My son quickly  grabbed it and started reading the label.  “Hey”, he says “this says this ball can bounce 150 feet in the air, I don’t believe it”.  As soon as the, “I don’t believe it” came out I knew he was going to see if the claim was true. The first words out of my mouth was, “Don’t do it”.  He must have turned off his “hearing aids” and decided that not only was he going to bounce it on the floor, but he better make sure he gives it enough power that it will do what it claims. He was standing at the top of one aisle and I started down another aisle just as he bounced it.

I looked up to see the ball go through the ceiling tiles.  This was a good 30 feet up.  The ball hit those tiles just right that it lifted them up and turned them enough that they fell out of the rim they were sitting in and came down on his head.  I personally did not stick around for the whole thing to play out.  When I saw the sky falling, I wasted no time in disappearing.

My first thought…”Dang it, they just saw everything on security cameras”.  My second thought, I am getting out of here before they realize he belongs to me.

When my son finally caught up to me, he begins to complain about the paper cut that one of them gave him on his face.  No, “sorry mom, I should have listened to you”.  No, nothing.  It has been 3 days and still no apology. Perhaps someday when he has a son I will get an apology. Because despite my hopes for change, I think the gene will mutate in his future sons also.

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Can I Embarrass Myself Enough?

I grew up in a family that enjoyed having a good time.  My brothers were constantly pranking us five girls.  Of course we would always pay back. One particular week stands out more than others when one of my brothers was off work and made our lives miserable.  In the process we all started pranking each other something terrible.  My father even got in the action.  Which was out of the norm.  Usually Mom was the one who would go toilet papering with us kids and other “various activities”, all good and legal fun (at least it was legal back then). Toilet papering was our favorite thing to do. If you got toilet papered, you were the coolest people on the block. I remember my friend and I saving up tons of paper towel and toilet paper to get a boy’s house that I had “liked”.  I remember one buying spree prompted the store checker to ask us what we were up to….we just smiled.  Admitted nothing.

This  particular week off for my brother was a nightmare for the rest of us.  We would find the neck and arm holes of our pajamas sewn shut when we put them on.  We found the legs of our nylons sewn together.  My mom found her clothes missing (that was my dad), my brother found a brazier in his gym bag while he was in the boys locker…(this was a  good one).  My sister found a fake snake in her bed and we found fake spiders (that looked very real) hanging from our ceilings.  We were renting this home and the basement was unfinished.  My father had been in the military and somewhere my parents had picked up military cots for us to sleep on.  We came home from school to find all of these nailed to the beams on the ceiling. We came home and found our beds outside..this was in the winter.  We got my brother back by hanging all of his clothes off the roof of the house, including his tidy whiteys.  We put vinegar in his cologne….(I think this made my extremely patient brother upset) At this point, things were getting out of hand. We knew my father had had enough when we built a snowman in the front yard and instead of using a broom, we used a toilet plunger.  This did not sit well with him.

One prank that went bad was my sister had put shoes above a door that led downstairs hoping that she would nail someone in the head when they opened the door.  Well she did alright….the telephone repairman.  Nailed him good she did, then she blamed it on the younger, less-defensive siblings.

Anyway..this  is kind of the way my family is.  One of my sisters imparticular will call and give any child of mine that answers the phone…including my husband….a good teasing about one thing or another before asking for me.  I pretty much do the same to her children or my other sister’s children. There have been times when she or I or another sister will pass on the street and pull the old “finger up the nose” gag to be funny.  These types of things are just normal for us.

The other day, my sister called asking me to help my nephew do his taxes.  She gave me his cell phone number and I gave him a call.  I was half way through giving him crap about how I work cheap, etc…when the voice on the other end told me I had the wrong number.  Well…that was embarrassing.  If we weren’t always trying to pull one over on each other, then things like this wouldn’t happen.  Take today for instance:

I went to help my sister do something for my father.  She left before I did, but I came upon her at an intersection.  As I came closer, I decided I was really going to get her good.  She was directly behind a truck that was waiting to make a left hand turn.  There was no one in front of me and I was going straight.  I went really slow and stopped right by her.  I stuck my finger up my nose as far as I could get it and put the stupidest look I could conjure up on my face.  I sat there right next to her knowing full well she would see the color of my car and turn and look.  Sure enough, when I turned to see the look on her face half expecting her finger to be up her nose too…I came face to face with an irate looking woman who did not resemble my sister at all.

I don’t think I have ever covered my identity as fast as I did at that moment.  I sat there thinking to myself…”idiot, idiot, idiot”.  How could I mistake that car for my sister.  I ran through my head where the car was exact make, model and color.  Her big hair looked like my sister’s big hair from the back……yada yada yada..

If I was not constantly trying to pull one over on somebody, stupid things like this would not happen to me.  Next time, I will be more cautious.  I will drive up slowly take a good look to make sure it is who I think it is…then I will shove my finger up my nose.  Problem solved.

So with yesterday being the last day before everyone went back to school, we wracked our brains trying to find something to do as our last “hurrah”.  After a lot of thoughtful contemplation we decided to have a Nerf gun war.  Feeling like I do today, I wish I wouldn’t have suggested it. We got all of the guns and ammo together and found a place for the war.  We sat up the bunkers and made up teams.  After the first round we decided that the teams weren’t working for us so it suddenly became a “free-for-all”. I realized after about 45 minutes why they suggest you wear protective eyewear.  I was hit in the face 4 times.  I nailed my son right between the eyes once and just as he turned around his sister shot him in the forehead.  Ears were impaled, and heads were shot.  Nothing was sacred people, nothing. One thing that has been a problem with me for years is that if I get laughing, I quickly become immobilized.  I lose all strength in the body and can do nothing to protect myself.  This is a huge weakness of mine and it has been used against me many times. Yesterday was no exception. Some of the Nerf ammo has velcro on one end.  I shot my daughter in the butt and the ammo was just hanging there.  She could not deny I hit her, the proof was there waving to the world. I started laughing so hard that I couldn’t pull it together.  In my moment of weakness, my son shot and hit me in the tooth.  That was it.  I fell to the ground unable to move because I was laughing so hard, tears flowing.  It took me a good 10 minutes to get myself back in the game. Not once was I able to be “King of the Ring”.  I never could get everyone out so that I was the last person standing.  I seriously need to brush up on my skills.  I have to admit I pwned on loading.  I could load and shoot faster than you can say “Bob’s Yer Uncle”.  I had to, I was an easy target for everyone, which pretty much sucked. It has been decided that the war must have a second, third and fourth round at least.  I have to admit, despite the pain…it was pretty fun.  Next time…game on.  I am showing up looking like Rambo.  There will be NO survivors. Someday I will have to decide to grow up…but today is not that day.

My Mother, may she rest in peace, had an immaculate home.  Nothing ever out of place.  It was not always like that.  There were seven kids and she had her moments.  I remember a story she told of getting a call that someone was coming over and the house was a mess.  She had to “cram for the examine” so to speak before the company arrived.  She found the closest room to get rid of things and stuffed everything inside.  I guess that the company complimented her on how well she kept the house up with so many little kids.  This particlular incident made my mother into the “Clean House Nazi”.  She taught us kids to be clean, neat and organized.  I used to be, until I had children.

I know there would be days that if she saw my home she would roll over in her grave.  She is probably looking down on me from Heaven telling to pull it together.

I do know that over the years of having kids, I have gained a lot of patience and I tolerate more than perhaps what I should. Case in point:  A couple of months ago, we bought an electric scooter from a thrift store to help save gas.  It is mostly for the kids to get to their friends house, etc.  My son came flying through my kitchen on it the other day, almost running me over.  I just looked at him with that look that says, “Really?”.  He informs me that there aren’t many mother’s who allow their children to drive the scooter through the house.  What I didn’t tell him is that He has taught me more patience than my other children.

Well, this lead to a choice that I made that should have put me in the child category instead of parent category.  I walked through my house and saw the scooter plugged in.  I decided to climb aboard and just sit on it.  Then the thought occured to me that perhaps one of my dogs would love a ride on this thing.

I called one of them and stuck it on the foot rest and gassed it.  I didn’t want her jumping off while I was going.  Well….that was a stupid thought, because she did jump off.  Out of fear of smashing her flat, I swerved and lost control of the scooter, flew down the hall and into my daughter’s bedroom hitting her keyboard and almost knocking it onto the floor.  In the panic of everything, I forgot it had brakes.

I wish I would have been alone when this happened, but my 19 year old daughter was in her room next to the room I went plowing through.  According to her…”All I saw was legs flailing and heard screaming”.  Dang it.  I didn’t want an eyewitness to this at all.  Not even sure what possessed me to try it to begin with.  It goes about 15 mph.  I probably topped off at 17 through the hall judging by how long it took me to stop and how much damage I did.

I won’t even begin to explain why I attempted this.  I don’t even have the answer for that.

So my morning has been a memorable one.  It is funny how one thing going wrong (i.e. alarm not going off) can lead to poor choices.

I woke to my alarm this morning realizing that my daughter, who should have been up an hour before me, was not up.  Panic set in and I flew out of bed to go get her up.  This one incident led to a choice I had to make this morning that I never care to make again.

Because I have teen daughters, I pretty much can tell when I can push things with them or not.  This morning was definitely a NOT.

My sons have to be on the bus at 6:50 a.m.  I have to be to school at 7:00 a.m.  My daughter is supposed to be to school at 6:30 and my other daughter has to be to work at 8:00.  So you see how one little thing go wrong in my morning and it is a disaster.

I got my sons fed and my daughter was still in MY shower, so I was forced to used the kid’s bathroom to shower.  I figured if I didn’t shower before the boys got on the bus, there was no way I was going to make it to school on time.  So I hurried and jumped into the shower in the kid’s bathroom without really assessing the situation like I should have.  I saw bottles of soap in there, but didn’t check to see if they were full.

In mid shower I realized I had no soap or shampoo.  This is bad people, real bad.  There was one bottle of soap in there and it was my only choice.  I knew given the situation of my daughter that there was no way I was getting soap out of my bathroom.  I knew she would not let my sons in there and my other daughter was still in bed.

I sat there looking at this bottle trying to pick my brain on how I got in this situation.  I finally realized I had no choice but to use this soap.  It was dog shampoo people.  Dog shampoo.  Is this what I have been lowered to in my own home?

It was supposed to be green apple scented…it just didn’t smell like green apple.  It may smell good on a dog, but it don’t on people.  I hurried and used it and got out, smelling that stuff everywhere I went.  No amount of perfume, hairspray or hair product could get rid of that smell.  Maybe it was more of a mental thing than anything else, knowing I had used dog shampoo.  I don’t know.

Even though this is supposed to give dogs shiny coats….does not do anything for people “coats”.  My hair looks like a cat has ratted it up and nested in it. It is so out of control.

Today I will avoid all eye contact with anyone thus avoiding any stares at this rug on my head and hope that no one can smell the weird fermented apple smell coming off of me. 

The only good thing that has come from this….It was anti-bacterial.  So I guess I just took care of the “cooties” that I was informed I had when I was in fourth grade.

Yuck, yuck, yuck!

Death By Dog

I love Sunday’s.  It is my day of rest.  No worries, no cares…usually.  Yesterday was more stressful than usual. I fed my family, put my husband to bed because he had to go into work and then I kicked back in the recliner for a little nap.  It was short-lived.

When I sit down or lay down within 1 minute I am covered in dogs.  Since it has turned off cold the dogs have decided that I am their own personal electric blanket.  Yesterday I had kicked back less than 30 seconds when they came running.  Aaaaarrrgh!

It doesn’t matter if there is room or not, they try to fit their fat lard bodies into any crevasse they can find.  While laying there, they both looked perfectly comfortable.  Neither one of them cared that I was cramping up in various positions and in body parts because of them.  Someone came into the kitchen and opened the fridge thus enticing one of the lard balls to parkour it off of my lap diving for the fridge before it shut.  When she left the lap position she was in, the other lard ball took her place within 1.2 seconds.  Sprawled out and went to sleep within 0.2 seconds.

When the first dog came back to regain her warm spot on my lap she realized it had been stolen.  If dogs could talk, I am sure a whole string of insults would have come out of her mouth at that moment.  At this point I was in and out of sleep.  Waking slightly every time one of them moved.  She decided to take the only available spot.  Thing is….there was no available spot, she invented one.

Can I just say that dogs are no respecters of body parts.  They don’t care where or what they step on.  As I lay there in a slumber, the dog who lost her spot decided she wanted on the back of the chair.  She stepped on my neck, then my face and then parted my scalp trying to get comfortable on top of the chair.  Not to mention pulling out half of my hair.  At this point I was ready to throw both of them out into the cold just to make a point.  That they don’t own the house, my head, the furniture, the fridge, the bathroom or my bed despite what they think.

She finally made it to the top and settled down and I dozed off again after giving her a “scotch blessing” as my mother would call it.  I am still suffering from what happened next.  The only thing I can think of is that she started falling off of the chair and started kicking to grip with her claws to keep herself on.  In the process I was kicked in the temple about 4 times the hard part of her back knee.  People die from that you know.

I lay there moaning because despite how skinny a pug’s leg is..it has a lot of strength in it.  Twenty four hours later and my temple is still throbbing.

Later on  my son was laying on the floor and got attacked by both of them.  They had one shirt sleeve in one mouth and his shorts in the other.  He was yelling for help in between laughs.  He called for me to rescue them.  When I got in the room, I felt like I was watching a nature show with two grizzlies going at each other.  I threatened to video tape them and make it viral thus starting the beginning of the extinction of pugs entirely because no one would want one after seeing that behavior.  I don’t think the threat was taken seriously in any way, shape or form.

Every year come November, usually around the first part of the month I start to feel all of the walls closing in on me.  You would think that after so many years I would be used to it, but I get stressed out to the max and feel pulling to cord to get off at a different stop.

Many things combine to make me start feeling this way.  First of all it turns off cold.  I hate the cold.  It is pretty sad when the only things you want for Christmas are things that will keep you warm like warm slippers, onsie PJ’s and an electric blanket.  I can’t use these things any other time of the year but winter.  It sucks!

I begin to start feeling like I am being pulled in directions I physically cannot go.  Because the pulling begins all at once and never in the same direction.

When I get to this point, I start doing real stupid things.  Not consciously, I just get scattered brained and start doing things that I normally don’t do.

Like yesterday…

A guy came into school a couple of days ago needing a website made.  There are three of us that will be working on it.  Two of us were at school yesterday and the proposal had to be put together.  I was the guinea pig because I was the only one that new Excel.  This was the first big thing I have had to do since being in school.  I was stress out because it had to be done yesterday.

After about 2 hours of putting it together, when I finally finished I realized that I had to go to the bathroom like yesterday.  I don’t know if I am the only one like that or other people are, but when I am so into something I forget what is going on around me.  I decided I should run up the hall and “relieve my waters” before getting on with some of my other work.  Because I had been so stressed out, I wasn’t thinking clearly and before you know it I found myself standing in the men’s bathroom.

I hadn’t even noticed the different colored floor until it was too late.  I can only imagine the look of horror on my face when I realized what I had done.  I turned and hauled my butt out of there faster than you can say, “Bob’s your uncle”.  I didn’t look behind me to see if I had been seen coming out of there like there was a fire.  I told myself…..”It’s starting” I won’t be myself again until January.

So I say to myself, “So long semi-sane until later.  I can only hope that glimpses of you will occasionally emerge to let me know you are still there waiting to come back to stay.”

My daughter showed me this video last night that I can relate with.  I am “Granny” at this time of year.

Have you ever had one of those days or in my case weeks where your mind is anywhere but where it should be.  I am so stressed out and overwhelmed right now that I am not thinking right.  When this happens I need music.  I have an extremely bad habit of cranking the tunes so loud that I cannot think.  It is therapy.  This morning, my therapy happened to be Doobie Brothers at about 200 decibels.  Which would probably kill me because I don’t think there is a measurement for decibels that high.

This morning I got to school and realized that I was wearing my son’s shirt.  It is a Lego Star Wars shirt that says, “Do You Want a Piece of Me”.  Yeah, I am so ready to pick a fight today. I grabbed the shirt out of the laundry thinking it was mine and threw it on.  I didn’t bother turning on the lights.  My bad.  At least I won’t be able to hear anyone tell me that it isn’t my shirt or any other comments related to it.

To prove my point about the status of my brain, this strange truck showed up in front of our house around Labor Day.  It has been parked up there for almost two weeks without a license plate or anything.  I called my sister who works for a police department and was talking to her about how sick I am of looking at it because it hinders our view of getting out of our driveway and other things.  Anyway, she told me it could be stolen so I should call the police just to be safe to have it checked out.  I did call them a week ago.  They traced the VIN back to a town about 30 minutes away and said he would alert their PD and see what they could find out.  He told me that he couldn’t tow it away until it had been abandoned for a week.  Fine.  I was hoping the owner would come and get it.

The truck was still there yesterday which made almost two weeks.  My husband I were on our way into town and I told him that I was calling the cops tomorrow to haul it away because I was sick of looking at it.  When we came back from town, I noticed it was gone.  Yippee!!!  Well, not really….it was in my neighbor’s back yard.  I almost towed my neighbor’s car away.  Can I even tell you how bad that could have been.  How would I explain that one?  There would have been no way out of that one except to come clean.  I guess I could tell them that I haven’t been deaf long enough to read lips.  That would work.

My “nerd” status has just hit an all time high today.  If there is one notch below  or above the “nerd” scale, I have just joined the ranks.  Just ask my daughter who I have completely humiliated today. Not to mention what I did to myself.

I was helping her with a homework project.  We went to her college to take pictures.  Spirits were high and smiles were from ear to ear!  Then, epic failure…..I proceeded to climb over a cement wall to take a short cut up a hill and totally underestimated the height of the wall.

One thought entered my mind as I was “swan diving” to the groud……”Any chance of my daughter having a normal college life has just come to an abrupt end”.  Why is it when you wake up one morning and decide you are going to make a fool of yourself, you can’t have a say in how many people or who can witness the stupid act.  I feel if I am going to do that, to be fair I should have a say in it somehow.

At 42, you are nowhere near as resilient as you were when you were say, 39.  Something about hitting 40 does something horrible to your body.  I can honestly say that the last time I was this banged up was when I was running with a wheelbarrow and the front hit cement bringing it to an abrupt stop.  My shins never fully recovered from that.  I don’t complain about an “old football” injury….mine is an “old wheelbarrow” injury.  I could probably add in there skiing, roller skating, biking…….What is up with me and cement anyway?

As I lay on the side of the wall waiting for my injured legs to get feeling in them again, I  couldn’t help but laugh.  I have to admit, that had to have been pretty funny looking.  I am sure that the story will find its way around campus how someone eyewitnessed a lady totally biffing it on the wall.

Go ahead young ones, talk all you want.  I will sit with my 5 ounce raw steaks and ice packs on my propped up legs, drinking my chocolate milk and hoping that I totally made your day!