Monthly Archives: May 2012

And That’s How I Lost My “Chaperone Of The Year” Award

They say abstinence is the best form of birth control.  I disagree.  The best form of birth control is chaperoning a second grade field trip.  After spending a day with all of those kids, just the thought of having another baby will make your vagina pucker.

I was paired with another chaperone, and between us we had been assigned nine kids.  In my group were two of the least behaved boys in the grade.  They aren’t “bad” kids.  One just has a severe problem with authority and the other one has a very short attention span.  He listens and follows the rules until something shiny catches his eye.  With these kids in my group, I was left wondering who I pissed off and what I was being punished for.  The other chaperone I’d be working with was a man.  Well, I hope he likes vagina talk because that’s all I’ve got.

The boy who hates grown ups kept wandering off and I was afraid that we were going to lose him.  So I told him firmly that he would need to stay with the group.  Then I was afraid he was going to cut me.  At one point I considered pushing him into the alligator pit. (What?  They were baby alligators.) Well clearly I wasn’t going to push this kid into the pit, so I did the next best thing I could think of.  I tattled on him.  That’s right, I’m not even going to try to hide it.  I refuse to be the mom that lost someone else’s kid.

Next, they made me take them on the go-karts.  I hate go-karts, and here’s why:  You need at least two sports bras for proper support.  My boobs are about an inch lower than before I rode the devil’s push toys.

The arcade was last on the list.  It was an “every man for himself” nightmare.  The kids scattered like roaches, and it was hard to keep track of all nine of them, because after a while they all start to look alike.  I don’t know how teachers do it all day, every day.  I would need a taser and some vodka just to make it through lunch!  At one point I thought I’d lost one of the boys.  It turns out he was in an enclosed arcade game.  I opened the curtain, relieved to see him.  He was not as excited to see me and I’m pretty sure he flipped me the bird.

I was thankful I survived.  I was outnumbered, at times outsmarted, but in the end, I’m pretty sure my co-chaperone and I brought each one of those kids safely back to school.

Advertisements

A Quick “Thank You” To The People That Follow My Blog

I have 53 followers, and I’m so happy I could pee myself!  Except that I’ve already emptied my bladder.  Thank you to all that take the time out of your day to read what I have to say.  It’s nice to be heard!  Thank you for the comments you leave, for hitting like, or for passing my stories on to others.  You completely validate me.  Without you, I’d just be some crazy girl talking to herself again.  Probably in a padded room, wearing a straight jacket, which as a mom of three sounds kind of like a peaceful retreat right now.  I hope to continue to entertain you!

If I ever hit 100 followers, I’ll have to do something funny or drastic, take a video or picture as proof and post it on here.  I still have some time to think of something fun to do to celebrate that moment.  Until then, I’m always open for suggestions!

Thank you again for following my blog!  I’m having a blast, and it’s all because of YOU!  😛

The Kathy Griffin Experience

I am one lucky girl!  My husband, also known as the most awesome man in the world, took me to see Kathy Griffin perform live!  I’ve bugged him to go for about seven years now.  See girls, nagging works.

The night started off in a restaurant/pub which was over a hundred years old.  This place was once a police department, among a million other things, and now this creaky little piece of history was home to a bunch of hungry alcoholics.  I was among my own people.  So we took a seat at the bar, which was located directly below the balcony.  There was a waitress who was clearly having a bad day.  She was running into walls, tripping on the stairs, and spilling drinks.  Either she got into the liquor, or she had an inner ear infection, I don’t know.  At one point, she was on the balcony when all of a sudden there was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass.  At this point something was falling from above down onto our heads.  As the sound of things falling all around us fell silent, I came out from under the protection of my hands.  I didn’t notice any glass, just a lot of liquid, which judging by the smell of my hair, turned out to be beer.  I looked around at the other patrons sitting at the bar.  They all had their heads tilted up, mouths wide open and tongues hanging out trying to catch the falling drops as it rained down beer.  I was expecting some sort of “sorry about that” from the bartenders, but all they wanted was an extra tip for the “free shot of beer”.

So we get to the theater where Kathy Griffin was performing, and I was extremely buzzed.  I was done drinking.  Until I found out they had vodka and cranberry juice.  I waited in the ridiculously long bathroom line wishing I had worn Depends so I could just quietly pee my pants and get on with my night.  The three gray-haired women behind me decided they could not wait, so they stormed the men’s bathroom.  They went in, and a group of very embarrassed men came flying out.  It was fantastic!

I’ve never been near anyone famous and I’m always making fun of those people you see on TV that cry and pass out, or scream like little girls in the presence of a celebrity.  Seriously guys, they are just people, get a grip!  So Kathy Griffin comes out on stage and I start shrieking “It’s Kathy!  It’s Kathy!  Look she’s right there!”  I was like some ten-year old girl at a Bieber concert.  I should have been ashamed of my behavior, but I wasn’t.  I just kept tugging on my husband’s arm yelling at the top of my lungs “Oh my god it’s Kathy Griffin!”

So the show gets underway, everyone was cracking up, and then out of nowhere this guy rushes the stage.  Security was on top of it, except that security was this 102 year old man.  He was slow-moving, and you could see the dust falling from him as he attempted to stop this guy from getting near Kathy.  By the time security made it to the stage, the crazy fan was already back in his seat.  He left Kathy a note and a book he wanted signed.  She was a great sport and signed it.  I would’ve beat the hell out of him with it for stealing my stage time.

Anyway, it was a great show.  We laughed the entire time, had great seats, and great drinks.  I’ll definitely be attending another one of her shows and highly recommend seeing her if she’s ever in a city near you.

Man Rant Mondays VI

Welcome to the sixth installment of Man Rant Mondays.  It’s not so much “complaining” about men as it is “advice” for men given from a woman’s point of view.  As with all advice from a woman, you can either take it or be wrong.  It’s entirely up to you.

Man Rant Mondays VI:  Men and PMS

Clearly you are out of your league here.  If you know that we’re on a hormonal rampage, maybe pushing our buttons isn’t the best idea.  If you feel like living on the edge and you succeed in pissing us off, don’t act surprised and offended!  It’s what you wanted!  Congratulations, you’ve woke the beast.  Once you’ve gotten our panties in a bunch, don’t then invalidate our feelings by asking what day it is, and then saying something like “Oh, I know what this is about”.  Just so you know, it’s only half PMS.  You’re also kind of a douche.  Another thing that should never be said: “Who lit the fuse on your tampon?”  That will likely end in one of two ways, neither of which will be a win for you.  Either you’ll be strangled with said tampon (they have ropes, you know), or else we’ll end up in tears, which will make you very uncomfortable.  Please don’t mistake these for tears of sadness.  We’re just trying to throw you off your game while we struggle to remember where we last saw the scissors we’re going to stab you with.  Sleep with one eye open, that’s all I’m saying.  And never mess with the woman who’s in charge of your food.  Temporary insanity is a real excuse.

Thanks for reading Man Rant Mondays!  I hope you have a great week.

My Blog Addiction

Yeah, I'm sure my kid is saying this!

So it turns out that with all the time I spend writing, editing, editing again, editing some more and trying to organize all of the thoughts in my head, the rest of my house has gone to hell in a handbasket.  I’m up to my nipples in clutter and I’m like one dead rat away from being a bad episode of Hoarders.  I guess it was too much for me to expect the one year old to clean up after himself and cook his own meals.  So I’m going to peel myself away from blog world for the week to play catch up here.  Probably I’ll just end up taking naps and eating Suzie Q’s on the couch while watching reality television, but my goal is to be super productive.  Wish me luck.  I’ll see you next Monday, and I hope you have a fabulous week!

Dream Cheating

True...

I woke up from a nightmare about my husband cheating on me.  I glared over at him, snoring soundly in bed.  I reached for my pillow, grabbed it with both hands and got into the perfect position to smother him in his sleep for his indiscretions.  “What’s going on?” asks my husband.  (As if he didn’t know)  “You dream cheated, so I’m going to attempt to kill you.” I replied with ice in my voice.  “You can’t hold me accountable for what happens in your own dreams, they aren’t even real!” he declared.  “Fine” I smiled sweetly, laying back down to silently plot my revenge.  After we got out of bed, he offered to make me breakfast.  “It’s the least you can do, after all, you cheated on me last night”.  I said.  “Seriously, I was sleeping next to you all night long.” he says impatiently.  “Not in my head you weren’t!” I yelled.  I eventually found it in my heart to forgive him, but let him know that he’d better never do that again.

*The above story is mostly for comedy purposes only.  Don’t feel too sorry for my husband.  🙂

Jealous Ghost

I hear about wives telling their husbands all the time “If I pass on before you, I just want you to be happy, even if that means that you remarry.”  What?!  So I figured I should have that talk with my husband.  I sat him down and informed him that if I should pass on before him, I would like him to be happy.  He can play golf, buy an expensive car, start a gun collection, whatever makes him happy.  However, should his ass decide to remarry, I will haunt the f*ck out of them.  When shit starts flying off of the shelves hitting the new wife in the back of her head…I want him to know that’s me.  When she’s floating above the bed being choked out by some invisible force from hell…that’d be me.  When she gets locked inside of the closet by some ghostly apparition…me again.   Where ever I am, I’m still his wife.  Buy a dog for Christ’s sake.