Posts Filed Under funny


by bosssanders on August 4, 2015 with 1 comment

Over the past …well, always…I’ve collected so many thoughts and memories, that they swirl like a violent hurricane when I put pen to paper, to write.  A mentor suggested that I write down all of the memories.  Here’s a tiny piece…

I was born in the mid-80′s and was a cute little kid – if, by cute, you mean a baby Richard Simmons girl-child.  Although, to be fair, I didn’t begin that way.  My mother, either out of contempt or affection (I’m still not sure which) gave us matching afros for a few years.  I remember sitting (squirming) in a tall and ridiculously hard kitchen chair as mama yanked my hair half outta my head around curlers and papers.  Oh, and smell of perms – like dumping a pail of rotten eggs over your head – could be smelled for days.

I was so excited that first day of rolling papers – for my perm – as I squinted at the small television on the counter!  (We also learned I needed glasses that year.)  But, I JUST KNEW I’d have these beautiful, cascading curls.  Mama said I’d look just like a dark-headed Shirley Temple – and, who doesn’t love Shirley Temple?

Turns out, Mama’s a liar.

Instead of beautiful ringlets, I got a nest of hair that rose with the humidity.

In that same time-frame, I was gifted glasses, but not even the Mickey Mouses perched on the corners of the rims could make up for looking like a four-eyed squinty Bob Ross (minus the beard; that one came in my mid-20′s).

But, seriously, glasses suck.  And, if anyone tries to tell you differently, then they are a liar.  For the first few weeks of glasses-wearing, I had a patch over my eye.  My good eye.  I don’t really even know what it means for an eye to be “good.”  I mean, it was neither morally corrupt nor unusable.  It suited me perfectly fine!  I could still SEE.  Perhaps, had they just left it alone, I could have been the crazy-eyed buck-tooth bearded lady.  But, alas, they took that away from me with eye-patches and braces.  With my crazy wandering eye, beard, and fro, I could’ve looked like a mentally disturbed version of Bob Ross…in a dress.  The employment opportunities would’ve been endless!

Seriously, though.  Glasses.  Ugh.  Nowadays, teenagers are buying non-prescription glasses just to look “cute.”  Really.  What on Earth is wrong with these people?  Just, why?  I remember getting so frustrated in our Kentucky summers because just walking out the front door meant you’d need windshield wipers on your window-face.  Sometimes, people would even call you over to “look in the oven” just to see your glasses fog up instantly…or, so I’ve heard.

On one particularly warm hellish day, I had taken off my clown-spectacles because I hate them was hot and sweat was dripping down my face.  It wasn’t like I could see through them, anyways.  I set them on the back of the car.  We found them later at the end of the driveway, all twisted to bits, after someone had run an errand.  Of course, my parents blamed me for my carelessness, and I cried – but, not from the loss of the glasses, but because I was going to have to get new ones.

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filed under A Grand Adventure, funny

The Mean Mommy And Her No-Pet Rule

by bosssanders on May 29, 2014 with 1 comment

La has been begging for a pet, lately.  And, when I say lately, I mean like… every day for the past six months.

We don’t have anything against pets (we have had them in the past), it’s just “not where we are right now.”  And, by “not where we are right now,” I mean, having an uninsured, shedding individual with an insatiable appetite for non-edible things just doesn’t appeal to me at this moment in life.  Nor do pee-soaked carpets or big turd clusters in our tiny yard.  Okay, actually, I’m assuming the dog would be uninsured, but I’ve actually not checked Obama Care.  I’m sure it only applies to people, but you never know with that guy.

I accidentally shared this tid-bit with another mom – thinking there would be some sort of “Mothers Unite” and a high-five or something, but instead she looked at me like I had said that I hate puppies and kittens.  And, that’s just not it.

Actually, I really like and enjoy animals.  There’s nothing like cuddling a sweet cat or dog and burying your face into their soft fur…that is, until your eyelids begin to swell shut and your throat itches so badly that swallowing giant pieces of a cracker seems worth the risk of choking if only it will SCRATCH. THE. ITCH.  A bit of a fuzzbuzz-kill on the whole thing, really.

So, I explained that five out of six of us had pet allergies and not much space in our small yard…or, house, for that matter.  Not to mention, we’re just trying to simplify our lives by not adding more things that require constant upkeep (beyond the children and husband, of course).

You see, I already wipe several butts more often than I care to admit.  I single-handedly save children from choking, dangerous jumping, mauling each other, and forest fires on a daily basis.  I keep the peace, prevent children from dissecting power outlets with butter-knives, toasting their hands in the toaster-oven, and keep the house from burning down.  I feel pretty accomplished at the end of the day when we’re all mostly alive and the walls are still standing.  (I may not be standing, but WE. STILL. HAVE. WALLS! )  That, right there, is a success in my book.  And, nothing you say will change my mind.  Add in some Pinterest fun, children dressed, and supper on the table and I feel like SUPER MOM!

You know, we actually DID try fish.  They were lots of fun.  There was a little disappointment when La realized that they wouldn’t come to the surface when she sang like the animals do in Snow White.  I tried to explain it to her, but all she went away with was that maybe they’re deaf.  Or, dumb.  I think that talk went well, don’t you?

Unfortunately, fish don’t respond well to cuddling and we had to break it to her that the fish weren’t actually learning the complicated swimming technique of floating – they were just kinda dead.  Of course, we had a very special funeral with “last words” and flushing…and, of course, that special photographic moment where she posed with her dead fishies as she looked down at them ever so morosely.  That one’s a keepsake photo for the scrapbook, for sure.

After relating our position on pets (for now) to the other mother…

*Blank Stare.*

And then she gave me that look that said: “But, you want more kids?”

And, I just know that’s what she was thinking because I’m a gifted mind-reader and all.

So, I thought right back at her…  “Touché lady.  Although, I’m not sure how that actually applies, seeing as how we’ve never really had an issue with our babies eating our shoes or dropping dirties in the neighbors’ yards,  so we do have that.

But, I’m not sure she even heard me because not everyone can be mind-readers, like me.  It’s a super-special gift, like that.

***Note: We totally like other people’s pets except for the ones we don’t.  Sometimes, La shrieks, which is hilarious because she’s so adamant about wanting a dog.  So, I’m beginning to think she’s trying reverse-psychology…except, I don’t think she even knows what that is.

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