Funny

Mothering 101

Tonight as I talked with my husband, I was expressing my concern for a friend who just had her third baby.

I asked LeGrand, “What can I do to help her transition?” I really want to try and alleviate some of her adjustment pain.

“Should I call the Relief Society and set up meals and babysitting?” LeGrand with his infinite wisdom says, “Yeah, you could do that, but why prolong the inevitable nervous breakdown.”

And, here is the telling rest of the paragraph. I hate to nark on myself here, but it is just too funny not to share. Here is what came straight from my hubby’s mouth.

LG: “Alice, she has to figure it out on her own. She’ll have the nervous breakdown, just like you did, and she’ll then figure stuff out on her own.”

Me: “Stuff, like what?”

LG: “Like, she’ll quit bathing her kids every day, and she’ll get a hobby, and she’ll let them sit in front of the TV, wash her dishes once a week, and get behind on her laundry.”

With LG’s raving review of my mothering skills, don’t you think I should call my friend right now and impart all my knowledge? And, also, don’t ya’ll think I deserve a really GREAT BIG Mother’s Day gift for learning every Motherhood survival technique known to womankind?

A Stinkin’ Contest

O.k. I am not usually in to the tootin humor, but I came up with this idea and I thought that I would see where it will take us.

I want to have my own little contest. (I plan to do this from time to time – with different topics of course, but I had to start with the most popular for humorists: the good old fashioned passing of gas)

The contest: Comment with a link to the funniest true flatulence story that you have written. Whoever I think is the funniest will win.

The deadline: This Friday, April 18th by midnight.

The prize: I will mail this funny whoopie cushion to ANYONE of your choice in the US or Canada as a totally hilarious SURPRISE. Of course it will include this funny joke, a url to your funny blog post, and an explanation of how YOU decided to make someone’s day.


O.k. , we are settled, and if this isn’t the funniest contest you have ever seen on the internet, I would like to know about the one that is funnier.

Here is a joke for you:

SILENT BUT DEADLY
Doctor, “What seems to be the problem?”

Patient, “Doc, I’ve got the farts. I mean I fart all the time,”

The Doctor nods, “Hmm.”

Patient, “My farts do not stink and you can’t hear them. It’s just that I fart all the time. Look, we’ve been talking here for about 10 minutes and I’ve farted five times. You didn’t hear them and you don’t smell them, do you?”

“Hmm,” says the Doctor,

He picks up his pad and writes out a prescription.
The patient is thrilled “Great doc. This prescription, will it really clear up my farts?”

“No,” sighs the Doctor, “The prescription is to clear your sinuses. Next week I want you back here for a hearing test.”

And, I can’t leave this post without honoring my father in law, Duane.

You will never see the man laugh as hard as when the subject of “tooting” comes up…it literally draws tears from the man.

He laughs so hard when we talk of the subject that my brother-in-law Jordan has promised his dad that when he dies, we will have a fart-off at his funeral, just to see if we can hear his laughter one last time, coming from the other side.

Bras

At dinner tonight, we had THAT conversation. It went something like this.

Me: “Abigail, you know, you guys are all growing so fast, you will need a bra before you know it.”
Abigail: “No I won’t.”

Me: “Yes, you will, probably by about the 5th grade, enjoy your freedom while it lasts, you only have a couple of years left.”

Abigail: “Some of my friends already have bras. R*** has one, and so does J***.”

Me: “What, J*** has a bra? She doesn’t need a bra.”

LG: “I need a bra more than J*** needs one.” (LG wants me to clarify, just in case any of you would actually worry about, he has no idea what J even looks like, much less her bra size…he just figures that his boobs are bigger than any third graders out there)

And refering to his own breasts may be the only time LeGrand chimes in when the topic of bras comes up. That and when he reminds me that he can still unclasp m….(I better not go there…you remember the rule…the bedroom is off limits.)

Karma

My husband, LeGrand, and I recently made a huge change in our control of finances. He took over the bills and the budget. I have done such a fabulous job for the past ten years, that we decided he should take a turn. Or, I needed to reign myself in more efficiently. But, hey, I am proud that he has never tried to control me, it was all my idea!

I really have done a great job giving us a fairly normal life for the past four years of grad school. Being a stay home mom with three kids and a partially working husband has not been easy, to say the least. But, having LG take over has been an even more exciting challenge. Let’s just say that my eyes have been opened to a whole new penny pinching world. And, so have his. It’s supposed to get better after school, not worse.


These are just a few of the law books

that the money from our budget

paid for in the past four years.

The total amount paid for law school:

trust me, when I say,

you don’t want to know.

(Besides, we really haven’t
paid for anything but the books –
we have the next 30 years for that)

This is the milk dripping off the car last Saturday.
We had gone to Sam’s Club
and I dropped the milk in route from the cart to the van.

To salvage the rest of the gallon,
I placed the upside down container (hole on top)
inside a shopping bag.

I had LG hold it just at the right angle,
out the window of the car, all the way home.

By the time we got home,
there was only a remaining half gallon
(but hey, in today’s world that adds up to $2.25)

Did I mention that it was cold and raining outside?
It took LG’s arm a good 1/2 hour to defrost.

And, even though he wouldn’t admit it,
he was laughing inside when after he complained
I purposefully ran through that mud puddle .
(The kids and I didn’t even try to hide our amusement)

This is the vanilla that I wish I would have known about.

My self proclaimed budget at Sam’s was $100, and when I reached my limit, I left the desired vanilla behind.

The next day, when I reached my desired $80 budget at the grocery store, I again left the vanilla on the shelf.

Two hours later, I had to borrow some from the neighbor.

Sixteen hours after I borrowed, I found this little culprit in the back of my shelf, hiding behind all my spices.


This is the brand new bottle of Clorox wipes.

When we got it out of it’s package, there were no wipes inside, just suds. The estimated worth of the missing wipes…$3.

I think that Sam’s Club is out to get me.

This is me at the bank trying to redeem a twelve dollar service charge.

The bank closed out our overdraft credit card last year without telling us. (Good for us, we never used it)

Now, the bank it trying to penalize us for not having the correct kind of checking. (it needs to be linked to a line of credit)

I have no idea why it took the bank eight months to finally give us a service charge. I think they waited just long enough so that they could make us reapply for the credit. Is there a conspiracy?

LG told me that if I could get the $12 back it was ALL MINE! So, after getting nowhere with customer service on the phone, I carted a couple of kids into the local branch. Sophia took my picture.

So, on to the Karma. Since January when LG took over the finances, he has become notorious for leaving all of our money in savings, except for what we absolutely HAVE to have. Whenever I go to the store, I have discovered that I better call and make sure that we have money in checking. I cannot tell you how many times my card has not gone through. I have gotten onto LG about this several times. It is so embarrassing! And especially frustrating when you have just wrestled your way all the way through the vastness Wal-Mart with three kids in tow.

Friday night we stopped to rent some movies. Food City has a great deal: 5 catalog movies for five nights for $5. LG was standing with the girls as I went to check out. What happened? Do you have to ask? My debit card was declined for the third time of the week. I paid with my credit card, while shooting LG a look and explaining to the clerk that we really do have money. Let’s just say LG and I didn’t do much talking the rest of the night. He thought that I had spent too much money, and I knew he just didn’t transfer enough money. He went to his laptop to crank out the numbers and I came to my refuge that we call the blog. One hour later, he came out and apologized. He said it would never happen again. We made up.

Fast forward. It is Saturday night at 11:30 PM; LG has not arrived home from the church yet. I begin to worry. He comes running in the door, asking me where his Discover Card is. “I don’t know, it was laying out on the table last I saw it”, I reply. I had washed LG’s wallet the week before, when it was “misplaced” for the thousandth time. (Everything is misplaced to LG, not lost, because he always finds it eventually – he is still searching for his first three wedding bands) LG had transferred the contents of his wallet to his new wallet that was gifted to him by Abigail at Christmastime, and he couldn’t find his credit card.

I inquired, “What do you need it for?” LG shrugged, “I just went and got gas and my debit card was declined. I couldn’t find my credit card either, and the clerk said she was going to call the authorities. I tried to go to the ATM and take it out, but even though I transferred the money last night, it wasn’t in there. I tried to take it out of savings, but the bank said that service wasn’t provided with our account.” I promptly ran to pay for his gas. When I got home we did a thorough search for the missing Discover Card…..it was right in his wallet the whole time.

It’s a good thing the man has a sense of humor…because you know I was laughing AT him the whole time. It made me feel better that he was laughing too.

Hey, you’re scary.
That’s better.
Your eyes are closed.
Thank you.
You’re welcome.

Oil and Water

Sometimes I think my husband and I are just TOO different….until I read a joke like this. And then I think, “oh, it could be so much worse.”

While attending a Marriage Seminar dealing with communication, Tom and his wife Grace listened to the instructor, “It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other.” He addressed the man, “Can you describe your wife’s favorite flower?” Tom leaned over, touched his wife’s arm gently and whispered, “It’s Pillsbury, isn’t it? The rest of the story gets rather ugly so I’ll stop right here.

Chicken Humor

Here’s a funny one about chickens…I thought it appropriate since I am almost an adopted chicken farmer now.

Bob, the chicken farmer

A life-long city man, Bob decided to leave the rat-race, move to the country and become a chicken farmer, so he found a nice chicken farm and bought it. Turned out that his next door neighbour, a kind, generous man named Fred, was also a chicken farmer.

Fred came for a visit one day and said, “Chicken farming isn’t easy. Tell you what. To help you get started, I’ll give you 100 chickens.”

Bob was thrilled. Two weeks later the Fred stopped by to see how things were going, and Bob said, “Not too good. All 100 chickens died.”

Fred said, “Oh, I can’t believe that. I’ve never had any trouble with my chickens. I’ll give you 100 more.”

Another two weeks went by, and Fred stops in again. Bob told him, “You’re not going to believe this, but the second 100 chickens died too.”

Astounded, Fred asked, “What went wrong? What did you do to them?”

Well, Bob said, “I’m not sure whether I’m planting them too deep or not far apart enough.”

Sunday Fun

Here is a good joke for your next Old Testament Lesson:

The Whole Lot

A father was reading Bible stories to his young son. He read, “The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife looked back and was turned into a pillar of salt.”

The son asked, “What happened to the flea?”

Oh…the laundry!

To start a long post, and hopefully motivate you to keep reading, here is a joke I read recently:

Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, “What setting
do I use on the washing machine?”
“It depends,” I replied. “What does it say
on your shirt?”
He yelled back, “University of Oklahoma.”
And they say
blondes are dumb…

Warning this is a loooooong post…but it just had to be done all together, and if you want to know why, you must read the whole thing.

The laundry that a mother of 3 has to gather, treat, wash, (and sometimes rewash) fold, and put away is NEVER ENDING. My friend Tracy told me that if you ever want a glimpse of eternity, you should just compare it to laundry. Eternity will be different and hopefully a lot more fun than laundry, but the cycles will probably very similar. Clean, put away, wear, dirty…you get it.

I have posted about laundry before…here and here (for the more spiritual side of laundry). It shouldn’t surprise you that the subject has reared its ugly head again. I am a mother. And mothers are made of the stuff they learn while laundering. Some of us glean more lessons than others. That is why I like to take so long to do my laundry…I have the opportunity to learn so much more this way.

A couple of weeks ago, Faye and her mom, Grandma Henderson stopped by. They were on their way to go and help a very pregnant cousin, but some bad weather gave them a “wait out a Southern storm” pit stop at my house. They were greeted by my 10 loads of laundry waiting so patiently on family room floor to be folded. The pile had been growing for at least three days.

Grandma didn’t even try to contain her amazement, as I kept bringing her basket upon basket of clean and wrinkly clothes (the only way we fold laundry around here is wrinkly). I have to give Grandma credit though, she was so cute, as she just kept folding steadily and cheery.

Grandma grew up with 10 siblings in a log cabin in the hills of North Carolina. She also raised 4 children. In response to the hour of the 3 of us folding constantly (except when I stopped to snap photos) Grandma said with all seriousness, “I have never seen this much laundry in my life. It reminds me of when I was growing up and my mom didn’t do laundry between Christmas and Old Christmas, and even then we didn’t have this much.” (Grandma didn’t know what Old Christmas was, but you can read here for a good history lesson…so interesting)Yep, I can always amaze people; even when they are aged and think that they have experienced everything, they really just haven’t spent enough time with ME!

Well, I have to say that I was kind of embarrassed, and partially relieved…luckily, there was no lingerie in the pile. Faye also did my dishes; it was lucky for her that they had only been piling up since that morning. (did you know that I have NO dishwasher? – married for ten years and I have only had a dishwasher for a total of 10 months – and THAT is something to brag about – my hands are even still soft at times)

It was so nice of Faye and Grandma, especially considering they were only here a total of 2 hours. What can I say though, LG is a product of some of the best women in the world? I hollered out as they were leaving, “Any time you want to come and do my laundry or my dishes, just stop on by.”

It can probably go unsaid, but laundry is always something that I have NOT mastered. What can I do to make it less torturous…I have no answers…yet.

So, when I was out with some girls the other night, we sat and talked and talked. We had so much fun, even if The Olive Garden fed us “puke dip”(affectionately named by the one and only Cally) OG’s new Smoked Mozzarella Fonduta Dip is NOT good. That was an understatement..it was nasty (what a bummer) And, yes, I took a picture of it. (Keep reading this does have to do with laundry)

If you want to read from the girls I was with, go to Cally, Lori, and Mandy. Sorry, Rachel doesn’t have a blog (what is she thinking?) I had no idea that Cally and I shared an affinity for Black Tie Mousse Cake….YUMMY! But they changed the crust from Oreos to cake. I hope they go back, it used to be so much better; I was so disappointed.

Come to think of it, I was disappointed with the only two things I ordered that night, between the girls and the bread sticks, I didn’t even notice.

Anyhow, back to the laundry. Throughout the night, I was laughing so hard because it was as if we couldn’t start ONE sentence without the word blog in it. Here are examples of starter sentences. “On my blog”, “Oh your blog”, “Did you read that blog”, “That is some great blog material” or the best being “I have got to blog about that”.

On the way home, we were discussing how pathetically addicted we all are at the moment…and it only makes it worse that we feed off of each other.

To change the subject, I proposed the question, “Can anyone help me with my laundry dilemma?”

We had a great lengthy discussion of many great ideas that I am too lazy to try and have already ruled out. The discussion really led to my confession of forgetting to stay on top of my laundry because of my blog. The girls and I all decided that they should send me random “do your laundry” reminders in the my blog’s comments from time to time. This way I couldn’t conveniently forget. You can imagine my delight, when a week later, Cally posted this. (She has a way with surprise…she waited just long enough for me to forget the conversation…the Cruze’s are so good with the element of surprise)

This is what the boys did while we went out. ..

Maybe I should have taken over my laundry for them..surely we would have got home before 2 am if they were folding instead of warring….Man, I can’t remember the last time I stayed up until 2 when blogging wasn’t involved.

How do you like your easter eggs?

We went to breakfast at a restaurant where the “seniors’ special” was two eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for $1.99.
“Sounds good,” my wife said. “But I don’t want the eggs.”

“Then I’ll have to charge you two dollars and forty-nine cents, ’cause now you’re ordering a la carte,” the waitress said.

“You mean I’m going to have to pay more for not having the eggs?” my wife asked, incredulously. “Then I’ll take the special.”

“How do you want your eggs?” asked the waitress.

“Raw, in the shell,” my wife replied. She took the two eggs home.