Tag Archives: marriage

Fried Chicken and a Movie

My husband and sons’ annual Yellowstone camp out is coming up so my husband has to get completely caught up at work.  This usually means we don’t see him the weekend before he goes somewhere.

Saturday, he had a couple hours break and we decided to go to a movie.  I knew he wouldn’t have eaten yet, so while grocery shopping, I bought him his FAVE: Albertson’s Fried Chicken.

Then I snuck it in.

I'm just a girl. Going to a Movie. With a Book Bag.

I’m just a girl. Going to a Movie. With a Book Bag.

I’m sure I didn’t look odd carrying a book bag into a movie.

After all.

It is the best place to read.

Here Chicken Chicken Chicken

In April, the Apocalypse occurred.

My husband bought chickens.

He told me he and the kids were getting me a surprise.  I was thinking something shiny and  sparkly that costs lots of money.

I only got the “costs lots of money” correct.

We had discussed chickens.  I had said no.  I need to find a new word.

Chickens were purchased because they are supposed to give us eggs and you can give them food and water and leave them alone in the hutch.

This is very, very wrong.

The chickens don’t like their hutch.  It’s a nice hutch.  It said it was for 5-7 chickens and there are only three.  I don’t know how 5-7 were to live in it because with the 3, it seems crowded.  And they like to get out.

I think they purposely knock over their water and start making tons of noise so that they’ll get more.  Then, when the door is open, they try to make a run for it.

See them waiting at the door?

See them waiting at the door?

I was supposed to have nothing to do with them.  This worked great when it was summer and the kids were around all day.  But now they’re in school and the chickens can be incredibly loud.

I’m usually very good at keeping them in the cage when I feed them.  I yell and kick and you’d think they’d hate me.  But today, I wasn’t quick enough and they got out.  Then they followed me around.

It was creepy.

I cut up a green tomato to get them back in the cage but that didn’t work.  I threw in an oatmeal cookie and that didn’t work.  I even tried some apple bread.

What worked?  Lemon bread.  Go figure.  (We had a gathering at our house this week.  I don’t normally have this amount of baked goods.)

So now we have annoying chickens that are probably developing cavities.

This is a horrible picture but if you squint, you can see lemon bread.

This is a horrible picture but if you squint, you can see lemon bread.

They’re cackling right now.  It’s driving me nuts.

Is it illegal to hire someone to kill chickens?

How to Get Back at Your Spouse in a Really Lame Way

Sometimes, this may surprise you, my husband and I get on each others’ nerves.  I know.  Like I would get on ANYONE’S nerves.

When I get mad, I can get petty and try to get back at him by spending money.   I’m not sure I’m taking revenge buying to its highest potential, though.

Recently, I needed two new sports bras.  Bras are expensive but sports bras can be really pricey.  So to show how mad I was, I bought THREE.  Did you see that? I only NEEDED two.  But I BOUGHT 3.

That third bra was bought solely for revenge. It’s my revenge bra. My husband actually has no idea I even bought it, but I do. And I’m hoping it helps me run faster.

It would if I were a TV character. Of course if I were a TV character, take Emily Thorne on REVENGE, for instance, I’d buy the mansion next to his, and slowly destroy his entire family and business associates while crossing their faces off with a red sharpie.

My anger purchase looks kind of lame next to that.

I really should work on my pettiness.  It’s not a good attribute.  Or take it to the next level and actually tell my husband when I revenge buy. What I’m doing now just seems kind of frivolous.

But at least I’m feeling fully supported.

Maybe I should up my game by buying a new car.

Maybe I should up my game by buying a convertible.

Here Fishy Fishy Fishy

I just got the receipt for a fish my husband is having stuffed and mounted onto a plaque. I’m not sure if these are the correct terms, but my knowledge in this field is limited. And I wish it was more limited.

Because this is expensive.

I could buy 10 pairs of shoes. Or at least one.

I think he’s giving it to his mom for Christmas. I’m unsure if she reads my blog, but even if she does, I think one should be prepared if one is going to receive a large, dead fish as a gift.

If we are keeping it, it may end up at the lake. In a closet. In the garage.
Except that it cost so much to have it modge podged that we would have to hang it where people could see it.

Like at his office.

He scares kids there already, after all.

Welcome To Our Home

Welcome To Our Home

(Disclaimer: it is a huge fish and I may have asked if he was getting it mounted because it was so big and I would actually hang it up at the lake but how fun is that?)

What Am I Now That I’ve Grown Up

Generally I tell people I’m a writer.  Unless I tell them I’m a lawyer. Sometimes I’m unemployed.  They’re all true.  I guess the last one isn’t.  I work for my husband now.  I often look back on unemployment fondly.

I tell people I’m a writer because that’s what I truly feel I am.  But people ask what I’ve written which is funny, actually.  Because unless you’re JK Rowling, the likelihood that someone will recognize the title of something you’ve written is very small.  Try it.

Tell someone you’re a writer and then make up a title.  If a man asks, you could say, “The Lady’s Selection” and be pretty sure he won’t look it up.  If it’s a woman, that’s a little harder.  Try “The Bloodbath that is War.”

If I tell people I’m a lawyer, they ask me what type of law I practice.  I think this is to see if they can get some free advice.

If I’m bored and tell people I’m unemployed, I’ll try and start a political debate and throw in the phrase: “what a fascist.”  That can be really hard to do at times.

I try to avoid telling people I work with my husband’s books.  Because that’s the truth.

And I went to 6 years of graduate school so I could make stuff up.

Vocabulary Lessons

We are going backpacking as a family.  I’m not sure what has come over us but I guess we’re trying to force nature on our children.  It makes me feel better about letting small electronic devices occupy their time when I want a nap.

And to be honest, Kevin originally asked me if I wanted to go HIKING as a family.  Then he told his friend we were going BACKPACKING.  He didn’t think his change in vocabulary was that big a deal until I said I was going to buy a 2k cubic zirconia but was actually going to buy a 2k diamond.

I’m nervous about the backpack I’ll be wearing.  Kevin has said it’s a horrible bag but now that we need me to wear it, he is now saying it’s horrible because it’s too small not because it’s a horrible bag.  I’m usually not as picky on vocabulary as I have been recently.  But if I have to carry all of my possessions on my back, I need an amazing backpack and I think that’s why the story has changed.  Amazing backpacks come with an amazing price.

And we can’t afford it anymore.  Not after my previous vocabulary lesson.

(Dear prospective thieves: I didn’t REALLY buy a 2k diamond.  But it made for a better ending.  If you look through my jewelry box, you will find the cubic zirconia.  What if I just leave you a $20 on the front door?)

Out of the Comedy Groove

Lately I feel like I’ve gotten out of my comedy groove.  I’ve been treading water and although I learned to swim, I didn’t properly learn how to tread water.  It has something to do with moving your legs in different directions like egg beaters except that I don’t really use egg beaters unless I’m at my parents house and at home I just use a whisk and they don’t teach the ‘whisk’ way to tread water because you have two legs.

Let’s alter this metaphor.  I feel as though I’m up to my eyes in life.  Which also is technically not possible and I would come up with a better metaphor if I weren’t up to my eyeballs.

I had a week and I’m trying to bounce back and I can’t get enough air under me.  I can see the humor in it all but I can’t make it funny.  I feel like my squeaker is broken.

I threw 2 bday parties with over 13 kids each within 24 hours.   I had to do forensic accounting and find missing money (which sounds cool but is really depressing.).  An old friend decided to be ungracious, I woke up to be told I have skin cancer (minor, non-threatening, really just more of a pain kind) and then I got a migraine at the end of my triathlon.

There is TONS of material in here.  I mean all of this happened within a week.  And instead of it happening in 3’s, it happened in 6’s which just seems unfair and yet incredibly hilarious.  It’s unfortunate I didn’t get it in pictures.

I am definitely learning that no matter what happens in life, we can’t judge other people because they may have woken up and realized that every single kindergartener was in fact coming to the birthday party that night and they only had 12 squirt guns.  When faced with this type of pressure, a person is going to snap and it may happen while you’re watching.

So next time you find someone twitching while in line at Target, instead of passing judgement, pass them a Diet Coke.

(See?  I just don’t have it.  I think the migraine killed some brain cells.)
(I’m hoping the procedure to remove skin one layer at a time brings the funny back.)

Someone who does this to themselves should never lose their comedy groove.

Someone who does this to herself should never lose her comedy groove.

What to do if you’re a SAHM at a Conference

If you’ve ever been to a professional conference with your spouse and someone has asked you what you do and you’ve answered ‘stay at home mom,’ you’ve also experienced the glazed over look, the speaker staying for a polite 3-4 more sentences and then moving on.

I’m tired of people getting a glazed over look and leaving after a few polite sentences.  I want them to leave for more exciting reasons.  Or maybe just out of fear.
I’ve come up with a few alternatives:
If you aren’t at a Dental conference, tell people you are a dentist.  People will then ask about a tooth.  This may freak you out, but all you have to ask is, “Do you floss?”  The answer is always no and then you can tell them that there is nothing a dentist will ever be able to do for them again unless they regularly floss.

If you are at a Dental Conference, tell people you’re a lobbyist against fluoridated water.  People will still leave, but they’ll leave out of anger.

Another fun response: “I’m thinking of running for President.  Hillary Clinton was on the right track but she wore the wrong shoes.”  Then ask for a contribution.
“I’m trying to become a dictator of a small country off the coast of Canada.”  Then ask for a contribution.

Another favorite:
Lean in and very quietly say, “I take care of people” and then wink.

I hope this helps.  If nothing else, it will make generally boring conferences at least a little more interesting.

Or you could tell people you're a stay at home mom of zombie children

Or you could tell people you’re a stay at home mom of zombie children

My New Job Part 2

A while ago I posted how a fascinating conversation with a spouse is how much your spouse would pay you to work for them.

I thought I’d follow up.

Now it’s rude to state how much I make so I won’t.

But I will say: Remember that job I had in college where I made sandwiches at that bagel store?  In 1996?  I’m hoping that after my 3 month evaluation, I make as much.

I've kept this.  It's amazing how many situations it's helpful to wear it.

I still wear it in emergencies.

I’m a Wanna-Be Outsider.

I am enraged.  Can you tell?

I tell everyone and anyone they should do a race with me.  Mostly I do this so I have someone to hang out with after a race and because I like my friends and I to have matching clothing.  So everyone knows that I did the YMCA triathlon training last year and I was going to do it this year.

My husband is doing it this year and he told a couple people.  5 of his friends are the in the class.  My numbers aren’t that good.  One of my friends who took it last year is taking it again (so I’m not counting her even though she really and truly does count in every way.  Especially if she reads this) and another friend I swim with is taking it.  But that  means that my husband won 5-1.  He’s going to have 5 friends he can wear the same shirt with.  How cool is that?  They’ll be able to re-enact The Outsiders.

I think I need to change my tactics.  Maybe if I tell women we can re-enact The Outsiders they’ll be more willing to go.

Or maybe not.