normal family (except for weird devil dog picture)
493 divided by 23.3
uh oh… Mom’s mad! (notice that Andy is instinctively pointing at Caitlin…)
now we’ve done it! we woke up Dad! here he comes!!
Funny true story about waking up our dad in the middle of the night.
Caitlin and I were up late one night, playing around on instant messenger with her friends. No good can come from us being up after midnight: it’s a fact.
Well, anyway, somehow my parents went to bed without realizing that we were still up and playing on the computer at 2 a.m.
Eventually our giggling woke up our dad 2 floors over us. We heard his feet hit the ground next to his bed and we KNEW we were in trouble. I tried to quickly shut down the computer and turn out the lights while Caitlin brilliantly started pacing in circles and then locked herself in the furnace room, still walking in circles and laughing the laugh of a girl in trouble.
Now, my dad is hilarious when he is mad. It’s not funny at the time – it’s usually pretty intimidating – but man, in retrospect, it’s pretty funny. When Dad is awakened from his slumber (which is often because he is a light sleeper), he squints with one eye and scratches his butt. I don’t know why he scratches his butt and I’m not sure what is accomplished with this maneuver, but that’s just what he does.
So when we heard Dad coming down the stairs, we knew he’d be squinting and scratching and generally not pleased with the two of us. I barely got the computer turned off before Dad made it all the way from his room to the basement.
“What is going on down here? What are you doing up?” asked Dad. And when I say “asked”, I mean “growled”. Also, I am significantly editing the colorful language dad used when asking these questions.
“We were on the computer….” I replied lamely, racing to the stairs, following Caitlin up the stairs (somehow she made it out of the furnace room and to the stairs before I did).
“Uh uh uh uh uh… uh… uh…” replied Caitlin.
“Get to bed. Gettobed! Get. To. Bed! NOW! What is wrong with you people??”
I guessed correctly that the last question was rhetorical in nature and wisely declined to respond.
“Ok ok ok ok!” I was panting as I was racing up the stairs behind Caitlin. Dad posed no physical threat, but the faster we got to bed, the sooner the squinting and scratching would cease.
Caitlin was up those stairs so fast that she was already cowering under her covers before I got up there.
Lesson? For pete’s sake – don’t wake up Dad!!
So obviously I’ve been pretty sad lately (as in over the past few days).
But the Irish girl in me (about 1/4 to 1/8 of me… I’m a bit diluted) is fighting hard to find a joke in here.
I think about different conversations I have had or might have, and I try to work in a infertility joke.
It’s not possible.
Infertility is the most unfunny topic ever.
And even when I think of something that sounds funny to me, I realize that if I say it out loud, I will put everyone else in a bad spot. You can almost see the panic on peoples’ faces as they think: Laugh? Don’t laugh? Is it funny? I don’t know! I don’t know! HELP!
That’s not really fun for anyone.
I guess I’ll just have to honor the Belgian in me: chocolate and beer, please!
I’d long considered the Good Bar the “filler” candy in the mixed bags of miniature candies (you know, the assortment with milk chocolate, dark chocolate, krackle and Good Bar).
It’s the Good Bar. It’s not my personal favorite (miniature Reeses Peanut Butter Cups all the way!), but I had a miniature Good Bar today.
Think about it: the peanut is America’s nut. If you don’t like the peanut, you are probably allergic to it. Peanuts are the perfect snack because just a small amount goes a long way!
They have protein. Who doesn’t need more protein??
Take the peanut and coat it with the perfect proportion of smooth milk chocolate and it IS the Good Bar. MMM!
If only it came in dark chocolate – then I think it could give the miniature Reeses Peanut Butter Cup a run for its money.
And that is my third grade narrative on the Good Bar. Thank you.
Sally is our new snow blower.
After a somewhat rocky start (how do I put this thing together? where is the gas? what is a choke? how much oil goes in there?? wait, where is the oil thingie??) and a 30 minute break to let the engine dry out (woops), Sally and I conquered the driveway.
What a thrill!
After just 30 minutes (several minutes were spent banging snow off of our pine tree so that the branches weren’t hanging too low and hitting me in the face) I was back in side, in my comfies and watching TV.
But I didn’t come in until I wiped down the snowblower and made sure she was safe in the garage. I thought about bringing her into the house for the night, but I thought it might be too much.
Ah, sweet Sally. Welcome to the K Fam.
And lots of thanks to Frank for getting her!
Tonight I went to Dominick’s to pick up about 12 lbs of sweet potatoes, 20 oranges and an ovulation predictor kit. Yeah, that’s right, an ovulation predictor kit.
Our Dominick’s hasn’t carried an OPK since August. I’ve complained to them. I’ve even encouraged them, “Surely this is a high margin product that takes up relatively little shelf space. And hey, I’m a sure thing – I will BUY the kits – promise!”
So tonight, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I decided to harass a poor, awkward 16 year old boy, who was probably counting down the minutes to going home and playing Rock Band or blowing 2 hours on YouTube videos. We’ll call him Ed. Ed was slowly facing the toothpaste aisle.
Me: Excuse me…
Me: Hi, do you have any more of the Clear Blue Easy Ovulation Predictor Kits in back?
Ed: Uh… yeah, uh, let me go check in the back.
Ed trudged off to the back room to probably pace back and forth for a while, kick a few large boxes and wonder what he did today to deserve to look for women’s feminine hygiene-type products. He might have asked a manager back there about it, but probably not.
Then Ed shuffled back down the aisle to me.
Ed: uh, yeah… no… uh … none of those back there.
To Ed, wherever you are, one day you’re going to have to hold your wife’s purse in the mall and it won’t even phase you – you know why? Cuz I made you go look for an Ovulation Predictor Kit. Ed, your wife will thank me later 🙂
I have a walk of shame. Well, sadly, I have two.
My first walk of shame is from my desk to the beverage station. For those of you who have not heard my tales of woe from the beverage station–Leo Burnett/Starcom supplies all of their lovely employees with soda. All you can drink–for free!!! Who DOESN’T love that?? But unfortunately I have worn a path from my desk to the station and back. This walk has resulted in many a day where I bounce giddily in my seat and annoy my cubemate.
My second walk of shame is from my desk to the Admin. Assistant’s desk. This walk has little or nothing to do with the AA–and everything to do with the table in front of her desk. This glorious table occasionally features the leftovers from meetings–huge muffins, assorted cookies, yummy bagels, cookies, fruit, pizza–you name it!
This second walk of shame is becoming a problem. I didn’t realize HOW MUCH of a problem until the AA stopped by my desk on her way to the bathroom to let me know the Proctor and Gamble team had a meeting and the table was loaded with yummy treats. While I was slightly embarassed by my reputation, I was also grateful to be given such a prime opportunity to raid the goody table. If she didn’t tell me, who knows what delicious treats would have passed me by!
That, my friends, would have been the real shame.
(It’s my page and I’ll be cheesy if I want to)
10. He calls me at work and asks me what I’m wearing (nothing) and then we discuss Starcom Naked Days (nonexistent).
9. He puts his very cold hands on my very warm tummy. Hm……..
H. He makes me relax–although that usually requires him to physically hold me down or some ice cream. (take your pick…)
7. He doesn’t mock George (my car) as much as I’m sure he wants to.
6. He loves all of me–even personality #8 (down girl!).
5. He listens to me talk for three hours in person, then talks to me on the phone. AND STILL TALKED TO ME IN THE MORNING!
4. He makes me laugh, even when I am blue.
3. He can talk me down from my metaphorical “ledge”. (That’s CRAZY talk!)
2. He eats what my mom puts in front of him–no questions!
And the top reason Frank rocks my world:
1. His hands love my hands, even when they are being b&tchy.