Prayers Needed

I have to go to Hellmart and to the pharmacy. As I am dressed normally today and not going in pajama's I feel I could possibly be in danger and be attacked.
Thank you.

Good Mommy Blogger

We all know one of my favorite things is responding to nasty emails about my language and subject matter of my blog. But this one I prefer to embarrass publicly as well as by my return mail. Talking to CrazyMama reminded me of this one so I went back and dug it out of the idiot file to share.

I got an email a couple weeks ago from someone telling me I wasn't a "good mommy blogger" because a good mother wouldn't talk about her children the way I do.

The email:
 I am_____________I know you don't know me but I am an avid reader of all the Mommy Blogs and I must say when I came across yours from another blog I was astonished at the way you talk about your children and the names you call them. You are not what I would consider a good mommy blogger. Your funny, I will give you that, but I fear for the psyche of your poor children when they read what you write. Do you really want your children to grow up speaking that horrible language you use? I think not. Please consider this and clean up your act and make the world of Mommy Blogging even more enjoyable than it already is.
Thank you
_____________

Let's address his concerns, my reply to him:

Dear_______

 I promise you sir, if you lived with demon children you wouldn't be a good fucking mommy blogger either, it's a matter of survival, I get them before they can drag me to the depths of hell where their father lives.  Just consider yourself lucky I don't unleash on why a man is out there reading all the Mommy Blogs and critiquing them. Is there perhaps something you need to talk about? For some reason I picture you looking like Richard Simmons. As much as you love the Mommy Blogs, they bore the shit out of me, I prefer honesty and not a bunch of crap someone puts out there to make themselves look like Super Mom when we all know they are shoveling handfuls of sedatives down their throats just to be able to tolerate the little monsters just like the rest of us. I have never been one to read fiction.

Now let's get this straight so you will no longer feel the need to critique or read my blog again. First, I'm pretty sure it says somewhere on this site that I am NOT a Mommy blogger, hell if I had known then what I know now I would have ripped my womb out with my bare hands before ever getting pregnant. I will take full responsibility for being a slow learner and doing it five times before it occurred to me to do just that. Slow learner, hell, I was downright retarded when it came to that. I suppose that word offends you too? Too fucking bad. Is that better?

The names I call them fit, they can be evil. Haven't you ever seen the movie "Children of the Corn"? They are fully aware of the names I call them and find it amusing so I am pretty secure in the fact that their "psyche" is intact and they are just grateful I don't call them something else. Although, it does bother them sometimes when I get mixed up and call them by one of the dog's names, I am also secure in the fact that they will live through that too.

Well you thought wrong and I'm betting it isn't the first time in your life your thinking was a little off. I really don't give two shits what language they use, all my children are over 18, well except two of them and they are only a month shy of 18 so I consider that close enough, plus I have to factor in the fact that they are demon children and this is their native tongue. The only time I was slightly embarrassed by their language, and keep in mind it was so slight that I laughed like a fool all the way home, was the time I picked one of them up after church in the nursery at the age of  2 yrs and ask if he had a good time in there and he responded loudly "Fuckin' A!"

As for cleaning up "my act", I rather like my act the way it is. I can't stand stuffy, judgmental  fake people, much like you come off in your email. I can get confused at times so just in case your referring to the other kind of  "clean"  let me assure you that I wash my arm pits and my vagina every day when I bathe, use deodorant, put on some perfume and just for good measure I powder my pussy too. I mean you have to be prepared in case some salesman comes by that you want to fuck. I'm sure you do the same.

Now just a tiny word of advise, if you don't like a blog, then don't read it. It's very simple to  move on to one you do like. I'm sure there are some apple cheeked babies without horns out there somewhere to make you smile.

Thank you for your concern for my life and my children's.
Pajama Days in a Klonopin Haze

I Was Almost a Millionare!

So yesterday I get these legal notice in the mail that someone had used one of my copyrighted images along with many other artists images and they were being used in advertisements by different companies. One of a series of birthstone bears I had made a couple years ago and although I sold the bears to someone to use on the computer, with provisions that they could no be resold or used for profit in any way, my standard contract, I always retain my own copyright. Anyway someone had picked up my hidden watermark and turned it it to my licensing company who was also the same ones that licensed the other artists. The licensing company brought a class action law suit on our behalf (I didn't even know this was going on until yesterday) and reached a settlement with the company that stole them yesterday for 15 million dollars. Now keep in mind I already have my share spent by the time I picked up the phone to call the licensing company attorney, who assured me that my check would be in the mail by Monday. The amount calculated to be distributed to us artists was determined after legal fees, the companies fees for bringing the law suit and of course court costs. The remainder would be split between the artists. The whole time he is talking I have visions of all that I am going to do with that money, not frivolous things but things I need and can't buy. I can finally get all moved to Nashville, get my new glasses, get a new car, buy my son a car, go visit my family.....well you get the picture. So I ask him if the amounts had been calculated yet that would be distributed, he said yes and each one of us could expect to receive a check for $25 in the mail in the next ten days. $25 out of a 15 million dollar settlement!!! Almost all of the money went to the attorneys and the company for their "fees". Guess I'm going to have to change my plans a little.

Then today I open my email and have a letter from an attorney that my "likeness" and something I said on a Facebook status (God, I hope they at least stole something I said that was nice!) was being used for advertisement purposes, it had also happened to other people three of whom had seen theirs and hired an attorney for yet another class action suit. It was investigated and that is how they found the rest of us. They are trying to reach a settlement for 20 million dollars with Facebook for allowing the information to be stolen by the way they have things set up. But the kicker is, again by the time all is said and done we would only receive $5 to $10 each after attorney fees, court fees, etc. and if anymore people are found in the meantime and our share drops below that $5 then it will be considered unfeasible to to send out the shares and the money will go to a charity. So out of two settlements for a grand total of  35 million dollars I would come out with a whopping $30-$35. I am thinking the second one is probably a hoax and not even bothering with putting in my claim, it would eat up my reward just by buying a stamp and going to mail the claim. I replied with an email "somehow I find THAT unfeasible, and I would much rather have a cut of the profits that any company makes that is using my image and would they kindly send me the list of companies using it so I can handle the matter myself?" I figure if you put your picture publicly on any social network for millions to see in the first place then you obviously aren't that concerned with that picture being used or stolen, what the hell do I care if someone steals it?

I am always amazed at the people on FB who fall for all the scams out there, and I'm not saying the one above is, it could be legit I don't know, haven't bothered to check and won't. I get so amused when someone posts and then others repost the same thing over and over again on FB. It's so simple to check it out first before cluttering up my page with the nonsense. The amusement comes from wondering just who has the time to come up with these hoaxes, some rather elaborate, and why they do it when they stand to gain nothing at all from it.

Last night we got the munchies about 2am, no pot involved. Of course not a single bag of the five different types of chips in the pantry, the two packages of crackers with cheese, the banana bread I made, the cheesecake brownies I made, the two bags of candy or the ice cream in the freezer would do. I just had to have a Hot Mamma sausage, the boys just had to have cheese dip and of course we all needed a candy bar. I became the poster child for "The People of Walmart", I was not getting dressed to go nor was I going to trust either one of Satan's children to pick out my Hot Mamma, they always get the wrong one. So I went in my pj's, my knit boot house slippers with the little furry pom poms that hang off the back of the furry top and threw a purple coat over all of it and out I went. I thought we could quietly and quickly slip in and get our snacks and no one would even notice us. It might have worked had the Devil's Advocate not announced loudly as we were going in the door that "all these people look creepy".  Creepy, seriously?  So I replied back to him,  my voice rising with each word:  "Hello? Have you not looked at us? Do you really not see that we look like we live in the last trailer in Shady Lawns Mobile Home Park, the one they put in the back because it is too horrible to be seen from the main road, with the broken down pick up trucks in the yard, the kiddie swimming pool with the broken side and green water from three years ago still in it, the missing step going up to the weathered "porch", the broken porch light globe and the pit bull tied to the tongue hitch to keep our meth lab from being found?" By now the woman who does nothing but stand and wait for one of the self check out machines to fuck up, several other customers and the door greeter are looking at us. We amble on back to the chip aisle to get our dip and some idiot has placed a display of chips right around the corner which I promptly walk into and knock over because I was trying to untangle one of my fuzzy pom pom's(hey, if you wear the pom's they must be able to freely swing!) and not paying attention to where I was walking. More attention directed our way, it probably didn't help that we are all laughing hysterically at this point. I could just hear the conversation between the door greeter and the self check out lady: "Do you think they are alright?" "Nah, meth heads for sure, someone should turn that lady in for letting those kids get that fucked up" "Maybe, we should call the police?" "Why, they will just be gone before they get here and how are we going to describe them, two of them look just alike?" "Well, the lady can't be that hard to find with that green nail polish she has on" "Well I'm not calling because I'm pretty sure I saw some budding horns on those kids" "Well maybe they are deformed from the meth use" "Nah, they are evil, I can smell it coming off their bodies" "No, that's Axe body spray, all the kids wear it, it's one of our biggest sellers"

Aunt Cindy LooTu

One of my biggest fears came true yesterday, a visit from a certain family member from afar. First I want to go on record as saying this woman has no business leaving her little cottage near the edge of the woods let alone traveling anywhere past her mailbox at the end of her lane. She is a full blown Paranoid Schizophrenic with Anti Social Personality Disorder who  refuses hospitalization of even treatment. As for committing her the family members that would be responsible for taking care of that have the attitude "Well she hasn't physically harmed anyone yet....."  They are right but it's that "yet" part that doesn't give me a lot of comfort, the woman is bat shit crazy. So she is passing through and decides to drop in and visit me. Who the fuck is "just passing through" from England? This is a small account of our lovely visit.

I am sick again with bronchitis and doing everything in my power to keep it from turning into pneumonia again. A lot of bed/couch time and medicine. Hair and makeup have not been high on my priority list, it is questionable if my hair had even been brushed in three days, codiene combined with Klonopin will do that to you. My doorbell rings and there she stood. After I shit myself over the shock I realized that for the first time in my life, or probably anyone else's, she actually looked better than I did. I decided that kicking her down the stairs and running to hide under my bed might be construed by some as being rude so I let her in.

First thing she yells is that my house is on fire and we have to get out. It took me a minute to realize it was the fireplace so I turned it off. That satisfied her and she sat down to catch me up on her life since we last talked on the phone about three months ago. In the last three months:

She has been having a severe problem with some very wiley domesticated dogs that have been getting on the roof of her neighbors houses and walking around at night, but they know just when she calls the police and always manage to be gone by the time police arrive.

She had to make a police report for theft more thian once. The first time someone broke in her house in the middle of the night and stole her pink sponge hair rollers. The second time someone stole four shingles from the roof of her shed (the shingles fell off that shed many years ago and it was a hell of a lot more than four missing). The third time someone broke in and stole her favorite green tablecloth, you know the one with the pretty lace around the edges? The fourth time was a double hit and someone stole all her tupperware lids and rubberbands, but she has a suspect in that theft, she is certain it is her son-in-law.

Someone came into her house and forced her to let them shave her eyebrows.

While she was in the market someone moved her car to a different parking place several rows away and she was so upset with the police for not dusting for fingerprints when she called to report it. At this point I couldn't hold it in any longer and ask if the neighbors dogs could have done it out of revenge for her calling the police on them for walking on the rooftops every night? She agreed it was a possibility.

About this time Demon Seed walks down the hall and announces he is going to go play basketball (I learned a long time ago this is code for "go trolling for girls") and would be back in about 2 to 3 hours. Aunt Cindy LooTu has to hug, kiss and tell him how handsome he is and he is doing his best to politely squirm out of the wrestlers hold she has on him. He manages to break free and damn near runs out the door with me yelling at him "It rubs off on you, now your damned to live a mortal existence!" About 5 minutes later the Devil's Advocate walks in the front door and she looks at me and says "Oh my has it been 3 hours already?" God help me but I told her yes. She ask him if he had enjoyed his basketball game, he of course, had no idea what she was talking about and mumbled something unintelligible and went on to his room. She, of all people, then asks me if he was "ok in the head" because he seemed to have no memory of playing basketball. I don't think she realized the whole time she was here that they were not the same person.

I'm thinking things were going pretty good considering I had Sybil as my guest when she suddenly freaked out claiming the government was taking pictures of her. The culprit turned out to be my automatic air freshener that goes off every 15 minutes. She left in a hurry.

Where Is The Battery?

I just finished reading Monkey's latest post over at The Ranting Monkey, you need to check him out. Anyway, and I'm not going to tell you what his post is, you can go read it yourself, but right after reading it I realized what an "impact" it had on me. I was eating a Hot Mamma pickled sausage, didn't want to finish it and was trying to stuff it back in the plastic wrapper. Thanks Monkey for all the images that brought to my mind!!

Also Lily's son, Spawn has started a blog for all Dr. Who fans and those, such as me, that know nothing about him but am learning through Spawn. It's great reading and he knows his stuff. Go check him out at Last Of The Zolfa-Thurans

Phone call from Mom (who lives 700 miles away from me):

Mom: It's raining cats and dogs outside. Is it raining there too?
Me:    Yes, it's coming down hard here too and we are under flood warnings.
Mom: Look at the way it is coming down sideways.
Me:    Mom, I can't see how your rain is coming down sideways from here.
Mom: All you have to do is get up and look outside!
Me:    Mom, I live 700 miles away, just because it is raining sideways at your house doesn't mean it is here.
Mom: Well, just get up and look at it anyway, I bet it is.
I get up and go look look, no sideways rain here where I live.
Me:    No sideways rain it's coming down straight.
Mom: Well, that is strange ours is sideways.
What can I say?

Demon Seed wants to borrow $10, I don't have a ten only a twenty, I told him to bring me the change back and because he has no job and refused to sign a contract  I basically have no legal expectation of being paid back so taking him to court for the other $10 is not an option. So yesterday we were out and I wanted to stop for a fountain drink, I thought I was being slick by telling him to just buy them out of the $10 left over from the night before that he hadn't give me back yet. Today I open my email with a message from PayPal thanking me for using their credit card and giving me a receipt for the drinks. I ask about it and his excuse, which makes perfect since to him, was that he had used it to put gas in the car and since he put it in MY car then he technically gave me the money back. He doesn't get the part that even if he DID put it in my car I didn't ask him too and he was the one that used the car to run that gas out still leaving him owing me$10. He just looked at me as if I had two heads sprouting asparagus out of them and walked off.  We are now at a stand off with the car keys being held hostage, locked safely in my lock box, when that $10 shows up he can have them back. How much you want to bet he has that lock picked before today is over? But that's OK too, he can't get far without a battery in the car. Now that, he won't think to look for.

Blocking Out the Crankiness

I'm a little cranky today. I can't find one pack of potato chips in this whole damn place that I like and since snacks is my major food source that is enough to throw off my whole day.  My stapler is MIA and I am too lazy to go search for another one because that would only mean I would have to address the ton of paperwork on my desk. I have an entire 90 count of Trazadone "unaccounted for" so I need to ferret out the person that is accountable for the unaccounted for Trazadone. I also had 30 hydrocodone tablets "unaccounted for", that culprit was found immediately, I hate it when the pharmacy screws up, get it in your head, I don't trust you so I always do a count on any meds that come from you, and I would appreciate it if you would not ever give me that bullshit warehouse excuse again! I have managed to give out two doses of Phenobarbital, one dose of Synthroid, two doses of Atenolol and one allergy injection without causing any major bodily harm. I think I will sit back here at my desk, door closed and ignore the rest of the day. Instead of paperwork I am going to blog. Unfortunately the ton of paperwork from yesterday and the price of having to get new glasses again has fried my brain and I seem to only be able to reflect on the simplicity of life in the past. So I am going to take a trip down Memory Lane to cheer myself up.

Chatty Cathy

I feel it only fair to start with the biggest injustice of my life. Chatty Cathy. I must have been around 7 or 8 when she came out in her little blue dress with the white blouse under it, face covered in freckles and teeth. Those teeth had me fascinated, I had never seen a doll with teeth showing before. I didn't give a shit that she actually talked even though at times she got "stuck" and sounded like Satan which highly amused me, I just wanted her because of those teeth. I begged, I pleaded and still I didn't get a Chatty Cathy doll, my mother thought her endearing teeth made her look "creepy". Then it happened, one of my best friends and neighbor that I played with every day got my beloved Chatty Cathy for her birthday. But being the stingy child she was she wouldn't let anyone play with her toys. I was devastated. To this day I still haven't gotten that Chatty Cathy doll.

Rotary phones and party lines

Black rotary dialed phones with actual operators and party lines? You simply picked up your phone and an operator would say "Number Please" and you gave her the number you were calling. Funny I can still remember our number was 555J and my Aunt's was 886B, she then connected the lines for you at a switchboard. Along with this came party lines. It works like this 6-10 different households (neighbors, sometimes total strangers) share the same line, each has a phone in their own home, kind of like having an extension in your house today. Only one person at a time could use the phone, but any of the other 5 could pick up their phone in their homes and hear the conversation. If anyone else was using the phone, you were just shit out of luck until they hung up.  Obviously not a well thought out plan, do you realize how much fun a 10 yr old can have with a party line? We had one, a party line of 6. We had one old witch on ours, Mrs. Swayzee, who listened in on one everyone else's conversations, sometimes rudely butting in with a comment of her own. I loved it when my mother would lose her temper and let fly on Mrs. Swayzee. It also made her a target for us kids, we never bothered anyone else, ok I lied, we bothered everyone else on our party line. If we could catch a conversation it was heaven, bring out the belches, the farts, the high pitched squeals, taped music, banging pots and pans together, anything we could think of to disrupt their conversation. Luckily for us there was no way to trace back exactly which line the trouble makers were coming from. Then some idiot got smart and gave everyone their own line. I like to think we had a part in furthering technology.

Wringer washing machines and clothes drying on the line

Saturday was wash day, we had this set up until I was about 8 and then my mother moved into the future when my Dad bought her an automatic washer and dryer. She loved the washer but wasn't so sure about the dryer, she claimed it took the "fresh smell" out of the clothes. When she discovered she didn't have to iron the clothes that came out of the dryer she suddenly forgot about that all important "fresh smell" and never looked back. The way it worked was you filled the tub with water, some had to be filled by hand with buckets of water, we were high class and actually had a hose that connected to ours that filled it just like it does the automatic washers today. Can you believe we actually had a laundry room with this monstrosity in it? Anyway once you put the clothes and detergent in the tub agitated (ours by just pushing a button, others you had to hand crank). Repeat without detergent to rinse. Then each piece of clothing was run through the ringer at the top, you fed the clothes in like a pasta machine, twice, to wring out the excess water. Then your ready for the outside clothes line and wooden clothes pins and prayed for no rain. I use to think it was hilarious in the winter to watch her take the frozen clothes off the line, stiff and holding their shape as if someone just disintegrated inside them and try to stuff them in a clothes basket to bring them in. Today, I just thank God that I was too young to help with laundry and that my mother was the type that didn't think children should do household chores beyond carrying our plates to the sink after dinner.

Rolller Rinks

Roller skating was a big part of my pre-teen and teen years, I actually started around 10 yrs old. It was easy for me, my best friend's uncle owned the local skating rink so we had full use even if it was closed. We used all that practice time when it was closed and could skate like pro's by the time we were 12 yrs old. We did all the jumps, spins, etc. But the most important part of skating was the skates. My parent's paid a fortune for each pair of skates (if your just going around and around the rink any skate will do, but our kind of skating required special made skates) and I would wear a pair out in 6 months time. All our rollers, skate strings, bearings and toe stops were free because her uncle also sold them and just let us pick out what we wanted whenever we wanted. We had strings and wheels in every possible color. But that skate pom was a necessarry accessory. It ALWAYS had to match the wheels and strings and be decorated with something, now you could use a multi-colored skate pom as long as at least one color in it matched your wheels and strings. I had a drawer that held nothing but skate poms in all different colors and shapes.  I'm telling you we were skate connoisuer's of the skate world. Later on after my husband joined the military we found ourselves in North Dakota. I figured I was so good at roller skating that ice skating shouldn't be that different. First time on the ice my balance was fine and I was soon ice skating like I had done it for years, until it came time to stop.  I broke my nose, my arm and was bruised all over. No one remembered to tell me the "stopping" technique is entirely different. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your four year old try to teach you how to stop so you don't end up in the hospital again? I never did get that stopping down very well, unless there was a snow bank handy. Now I was a pro at skating straight into a snow bank to stop myself.

Safety

We never locked our doors when we sleep at night and our house had two sets of french doors, one slider, double front door, back door and the basement door. You didn't need to, you felt safe. Most of the time my parents didn't even close all the doors, the ones with screens were left open.

My parents drove a Mercedes and a Cadillac, the keys stayed in the ignition all the time and the top to the Mercedes was rarely put up(only on rainy, cold or snowy days), day or night. Someone stealing your car was not even a thought or concern. We had a garage but I honestly don't ever remember seeing a car parked in it.

We played outside until midnight, even at the age of 8 or 9 yrs while our parents played cards on the patio, or the neighbors sat on one or another's patio just to chat. We didn't stay in the yard, we ran and terrorized the entire neighborhood. There was no fear of kids being snatched and kidnapped. We went trick or treating alone and hit every house in town, we didn't have to worry about anyone putting razor blades or poison in our candy and a lot of our treats were homemade goods, those were the best ones. Back then a missing child simply meant he/she had decided to eat dinner at someone's house and forgot to call home and tell Mom or Dad.

Homes

I think formica tables were a requirement back then, my mother assures me they weren't but she has lied to me before when she covered up that the cat ate my hamster so I don't believe her since everyone I knew had one in their kitchen. Wood was fine for the dining room, but never the kitchen.

Most homes had only one bathroom, thank God my Dad had better sense and built our house with three, if he had not it would have been an ugly scene and I fear some of us would not be alive today. But that was rare, many families with 4 or 5 kids, or more had one bathroom to share.

Bread, milk, cottage cheese and butter were delivered to your door. I didn't realize someone brought them for years, to me it seemed like it was just magically there when you woke up in the morning. I still have the set of thermal glasses they delivered cottage cheese in once for a promotion, I stole them from my Mom a few years ago when she threatened to throw them away. I'm not really sure it could be considered a theft when she stood there and watched me gather them up then threw in a few Corning Ware baking dishes too.

The paper was delivered by boys on bicycles. I hated our paper boy and use to set traps so he would wreck in front of our house. But I did love watching my Dad chase our St. Bernard around the house, and it was a big house, to try and get the newspaper every night before the dog could shred it. My Dad use to come up with all these elaborate plans to beat the dog to the paper, they never worked and we rarely ever got a newspaper that was not shredded on the corners or had holes bitten out of the middle of some important article they wanted to read. This same dog ate a tire off of one of the cars, literally chewed the concrete steps off in big chunks (my Dad fought the concrete company for months over "bad concrete" until he actually saw the dog doing it), ate a corner off our house which was made of stone, drag the clothes off the clothes line (I suspect this might be another reason my Mom grew to love her automatic dryer), followed us to school every day and refused to leave, the school finally gave in when the weather got cold and just let him in the building where he spent his days wandering around visiting different classrooms and taking naps in the principles office, he would lay down in front of doors at home or lay in a bathtub and refuse to move (you just don't pick up a St. Bernard and move it out of the way) the only way to bribe him to move was to give him a half gallon of ice cream. We had a freezer in the basement that belonged to this dog, it was full of nothing but ice cream. We had to put him in the house when we were in the pool, he considered everyone that went in the water as someone he had to save and would jump in and drag the person trying to swim out of the water. No child under the age of 3 was getting away from him, he had his imaginary perimeter that he thought that child should be in and if it wandered out of his perimeter he would go grab it by the clothing and drag it back, my mother always said he was the best babysitter she ever had.

Riding the horses as a family, sometimes with friends that also owned horses. My parents raised Arabians, but we had other breeds as well and we loved to trail ride. Well everyone except my Mom's Appaloosa, who always, without fail would stop and take a nap during a trail ride. Riding through creeks, jumping fences...I so miss my horses.

The preparations for visiting family that lived out of town (all of an hour and a half drive). The kids had to have a blanket, a pillow, stop for food, stop to pee at least twice, pushing and shoving in the backseat because someone "touched" someone else. God, I drive further than that now just to go out to dinner but back then it was a big deal.

Every Saturday going to the grocery store for groceries and getting comic books and junk food. I always came home with 9 or 10 of them, took a bath, put on my baby doll pj's and then laid in front of the fan for hours reading, snacking and keeping cool. No one had air conditioners back then, it was the fan or nothing.

Remember

Beeman, Clove, Black Jack and Teaberry gum?

Candy cigarettes? Because smoking was "cool" back then.

Lucy and Ricky sleeping in twin beds?

Drive-In movie theaters?

RC Cola?

Bonanza every Sunday night?

When you got your first color television?

Transistor radios?

Those horrible metal lawn chairs that burned your ass if you didn't keep them in the shade?

Silly Putty?

Slinkies?

Jingle Jumpers?

When nylons came in two pieces? The guy that invented panty hose was a genius!

Making bracelets from gum wrappers or making daisy chains?

Mallow Cups? I still find these from time to time and buy a shit load of them at one time.

Girls using the small empty juice cans to roll their hair? Please tell me why!

Girls using brush rollers and sleeping in them for the 30 minutes of curl they provided the next day?

Getting inoculations and a TB test at school?

Settling down in the den floor with your brothers and sisters, cousins or best friend to watch scary movies?

Sammy Terry's Nightmare Theater and his pet spider?

Free gifts such as wash clothes, glasses or towels in boxes of laundry detergent?

Being forced to watch Watching  Bing Crosby's Christmas show on television every year?

Playing freeze tag or cigarette tag?

Swapping class rings with your boyfriend to show you were going steady?

Waiting on that sweetheart ring and then the pre-engagement ring? No one I knew ever made it all the way to the engagement ring phase. LOL

The phase girls went through wearing white lipstick and nail polish?

There was no home delivery from restaurants? How did I ever survive that one?

I will always regret that my children didn't get to experience the simpler, safer side of life and have the freedom I did as a child to just be a child.

Today, I really want to go back there!

The Week of But She's Pretty Child's Visit

I can't remember if I ever told you all about "Dexter" or not, Klonopin has a way of doing that for you, blocking out the unpleasant. So a quick refresher.

I went out on a date with this guy and I honestly can't remember his real name anymore because I started calling him Dexter in my mind about half way through the date when he ask me if I had ever had sex with an animal and then invited me to tour the water treatment plant with him. I am just wanting to go home at that point. I made it home alive, thinking I had been rude enough that Dexter would never darken my doorstep again. I was wrong. Over the next few days he called several times, always asking me out on "interesting" dates, a walk through the botanical gardens after dark, the gun range to practice shoot, a tour of the fish hatchery, etc. Naturally I turned him down. Freak is being nice in describing this guy. So I finally got rid of him and haven't heard from him for months. Yesterday he shows up with an early Christmas gift, just what every woman wants, a pocket knife. Now I will shoot a gun with you all day and I'm going to hit my target dead on but I am terrified of opening a pocket knife. Can you shank someone with a closed pocket knife? I always imagine doing it the wrong way and cutting off a finger and it would kind of take the fear away from the guy that breaks in your house if you have to ask him to open the knife for you. My friend jokingly suggested that Dexter now wants me to join him in his serial killer escapades, we long ago decided he has serial killer somewhere in his blood. Come on, what would you think if someone ask you to take a tour of the water treatment plant at midnight? So I have decided if he wants me to join him in his activities he is going to have to do a better job of promoting his career. He is going to have to show up with the handgun of my choice and there are rules attached. We start with my list first, not his. But then again do I really want to kill them or just come back to haunt them? I think haunting would be more fun.

But She's Pretty Child came in from Nashville for a week before Thanksgiving and we had all kinds of neatly laid out plans. None of which happened because we have neanderthals in our family who do not respect other's plans. She had worked 40 hrs in 3 days to get those extra days off, then work a 10 hr day and immediately drove 4 hrs to get here after work that day, she was exhausted. She wasn't even in town yet when Fantasy Barbie decided it was time for drama to start. Now, But She's Pretty Child didn't get here until 2:00am on Monday night. Fantasy Barbie calls about midnight and wants to have Thanksgiving early, like the next day, for her convenience. I refused, told her there was no time to prepare that fast and But She's Pretty Child needed to at least have one day of rest, she didn't like my answer and went into full Fantasy Barbie drama mode. We ignored her.

Our first day we had planned on just laying around in our pj's(she is truly my twin) being lazy and watching movies all day. At 9:00am the doorbell starts ringing and didn't stop until 11:00pm that night. I will give you that the girl is funny as hell, has the ability to do absolutely stupid things without even realizing it and she is beautiful. So Demon Seed and The Devil's Advocate decide to bring every friend they have ever met since kindergarten to meet her. As much as I told them she was not an animal on display at the zoo I was ignored. Although I did get her to do a some monkey calls and beat her chest in front of a few of them. I guess you can make very loud, screeching monkey calls while beating your chest as long as your beautiful, they didn't seem to mind a bit. Next we tried "trucker language" that didn't stop them either. Some just stared at her, she told one if he didn't stop staring she was going to charge him for it. The fool was dead serious when he ask her how much. Hell if I had known they were willing to pay I would have put her in the corner, threw a few Christmas decorations on her and charged them myself!

Second day we had plans to get our hair cut and colored by our favorite stylist, Baybay. He not only is the best around but amusing and rude as hell. Just like us, only he is gay and we aren't. I always dreamed of having a gay son that went to beauty school but it just wasn't in my cards to have one. We thought it would only take 3 or 4 hours. But we get in there and decide to have the works and both our hair colors are tri-levels so that takes a while, then being the only clients that day the entertainment level and bad language was flowing easily. We ended up staying 7 hrs just goofing off with Baybay. This of course set Fantasy Barbie off on another tangent. To appease her we drove up to visit her before leaving town to come back home. We stayed quite some time, everyone seemed happy and we left to come back to my house.  Before we get here we get an urgent text message from her husband to have But She's Pretty Child call him ASAP. Guess Fantasy Barbie wasn't done yet, after we left she tells her husband that But She's Pretty Child told her he was a dick, mean to the kids and controlling and that Fantasy Barbie should divorce him. Truth is But She's Pretty Child likes the husband more than her own sister and would never have said anything against him. He knew this but wanted to warn her that she was still on a rampage.

Third day is Thanksgiving. We get a text from Fantasy Barbie that she isn't coming. Since she was responsible for some of the food items that this family would literally fall in the floor and cry over if they were not served on a holiday we had to run to the grocery on Thanksgiving morning and buy all the stuff she wasn't coming to bring. Rush back home and cook it all on top of our own food we had to cook and be ready to serve dinner by 2:00pm. We made it with not a minute to spare. At around 2:05pm who walks through the door to have dinner? Yep, Fantasy Barbie. She finally figured out a way to eat and not have to do her share of the cooking. A "Come to Jesus" meeting after dinner between me, But She's Pretty Child and her did have her cleaning up the entire mess though. The whole time she is here she is friendly and talking to everyone. Then she leaves and on the way home told her husband that she had heard me and But She's Pretty Child talking about her when we went outside on the porch for a cigarette and that we had said a bunch of stuff that he had supposedly told us in private about her, that we were making fun of her (that might have been true, but hell we made fun of everyone here, even each other.  But what fun is it if you don't do it to her face? None of that was true, we didn't talk about anyone while out there, we were discussing my moving to Nashville as soon as possible. Which is probably what pissed her off and caused that round of drama. She lives close enough to visit me every day if she wanted but only comes to my house on Thanksgiving and Christmas and only then if I am cooking or have gifts to give her, she might call once every four or five months, if your not sick. If your sick she is afraid she might be ask to do something for you, yet she throws a fit every time I mention moving to Nashville.

On the fourth day I was a very bad girl, but enjoyed every fucking second of it and would do it all over again. My ex whom the kids have not seen or heard from in two or three years, no one can remember exactly when it was or what the occasion might have been. He decides to blow into town on fumes of alcohol, at least that is what Demon Seed swears that he must have converted his truck over to by now, Jack Daniels Whiskey. The kids refuse to go to his house so he decided to come to my house where they do come because I am apparently less offensive than he is and I am sober. Klonopin doesn't count. So he wants the ones that didn't escape in time to go out to dinner with him. Tells Demon Seed and The Devil's Advocate he has a surprise for them, tells But She's Pretty Child to make no plans on Saturday (her last full day here) because he has somewhere to take her, she quickly figured out it was a major ballgame that the boys would have loved to attend but he didn't get tickets for them too. Leaving no chewing out to chance she immediately calls her Grandma and tells what he is doing, so he then has to spend an hour getting his ass ripped from his mother. Right away But She's Pretty Child  is pissed and crying, then fighting with him because she stands up for Demon Seed and The Devil's Advocate, I actually think it hurts her more than it does them that he slights them in everything. So he breezes in here and gives each of them a $100 and she immediately hands hers to me and says loudly, very loudly "Hold on to this for me Mamma, because as soon as we get back from this God forsaken dinner I am taking the boys to town and spending my ill gained reward on them, so everyone needs to eat real fast before I really snap" Then it happened.  My opportunity to "save them". They go to get in his truck and someone he has locked his keys in it. The type of truck he has is almost impossible to break into let alone unlock a locked door. He tries for about 25 minutes in the 32 degree temps we had that night. We just watch him. Then he calls the cell phone service because he just knows he has Roadside Assistance, he was wrong (he didn't know I took that shit off of his months ago just waiting on a moment like this to happen) but after an hour they were willing to give him one courtesy lock out service for $79, hell did they not understand that would have cut down on his beer money at the ballgame the next day? We just watch him. He then calls his insurance company and after 40 minutes on hold is informed he opted out of Roadside Assistance when he got his insurance policy. We just watch him. Then he paces the parking lot, circles the truck many times running his hands through his hair in frustration for another 30 minutes. We just watch him but we are by now giggling into our mittens, we have a secret. He has been outside for 3 1/2 hours in those 32 degree temps by now. But She's Pretty Child announces it is now too late to go anywhere and eat and I "suddenly" remember that my car insurance covers me in any car, so if I locked my keys in his car they would be here in less than five minutes and get them out for free. I call them, told them they were my keys, they came, unlocked his door and got "my" keys out for me. The whole process took less than 10 minutes. We plead the fifth as to knowing just who locked how those keys got locked in there in the first place and to knowing in advance that my insurance would cover the lock out quickly and free of charge.

On the fifth day he gives the boys some lame excuse about he would have bought them tickets too but he couldn't watch the game and watch them at the same time. Excuse me? They are 6'3" tall and two months away from being 18yrs old,  and considering they are both sober not likely they need a drunk to watch out for them. Who watches them anymore anyway? I sure as hell don't. They did however get a good laugh out of the excuse. Unfortunately it only made But She's Pretty Child even madder, it didn't help any that within two minutes of the game starting one of his friends who had already had to much to drink vomited all down her left side, twice, even into her shoes, a large amount. She could buy a new shirt from a stand and some nice stranger gave her his hoodie but she was stuck with the coat, the jeans and the shoes.  She spent the rest of the game sitting with total strangers because she refused to acknowledge she was with him. I'm just glad I am not the one that had to ride back in the same truck with her. She doesn't hold back. They all swear they will never again suffer his presence.  I say they can all be bought but it will take considerably more than $100 each and a pizza next time. He better be willing to reach deep in those pockets.

On the sixth day we finally had fun the kids blew their money from him on turtle headphones, But She's Pretty Child bought them both a new coat with her money and we went out to eat on what everyone had left over. Then it was movie and snack night in our pj's. No drama, possibly because all of us turned off our cell phones and didn't turn them back on until the next morning.

On the seventh day, we only had half a day before it was time for But She's Pretty Child to head back to Nashville but we enjoyed it, made funny pictures of each other, you know acted like any other kindergarten children would act.

I can't wait to move to Nashville, it will be so nice to be around someone who is as crazy and devious as I am on a full time basis. Better yet she is engaged to a lawyer.....if the need ever arises that we would need his services.