Tag Archives: funny

XXL panties my ass.

24 Aug

I am quite aware I have been absent from the blogging world and I do feel a tinge of guilt for not writing anything new or entertaining for my readers. But I am just having so much fun with my boys this past month that writing hasn’t really been a top priority. And, I’ve started homeschooling B for kindergarten which is much more time-consuming than one may think. Anywho, I do have a bit of something I would like to share.

Wal-Mart lies.

Let me explain.

Last weekend I went on a weekend camping trip with my T, B and my in-laws. We drove from Hamilton, ON to Erie, Pennsylvania. It was a gorgeous day. The weather was perfect, the drive was smooth, the company was even better. We got to the camp in the early evening, set up everything, started a fire, roasted marshmallows. It was camping at it’s finest!

Next day.

T and I made a kickass breakfast over the campfire. During the course of the morning I began to itch. I didn’t know why. I had recently bathed, I hadn’t been in the woods, I do not have crabs, but everything was itchy. I mean, hardcore. The plan for the day was to go into Erie and shop till we dropped, I was hoping the itching would cease and I could enjoy myself. The itching did not cease. I broke out in a rash wherever clothes touched my skin. I was miserable and becoming quite a nasty bitch because of it.

Thinking, thinking, thinking…

*Light bulb* The new laundry soap! I had bought an off-brand laundry soap to save a couple bucks. I must be allergic to it.
We went to Wal-Mart to get me something to wear for the rest of the camping trip. I found the clothes without a problem. Sweatpants, sweatshirt, t-shirt…the camping basics. I had to get underwear too as my undies were in danger of being torn to shreds from my nails clawing at them. Seriously, I had no shame people. I was scratching like a man without an audience.

Surveying the panty isle was depressing. I am a panty snob. I buy my underthings at Victoria’s Secret because every other brand makes my parts feel sad. But I had very little choice in the matter now. My parts would soon be getting stitches and ointment if I didn’t remedy the situation soon, so Wal-Mart panties it was. *somberballs*

I grabbed a couple Medium’s that somewhat appealed to my taste and went into the dressing room. They cut off my circulation, digging deep into my hips and thighs. Holy Balls Batman! Had I gained 50 pounds?

I checked the tags. Apparently a “Medium” is a size 4. Yeah frickin right balls….

I made my way back out to the racks, utterly annoyed. Muttering to myself criticisms about Wal-Mart and apologizing to Victoria’s Secret for my unintentional betrayal. I decided that having to wear Wal-Mart panties would suffice as my punishment for this indiscretion.
Thumbing through the hangers of panties I realized that in this scam of an establishment I am an XL. Seriously… *sigh*

Back to the dressing room.

They were too tight as well. This is so uncool, Wally-Balls.

One last attempt. I resolved to go commando the rest of the weekend if they were tight as well.

XXL…fit. You bitch.

Dear Wal-Mart,

Your panties made my parts feel the most sad they had ever felt. If my lady parts had tear ducts, my toes would have been wet all weekend from the disconsolate river of  tears flowing down my legs. Also, your sizing is a crock of balls. I detest you and your panties. Well done on making me feel ginormous and assaulting my self-esteem.

You Suck Balls,

Lacey

P.S. It was your cheap off-brand detergent that made me itchy in the first place. I hate you.

A protest in Utah against Wal-Mart

I stand with these women. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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And The Winner Is…

25 Jul

And the winner is, well, we’ll never know. In the blog world, unless you’re getting visitors in the millions, you apparently only get nominations for imaginary awards.

Cheers and many thanks go out today to two bloggers who have nominated me for two separate awards. That’s right, two. And I have crowned myself victorious because it’s my blog, and it’s an imaginary award, and balls.

The first award bestowed upon me comes from Kelly over at mytwicebakedpotato.com.

Her blog offers up advice based on experience raising a twice exceptional child. She does not claim to have all the answers but when reading her blog, you will in the least not feel alone in your struggles to parent a child with special needs. Go check her out and show some love. She’s doing as an awesome job as a mother and blogger!

These fake awards have rules. Imagine that?

1. Thank the person that nominated you and provide a link to their blog. (LOOK ABOVE. I DID IT!)

2. Tell 7 things that most people may not know about you.

* I am allergic to milk.
* Cats attack me for no reason.
* I would like to open a gourmet bistro catering to the masses who live with food allergies.
* I want to learn Gaelic because I think it would look cool on a resume but serve no real purpose.
* When I was young I wanted to be a gas attendant when I grew up. (I settled for coveralls)
* Given the proper amount of time, I can imitate most singers. I do a great Britney Spears, Taylor Swift, Norah Jones, and I am currently perfecting Adele!

3. Nominate 7 bloggers and let them know about the nomination.

When I nominated bloggers for the last award I received, only 4 bloggers replied to their nomination, and 1 did a post (I think). I believe most bloggers find these awards to be like chain letters and delete them like a forward from a friend in their email. Not that I care either way… since I have already deemed myself the winner. But beings I am the winner, I shall pass the imaginary torch to fellow bloggers who can choose to run with it, or throw it in the trash. Either way, I hope you check out the blogs I link. They are entertaining, inspiring, procrastination enabling and most of all… my favourites. That counts for something, yes?

* The 200 (Wonderful posts in 200 words or less, enjoy!)
* Shut Up Dad (Andrew is hilarious and can brighten any dreary day of mine.)
* Anxiety and Biscuits (Chris admires my usage of balls, he’s a shoo-in.)
* The Lift Blog (She’ll inspire you and make you think.)
* My Parents are Crazier than Yours (Yes they are)
* Clotilda Jamcracker (Weird name, cool blog. Good for gardening/thrifty information as well as giggles. Just found it today!)
* Expert of None (She’s Jill of all trades! She offers up a mixed bag of balls for everyone and everything.)

So there you have it! Thanks again Kelly @ mytwicebakedpotato.com!

On to my second win! Chris Biscuits over at Anxiety and Biscuits bestowed upon me the One Lovely Blog Award!

Chris read my blog and took a liking to my writing, and in particular, my usage of balls. I knew from the moment he created his own ball-word we were destined to be followers of one another! I urge you to check out his blog as it’s one of my favourites. He writes of his humourous struggle through the basics of life. I enjoy his interesting encounters with women, like this one HERE! Thank you Chris, I gladly accept the award nomination and crown myself winner!

Now for the rules. Yeah, they all seem to have rules.

1. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in your post. (Did it!)
2. Share seven possibly unknown things about yourself.

* I am terrible with math. Put a letter in an equation and I’m out.
* I have a girl crush on Felicia Day and Taylor Swift.
* I get wrapped up in classic novels. So much so that I find myself talking in Old English.
* I am a food critic. (Non-Professionally)
* I can not open my eyes under water without goggles or I’ll drown.
* I read the Twilight Books and have watched all the movies several times over even though they are terrible.
* I want to go ice fishing.

3. Nominate 5 bloggers you admire. (I totally already named a bunch up there. But lucky for you, I have more favourites!)

* Jake’s Blog
Joe’s Shitty Ideas
* My Life is a Romantic Comedy
* 29 to Life
* Crafting Glass

4. Contact the chosen bloggers to let them know and link back to them. (Yup, will do.)

So there you have it! Thank you to my fellow bloggers for the awards. Thank you to my friends, family, admirers, followers, and God.

Happy Wednesday Balls!

The “Senior Citizen” Card

24 Jul

Usage Guidelines: Use for discounts, excusing behaviour, and pension activation.

Expiration: Never. There is no going back.

Congratulations, you’re old! 65 is a special age and so many wonderful things come to you in this stage of life. For 1, this cool card.

My grandparents, Moose and Pops, use this card well. They take full advantage of the discounts wherever offered. And seriously, I am jealous. It’s wicked cheap to eat out, which is a good thing for them because my Gramma Moose could easily burn a house down.

Businesses even hold Senior Citizen Days and the oldies come out in droves to snatch up the good deals! Watch out for the tiny old women on these days, they are more aggressive than one may think.

I have two firsthand examples of this card being used.

A couple of years ago I was grocery shopping at a local store. I believe it was a day when the government issued their checks to the low-income elderly as the younger crowd was severely outnumbered 10-2. This didn’t bother me, I just remember thinking there were a lot of Senior Citizens out…perhaps there was a special sale? I did not know.

I went about doing some quick shopping. I was mostly there for sick food and Kleenex as it was cold season. I grabbed some cold medicine and headed down the aisle for the Kleenex. The nice stuff, 3-ply with aloe, was on special! There was one left on the shelf, I reached for it and then recoiled as my arm was whacked with a cane.

I turn to face the cane wielder and to give him/her a piece of my mind. There stands an elderly woman in her 80’s, no more than 4 feet 5 inches tall.

Her- “So sorry Deary. I was trying to reach for the Kleenex. Would you be so kind?” Her headed nodded strangely at me.

Me- “Oh that’s ok. I have a hard time reaching things too, glad I can help for once.” The old lady was so sweet sounding, I could not be mad at an accident. I grabbed the regular Kleenex that had been next to the one I took.

Her- “Well that won’t do deary. See, when you are as old as me your skin is like paper. And nowadays it seems I am always taken ill or mourning the loss of a friend. I need the one with aloe deary, for my frail skin.” She nods her head at me again.

I understand what she is getting at. She is nodding at my box of Kleenex in my basket. The last one of the good stuff, on sale. I take a few seconds to process this. I am quite sure she meant to whack me with the cane, and I am quite sure she is pulling out her Senior Citizen Card to get what she wants from me…

She begins to hold out her arms towards me, her hands shaking. She is waiting for me to come to my conclusion and gift her with the coveted Kleenex.
I hand her my box of Kleenex and grab the crappy stuff for myself. Well played old lady, well-played.

My second example:

Senior Citizens tend to have amazing gardens. It must be all their years of knowledge coupled with massive amount of free time. It also might have to do with them stealing water. If you live next to an elderly person with an immaculately kept garden, green and lush, in the middle of a summer drought… keep your eyes on him/her.

A couple of weeks ago I spied an elderly gentlemen on our block grabbing the hose of their neighbor, dragging it across their driveway and watering his own flower beds. Perhaps he had permission to do so, but I highly doubt as he was looking up and down the block frequently.

I am sure he had it all planned out if he was to get caught too. I bet it would consist of him referring to how his wife passed away or how weak he’s become since he’s lost all reasons to live except for keeping his garden green or how it was too hard for him to turn the knob on his own hose with his arthritis, or simply that he was confused and lost. It would probably end with the elderly man getting away with it, and somehow the younger couple feeling bad or guilty in some strange way.

These “Senior Citizen” Card toting people are master manipulators. WATCH OUT! For the sake of your water bill and other stuff.

old age at Rotchild BLVD

Here are some Senior Citizens discussing their master manipulator ways as they pretend to be sweet old people, taking a rest on a beautiful day. (Photo credit: shyb)

The “Irrational Fear” Card

9 Jul

Usage Guidelines: Use when confronted with an irrational fear. If you are unable to decipher an irrational fear from a rational fear, share your fear with a friend. Watch their face for tells as you share. If you see smiles, hear laughter, or the friend responds with, “Are you serious?”, those are all good indications that your fear is in fact, irrational. Grab your card, its in the deck waiting for you.

Expiration: When you finally confront your fear and squash it. Whether it be defeated by force, or through over-priced therapy, congrats! You’re a little less crazy.

I played this card last weekend.

T and I got it into our heads to remove two ugly juniper bushes in the front yard. These bushes reminded me of gnome hats. Not that I have anything against gnomes, I just don’t like bushes that resemble their hats.

The bushes were covered in spider webs. Apparently they were homes to an uncountable number of spiders and spider baby sacs. This fact did not discourage me from aiding in the removal process of these bushes.

I am not scared of spiders.

As T sawed off the branches, I gathered them and placed them in the lawn and garden bag. Soon there was just a tall stump.

I suggested we tie a rope around it and pull it out with the car. Apparently, that was “overkill”.

We began shoveling. The ground began to crawl.

What… Spiders? Ants?

Me: “HOLY BALLS THEY’RE EARWIGS!!!! No, no, no. Absolutely not! Retreat! Retreat!”

Earwig

Earwig (Photo credit: Mamboman1)

I ran from the excavation site making high-pitch squeals while slapping my shins and rubbing down any exposed skin. I felt them in my hair too and started batting at my head and shaking out my hair.

T just stood there in the earwig swarm, staring at my curiously.

After a bit more oblivious-to-the-world freaking out on my part….

T: Honey?

Me: Earwigs! (still rubbing my skin and now slightly winded from all the jumping about)

T: They won’t hurt you.

Me: I know.

T: Then what’s the problem?

Me: They have lots of legs, they are super fast, they are brown, they are shiny, THEY HAVE PINCERS!!!!

T: I don’t think they can harm you.

Me: That’s what everyone says. But when I was younger, one urinated on me and bit me! (T is still standing in the swarm and it’s making me grow more and more fearful/severely uncomfortable by the minute. They might be on him now, burrowing, planning their attack. He could unknowingly bring them into our house on his body!)

T: Umm, OK. I’ll manage without you.

Me: I’ll get the car ready.

T: That’s OK babe.

The earwigs continue to swarm but luckily T was not harmed while digging.

T broke out the ax to break a couple of roots free. As he swung down on the roots, earwigs took flight.

Me: “HOLY BALLS THEY CAN FLY!!!!”

The danger and creepiness increased by 40% and I confined myself to the porch until the stump was removed.

*Shudder* They can fly….

The good news is the ugly bushes are gone and I thoroughly researched earwigs whilst writing this card and I am 100% sure this irrational fear can be overcome.

I’m thinking of “exposure therapy”. Ill start with pictures, then videos, then the real deals out in my flower bed…. I’ll keep you all posted.

As far as I know I only have one other irrational fear.

Airport Layovers.

Hong Kong International Airport

I would need at least 4 hours for a layover in Hong Kong. The airport is HUGE! Who knows how much time I would need or what could go wrong!!! (Hong Kong International Airport: Photo credit: work the angles)

Layovers lasting 2 hours or more have 50% less fear factor but are still unnerving and bring me anxiety. Layovers under 1 hour in length are avoided at all costs. I would rather pay $200 more for a longer layover and delay my arrival by several hours, than have a short layover. The fear of layovers dissipates once I board my flight, but kicks in again during the descent to meet my connecting flight. Oh, my stomach is in knots just thinking about a short layover. I get extreme anxiety including sweats, heart palpitations, diarrhea and sometimes vomiting during the “anticipation phase” of airport layovers.

Weirdly enough, I love flying.

Can you see my Irrational Fear Card clearly enough?

Do you have an Irrational Fear? I’d love to read about! Share with me in the comments or email me at mylifeofcards@yahoo.com

Survivor: Female Prison Edition (More Pillow Talk)

3 Jul

Last nights pillow talk did not disappoint.

T: If I was convicted of a crime, would you wait for me?

Me: Depends on the crime and the length of sentence.

T: I got drunk and stole something from the convenience store. I’d get 30 days and probation.

Me: What a stupid crime. No I would not wait for you, on principal, I refuse to be married to a dumb criminal. Maybe if the crime was a bit more smart, and of course, non-violent.

T: Really? You would leave me?

Me: I can’t waste my time on stupidity, so yes.

T: Ok, what if it was something like murder or embezzlement, only I was truly innocent, and you knew it. But you’d have to wait 10 years?

Me: Hmmm… I don’t know. Maybe.

T: Maybe!?! Seriously?

Me: Geez don’t get all worked up. It’s only hypothetical.

T: I’d wait forever for you, Lace. (He really said this as sweet as you read it.) Or at least 10 years without question.

Me: That’s nice, hun.

(I think he was offended that I wouldn’t wait, but I don’t enjoy lying. Even hypothetical lies. They just don’t set well with me.)

Me: I think I could do hard time and fair pretty well.

T: Ya right. You’d be chewed up and spit out and be made someone’s bitch in no time flat. You’re too pretty and small.

Me: No, female prison would be cake. I’d approach it like an extended game of “Survivor”. I’d find a sexy, buff, well-feared butch to align myself with and manipulate all the others around me with my good looks and small stature. I would run the show in the end, my love. Because I am brilliant and cunning.

T: Seriously, Lace?

Me: Yes. People usually like me and lesbians love me, as you know. And honestly, it wouldn’t be difficult. So I’d have to wash my hands a lot, and probably need you to send me lotion. I would be fine. In fact, I’d be more than fine. Woman prison is far easier than man prison, ya know. I might even enjoy the sexual activity I’d have to dole out for my insured safety. Men on the other hand, well, they probably don’t enjoy the action because it hurts more and ….(he cuts me off)

T: Yes. I know why men dislike prison. But why would you have to wash your hands a lot? …. Oh, never mind.

Me: While out on bond, awaiting my sentencing, I’d get a couple of hardcore tattoos and some on my face for good measure. Just to look a bit more legit. Maybe I should just go all out with the tats and make my face look like a skull. I bet they would leave me alone then and I wouldn’t even have to play Survivor: Female Prison Edition.

T: Oh babe…

Me: And then when I get out, we’d need to book a couple of laser appointments.

T: Anything for you my love.

***The blog has been quiet because I’ve been soaking up time with my son. I have to say goodbye to his cute face tomorrow evening, and I am kind of a wreck about it. I was so excited to have this whole month to myself, but more and more I am realizing that it is his company that I treasure. No amount of peace and quiet could compare to the chaotic whirlwind of love and joy he brings about our home. It’s going to be a month of growth I fear…. Anyways, I did manage to compile a bunch of cards and will be writing and sharing them soon!***

Calling all Cards

23 Jun

Recently, plans have been made for my son to visit his dad and extended family in Texas. B will be gone for the whole month of July and I’m already starting to dream up ways to keep myself occupied. I am pretty sure I’ll love the solitude.

First, I plan to finish reading “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened” By Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess. A book I bought over 2 weeks ago and have barely cracked due to mothering obligations and exhaustion. Second, I plan to read the rest of the Game of Thrones series. Thirdly, this reading and relaxing will take place in a comfy lawn chair as I simultaneously tan, soaking up all those cancerous rays the East Coast has to offer me. Fourthly, I shall keep a cooler of alcoholic beverages beside me with plenty of little umbrellas to pop in them. In my head, I’ll be in Guam. Fifthly, I will most definitely be blogging it up! Why not right? There will be no little Thor to distract me with Wii Games. No cute little face begging me to walk to the park. No whimpering interruptions of hunger, this thing children always seem to want, I think it’s called lunch?

It’s just me fulfilling my own desires. I can almost feel the sun penetrating my epidermis. Just two more weeks until my vacation from motherhood commences and I find out which of my favorite characters die in their game of thrones.

 

In preparation of “Blogging it Up”, over the next 2 weeks while I await my maternal check-out, I am amassing Cards of Life in my draft folder. I have prepared 20 cards so far but I’d like to hear about your cards. All player’s have stock cards, like The “I’m Sorry” Card, or The “I’m in Love” Card, those cards we all have in common to some degree. I want fresh cards, different cards, cards that I’ve never encountered a use for yet. Help me build a better, well-rounded and more prepared hand.

Anything goes. They can be funny, faith-based, thoughtful, sad, challenging, raunchy. Whatever you have, I want. Seriously anything goes!

 

If you’d like to help me out, please leave the title of your cards and a brief description as a comment below. Although usually the title is enough for me to go on, so no pressure for the description. You can also email me your Cards of Life at mylifeofcards@yahoo.com and I will be sure to give credit where it is due when the card is made.

 

Thanks ahead of time to my followers, readers and players alike. I can’t wait to hear about your cards! Have a wonderful weekend and Game On!

Umbrellas Have A Purpose

21 Jun

Just a short post this morning as I am heading out to help a friend get organized for a move. There’s been a promise of Starbucks, so of course, I am there.
Last night in bed T and I were discussing our day and planning out our weekend. I made mention that I wish I had a Canadian driver’s license because it’s so hot, B and I dislike walking very far in this heat. But in order to cool down and have fun, we need to walk about a mile to the nearest plash-pad/park.

Me- Maybe we could call a cab for the ride there? And you could pick us up after work?

T- That’s kinda weird for just a mile. I can pick you up, but I don’t think a cab is necessary.

Me- Ya, I know. It’s just so humid it makes me sick walking in it. (using my whiny voice here)

(He offers no ideas. Time passes in silence.)

Me- I could always use an umbrella like those Asian people B pointed out the other day. (B thought them very strange walking with an umbrella in 100 degree weather)

T- So you’re going to use an umbrella?

Me- Yeah, I think that would help shade us while we walk. Like a parasol…

T- So you’re going to use an umbrella to shade yourself from the sunshine?

(T starts giggling. Yes, giggling.)

Me- What is so funny?

T- Well, in true Seattlite fashion, you never use an umbrella. You always have them around, but you just gingerly walk out into the rain, never complaining. It could be pouring and you just walk faster. Now you want to use one, but it’s to block out sun.

(Yes, I get it now)

Me- Well that’s because if I don’t shade myself from the sun, people will see me sparkle. I can’t risk people figuring out  what I truly am.

T- Twilight? Really?

Me- OK yes, it’s weird and I get the oxymoron found of my actions. Or maybe it’s just moronic….

T- Love you Lace.

Me- Love you, Night T.

(Time passes as we try to sleep)

Me- YES! Now I can finally use that umbrella that came with my purse! It matches the lining you know…

T- Glad you finally found a use for it….

Me- I know right?! It takes up so much space, but I knew some day it would come in handy.

T- You could have used it last time you were in Seattle, with all those rainy days.

Me- You just don’t get it T. You don’t get it.

Have a great Thursday everyone! I know I will. Starbucks is on the horizon.

Oh, I’d Smash Her Good!

19 Jun

I read a blog the other day that was talking about making dialogue flow when writing conversations between characters in a book. One of the suggestions was to go to a crowded place you don’t frequent and to listen to people’s conversations.

Well we went to a CFL game last week and let’s just say my anxiety was soaring. The sound was far too loud it put me on edge and there were tons of people. I was very uncomfortable. But I fought back and what helped me was remembering that blog, and the suggestion to listen to people. Although I didn’t need to practice writing dialogue, I did think that eavesdropping on people around me would be entertaining and a fun way to distract myself from the chaos. I totally invaded people’s privacy.

I started with the two teen boys sitting behind us. At first they were talking about their plans for the upcoming summer break and how glad they were to be done with classes soon along with teacher bashing. Then they drifted to girls they like. This was interesting. I was expecting to cringe, I was expecting dirty or crass content. But they surprised me.

One of the guys came out with a struggle he’s been having for a few months. “I really like her. She’s funny, smart and really sweet but she got fat this year. I mean, she has the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. I really like her, but you know how the guys would be…she’s fat now. I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask her out this summer and we can be active and hike and stuff….” He trailed off and his friend picked it up agreeing she was all those great things, but is in fact at least 20 pounds heavier than last year. They talk about her home life, and how she had to quit sports and maybe that all played a part of her weight gain.

It was nice to hear guys talk like this. They took it beyond surface and went deeper. It was nice to hear young men talk with feeling and be considerate of life circumstances, and not just judgmental, objectifying pigs.

And then, well, and then they went and ruined it.

The first guy- “Ya I think I will call her this summer. Maybe start flirting with her when no one is around, and then once school is out, I’ll make a move.”

Second dude- “Ya definitely. That could work. I mean, she does have a really pretty face. And if you can get her to work out with you, come next year at school she’d be frickin hot again.”

First guy- “Oh heck yes! I’d smash her good if she lost some weight. And since no one would really know but you this summer, I get some then too. Oh yeah, I’d smash that!”

Second guy- “Ya and since you’d be dating her while she was bigger, she’d give it up good…”

I tuned out. I was so disappointed. Way to crash and burn guys.

Furthermore, what in the world… Smash her? Seriously. You’d smash her good?  Who says “smash her”? Apparently the 5’8, 110 pound, 16 year old boy with the acne covered face and Darth Vader t-shirt behind me does.

I moved on to the young woman sitting beside me with her parents and a family friend, hoping for some better content. The young woman, around 28 or so, had just graduated law school with honours and was to be taking the bar exam next month.  She’s beautiful, successful and was wearing really cute shoes. Her voice was perfectly pitched with a slightly sexy rasp to it. She was slender, tall, with curly dirty blonde hair swept up into carefree cuteness. I stopped listening once I realized how utterly vapid she was…. (OK, or maybe I just got jealous. Maybe.)

Then I shifted my attention to the best pair ever. My hubby and son. They were the biggest aid in conquering my anxiety that night. And when I actually was able to watch the game, it turned out to be pretty cool.  GO TI-CATS!

…..Smash her? Seriously dude?

 

It’s amazing what you’ll hear when you take the time to listen. Or eavesdrop.

Our Kind of Pillow Talk

7 Jun

T and I have something special when it comes to communication. Our ability to converse spans over many subjects and nothing is off-limits. I find him to be the most stimulating conversationalist but for the sake of our marriage and happiness we avoid political debates, well, before bedtime at least.

Last night we watched an episode of House. At the end Wilson is getting a brain scan to determine if his tumor is operable. Of course there was a cliff hanger and we’ll find out tonight if Wilson is toast, but that ending stuck with me.

Subsequently, our pillow talk went a bit twisted. Instead of talking about the usual, like, current world issues, Dungeons and Dragons, T’s work, B’s future, our dreams and goals, how much I miss the energy drink Whoopass, what kind of superhero we would be…it drifted to Death with Dignity.

T and I have discussed our stance on Death with Dignity and although we both support that choice, we never took it deeper than that. Well, boy did we go deeper. Like 6 feet under.

I asked T if he would kill me if I was terminally ill, suffering immensely and unable to exercise Death with Dignity. Without hesitation, and kind of excitedly, he replied, “Oh yes!”

I have such a devoted husband.

It went further.

T-  “Heck, I’d decapitate you on the steps of Parliament!”

T- “Well I mean, if I wasn’t taking care of B. I wouldn’t risk going to prison if B was still in our care.”

Was that statement about B suppose to make this uneasy feeling dissipate?

Me- “Babe, that’s nice and all but I’d like to just OD on a lot of great pain killers. Ya know, without the bloody mess, TV crews and your imprisonment? Do you not remember what Death with Dignity is?”

He knew what it entailed. Apparently his willingness to decapitate me in public was supposed to prove to me the lengths he would go to ensure I suffered no longer. But it kind of  just creeped me out.

The conversation progressed after I turned out the lights.

T- “If you could choose a way to die, not by pills or decapitation (who chooses decapitation? Is that even on the table of chosen ways to die?) what would you choose?”

Me- “If I can’t have pills, I choose sudden impact.”

T- “So I would just wheel you off a cliff?”

Me- “What, wheel me?”

T- “Well, you’d free fall and just SMACK against the ground, dead. That’s a pretty good one hun.”

Me- “I wouldn’t need pushing, I’m not afraid to die. (Why does he want to be such an active part of my death?) What about jumping out of a plane together, except I don’t pull my parachute?”

T- “Well you could do that. I couldn’t go with you.” (T is afraid of heights)

I start laughing.

Me- “If you did want to kill yourself that way. I bet I would meet you upon landing and be pissed off that you pulled your parachute.”

This was funny. Probably because we were both tired and the conversation was morbid. But the idea of being upset that he was alive, saying goodbye to him “one last time” as we free-falled together and having to keep paying for jumps out of the plane, only for him to still be living at the end of it all…. It was just funny.

T- “I wonder if someone who was scared of heights had the choice to jump off a cliff or die a slow agonizing death, could commit suicide by jumping?”

We agreed T couldn’t and had another weird laugh about death.

Me- “So how would you want to go?”

T- “I’d like to go quickly.” (From previous conversations I knew his favorite form of capital punishment was death by firing squad, he reminded me though. And just so you know, I would prefer lethal injection. In case that knowledge is some time needed in the future.)

T- “A firing squad would be cool. Or a gun to the head, it’s all the same.”

Me- “Good to know hun, glad we discussed this. I’m getting tired…”

T- “We have the best bed time conversations, don’t we? I sure love you.”

Me- “Love you more.”

I gave him a kiss good night and something fell off his mustache, and onto my lip. It was salty, and small, and round. Yes, a booger.I had a mini freak out he just laughed. I got over it.

 

*I try to sleep. Several minutes pass and I just can’t help myself.*

Me- “Decapitate me on the steps of Parliament?!? I’m going to dream of you killing me.”

T- In his sweetest, nearly asleep voice, “Only because I love you so much.”

 

 

QUESTION PERIOD: What’s the strangest bedtime conversation topic you’ve enjoyed or endured? I’d love to hear about it!

 

Thor Doesn’t Need School

6 Jun

I went on a last-minute, surprise, whirlwind trip to California over the weekend and I am absolutely drained physically and emotionally. The trip was booked 12 hours before my flight left Buffalo and it enabled me to attend my little bro’s wedding. I experienced immense joy, mixed with tons of anxiety, which I’ll get to in my next post. For now, since I am too tired to write anything of true substance, I’m sharing a conversation I had with my 4 yr old son this morning. He keeps me on my toes.

Me: B, when Inspector Gadget is over it’s school time.
B: Do you know who I am? (Beau is wearing his Thor costume, and holding his hammer)
Me: You’re Thor.
B: Yes, and Gods don’t have school-time. They play the Wii.
Me: Well, young Gods need school so they can have a sharp mind as well as physical strength when they grow up and take on the life of a superhero!
B: Momma, Thor is already grown up. So that means I’m smart, strong and a superhero. (he pauses and then gives me a wry smile that a 4 yr old should not be capable of making)  And I’m a super powerful Demi-God.
Me: (totally impressed) 1 point B, 0 points me. OK, what game do you want to play?
B: Star Wars. It’s light saber time.
Me: Jedis need school.
B: Momma, I’m Thor. Remember?
Me: Just saying…
*I know he won this one. We’re going to ditch school today and play Wii. Any kid who can enter a battle of wits with someone 6 times his age and win, can ditch a day of school in my opinion.*