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    Where, oh where have my car keys gone? Oh, where, or where can they be?

    June 26, 2008

    The car keys are gone again. What moron has one key to a car? Oh, that would be the moron who is still living in her basement because she is too cheap to fix her air conditioner and doesn’t want to pay $300 for a car key.

    Miss America/The Cake Lady: Why don’t you get a key made? I’LL pay for a key to be made.
    K: Um, it costs $300.
    MA/TCL: Not if you get a regular key.
    K: But I can’t find anyone to make one for me. Other than the dealership.
    MA/TCL: Oh, WE can find someone who will do it. I can promise you that.

    I’ll just save us all time now and tell you where it was the last time I remember. Hopefully The Husband will read this on his way home from work on the train and won’t ask me. The Baby got his grimy little paws on the wallet/key combo just after I gave Josh all my money. As I watched The Baby attempt to take everything out of the wallet, I snatched it away from him. And then everything goes to gray.

    Let’s face it. Today is just like any other day. Any other day except that I needed to drop off Kimberly’s shirts to her at The Party Store Logan’s Costco. Even Sarah tried to help me find them. She tried to help me find them by cleaning my kitchen. Sarah is Miss America’s sister. Nothing. But now all my dishes are clean.

    I called Chocolate Fountain Fairy Godmother.

    CFFG: At least if it was The Baby, you only have to look close to the ground.
    K: Actually I just found a wine glass on the top shelf of the cabinet above the sink. I’m gonna have to say all bets are off here.

    Miss America offered to take me to the train station to pick up the truck. She actually offered to take me all the way to Costco. Kimberly offered to come get the shirts. Sheesh. We were on our way out the door when L.A. drove past. She slammed on her brakes and the window came down.

    LA: What are you girls doing?
    K: She’s gonna take me to the train station to pick up the truck because I can’t find the car keys.
    LA: Does that thing even have gas in it (pointing to the parked Volvo)?

    She was referencing the other day when my husband was supposed to take the car to the train station so I could spend $9 in gas to drop stuff off at recycling. He couldn’t take the car because it wouldn’t start. It wouldn’t start because it was out of gas. HEY!!! $3.89 a gallon will hit you in the ovaries. I don’t want to pay that. Which meant the car went down to below empty and wouldn’t start. I have the $1.89 a gallon gas my husband bought way back when for the lawn mower but I’ll be damned if I am going to put gas in the car if I can’t even find a damn key to start it. Know what I am saying?

    K: No. No, it doesn’t have gas in it.

    MA/TCL: You haven’t put gas in it yet?

    K: Why would I put gas in it?

    I have been through three trash cans and have done everything shy of turning him upside down and shaking to see if they fall off of some part of him.  I’m giving it 24 more hours, then I’m taking the car off of the insurance.  I mean, I can be saving all sorts of money around here.  And the only thing I’m losing is my sanity.

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    Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine and a robe

    May 11, 2008

    Oh.  My.  Gosh. 

    That’s all I should really say about last night’s Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine Event at the Winery at La Grange.  Or maybe I should start from the beginning…

    I called Melissa around 4:30 yesterday afternoon to see what the plan was.  Because if you don’t have a plan, checking for one 2 hours before a party is an excellent time to make one. 

    M:  I need to wash my hair.  And don’t be tweeting or telling the rest of the Internet that.
    K:  I wouldn’t do that (frantically tweeting it). You are fine.
    M:  You don’t know that.  I need to wash my hair.
    K:  I have a shirt for you.  We’ll just shop from our personal store in the back of my truck.  It’s not just a clean shirt, it’s a NEW shirt.

    The power of persuation, she is my super power.  Screw the hair, thirty minutes later we were on our way to drop off a chocolate fountain at someone’s wedding reception and then off to the party.  Except after we dropped it off,  she started bitching and moaning about her dirty head.  Which, people, did not look dirty to me. But I guess your head is your personal issue. I started bitching about needing coffee. 

    M:  Let’s just stop at Target and get a blow dryer. 
    K:  And we are gonna go where with that?  Are you gonna pick up a bottle of shampoo and then I’ll wash your hair in the sink at the vineyard?  “Hi, we are here for the party.  We’re just gonna go wash her hair and we’ll be RIGHT back?”

    My super power of persuasion?  Not as great as I thought it was.  Because we find ourselves in the parking lot of a shopping center.  Where there is a Hair Cuttery.

    K:  Dude.  It costs like $12 to get your hair cut at Hair Cuttery.  It has to be practically free to get your hair washed.

    The Chocolate Fountain Fairy Godmother went in to bum a clean head at HC and I went into Starbucks to get us drinks.  With her Starbucks card.  I ordered a Skinny Mocha Triple Latte for me and a Triple Latte for her.  Except I had never had a SML before and when I tasted it, it was vile.  I walked back to Hair Cuttery and handed her the Skinny Mocha.

    M:  What’s this?
    K:  You’re gonna love it. 

    It took her about 30 minutes to realize that I had ordered it for myself, reviled it and pawned it off on her.  All on her Starbuck’s card.  She realized this after she came out of Hair Cuttery with a clean, but slightly funky blow out and she had driven us 11 miles past the vineyard because we couldn’t agree on directions.  About two minutes later….

    K:  Thank God I got us triple shots.  It’s clear we are going to need them.

    There was what can only be described as a very.  pregnant.  pause.

    M:  WHAT???
    K:  What?
    M:  This is a triple shot?  Tell me this doesn’t have three shots. (pointing to her near empty coffee cup).
    K:  Hell, yeah, it does.
    M:  You didn’t get me three shots.
    K:  You need to stay awake?
    M:  I haven’t told you I have a heart arrhythmia? I wonder how my cardiologist will feel about coming to the ER tonight….

    Internet.  Am I the only person who thinks this information would have been helpful BEFORE I went into Starbuck’s? Because I am looking to have a good time and the ER does not fit into that equation. If I wanted to go to the ER, I would have just stayed home with the children for the evening.

    She was fine. Big fat baby. What’s a little heart racing? We showed up at the vineyard late but we were laughing so hard tears were streaming down our cheeks. Her friend Barb came to help us and she was the best sales person I have ever had.  And then Kimberly showed up, which meant the party had arrived.   Fellow DC Metro Mom Blogger Andrea came with her friends and I got to meet all sorts of new people (HI, ELIZABETH AND AMY!!). I drank wine, ate amazing food, scarfed down a pound of strawberries dipped in the chocolate fountain and there was an incident with a woman eating our “for sale” Mommy Needs Chocolate bars. CFFG wore the Cocktail girl robe around all night and there are rumors of pictures of her on the picnic table sporting the martini glass.

    I promise I shall never again forget my camera.  Or maybe some things are better left undocumented…

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    A little somethin’ somethin’ that will be showing up at Angelina Jolie’s house today

    April 2, 2008

    Angelina Jolie’s Hollywood Baby Shower GiftNicole Richie’s Baby Basket

    Do you have any idea how difficult it is to put 7 shirts into a gift basket/box so they are all visible?  The result?  You can’t read any of them.  The shirt under the tag?  Drinking for Two, of course.   

    In the drama of getting the baskets together for the Hollywood stars, I thought I was alone when I walked into the CFFG’s office. I heard the sound of Rush on the radio in the back room and walked around the corner to see a white-haired gentleman washing chocolate fountains in the industrial-sized sinks.

    K: Hello. You must be Sam, Melissa’s dad.
    S: Well, HELLO there.
    K: So nice to meet you.

    We chit-chatted for a while. And then, it came, as I can only describe it, out of the blue.

    S: Aren’t you a pretty thing?
    K: Why…..thank you?

    I felt the sudden urge to lean up and touch my hair. My hair that had been washed every other day for years, but probably hadn’t seen a brush since the late ’80s. I refrained.

    S: You married?

    Maybe I should have mentioned that Sam turned 80 this year. Maybe that information doesn’t matter. Who knows? I’ll just throw it out there for good measure.

    K: As a matter of fact, I am. And I have two small boys.
    S: Hm. Are you happily married?
    K: (laughing) As a matter of fact, I am VERY happily married.
    S: I was just wondering if you were interested in upgrading. But if you are happily married, then I guess that’s good for you.
    K: It is.
    S: How old are you?
    K: Well, I’m (mumbling).
    S: You are too old for me. But only by a year. I can give you…what is that thing the pope gives…compensation?
    K: (thinking, “If only the pope was giving compensation”) Dispensation?
    S: Dispensation. That’s right.
    K: But I heard you only like redheads.
    S: Eh. I can give you a dispensation for that too.

    Well, alrighty then.

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    Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine. Or Chocolate. Whatever.

    March 24, 2008

    Chocolate for parties

    Bad things happen when you hang out with the Chocolate Fountain Fairy Godmother (hereinafter referred to as the CFFG).  She has these hairbrained IDEAS and then you find yourself at the shop, making Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine chocolate bars and Mommy Needs Chocolate chocolate bars and Mommy Needs a Cocktail chocolate bars.  And did I mention the girl?  The martini girl?  She is TOO CUTE for words.  At a whopping 3 oz. of chocolate, you just want to lie down and die after eating her.  These little numbers.  Better.  It is too crazy.  Then you look at the clock and you realize you have 20 minutes to get home and it is gonna take you at least 25 minutes.  And her latest get-rich-quick-scheme?  I don’t even want to tell you.  I’ll tell you what.  If I end up on Oprah for that hairbrained scheme instead of the MNAC party scheme….I’ll be just fine with it. 

    But back to these chocolate bars.  You can buy them wherever you find Mommy Needs a Cocktail (looking at your house, SATGS!!! and hell, you people in Richmond at the Bizarre Bazaar the week after next).  AND…..if you have a MNAC party (or any variation thereof–for all you non-drinkers having the chocolate parties!!).  I know.  I KNOW!!!  Sky, you said to make Mama proud.  I can’t do any better than this….

    On a lighter note, my children are insane.  Remember when I said they were working together and using their collective powers for evil?  Oh, it’s getting worse.  The Baby’s skill level in walking is directly proportional to the amount of trouble the two of them get into these days.  Someone got the crazy idea to get the Cheerio’s down from the top of the cabinet in the dining room.  I don’t know why they were there, but needless to say, they are now all over the living room floor.  It seems that after The Boy took his handful, he graciously gave the rest of the COSTCO-SIZED bag to his brother.  His brother proceeded to take large handfuls out and put them in the seat of his highchair.  Apparently saving them for later.  Then he got bored with putting his hand in the bag (what with it being so exhausting) and he just began to shake the 50 oz. bag until the Cheerios got enough velocity going to fly out the top of the bag.  His father?  Thought it was brilliant.  While not his first (or second or even 10th choice), the dog appears somewhat grateful.  Sadly, I was on the couch watching the entire thing.  Yelling “NO SIR” with my outside voice but lacking the energy/conviction to, would it be “punish” him for his dastardly behavior?  All while he is laughing maniacally.  That one is smart.  Keep mom up all night and she’ll be too tired to rip that huge ass bag of Cheerios out of your hand while you send them cascading over furniture. 

    Oh, and Tony brought home some Jersey eclairs.  I have to roll to bed now.  Thank you very much. 

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