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    times they are a ‘changing

    November 2, 2006

    “SSSSOOOOOO………What are you dressed as?  Yourself?  Or did you guys to decided to dress as EACH OTHER tonight?”

    What the hell was up with the 30 kids that showed up at our house with no costumes?  All the 12 and 13 year olds.  Had I known it was going to happen, I would have given out cans of Spam.  Or the Play-doh I was giving to the little kids.  We can only hope that where ever they are today, their teeth are rotting out. 

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    Why reading a celebrity news blog is a really bad idea before you go to bed

    October 19, 2006

    Because you may find yourself having a dream about having these people in your house and even though its a dream, you will feel obligated to be a polite and gracious host.  But then you will spend all your energy trying to wake yourself up so you can stop this nightmare, only to discover that you may have clicked on too many pictures because now you are back asleep but these people have never left your house.  They have just been patiently waiting until you go BACK to sleep to once again bore you with idle conversation.  This seems to go on for hours, with you waking up to stop the horror and going back to sleep and finding the bigger horror.  I hate you people for leading me down the path of a sleepless night.  Like pregnancy isn’t difficult enough.

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    Is it wrong to think that the buyer should beware of himself first????

    September 26, 2006

    A new twist on caveat emptor

    Today I got a phone call from my real estate agent.  She called to tell me that the buyers were doing their walk through and that she had just gotten a call from their real estate agent.  He was complaining that he couldn’t flush the toilet.

    The toilet that The Boy has flushed, oh, 900 times this past week.  I started to wonder if maybe the buyers thought they were getting another condo and maybe we should ask which unit they were, I don’t know, actually in. 

    But it was what came out of her mouth next that just brought a smile to my face.  She asked if we had a receipt for the work done on the thermostat.  The problem with the thermostat is that Cath and I got the brilliant idea years ago to get our neighbor Arthur to change it for us.  Arthur used to be in the heating and cooling business.  Arthur is also about 100 years old.  He put the new thermostat on and things went haywire.  We got him to take it back off and put the old one back on.  Afterwords, the thing never really worked right again.  The AC would kick on if you moved the temp higher rather than a lower temp.  It was Cath’s room and somehow she figured out how to make it work.  But it’s an electrical issue and very fair that the buyer’s would want to have it fixed. 

    When I suggested that we pay someone to fix it, Mr. FixIt/CheapAss said, “it’s only 3 wires, how hard can it be?”  There was some discussion about sparks and fire, but he managed to fix it.  That’s why I love him.  So we had no receipt because we did the work ourselves.

    Real Estate Agent:  Well, the real estate agent and the buyers are concerned because there is no way to verify the work was done.

    I paused. 

    It was a long pause.

    I let the sound of a forest full of crickets envelope me/warm me….

    And then, in a very pleasant voice, I suggested that she call the real estate agent back and tell him to, (and this is gonna blow your mind because it is so novel), turn the A/C on. 

    Apparently the opposing parties were very pleased with this suggestion.  No one had thought of this.  Except me.  I’m very frightened.  I am slightly concerned that we will get to closing and they will say something like, “we’re supposed to pay today?  I didn’t know we were supposed to pay.  Really?” 

    I really am going to have to thank them for that laugh today.  You can’t make this s#$% up.

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    Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (or Why I Should Never Have Entered A Fantasy Football League)

    September 18, 2006

    OMG, it was my husband’s brilliant idea to have a Fantasy Football League with my sisters and friends.  I thought that this might be a bad idea because I vaguely remembered my behavior from two years ago when D was in a league at the firm.  I read reams and reams of pages of scout reports, I was on the internet for hours a day, I watched more NFL that year than I have in my collective life.  And I drove him to a resounding 3rd out of 12th.  Behind every successful man is  an even more successful woman…  Last year, I had a baby and I didn’t care if every football player got arrested for DUI or for conducting drive by shootings. 

    But this year I succombed.  D sent out the email and we got 8 team members.  Little did I know that BOTH my sisters never even logged on.  This shocked me because thanks to automatic draft, they have the two best teams in the league.  When I called my baby the first night to discuss how she was kicking my ass, she confessed that she didn’t even know the website, her players, anything.  She then asked me for the family recipe for green bean supreme, which I refused to give her because I was mad.

    So for 2 hours last Sunday morning (well spent, I’m sure) I stressed over whether I should play Kurt Warner or Trent Green and my sister didn’t even KNOW there were football games happening.  Apparently my obsessive compulsive disorder payed off because Warner earned me a healthy 31 points and Green was carried off the field with a possible broken neck.  It was only a concussion (drama queen) so I’ll be back in my dilemma in 6 more days.  Kate managed to beat me by 2 points.  I hate her.

    I got a phone call from another sister, saying she was glad she had the next two weeks in between jobs to get into this because we had all better beware.  Something about once she figured out how to use the system, she was kicking everyone’s ass.

    B then called to tell me that I had created a monster.  She said that not 2 minutes before, she was screaming at a quarterback who was not on her team to throw the ball to one of the TWO wide receivers who WERE on her team and to stop throwing the damn ball to the RUNNINGBACK, who was on her opponent (my sister’s team) for heaven’s sake.

    B:  I swear to you, if Eli Manning doesn’t started giving the DAMN BALL to someone OTHER THAN TIKI BARBER, I’m going to go right down to Giants Stadium and kick his ass.

    This week has not been much better.  I was up against one sister and she called to cry that she had played the wrong quarterback.  Unfortunately she was calling when my quarterback had negative points.  Mercy was not high on my list. 

    Derek got his ass handed to him by Cath, who forgot to even log in and played a player that didn’t even get on the plane with the team to go to the game and she still beat him.  He has been moping around ever since.  I can’t stand the drama.  It’s a game, for heaven’s sake. 

    But maybe I’m saying that because I won this week.  IN YOUR FACE!!!!!

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    You are going to have to fight me for the last of the Bounty, sister…

    August 20, 2006

    On Friday I went over to my sister’s house after my doctor’s appointment to a) retrieve my son and b) see my mother while she was in town for Madeleine’s 8th birthday party last night.  Jen left to run some errands and Mom and I jumped up to clean up while she was gone.  A virtually futile effort considering there were like 5 kids in the house. 

    I went into the bathroom to survey the situation.  I find the bathroom is the easiest room in the house to clean and feel that instant gratification of a job well done. 

    Until I opened the door and got smacked in my supersensory senses by the smell of an elementary school boy’s bathroom.  We were all girls in our house growing up.  We gave my father his own bathroom and never knew what happened in there.

    OH MY GOD!!!!

    I ran back into the kitchen, holding my breath and wishing for Tums (even the banana ones). 

    K:  Carter is only 5 years old.  How can he make the bathroom smell so bad?  I have to give my son away.  Do you think they just do this (sticking out my pelvis and swaying side to side like I imagined boys peeing).  He is either going to have to pee outside or I don’t know what the other option is.  And I don’t even want to tell you what is on the toilet seat. 

    My mother then told a story about how my aunt would just NOT go to the bathroom because she couldn’t stand the smell.  That and she had to clean the bathroom every single day from top to bottom.   She had two boys.

    I grabbed the paper towels. 

    Mom:  HEY, I need them too.
    K:  Oh, no………you don’t.  Because unless you have a power washer, I’m using every single one of these bad boys.
    Mom:  Here’s the 409. 

    I went back in there a couple of hours after I cleaned it–right after Carter had made a trip in there.  It doesn’t take them long to undo all your good work, huh?

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    Because I have already mastered the art of shoveling crap,

    August 14, 2006

    I have decided that the carnival skill that would be most beneficial for me to learn now is knife throwing.  Think about it.  At any given moment, when faced with the right situation, one quick flick of the wrist and Derek’s boxers could be nailed to the wall.  Just his boxers, nothing else.  Although nailing The Boy’s shorts to the wall sound attractive every once in a while….

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