Monday, March 25, 2013

STFU, Parents

I found a new blog called STFU, Parents and I have been laughing all morning.  This is from the FAQ page on the blog:

What is STFU, Parents?

STFU, Parents is a submission-based blog that mocks parent overshare on social networking sites. It was created in March 2009 and is an entertainment destination for thousands of daily readers. Posts range from the ridiculous to the somewhat serious, and eating while reading is highly discouraged. You never know when you’re going to come across something like this. My apologies in advance.
If you’re new to the site, check out the End-of-Year Listicles here and here that feature some of each year’s best posts. To read about STFUP in the press, click here. Thanks for stopping by!

I just read this from the Language Butchery tab on the blog:

And I can't stop laughing.  Check them out.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Most Dangerous Gun

Kira: Dad, what do you think the most dangerous gun is made of?

Mitch: Cyanide

Kira: No I mean, what is the most dangerous gun?

Mitch:  I don't know.  An Uzi?

Kira:  I think it would be a gun that shoots gum.  You could shoot it into someone's mouth and they'd choke on it.

Sam:  What if someone right behind them gave them the Heimlich?

Kira:  Wouldn't work.  Gum is too sticky.

Sam: No it isn't!

Kira: Sure it is, watch.

(She then lodges her own gum in a position to block her own throat.  You know, to prove her stupid point.  Being that she's still alive and did not choke to death, Sam was proven to be right.)

Kira:  Oh, you're right, it slides right down.

Sam:  ..... Oh my god.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Kira in the Car

I've been making Kira listen to musicals in the car in the morning and she's had enough. Today she said, "Come on, Mom.  I need some 'Les Mis-less-ness'."

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Kira in the Car

"Mom, if I ever find myself homeless and sleeping outside, I'll just get arrested and then BOOM! not homeless anymore." 

She's got it all figured out.  Hey Sarah, you parenting dynamo; job well done!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Kira in the Car

"Dad, if you ate yourself would you be twice as big, or disappear?"

Friday, March 8, 2013

If Tim Gunn and Macgyver had a baby...

Mitch had a piece of plastic poking out under his shirt today so I pulled it and we got into an altercation.  Here is the dialogue:

Me:  What's this?
Mitch:  DON'T PULL ON IT!  It's my belt!
Me: It's not a belt, it's plastic, what is it?
Mitch:  It's made of zip ties, okay?  Stop pulling it!  I can't loosen it!
Me:  SHUT UP! You made a BELT from zip ties!!  WHY?
Mitch:  STOP PULLING ON IT!  Oh great now it's too tight...  I was at work and I needed a belt so I made one, okay?
Me:  But zip-ties?  Let me see it...
Mitch:  Hands off!  Now I have to cut it off!  Thanks a lot!
Me:  Oh my god, it really is a zip tie belt!
Mitch:  Where're the scissors... Jesus.  These zip ties aren't cheap, you know!  You ruined it!
Me:  But how were you going to get it off?
Mitch: CUT IT!  But I didn't need to cut it off yet!  I had it just right!
Me: ........
Mitch: .........
Me: ........
Mitch: You can't blog about this.
Me:  I can't NOT blog about this.

Bad news that at first I thought was good news. Common sense goes out the window when talking about public school.

I went to a staff meeting at school the other day and the principal told us that there will be 70 less 6th graders in next year's class than there is this year.  My optimistic brain immediately said, "Yes!  That means that there won't be 40 kids in a class next year!  Only 35!"  Then I heard the collective groan from the rest of the staff.  "What are you moaning about?"  I thought to myself, "This is good news!..... Isn't it?" 

No.  It isn't.  Especially for me because I'm at the rock bottom of the seniority list.  Classes will not be smaller, they will be the same size, and there will be less teachers.  So that means I will mostly likely be out of a job next year which stinks, but on the plus side: more time for blogging! I can get back into the groove of writing all about water stains that look like vaginas, my farrier-needing hoofs, and why pandas are such a monumental mistake

Lazy asshole

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Happy Birthday Mitch "Live Birth" Johnson!

My wonderful husband whose legal name is "Live Birth Johnson" is 42 today. (His parents didn't choose a name before he left the hospital so that's what his birth certificate says.)

Last year's birthday cake.  My decorating skills are nothing to write home about.

Although today is the actual day of his birth, he insists we celebrate and give him preferential treatment all month.  He says custom dictates that you can celebrate your birth month from your actual birthday until the end of the month, which works out good for him because his birthday is on the 3rd, but kind of stinks for the rest of the family: my birthday is the 29th, Sam's is the 30th and Kira's is the 31st of our respective birth months.  When we point out the unfairness of such a system he says, "Too bad for you."

Year 40 cake.  Didn't have enough room to write out
happy birthday.  The sexy Playboy Bunny took up
too much room.

In honor of his special day I am going to re-post my favorite post featuring Mitch.  It was originally called Seven Secrets to a Fabulous Marriage

Mitch says he doesn't like when I write about him on the blog, but I think we all know that's a big fat lie because who doesn't like to see their name in print, am I right?  We have been married for a loooong time, like almost half my life (assuming I'm 26), which surprises and amazes me because before him I was never with anyone longer than a year.  People just get on my nerves after a while, know what I mean?  Not that I didn't mean it when I said, "Til death do us part,"  I totally did, I just assumed one of us would kill the other by now (thank you for not killing me yet, Mitch).  Since I am obviously so incredibly good at being married, I'm going to give you some of the secrets to my amazing success which, in a phrase, is this:  set the bar low.

1.  On your honeymoon, if things start getting too romantic and spectacular, get diarrhea so badly that when you emerge from the bathroom in the teeny tiny cabin you're staying in, you find your new husband holding one of the clove-scented coasters you got for a wedding present against his face to keep himself from gagging.  If he stays with you, that's good, if he stays in the cabin with you, it's true love.

2.  When you are pregnant and miserable and he gets you flowers to try to brighten your day; because that is so out of character for him, and also because you are absolutely mental when you're pregnant, accuse him of stealing the flowers and then look in the checkbook register to see if he actually paid for them.  Don't expect flowers again after that for a long time, but it's worth it because it's important to set mental-health low points early on.

3.  Let your wife know you are the man of the house.  Let her know you are going to be there and provide for and protect her and the little ones.   Mark your territory and don't leave any doubt as to whose territory it is:

Just to be on the safe side, you better use your last name, or at least your last initial,
 in case the little woman is simple-minded.  
4.  In a successful marriage it is understood that as you grow older, you will change physically and probably lose a little of the initial hotness that got you together in the first place.  A good spouse knows that and accepts it.  A really good spouse will morph into a cartoon character to keep things "interesting."


5.  Teach your wife to appreciate things she never in a million years thought she would appreciate.  Say something like, "If I ever poop the bed, tonight will be the night," and then when you don't poop the bed, she will actually be happy!  And grateful!  And all you have to do is NOT poop in your bed!

6.  Laugh together.  When your adolescent boy comes out of his room wearing pants four inches too short because nobody has done laundry in a week and the boy grows out of clothes at an obnoxious rate; purely for the entertainment of your beloved, one of you should say, "Hey, nice pants!  Where's the flood?" which will make the other one laugh hysterically.  Who cares how the boy feels?  He's got to get used to people laughing at him if he's going to wear pants like that anyway.

7.  Support each other's interests.  If she gets obsessed with shoving live plants in jars with rocks until your whole house is full of terrariums and the moss patch in your yard is full of divots SO BE IT. If he gets carried away with installing poles so that your back yard looks like a forest full of leafless yellow-trunked trees, LEARN TO LOVE IT.

That sums up the glue that holds my marriage together.  What are your tips?