Friday, April 30, 2010

Happiest Birthday Ju

Sorry - I owe a million comments by now.  I have grand plans to catch up on Sunday!

Please forgive me for sneaking in this quick post to wish a

 

Very Happy Birthday to the best little sister!

 

From what I understand, she got her long-distance little butt over here and we are set for a day of girly fun!

(That is, if I can shake this stubborn flu… yeah, “Happy Birthday Sis, lemme give you a nice cough!”)

 

It is hard to believe three decades have passed since this little munchkin obliterated my only-child status.

She was one of those kids who was born smiling, always happy, and always working on mischief.

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She looked just like our very own life-size Kewpie doll.  I think she was 2 years old before she had enough hair to rock a mohawk.

She talked early.  She read early.  She skipped walking and learned to run early.

(Oh, and Mom… do we need to have a discussion about what happened with my bangs in that picture???)

~

Let me tell you: this girl is one of the most genuine and compassionate people you’ll meet.

She spent her childhood amidst all the craziness of my sudden deafness.  I lost my hearing when she was two-weeks old – she’s never known any different than to live with someone who has a disability.

Can you imagine?  Our games of hide-and-seek consisted of her immediately spotting me and telling me she could hear the sound of my breath.  Then me wandering the house looking for her as she yelled at the top of her lungs for ten minutes,

“I’m right here!  I’m in the closet!  You just walked past me!”

 

Oh trust me, my mother didn’t get a break.  Ever had to deal with this particular grievance?

“Moooooommmmmmm!  Rachel won’t look at me!  She turned her hearing aid off!  Make her listen!!!”

 

Ju was absolutely the missing piece to our family.  Her laugh is infectious and her sense of humor has never been tempered by the hard things she’s survived.

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You’re beautiful Ju – inside and out.

I want to be like you when I grow up.

Love you like crazy – happy birthday baby girl.

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Letters of Intent - Winning Souls

It’s Letters of Intent – brought to you by the oft-imitated, ne’er equaled Julie of Foursons fame.  Don’t be shy about linking up – didn’t your momma teach you that letter writing was important? :)

(Yes Mom, I’m sorry… I know you’re aghast that I abuse letter-writing so)

Foursons

 

Okay, now that I’m feeling guilty about someone stumbling upon this and thinking that I have something against a certain religion – let me just say that I have friends who are Jehovah’s Witness, Catholic, Baptist, Pentecostal, atheist, and everything in-between.  One of the fastest and dearest friends I ever made was a Mormon neighbor (yes Lisa, we still miss you and your family… move back soon okay?).

So this week’s letter is only directed at this PERSON, rather than the religion they represent.  Cuz whatever your religion, you gotta be nice to the deaf chick, right?

~

 

Dear Trespassing Lady (see, toldya I was being nice) ~

Yes, I realize that I looked terrible.

Terrible is probably an understatement.

I know my hair was in a ponytail, my face was sporting zero makeup, and I was dressed in a t-shirt and sweats.

Since this was my FIFTH day stuck in the house with the mother of all upper respiratory infections, you are lucky I had showered and was wearing a bra (you’re welcome).

I also realize that my son (who has supersonic hearing) raced to the door a few seconds before I could haul my aching cough syrup-drugged butt there too.

As you stood there in your mauve and teal floral glory and looked me up and down disapprovingly (taking note of the unkempt appearance, pajama wardrobe, severely bloodshot eyes), I’m sure you assumed I was some sort of alcoholic mommy whose soap operas you’d just interrupted.

But before I could say anything in defense of your obvious disgust, I was blown away by the words that came out of your mouth.

With the most unholy condescending look, you nearly knocked me over:

“I was just telling your son that he should NOT be opening the door for strangers… HMMMPF!”

 

Oh you dinnt.  Surely you dinnt.

Cuz lady, you do realize that you are on MY PROPERTY?

And you have just managed to insult me for somehow not beating a hyper cabin-fever-crazed 3-year old to the door when he had a good 2 second headstart in hearing you walk up the porch steps.

You do realize, as you listen to my cracked and hoarse voice that I have been dreadfully sick and living on Vicks and Sudafed and Nyquil and this might cause a chick to be less than tolerant of this type of intrusion?

While you appeared quite self-satisfied that you had sufficiently shamed me, your poor elderly co-missionary stood behind you and stared at the floor in embarrassment.

That wasn’t enough.  You couldn’t let it go.  I croaked, “I’m sorry, I’m sick” and reached for the door.

 

YOU STUCK YOUR HAND IN THE DOORWAY.

 

My eyes widened – did you even see?  I can tell you my 3-year old sure did… he climbed up my leg because he now knew you were playing with fire.

 

You leveled another stern look at me and repeated yourself.

Are you kidding me?  You had to drive on 2-1/2 acres of my property just to get to my porch.  And you’re going to chew me out for my son opening his own back door?

I was trying to be kind.  I said the only thing that my very exhausted and ticked off brain could think of.

“I’m DEAF.  I didn’t hear the door.  I was right behind him.”

 

Oh LORDY.

Let the show begin.

She doesn’t change her stern look at all, but orders me to WAIT.

Wait?  I’m gonna tell you again that I’m sick.  And you’re gonna leave me alone before I draw your attention to the in-law’s big dogs next door.

She says  v e r y    s l o w l y:  Waaaaait, Iiiiii  forrrrrrgggot.  Iiiiiii caaaaaannnnnt reeeeememmmmmmmbbberrrr.

And tries doing some gobbledigook sign language pantomime thing about losing her memory.

OH MY LORD.

 

I don’t have time for this, I don’t have patience.  And I’m sicker than heck.  And now she’s talking to me like I’m someone that doesn’t understand English.

 

Once more, “I’m sorry, I’m sick” and I go to close the door.

 

(take a guess)

 

Oh yes… she threw that hand in there again.

 

Cuz Lord Knows, her brand of religion is so appealing to me right now and she must, absolutely must not leave my residence without giving me some reading material to learn all about how I can become like her.

 

And this is the part where I very nearly just gave up and started laughing.  Because it didn’t make any sense at all and all I could think was, “I CAN NOT MAKE THIS STUFF UP”.

(And then I thought about y’all and just knew it was a blog post waiting to write itself).

She flips through her stack of 14 pounds of literature and finally settles on a W@tchtower magazine.  She flips through it (while I wait with flared nostrils and one eyebrow dangerously arched).

My shoulder is aching because Itty Bit is holding on like a terrified monkey.

She finally settles on the back.  She flips it over toward me and points to the picture.  It’s an asian family with a rainbow in the background.

rainbow (Google)

She taps it in great satisfaction and slowly overenunciates:

Sommmmme daaaaay (tap tap), yooooooou willlllll heeeeeearrrrr agaaaaaaaain.

Some day you will hear again?!?!  What on EARTH does that have to do with the rainbow asaians?

 

I cover my dumfounded guffaw in a choking fit and gasp “Thank You” as I firmly close the door.

I put the little monkey down and bend to his eye level.

 

Honey, those are BAD people.  That was a MEAN lady.  We don’t let them in the house.  Never.

 

Am I a horrible person for wondering if that parting cough was contagious?

 

Signed,

The Woman Who Will Introduce You Ladies To the B*oob-Snacking Horse Next Time

 

p.s. You are insanely lucky Mr. Daddy didn’t greet you at the door in his tighty-whities and yell, “Do you want to party?!?!”

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Thank You Very Much - Snot Edition

Aaaah, free therapy time.  Everybody get in a circle now and get ready to link up your grievances with Kmama :)

 

To this neverending round of sickness – would you please evacuate my household at the nearest exit?

I have a life to live that presumably includes clothing other than pajamas and drinks other than Nyquil, Thank You Very Much!

sick

~

To the kiddo who has been thoroughly unaccommodating to my weakened state - for your typical hyper antics, Thank You Very Much.

~

To the Jehovah’s Witnesses that have stopped by TWICE since I’ve been housebound – God’ll get ya, Thank You Very Much.

And I have a letter just for you tomorrow – cuz you have no idea how lucky you were to make it safely off my porch, Thank You Very Much.

~

To the (healthy) husband who stole this sick wife’s chicken soup in broad daylight, Thank You Very Much.

Yes, I realize your mother made it.  Yes, I know it is absolutely delicious.  But duuuuuuude!

~

To the same duuuuuude – Thank You Very Much for reminding me why you need me :)

IMG_7037~

Now if y’all will excuse me, this coughing chick is heading to bed, Thank You Very Much :)

Caption This

Thank you Big Mama Cass for giving us an easy –peasy post idea!  Instead of a Wordless Wednesday post (cuz y’all know I can’t do wordless to save my sorry behind), use the same picture and let your friends have fun captioning it!

Big Caption This Button

Yes, I am shamelessly joining in and encouraging y’all.  Cuz if anyone is counting, this is my FIFTH sick day at home and this upper respiratory stuff is kicking my butt.

So what’s the caption here?  And yes I know, I’m already cheating by using a series of pictures instead of just one… so tell me what the story is here?

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Can’t wait to see what y’all come up with.  Then hop on over to Big Mama Cass’ place and add your own!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

I Heart Faces - Smile

I’ve been missing IHeartFaces – it’s just been one really awful season of the entire family taking turns being sick… which doesn’t lend for great photo ops (especially when the chick behind the lens is sick!).  But in the middle of being kicked around by the flu, we still haven’t forgotten how to smile.  And that is why I love my family so much.

Here’s Mr. Daddy:

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This shot is completely unedited.  And completely honest.  And unfailingly genuine.  Which, you know, pretty darn perfectly describes that man of mine: unedited, honest, and genuine.

Gotta love the weekend stubble on his chin and woodshavings on his shoulder.Anyone else notice that sparkle in his eye?  That one that Laura Ingalls Wilder always referred to as the twinkle in her Pa’s eye?  This man can grin with the best of ‘em and you always know he’s up to something.

I’m loving all the other smiles this week at IHeartFaces!

Monday, April 26, 2010

True Story Tuesday - The Clean Plate Club

Hey y'all - ready for some True Story Tuesday?!
 



Time to link up your hilarious/amazing/outrageous/miraculous and TRUE story and share the comment love!  Everyone's got one of these family legends that keeps getting retold (or rather, just won't die!) - just grab the code underneath the True Story Tuesday button on the right sidebar, add it to your post, then come back and link up for the best kind of storytelling - the true kind!

~

This week brought to you by the one-and-only Mr. Daddy... the man who is now realizing that those things you did to your parents, come back to haunt you :)



The Clean Plate Club


While reading Julie's Letter Of Intent last Friday, what she said about eating everything on your plate, and all the comments that followed sparked an ancient memory.

What she said about the Clean Plate Club, which we will refer to as the CPC for the rest of this story, is not how I remember it from my youth.

Now we must remember that my youth was a couple of decades ago. Wellllllllllll maybe a few more than a couple, but not many.

(Rach In: Honey, you are just TEMPTING PamD now, aren't ya?)

Now my parents being old school, as in being raised in the era of the Great Depression, had cause to be a fan of the CPC. In fact, the stories that they tell it is pretty much a given that you were just plain old thankful to have anything on your plate at all at times....

The purpose of my saying this is not to debate any theological, or social, or moral issues about whether or not you should or should not make your child eat all on their plate or not.

(Rach In: Haha, that was just to try to avoid the wrath of Julie...)

I am not qualified to say that if you make them eat everything they will be obese. Or if you let them leave whatever they want to they will be unthankful...

It is just plain fact that when I was growing up, if it was put on your plate, you ate it... Now in their defense it was always nutritional and balanced meals, with all the food groups represented in tasty and appealing ways (think Leave it to Beaver here and you will get the picture).

(Rach in: Sorry, I am having fits of giggles about that Leave It To Beaver thing... his mom IRONS their jeans, and uses bleach in the carwash soap. I am such an unfit housekeeper next to this family :)

The proportions were never huge unless we wanted more, and God help us if our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. Cause if you didn't finish it for dinner it would probably be served cold for breakfast....

Don't judge them, they are the best parents that I could of ever asked for. They raised three of their own and a hatful of other people's children to adulthood, and for the most part we are all pretty much normal.... normal (twitch) normal (twitch) normal (twitch, twitch)

Another thing I remember was you didn't talk back or sass, and you ALWAYS respected your elders, always....
R.E.S.P.E.C.T. was ALWAYS enforced.



Well we were having oysters for dinner, fried. Now I know that you can have them on the half shell, you can have them sauteed, you can have them grilled, or in soup... My Dad liked them fried. Dip them in flour and seasoning salt and fry them puppies to a golden brown and they are just nummy, now....Back then....Not so much...

If you are to get adventursome and cut them open (like I did back then) you will even find a little nugget of green seaweed like stuff in the middle that will just gross you out.

Just saying......

So there I was bout an hour and a half past the time every one else had been excused from the table. Pushing my little peices of oyster around on my plate, and eyeing that little green morsel of goop that was lurking on the edge of my plate...

(Rach In: OhMyLord, every one of us has been there, right?)

Now I'm guessing that my Dad had had just about enough of my postponing the inevitable.... And was going to assert his parental legislative authority, with full enforcement rights. And as the child protective services was just a gleam in some politicians mind.. I am thinking with no restraints....



So the conversation was probably something like this...

YOU WILL EAT THAT RIGHT NOW...

but dad it doesn't taste good.

YES IT DOES, IT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES.

but dad it is cold.

AND WHO'S FAULT IS THAT???

but da---

EAT IT RIGHT NOW AND THAT IS FINAL...

Now I know that I am pushing the envelope here. My Dad is one of the nicest people I know now.
Back then a very strict disiplinarian...

dad it's gross

IF I TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME I WILL BLISTER YOUR BUTT AND YOU WILL HAVE IT FOR BREAKFAST.

I was pushed past the limits of my 6-year old restraint. Throwing caution to the wind and daring the wrath of my Father. I sat up straight, crossed my arms and with the most petulant bravado that I could muster, I firmly stated...

IF YOU LIKE POOP, YOU EAT IT.

staring straight ahead I awaited the full fury of my Dad....

Nothing....

I waited some more......

still nothing....

I dared a sideways peek,

no movement at all, just a ramrod stiff stance with a far away look on his face.

another peek.

just a slight twitching of his jaw...

"O" lord I was in for it now.

A little longer glance, A twitch with a slight upturning at the corner of his mouth...

I was outright gawking at him now; and to my amazement he was snickering, which quickly turned to a belly laugh...

And that my friends, is the only time in my youth that I can recall dodging the CPC.

~

(Rach In:  Aaaaand the irony: we have a 3-year old who would eat nothing but strawberries and peanut butter all day every day if we let him.  No oyster poop for this kid).

~

Y'all know the drill - link up and we'll be by with some comments!

Sunday, April 25, 2010

SOOC - Pajama Edition

The flu has made its unwelcome rounds, and blogging has taken an unfortunate second

to feverish rounds of Dayquil and Nyquil.

 

A little boy has cabin fever.

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And has resorted to creative furniture rearrangement in the pursuit of comfort

(whilst viewing Tom & Jerry’s Greatest Chases for the eleventieth time)

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Get Well bouquet

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Wishing you health and beautiful moments with family this weekend.

 

Thank you Melody, for hosting SOOC

SOOC button

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

I'm a dork

Like a bad bloggy friend dork.

I got overwhelmed with my email box and forgot who tagged me in this great little “10 Thing That Make Me Smile” list.

I confess that last weekend had some hardcore effort devoted to lowering my email count from 1700+ messages to 1000+ messages.  I am now only slightly drowning.  There’s a difference, right?

Anyway… effusive apologies to whomever tagged me in this darling endeavor and please, please – call me out in the comments if it was you!

Hey now… TEN THINGS THAT MAKE ME SMILE:

So my parents picked up this terrific little reference book for me for Christmas:

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God makes me smile.  Someday I hope to share the miracles He’s done in my life – wait til you hear!

~

My family makes me smile!

IMG_9846 (Biceps make me smile too… but that’s getting a little off track.)

Smiling?  Especially this picture of my mom totally kicking Mr. Daddy’s butt at tetherball.

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I’m only laughing because she totally kicked my butt 10 minutes earlier…

~

My Kona girl makes me smile!

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Watch the attitude girlie!

~

My favorite bowl makes me smile.  Something about this green cheers me up.

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Nevermind the two expired avocados that I just found in there *ahem*

~

Okay, I’m gonna try not to fill up my Top Ten with food items… but this stuff has kept me alive the past few weeks:

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Yes, I realize that NINE boxes of Tangerine Orange Zinger tea may seem a bit obsessive to you.  But I could not find this stuff anywhere!  I finally ventured to Target and absconded with every single one on the shelf.  I figured they owed me for the bloody Dollar Section debacle.  Kidding, kidding.  I paid for ‘em.

If you have a sore throat, this stuff won’t make you nauseous like those zinc logenzes will.  Good stuff!

~

OhMyLord – if you haven’t tried this yet, you need to!

Head out to Target, again - avoid the deadly Dollar Section, and get yourself some of this laundry detergent!

Why am I waxing poetic over suds? (And Target, feel free to contact me for a giveaway or paid review! :)  It’s because this stuff ROCKS!  Remember my busted wrist?  You get FIFTY loads out of this puppy, and you just pick it up like it’s a bottle of hand soap.

Seriously… and you PUMP instead of that messy POUR… I’m in love!

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~

And something that makes me smile because my kitchen doesn’t smell like garlic bread after dinner:

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Okay, so maybe I like it because it makes the house smell like I can bake.  Let me have my denial, k?

~

I totally smiled while I set up these bottles of cologne in front of a very confused Itty Bit.

Cuz Mr. Daddy (self-proclaimed Redneck Supreme) has more smelly stuff than his Citified wife.

Yes kids, let’s count them… THIRTEEN bottles of the stuff.  Yum!

(I refused to photograph the bottle of elk pee… that doesn’t qualify as attracting HUMAN females)

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Is this why the chicks at Starbucks are always hitting on him?

~

These boys make me smile: Itty Bit and Cutie Left, who were so engrossed in the 3-D roller coaster ride, that they didn’t realize Mr. Daddy was stacking cups on their little heads:

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~

Okay, I tried hard to keep this from being about all things edible.  And I can’t believe I’m admitting that I again CLEARED A SHELF at a store with a mild obsession.  But if you’ve ever tried these, you’ll understand why they make me smile (and clear shelves):

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Not to be confused with the regular Gardetto’s – which you can find everywhere.  These little Mustard Pretzel delights are wickedly hard to locate.  If you find some, email me.

Seriously.

~

I know I’m cheating… but my bloggy friends make me smile every.single.day.  I love the silly and supportive comments – it’s like getting hugs every day.

And how can I look at this picture and not smile?

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~

And what makes you smile today?

Monday, April 19, 2010

True Story Tuesday - Casting Call

Already Tuesday?!!  That means at least two good things:  it’s not Monday anymore, and it’s TRUE STORY TUESDAY time!

 

Y’all know the rules… write your hilarious, amazing, outrageous, miraculous and (mostly) true story and link it up here for some comment love!  Heck, you’ve probably already written about that crazy family legend that gets retold around the dinner table every reunion, right?  So grab the code under the TST button on the right sidebar, throw it into your post, and come back to add your post link.  (Please be sure to click your actual post title, then copy and paste the link to the post itself… we’ll lose you if it’s just your regular blog address :)

~

This week brought to you by the woman who manages to injure herself in inventive ways each week, purely for your entertainment, of course!

CASTING CALL

What can I say?  I’m a klutz.

I once got so many injuries in a short span of time, that the cute guy at the Emergency Room looked this 7-year old in the eye (as he stitched my head), and said,

“You know, you can just come by and say hi… you don’t have to hurt yourself…”

It started young.  Really young.

At 18-months, I displayed my incredible talent for incurring the most disparate injury for the tiniest fall.  I broke my wrist while attempting the one step step in front of the house.

(applause)

As my great-grandmother liked to tell it, I was a tiny little thing, but I wasn’t dumb.

casting call

At the Emergency Room, they got me all doctored up and good as new.

Until a nurse stopped my mother upon our checkout and inquired:

“Oh, did she break the other one too?”

 

I know what y’all are thinking.

Nooooo… I’m not talented enough to break both wrists in one trip.

But I am smart enough to give ‘em the one that doesn’t hurt when they ask me to show them my arm.

 

That’s right folks.  Thankfully they hadn’t cut me open and left a cell phone in me or something… but they had managed to cast the wrong arm.

Out comes the pizza cutter, out comes the gauze, out comes the fresh plaster.

And let me tell ya, it ain’t no fun to spend six weeks gazing longingly at the kiddie pool…

 

(I broke my wrists twice more, is it any wonder my  mother enrolled me in ballet? ;)

~

Come on, you know those dorky injuries make for great stories!  As another sage ER doc once said,

“Scars are just tattoos with better stories.”

What’s your story?  Join up and we’ll be around with some comment love!

~

Saturday, April 17, 2010

SOOC - Outdoors

Melody from Slurping Life has a beautiful post up today.  Please go see her for more Straight Out Of the Camera images: Slurping Life

Rather than duke it out for who has posting privileges today, this week has a shot from each of us.

Mr. Daddy’s Choice
How soon they spread their wings to fly.
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~

Rachel’s Choice
Nothing deep here… just a love for true red.  And the memories of a well-used trike.
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Friday, April 16, 2010

Letters of Intent - To the Ineffable Mr. Daddy

Loving me a good old Friday - and a chance to write some Letters of Intent. Thanks Julie for the shout out - head on over for some more!
Foursons

 

Dear Mr. Daddy ~

Please explain again why you have spent the last 20 minutes replacing batteries in the GeoTrax trains when you will spend the next 48 hours complaining about the incessant and insanely obnoxious *chugga chugga*?

 

Love,

Your Deaf Wife Who Doesn’t Get It

 

~

 

Dear Mr. Daddy ~

Thanks for letting the Triaminic-drugged 3-year old sleep in the “big bed” for naptime yesterday.

He slept so soundly, he peed through our bedding.

A bit poetic that he was on your side, no?

 

Love,

The Mom Who Would Be Laughing If She Didn’t Have To Do the Laundry

 

~

 

Dear Mr. Daddy ~

Man up.

You need to go to the dentist.

 

Love,

Your Had-A-Baby-Without-An-Epidural Wife

 

~

 

Dear Mr. Daddy ~

I am totally sticking by you through the bit of bloggy trouble you stirred up with your comment over at Julie’s (WifeMomNurse).  I’m sorry someone didn't “get” your sense of humor.

I’m glad Brian (FireHubby) chimed in on his blog to back up his wife too.  No one should be ridiculed for being concerned about their children’s safety.  And the Mommy instinct should never be minimized simply because someone else isn’t experiencing the same thing.

And for the record – I am glad to know that you will do what it takes to defend your family on your property.

 

Love,

City Girl (who loves canines)

 

~

 

Dear Mr. Daddy ~

Thank you for the continued hilarity you are finding in THAT post.

You triggered that very unladylike snort when you looked at me with that poker face and said with all seriousness:

“There’s a shortage of perfect bre@sts in the world, it would be a shame to waste yours”.

(Fifty onceuponamiracle points if you tell me which movie that came from! :)

I know you thought it was hilarious to mention Heather Oz’s comment that means some guy came to the computer to look at my b**b.

But when I got to PixieMama’s comment on the follow-up post - about these:

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 Michelle Pixie said...

I can't stand it! Can you have one in the mail to me like yesterday?! So dang cute!!

10:05 PM

 

And I completely and totally lost it… because I thought she was talking about my b**b.

Umm yeah.

So glad you got a kick out that too Dear.

 

Love,

Your Wife Who Is Having Blog Picture Remorse

 

~

Go link up – you won’t be sorry! 

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Thank You Very Much - Bite Edition #2

Time for Kmama’s weekly therapy in the form of  sincere notes of gratitude.  As always, linked up to her carnival!

 

First off – to Kmama for rocking the comment section yesterday!

Yes, I know it was totally lame that I actually posted a picture of a close call between a horse’s chompers and certain *ahem* part of my anatomy, Thank You Very Much.

 Kmama said...

Ow, ow, ow, ow!! You said "treats", not "teats", right? LOL

5:09 PM

 

The ensuing comments had me in stitches and you definitely deserve a bloggy fist pump, Thank You Very Much!

~

As if ONE biting animal were not enough… my parents picked up a couple more over the weekend.

Thank You Very Much for giving me puppy fever!

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Oh seriously?!?!

Can you stand the cuteness?

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Oh my Lord?  What I am going to do when he asks for one of his own?  Thank You Very Much!

 

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Oh, and yes – they do have sharp little toofsies, Thank You Very Much!

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~

Click on Kmama’s button at the top for more sincere gratitude :)