My long holiday weekend started off great as Rico and I had Wednesday night sans the children. No cartoons…no juice cups…some adult fun and uninterrupted sleep. HEAVEN….that is until the house alarm goes off at 2 a.m. with blaring sirens and an electronic voice screaming, “INTRUDER ALERT…INTRUDER ALERT!!”
Rico grabs the Glock and heads down the stairs to put a cap in someone’s ass and I’m looking for a baseball bat to beat the hell out of them for waking me up. Go ahead…steal my crap…but DON’T WAKE ME UP!
Turned out to be a false alarm…PTL!
Black Friday 4 a.m., my friends head up to Wally World to get score some great deals. I, being a sane person, stayed home. ”Hot Momma” had her eye on a particular electronic device and was first in line for cutting open the crate. Next thing she knew, she was knocked down and trampled. Once up, she fought to get her item and walking off she noticed a woman lying on the floor trampled with her pants pulled half down.
People are nuts.
I had one child to care for today. One kid…one house…one dinner for friends to prepare. Sounds easy enough.
In a five minute span, I was burning cornbread…setting off the house alarm (which means the security company has called me twice in less than 12 hours). As I was trying to remember my password and have them turn the siren off, Ella was sitting in a car seat in the middle of the sun porch with her daddy’s car keys…making the truck pop open and setting off the car alarm all the while yelling, “Wook Mommy!”
Finally things settle down and I go pee having held it in during the “Let’s scare the crap out of Momma moment.” Ella, seeing an opportunity to help, is trying to push a potty seat under my butt and screaming “Grunt Mommy” while shoving Elmo books in my face.
I think I’d been better off going to Walmart.
Things brightened up tremendously when Farm Chick brought this table centerpiece made from a Reader’s Digest….
How can you have a bad day when you have such a FABULOUS TURKEY on your dinner table!
1. My husband…who works tirelessly to give us a better life and makes me be a better person.
2. My children…who are happy and healthy.
3. My parents…who love me unconditionally.
4. My friends…who know how nutty I am and like me anyway.
5. My country…for all my freedoms.
6. My job…because so many are without one.
7. My in-laws…who accept Rachel and me as their own.
8. Our military…for fighting for our freedom.
9. My home…my safe haven from the world.
10. My God…who loves me even when I fall short of his grace.
Please take a moment and be thankful for your blessings.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my family, friends, readers, visitors.
There are few times in life when you and the universe become one and true mental clarity is achieved. I had an epiphany this weekend that shook me to my core, made me break out in cold sweat and in tuned my mush brain into the sharp, functioning organ it should be.
All this occurred while sitting on the porcelain throne in the throws of the dreaded stomach virus. It’s at this moment that I discovered when you really have to take a crap NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.
In the grips of tightening your butt cheeks and the shuffle/run down the hall to the bathroom, it doesn’t matter who won the election…if your kids are writing on the walls with crayons…or if the economy is gonna keep spiraling down the tube and we’re gonna starve to death.
It pales in comparison to being sick in your pants.
All that matters is that you keep your deathly butt clench and sit down without spraying the wall behind you or your ruining your favorite sweatpants.
This, my friends, is the life changing lesson Oprah has been talking about and I’m so happy I could share it with you.
I will be available for the talk show circuit starting Monday to enlighten the few people who don’t read my blog.
Thank you and Goodnight,
A Slightly Dehydrated SFM
Rico and I have been building our new office.
We started with this…
and now, we have this.
Rico said, and I quote, “You are a freaking super genius for the stucco idea.”
I’ve been telling him along that I am Mensa material…but he was blinded by my good looks and sexual charms.
Now he knows I’m the whole package.
I have been tagged by Farm Chick. I ran and ran…but she finally caught me.
So, since I’ve been tagged, I must tell 7 weird/crazy things about myself. How am I gonna narrow it down to just 7? I also have to post the 4th picture from my 4th file…glad it wasn’t the 5th file…those are a little naughty.
Here it goes…
1. I always have my toes polished. I may let the rest of myself go…but the toes are always nice.
2. I have a major phobia of salmonella. If raw chicken touches my hands or my kitchen…I will Lysol everything. Sometimes I will take a Phenergan just thinking about it.
3. I love to sing but am tone deaf. It’s so bad that my kids will scream at me to stop. They should put me on the American Idol rejects.
4. I am clumsy. I can run in 5 inch stilettos but I can’t walk barefoot. Tonight, I fell down the stairs. This is the fourth time I’ve done it. I think now is the age I need to start living on one floor before I break a hip.
5. I like liver cheese. I’m embarrassed just to say it. Today at lunch, Rico got bologna and I whispered “liver cheese.” He was like, “What? You mean there’s people that like that stuff.” So then, I got all defensive and yelled at the top of my lungs, “Yes, I LUV liver cheese…I puffy heart it…with white bread and Miracle Whip…God Save the Queen!”
6. In high school, I would use a can of pink Aqua Net hairspray every other day. Sometimes I would wash and style my big hair three times daily.
7. I do not like fruit. None. I will drink a strawberry daiquiri…but that’s only for the liquor.
There you go…just a fraction of my nuttiness.
Tonight, I was flipping through a magazine when I spotted the horoscopes. I scanned the list and there I was…Pisces.
Pisceans are said to be sensitive, dreamy, empathetic and intuitive. Knowing which planet is rotating in which house is supposed to guide me in making decisions and achieving my dreams.
I’m intuitive alright, sounds like crap to me.
My horoscope this month states, “Listen to your instincts as the Full Moon on the 12th helps manifest your ideas into reality.”
Well, my instincts during the Full Moon tells me to run like hell…to the nearest 5 star hotel for room service/spa and not tell anyone where I am. Anyone with kids knows that hell hath no fury like an evening with your children during a Full Moon.
Crap is gonna happen. Big crap. Not normal fighting over toys or spilling stuff on the carpet. That’s for quarter or half moons. Seasoned parents know that someone is gonna shed blood at the hands of a sibling or the plumber is gonna have to get a tiara that’s stuck in the crapper.
Kids during a Full Moon makes Guantanamo Bay look like a seaside resort.
Next my horoscope says, “Jupiter is moving into Uranus (giggle) and to say this mantra seven times… “Om padmo ushnisha vimale hum phat.”
I have no idea what that means but it can’t be good as it has the words “hum phat”. Could that be interpreted as, ”If you keep eating that raw cookie dough you’ve been hiding in the refrigerator away from the kids your butt is gonna get “HMMMM, FAT!”
I thought so too. See…I AM intuitive.
So unless someone is gonna write a horoscope that tells me when the kids are actually gonna sleep all night or who put the toilet brush in the refrigerator…well, don’t waste my time.
From the outside looking in, my house looks peaceful. Green lawn…falling leaves…bicycles gently laid against the porch.
Once you enter, normalcy ceases to exist.
It’s gotten to the point I need a Valium suppository just to make a bologna sandwich. And yes, we eat bologna…the poor man’s steak…and we like LOVE it. Sometimes we get a little fancy…fry it and serve it on Chinet instead of cheap foam paper plates.
Yeah, that’s how we roll in small town USA.
Speaking of money, the IRS is bleeding me dry. I have until November 28 to pay up. I offered them one of my kids…even gave them the option of which one they wanted…but they declined. It seems they have no use for two girls with vile flatulence. WHAT? I guarantee you…if you took them over to Afghanistan for 5 minutes, Bin Laden would be coming out that mountain he’s been hiding in for years and ask, “What the hell is that smell?”
I also offered to go on welfare…since they don’t mind taking care of everyone else. It seems I’m not good enough. My cell phone isn’t up to snuff. If you qualify for welfare these days, you have to have the latest, top of the line Motorola/Blackberry with unlimited talk and text. Since I can’t afford either, I don’t qualify.
They say if you don’t pay your taxes, they put a lien on whatever you own. Well, the bank owns all my stuff so I guess they will be putting a lien on my loan officer. Poor guy. I hope he forgives me.
Just joking…I’m gonna pay my taxes. Maybe Yes, I will. ‘Cause I’m a good citizen and good person and exaggerate a whole lot.
Maybe I can get on the Wheel of Fortune or the Family Feud…make me some quick cash. Ain’t nothing like getting molested by Richard Dawson on national TV for $12,000. (Survey says…I’d do it in a minute!)
Musings from a southern Confucius continued…
1. Confucius say “Children who act like angels at church when grandparents take them will be heathens when you take them.”
2. Confucius say “Gift cards to the IRS is an appropriate gift for a Southern Fried Momma.”
3. Confucius say “Getting a king size bed for you and your kids will not give you more room…but them more room to roll around.”
4. Confuicius say “It doesn’t matter which way you put the toilet paper on the roll…kids will unroll it through the house anyway.”
5. Confucius say “A kid that overloads on potato soup and refried beans can make big noises that are flammable.”
6. Confucius say “Mouse turds are inevitable if you live in the country.”
7. Confucius say “Skoal cans down a dryer vent may be a fire hazard.”
8. Confucius say “Skoal cans down a dryer vent may take father in law several hours to remove.”
9. Confucius say “Snakes are out in November and will make Southern Fried Momma piss her pants.”
10. Confucius say “Having a toddler in the bathroom shoving Elmo books in your face and patting you on the back while you are pooping is not a pleasant experience.”
Being blond does come with it’s advantages…
(Thanks to my stylist, Merica, for making me blond again and giving me a fabulous cut!!!!)
This is Rico…explaining to me in great detail how to clean up the mess the drywaller’s left in the new office…
and to start painting ASAP.
Next, it’s time to meet up with Farm Chick to help on our project to help revitalize smalltownland…
and fight off vicious snakes captured by the Deer Slayer and Ray-Ray.
As you can see…my social calender is full.
Mommy sold shovels at Home Depot…
Compliments of Farm Chick