First of all, I would like to thank you for bringing your company to my small town, A.K.A. Hooterville. It is a great convenience for me and other members of my village to have quick access to health care necessities without making the 25 mile drive to the Wally World in the neighboring town.

Although some of your items are pricey, I realize that’s the price of convenience and that you make up for it with the occasional 2 for 1 Maybelline Black Lash Mascara sale that the Wally World never, ever has…and this makes me happy.

‘Cause a girl always needs mascara, especially when she is a fair skinned bottled natural blond.

I am also very happy with the vast inventory your store keeps in stock.

Everything from Tylenol to hemmorroid ointment to tampons to denture cream.

Not that I need denture cream, mind you, but I  am glad to know that if that day comes, it’s right here close to home.

You even carry the seasonal items that I overlook until the last minute, like Valentine’s Day cards. I would have had a very pissed off 11 year old had you not been there for me.

For that, I am eternally grateful.

However, last week when I was in your facility and standing in front of the pharmacy counter, I was put in a very awkward situation with my oldest daughter. Right at eye level was a plethora of adult… ahem, intimacy aides.

It looked like the Hustler store threw up on Hooterville.

So, I’m standing there with 15 people old enough to be my grandmother, humming Bridge Over Troubled Water, staring at the ceiling and sweating so profusely I think I may need to buy some maxi pads for my pits as my 11 year old is reading the label on every sexual aid product in your store.

But the one product that REALLY sparks her interest is this…

Warm Lovin’.

Really?

Although I’m sure Warm Lovin’ is a fantastic product, and feel free to include me on any free sample list, I do not feel comfortable purchasing this product in a display so accessible to my 11 year old.

It would be my suggestion to move said product to the feminine hygiene aisle or hemorrhoid aisle, as those are places she wouldn’t be caught dead in.

Hope you take the suggestions to heart as there are several products I’d like to try soon….like, maybe this weekend.

Your Loyal Customer,

SFM

I lie to my kids.

Like, every other breath.

It’s become a necessary evil to make my life a little easier and because I hate being the bad guy all the time.

Why say “No” when you can come up with a creative excuse?

For instance, my kids ask to go to the Wally World every day in hope that I will buy them more useless crap to clutter my house. Ninety percent of the time I just flat out say no but the other ten percent is what I like to call Creative Solutions for Defusing Mother’s Meltdown in Commerce.

Everyone knows the superstore giant is closed only one day of the year.

However, my children are not aware of this.

Here are some excuses I have told my children as to why Wally World is closed:

1. They’re painting the walls in the toy section.

2. They’re having a mandatory in-service on their failure to open all the cash register lines.

3. It’s Sam Walton’s birthday.

4. They’re closed on all red letter holidays just like the post office.

5. The People of Walmart are taking pictures there today.

6. They’re waxing the floors.

7. Someone drove through the tire/lube department by accident.

8. The bank wasn’t open and they couldn’t get money to make change for customers.

9. One of the birds that flew around the ceiling was found dead so they have to make sure it doesn’t have bird flu.

10. Someone stole all the carts.

So far they’ve believed me because I am their mother and I am not supposed to lie.

(Cough, cough, cough.)

I’m pretty sure they’re gonna have pretty high therapy bills by the time I get them raised.

The grocery store.

Ughhh.

More like “Let’s drive mom freaking nuts” for an hour.

I had to take them with me today. Them, being the two Tasmanian she-devils I carried in my belly. It was a battle of epic proportions in which I would’ve won, except my grocery store doesn’t have a liquor aisle.

Anyhoo.

I had to get food as we were down to a can of Veg-All, strawberry jelly and a pack of hot dogs. Even the Food Network site can’t even come up with a recipe for that…don’t ask me how I know, it’s just the cold hard facts.

My first mistake, besides taking the children, was to not have a list. Second mistake was not bringing Valium. Third, letting the heathens talk me into using that ginormous grocery cart with the car on front. Never a good idea.

So, we’re shopping and buying crap that we don’t need and I’m letting them by with a little of it just to hurry along the shopping trip. Bread, check. Diet Cokes, check. Chips, check. Brownies, check. La-da-da-la-da.

And then we steer that beast of a cart to the meat department and I know it’s coming. It’s EVERY FREAKING TIME. All hell breaks loose, crap hits the fan and Ella falls out of the car cart smack dab on the floor and has some type of emo-seizure conniption.

For some unknown cosmic reason, my 2 year old has a complete emotional breakdown every time we round the corner into the meat department. EVERY SINGLE TIME PEOPLE.

I don’t know if she is just overstimulated by the site of THAT much bologna or what, but she goes absolutely ape shit and starts whining and screaming, “BA-WON-EY…I WANT IT MOMMA….PEPPA-NONI’S…MOMMA, MOMMA.”  She won’t get up…and she’s getting louder and louder….and her sister is waving a industrial size package of Fischer’s in her face just egging it on.  I’m sweating and doing that one eye sweep around to see who all is witnessing this momentous moment of motherhood as I point the finger, cuss under my breath and pray the security camera’s aren’t rolling on me as I swat her bottom.

As I was finally leaving the store  a elderly woman came up to me and said, “You know, it gets better when they move out.”

Apparently she is senile.

So, all was quiet in my house and I decided to watch a little uninterrupted TV. AMC was showing Stripes and I decided to snuggle up in bed, eat a Rice Krispie treat and watch a little tube. It’s 11:48 on a Saturday night and I have no life.

Anyhoo, I’m watching and enjoying and suddenly realize the commercials have a errr…similar theme.

Erectile dysfunction.

Now, I’m a nurse. I’ve worked in a physician’s office and know this is a common problem. I’m sympathetic. It’s a big deal for men.

At first it was just commercials for Viagra…then Levitra…then Cialis. All of which show middle aged couples slow dancing, holding hands, being romantic. I get it.

Smilin’ Bob comes on and he’s just giddy.

The ExtenZe couple come on and they’re just annoying. No one is that excited about it. Seriously.

But then came a commercial that made me throw up in my mouth a little.

A company called Erectmed,(oh yes, you read that correctly, ERECTMED) has a product called Pos-t-vac. And with the part being vac…as vacuum…you can imagine where I’m going with this. A vacuum, and no it’s not for cleaning up the crumbs  off the kitchen floor, people.

And during this lovely commercial there were numerous creepy old men who said things like “You can be all you want to be” and “If you have a brain in your head, you will call and order this product right this minute.”

Really…”If I had a brain in my head”…I would have realized that the demographic for the AMC channel was for men 40-90 years old who are obviously not getting any and are up late on  Saturday night pondering the miracle for their manhood.

Unlike me, who just wanted to stay up late by myself, enjoy the peace and quiet and not have to put out.

Seriously.

Every now and then, Rico has to put on a swanky suit and head to the big city for an important bid’ness meeting. Sometimes I’ll tag along and he’ll drop me off at the mall where I’ll proceed to help out the nation’s economic slump.More often than not, I stay home and slave away with household chores, referee the children or just lay out at the pool….cause that’s my job.

I have to admit that when he tarries into the big city without me, I’m insanely jealous.  I love going to the big city. It’s such a different world than Hooterville. The shopping…the restaurants…bookstores. I love the hustle and bustle of the big city.

Big Daddy Rico knows I get a little melancholy when he goes away and he always tries to cheer me up with a gift when he comes home. It can be something as simple as a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts (ahhh…heaven!!!) or a book I’ve been wanting to read.

He’s sooooo thoughtful.

But every now and then, he REALLY out does himself…bringing home a lethal combination no matter which way you look at it….

SLIDERS AND PANTIES.

Today I went to the big city for a doctor’s appointment and since we were heading that way, we decided to go ahead and take the Sheik mobile back to the dealership since my lease is up at the end of the month. I admit to being a little sad when I drove off and left it there in the parking lot but I realize we’d come full circle with the whole sheik saga.

I mean, it’s only so long you can pretend to be a blond Middle Eastern oil baroness with a southern accent and a pasty white husband with a red and white table cloth on his head. People were starting to ask questions about the validity of our vast oil fortune, especially since they saw me buying my kids clothes at Wally World. Plus, Rico was really pushing the idea of an Arabic husband’s having more than one wife and I just can’t get along with that many people in my household at one time. Can you imagine all those woman in one house? You know their cycles would all synchronize and we do have guns in the house.

I’m just saying…

This time I am going American. I can pull that off much better. I do speak English,even though it is hard for foreigners to understand. And by foreigners, I mean anyone above the Mason-Dixon line. But if I speak slowly, they eventually get it.

It’s the new Yukon Denali for me. The standard redneck SUV of the south. And the dealerships don’t make promises they can’t keep except for maybe not filing bankruptcy, guaranteeing their warranty and keeping all their dealerships open. But I can live with that cause I know up front they aren’t gonna promise me fancy lattes and sheik mobile loaner cars during my service calls. They’re just gonna tell me to get my own friggin’ drink and wait until their done with my oil change. Ahhh, the American way.

On the way home, I noticed a store with all these pimp rims for my new Denali. And you know being all fabulous, I gotta have some pimp rims on  my new ride.

But not only that, I noticed you can RENT some pimp rims….YES, YOU CAN!!!

For as low as $35 dollar a week, I can rent me some 20’s or better yet….SOME SPINNERS!!!!!!

I can just see it now, me in my tiara and EMO gloves…driving up to school in the morning to let my “GRRRRRR”-eatest daughter out in front of ALL her friends…sitting on DUBS???

I might even be blaring some Nelly.

I think it’s my ultimate revenge yet.

****ATTENTION ALL RICO SAUVE FANS: DUE TO AN OVERWHELMING RESPONSE TO MY DING DONG HUSBAND, I WILL BE HOSTING A Q&A WITH MY…UHHH…BETTER HALF.

WANT TO KNOW HOW HE SNAGGED SUCH A HOT WIFE? WANT TO KNOW HOW HE DEVELOPED SUCH HOME IMPROVEMENT SKILLS WITH DUCT TAPE? EVER WONDER IF HE SLEEPS WITH ONE EYE OPEN? WANT TO KNOW WHY HE HAS SUCH AN AVERSION TO PEAS?

NO QUESTION WILL BE LEFT UNANSWERED.

AMUSEMENT GUARANTEED.

SEND YOUR QUESTION HERE  dejoni2003@yahoo.com  ****

My husband informed me today that I need to go out and buy some of those new strappy heels that ALL the gals are wearing. Since I wasn’t so sure what kind of heels he had in mind, I ask him to get online to give me an idea.

After a few minutes, he came up with this..

Oh, really? I guess all the women of Hooterville are now wearing glass heels to the local IGA. 

I think I will pass on these…at least out in public.

I did find these for Rico…

 I think he will approve.

I will use these with caution as I was wearing kitten heels this week to a funeral and fell right out into the floor in the Cafe Bonin. AND to top it off, I was wearing a dress…and a thong. Rico did not mention that the whole restaurant saw my poochie poochie until after we left…and then he laughed.

He is still sleeping with one eye open.

Today I am making a plea to all consumers of the Wally World.

First of all, I don’t mind that you come shopping in your Nascar PJ’s. I come to the superstore looking like crap all the time. So get out of bed, roll your hair and and come on shopping.

Second, I don’t care if your kids misbehave at the store. Been there, done that. My kids have thrown some tremendous tantrums. They gotta learn how to act in public somewhere, it might as well be at the Wally World.

But one thing I can not handle, If you are gonna come to the Wally World to buy the economy pack of generic douche, please do not subject me to you intently reading the label while I am buying chicken.

I am in the poultry aisle, you should be in the fish aisle.

Thank you for your cooperation.

 I love my hubby for many reasons.

He is patient, kind,  smart, a good father and he puts up with me.

Putting up with me is a rather difficult job. I’m a little high maintenence. I’ll admit it…but he was fully aware of this going into the deal. My mother even warned him.

Two days before our trip to the beach, he came home on a Sunday afternoon after working on a side project.

He was tired. I was manic…as usual.

After a seductive hug and kiss, I said “I would like to paint the kitchen before Secret Agent Man’s surprise birthday party next weekend…maybe chocolate brown…wouldn’t the kitchen be DIVINE in chocolate?…it would be like a huge brownie.”

He sat there patiently, looking at me like I had just jumped off a spaceship from Uranus.

I continued…

“But you know, I could never pull off chocolate in this kitchen with the green countertops…I really hate these countertops…they are so dated…and we need more cabinets…more counter space….and have you seen that antique looking metal back splash…OMG…I would give ANYTHING FOR THAT IN MY KITCHEN“

“Anything?”

Yes, I say…”Anything.”

“Let’s go to Lowe’s!”

And my Rico, my hero and soon to be my sex slave master says to me, “You want a new countertop? I can do that…and we can get some cabinets to go over there…and move the refrigerator over here… and mount a microwave up under here…and the back splash. It’ll be done by the party.”

In 2 1/2 days, my kitchen was totally remodeled…all by Rico and his dad. 

I have been paying for it in the bedroom ever since.

It was worth it…

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Fifteen months ago, I made a rash decision. Leave it to the advertising world to make me fall in love with Land Rover, leave it to the financial wizards to make leasing affordable.

Leasing the Rover was a wise tax move, as it is a “business” vehicle….BWAHAHAHA!!!!

Seriously, important bid’ness goes on in that vehicle seeing as I am not only the brains of this operation but also the beauty. Gawd, help us all.

So fifteen months ago, I went to the dealership and they schmoozed me. It was all “You are so fabulous SFM and your hawtness would only be complemented with this glorious vehicle…just think of the complimentary oil changes…your childless trips to the posh city of Brentwood…the courtesy sheik pimp mobile we will furnish you while your vehicle is here…the dining and shopping for the day trip her while we service your fabulous ride….would you like a glass  of wine while you ponder that ?”

So’s today I head to the big city all deck out in my pirate flip flops, cause that’s how I roll when I go big time, and upon arrival to said dealership for my scheduled oil change I was told, “I’m sorry, Ma”am, we don’t have any courtesy vehicles.”

There was no “Your Hawtness” or “Miss Fabulous SFM How the Hell You Been?”

I politely say, “Excuse me, but I scheduled my oil change a month ago…and I was told I would have a courtesy vehicle and in the event one wasn’t available, you would rent a car (AGHAST…a rental) for me to spend my fabulous childless day and by damn, I want my car and I want it now.”

So Birkenstock Granola boy says, “Ma’am, I’m really sorry, we are out of loaners and we don’t do rentals anymore.”

Me, “Not even for sheiks?”

“Cause you know I gots like 2 quarts of oil in the back hatch there… still in the container and some left over sand in the back floor board…you put a red and white tablecloth on my head and I’m the freaking sheik of Hooterville…so’s go get my friggin sheik pimp mobile!”

Granola boy picks up the phone I’m convinced to call the police but instead the manager…

So’s I explain to the manager that “I have not had breakfast, nor lunch and my blood sugar must be  low…thus the jibberish about being the redneck sheik and I need food bad ’cause I’m so hungry I think I got the rickets so could somebody give me a ride to Chili’s…oh, and I forgot to tell you I’m packing heat in the vehicle…don’t be alarmed the clip ain’t in it…all sheiks carry heat.”

When he finally picks his mouth up off the floor he says, “Ma’am, I will try to find you a ride…but it may be 20 to 30 minutes…you may want to walk…it’s not that far.”

I have literally scared the bejesus out of these people and now have to walk in tony Brentwood in my redneck pirate flip flops across 6 lanes of traffic filled with sheik pimp rides and Mercedes to get some friggin food…and since I’m by myself and driving I can’t even let off some steam with a margarita, I had to settle with the house wine of the south…sweet tea.