The new guy started this week.
MUAHAHAHAHAAAA
I returned from the loo to find him sitting in my chair going through a file. He looked up with the most sheepish look on his face. I couldn't resist.
I gave him the "wtf" gesture, palms up, and told him to get his ass out of my chair.
He started to fumble his way through an explanation and I cut him off...
"It's not a fucking library man, what are you doing?"
Outright panic as he gathered papers.
I started laughing and told him I was giving him a hard time...
"Take your time brother I need a smoke anyway"
But I scared him a little.
heh heh heh
Earlier today he asked Work Sista and I where someone was.
Now, keep in mind, neither one of us are secretaries or whatever the politically correct title is anymore. So it's game on when a dude sees a bra and makes an assumption.
We both looked at him and told him the truth...we didn't know.
He stared at us with the "shouldn't you know" look...disapproving frown and all that.
"Yeah, we just work here buddy. We don't have the secret password to the Clubhouse. We think we figure it out and they just change it on us".
He kinda got that one ..
"They gave me 'Pink Petunias'...should I be concerned?"
"Maybe brother".
It's all good. He's learning.
The other new guy is a little slower...and I think he's afraid of me. I said as much one day and Six Foot Scary whispered that Skinny new guy is afraid of everyone.
That kind of takes the fun out of it.
Skinny stood in front of me and asked me to fetch him a file on his second day.
insert eyeroll
I pointed to the cabinets behind me and told him to have at at.
"Well (dramatic pause for effect) ...what do you do when (topdogs) ask you for something?" he says, insult laced with that not-so patient 'teach the dumb office beatch her place' tone of voice.
"They don't ask, they just help themselves."
I swallowed the "they know better" that almost came out. He doesn't know better after all. He, like the other new guys, assumes that if you have ovaries you must be there to serve those with balls. Some dudes don't think hard enough to imagine some of the ovary carriers have a few more credentials... But I cut them some slack. It takes a lot of concentration just walking upright.
:)
At least Sheepish has a sense of ha-ha.
And at lunch today, he earned Kudos.
We had pizza brought in for a going away party for Six Foot Scary and Eyeballs.
The usual banter and insults were flying - it was hilarious...often extremely inappropriate, but hilarious. At the butt of most jokes was the Italian Stallion who is the self appointed class clown.
The Italian Stallion was bragging about his ninja like qualities (he is a big dude and most definetly not ninja-like) when Sheepish pipes up and says "only an Italian ninja would wear a fluorescent orange vest".
Holy mother of mother's comin outta left field.
"When did you fuckin start?" says the Stallion
Lawdy we were dyin with the one liners...what a hoot.
That's the business...this is the atmosphere...and this is how we treat the fresh meat.
We break em quick.
:)
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
A Date With Two Young Men
I don't know what normal is for most mothers, but normal for me has become a series of moments that inspire feelings ranging from pride to utter horror.
No bloody wonder I'm nuts.
Saturday morning I whizzed through Toronto traffic and made the trip down to the metropolis of Bealton to pick up the boys.
(whizzed through Toronto....metropolis of Bealton...heh, heh, heh...I kill me!)
I reached my destination at 9AM and found them in their pajamas watching cartoons. Red had a mouthful of green 'breakfast' liquorice.
Sigh
I wanted to take them shopping before ball hockey at noon, so I began the process of getting them away from the TV and dressed immediately. Promises of new hoodies from the cool store and a trip to the sports store sparked interest momentarily, but its pretty hard to compete with the Madagascar penguins.
And they had the Nerf launchers out too. I got shot in the ass while hugging the Saminator.
Game on.
Red handed me my own weapon of mass destruction and skipped over to his hidden stash of 'bullets' so that I could defend myself. It's only fair. I pressed the yellow foam bullet into the barrel, cocked that bad boy and shot Red in the belly. He fell dramatically to the floor with a giggle.
I reloaded and aimed at Saminator...who's eyes were glued, unblinking, at the large screen...mouth slightly open.
I shot..and the little rubber end hit young Homer in the neck, thwap, and stuck. That was cool. Saminator laughed as he yanked it off.
At least I had his attention.
Eventually the war game ended, the boys were dressed and we were on our way to the stores. They were somewhat behaved as we made our purchases (after all..it was all for them), and we decided to go to Boston Pizza to visit The Short One and have a snack (and COFFEE) before ball hockey.
The boys bolted into the restaurant, barely managing to remain in the "To Be Seated" zone when I asked them to hold up. I need to get their brakes checked.
Their sister greeted us with a big beautiful smile and the boys were off in two shakes to pick a booth. We were in one when Saminator decided to run into another one. I just gave him 'the look' and asked him to get back here. The Short One whispered that someone from their head office was there so she'd have to be very formal. I shook my head in understanding and said a quick prayer that the boys would leave the restaurant in the same condition it was in when we arrived.
Coats off, Red beside me and Saminator across from me, we ordered a snack and drinks. We managed to get through the half hour with only a few requests to Red to get out from under the table, and a few looks at the Saminator when he stood up to fire his TecDeck across the wall. That's a successful restaurant trip.
Then it was time for ball hockey.
I'm going to save you the play by play simply because there were too many wicked moments to count! Saminator started the game by swooping over to the ball and running it past the other teams' defense to score with a cool little toss into the top corner.
Oh yeah...
He then moved back to defense, later taking the goalie position where he didn't actually have much action.
Cuz the RedMan was on frickin fire.
SIX goals ma friends. SIX!!
The other team didn't have a chance as Red whipped the ball away from frantic players and maneuvered in, around, and through the other players until he got to the net where he'd fire in a shot. After every goal he'd come running down the arena to get a fist five and helmet tap from his grinning mom.
My favourite play happened at the net. He actually faked a shot bringing the goalie diving down to block a corner, then Red calmly pulled the ball back and shot over the grounded goaltender.
Like...where does the dude come up with that stuff?
My heart just thumps reliving the moment. Kid rocks.
I drove back to Toronto to the sound of snoring in the back seat.
An hour after arrival, the kids decided they were hungry. Now. It was 4:00.
Time for our date.
Ever been to The Spaghetti Factory on Front Street? If you haven't, go! Highly recommended! Lots of interesting decor, food is fantastic and you don't feel financially raped when the bill comes. It's ahhhhite!
The hostess led us through the restaurant to our table. I pulled the chairs out for the boys and pushed them back in for them. The floors are covered with cushiony carpet that makes sliding chairs impossible...
They were each given 5 crayons bundled together with an elastic. An elastic.
Sigh
We ordered chocolate milks and coke and discussed menu options as the boys untied their crayons and began working away at the paper place mats. Spaghetti and meatballs all around. Bonus!
Chocolate milk arrived in glasses with two straws.
'Please don't blow bubbles.'
'No...don't slurp.'
'You are not a walrus..please take the straws out of your mouth.'
Eventually I just took their milk away and they returned to colouring, briefly.
'yes, you have a big foot, now get that big floppy thing off the table.'
'Don't lean back in your chair, it's gonna go over.'
'No, really, it'll go over. Sit properly.'
Dinner arrived and was enjoyed. Butcha gotta have dessert.
Ice cream for everyone!
Sweet...
Leftover spaghetti cleared away the boys had to entertain themselves. And if you take an elastic, and pull it between crayons like this....
'Put the elastic down before it flies off and hits someone.'
Two little lightbulbs appear just over the horns on two little heads.
The 'Ibroughtyouintotheworldandicantakeyouout Look' appears and the light from the light bulb momentarily dims.
The elastic turned into handcuffs. They discovered they could handcuff themselves with wrists in front or behind. Red explained he was going to jail.
'For what?' Says me
'I was bad.' Says him
'What did you do?' Says me
'I stole something.' Says him
'Oh dear, what did you steal?' Says me
'Popsicles.' Says him
It's a tough world folks.
Handcuffs got boring and they tried pulling the elastics back between the crayons..(give them credit for not giving up easily) but their mother was on to them.
Saminator though it would make a nice necklace but that didn't fly either.
Who was the brilliant mind that thought that would be a good plan? Bundling crayons with an elastic and giving them to kids at a busy restaurant?
In hindsight I should have let 'em have at at it, just so I could shrug at the distraught staff and tell them they shouldn't hand out elastics to kids. I am kind of curious just what the little monkeys would have come up with, given the freedom to explore the possibilities...
Restaurant still standing if you'd like to check it out :)
We were home by 6:30, played a bit, bathed, and watched a movie. We were all in bed by 8:30.
Not terribly surprising.
It was a good day though :) And I am proud of those kids...despite the moments of shock and horror.
No bloody wonder I'm nuts.
Saturday morning I whizzed through Toronto traffic and made the trip down to the metropolis of Bealton to pick up the boys.
(whizzed through Toronto....metropolis of Bealton...heh, heh, heh...I kill me!)
I reached my destination at 9AM and found them in their pajamas watching cartoons. Red had a mouthful of green 'breakfast' liquorice.
Sigh
I wanted to take them shopping before ball hockey at noon, so I began the process of getting them away from the TV and dressed immediately. Promises of new hoodies from the cool store and a trip to the sports store sparked interest momentarily, but its pretty hard to compete with the Madagascar penguins.
And they had the Nerf launchers out too. I got shot in the ass while hugging the Saminator.
Game on.
Red handed me my own weapon of mass destruction and skipped over to his hidden stash of 'bullets' so that I could defend myself. It's only fair. I pressed the yellow foam bullet into the barrel, cocked that bad boy and shot Red in the belly. He fell dramatically to the floor with a giggle.
I reloaded and aimed at Saminator...who's eyes were glued, unblinking, at the large screen...mouth slightly open.
I shot..and the little rubber end hit young Homer in the neck, thwap, and stuck. That was cool. Saminator laughed as he yanked it off.
At least I had his attention.
Eventually the war game ended, the boys were dressed and we were on our way to the stores. They were somewhat behaved as we made our purchases (after all..it was all for them), and we decided to go to Boston Pizza to visit The Short One and have a snack (and COFFEE) before ball hockey.
The boys bolted into the restaurant, barely managing to remain in the "To Be Seated" zone when I asked them to hold up. I need to get their brakes checked.
Their sister greeted us with a big beautiful smile and the boys were off in two shakes to pick a booth. We were in one when Saminator decided to run into another one. I just gave him 'the look' and asked him to get back here. The Short One whispered that someone from their head office was there so she'd have to be very formal. I shook my head in understanding and said a quick prayer that the boys would leave the restaurant in the same condition it was in when we arrived.
Coats off, Red beside me and Saminator across from me, we ordered a snack and drinks. We managed to get through the half hour with only a few requests to Red to get out from under the table, and a few looks at the Saminator when he stood up to fire his TecDeck across the wall. That's a successful restaurant trip.
Then it was time for ball hockey.
I'm going to save you the play by play simply because there were too many wicked moments to count! Saminator started the game by swooping over to the ball and running it past the other teams' defense to score with a cool little toss into the top corner.
Oh yeah...
He then moved back to defense, later taking the goalie position where he didn't actually have much action.
Cuz the RedMan was on frickin fire.
SIX goals ma friends. SIX!!
The other team didn't have a chance as Red whipped the ball away from frantic players and maneuvered in, around, and through the other players until he got to the net where he'd fire in a shot. After every goal he'd come running down the arena to get a fist five and helmet tap from his grinning mom.
My favourite play happened at the net. He actually faked a shot bringing the goalie diving down to block a corner, then Red calmly pulled the ball back and shot over the grounded goaltender.
Like...where does the dude come up with that stuff?
My heart just thumps reliving the moment. Kid rocks.
I drove back to Toronto to the sound of snoring in the back seat.
An hour after arrival, the kids decided they were hungry. Now. It was 4:00.
Time for our date.
Ever been to The Spaghetti Factory on Front Street? If you haven't, go! Highly recommended! Lots of interesting decor, food is fantastic and you don't feel financially raped when the bill comes. It's ahhhhite!
The hostess led us through the restaurant to our table. I pulled the chairs out for the boys and pushed them back in for them. The floors are covered with cushiony carpet that makes sliding chairs impossible...
They were each given 5 crayons bundled together with an elastic. An elastic.
Sigh
We ordered chocolate milks and coke and discussed menu options as the boys untied their crayons and began working away at the paper place mats. Spaghetti and meatballs all around. Bonus!
Chocolate milk arrived in glasses with two straws.
'Please don't blow bubbles.'
'No...don't slurp.'
'You are not a walrus..please take the straws out of your mouth.'
Eventually I just took their milk away and they returned to colouring, briefly.
'yes, you have a big foot, now get that big floppy thing off the table.'
'Don't lean back in your chair, it's gonna go over.'
'No, really, it'll go over. Sit properly.'
Dinner arrived and was enjoyed. Butcha gotta have dessert.
Ice cream for everyone!
Sweet...
Leftover spaghetti cleared away the boys had to entertain themselves. And if you take an elastic, and pull it between crayons like this....
'Put the elastic down before it flies off and hits someone.'
Two little lightbulbs appear just over the horns on two little heads.
The 'Ibroughtyouintotheworldandicantakeyouout Look' appears and the light from the light bulb momentarily dims.
The elastic turned into handcuffs. They discovered they could handcuff themselves with wrists in front or behind. Red explained he was going to jail.
'For what?' Says me
'I was bad.' Says him
'What did you do?' Says me
'I stole something.' Says him
'Oh dear, what did you steal?' Says me
'Popsicles.' Says him
It's a tough world folks.
Handcuffs got boring and they tried pulling the elastics back between the crayons..(give them credit for not giving up easily) but their mother was on to them.
Saminator though it would make a nice necklace but that didn't fly either.
Who was the brilliant mind that thought that would be a good plan? Bundling crayons with an elastic and giving them to kids at a busy restaurant?
In hindsight I should have let 'em have at at it, just so I could shrug at the distraught staff and tell them they shouldn't hand out elastics to kids. I am kind of curious just what the little monkeys would have come up with, given the freedom to explore the possibilities...
Ice cream finally arrived, was eaten...bill paid..and we bolted before they discovered anymore fun uses for elastics.
End of date.
Restaurant still standing if you'd like to check it out :)
We were home by 6:30, played a bit, bathed, and watched a movie. We were all in bed by 8:30.
Not terribly surprising.
It was a good day though :) And I am proud of those kids...despite the moments of shock and horror.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
A Decade of Change
Check out Tim McGraw's song...sums it all up rather well :)
Back When
We had an exhilerating Safety Meeting last night and our team sat together through the meal, laughing about some of the funny exchanges we've had. Most of them head slappers based on the things those of us over 30 know that the 20 somethings never heard of. Like the rubbernecker theory and the Rumpelstiltskin stories I mentioned in previous blogs.
Things change, of course they do. But what a difference a mere 10 years can make!
They don't remember rotary phones. Remember those? We had an avacado green wall mounted phone in the kitchen. That was THE phone for the longest time too btw... The cord was stretched 15 feet long and would get all tangled up. You had to dangle the receiver and let it spin to untangle it. You had to get rid of the rotary phones when 911 came into effect...it took too long for the 9 to go around...tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.... Talk about a pain in the ass when you dialed the number wrong and had to start all over. However, slamming the phone down on someone was gratifying.
We sit and listen to the young guys talk about their fancy gidgets and gadgets. Dudes love that shit. Six Foot Scary (45) finally broke down and got a BlueRay. Hey, that's cool right?
Remember the disks?
Think back...way back...before the VHS, before the BETA. The disk. A big ass album looking thing.
Albums...omg. I'm about to get sidetracked for a moment. But apparently I'm old and this is acceptable....
When The Short One was a little girl, we were visiting my folks at the farmhouse. She found a 45 in my old bedroom closet and asked me what kind of a frisbee it was.
Wow.
The Tall One was about 6 when my grandmother was enjoying her birthday cake at our dinner table. The mini Tall One asked her how old she was, and when she replied "71" his eyes just about popped out of his head.
"Did you see the dinosaurs????"
I thought she was going to throw her fork at him. But it had cake on it.
Getting back to the kids at work...who are only 10 years or so behind me...most of them...****sob****
They don't remember the PC era. That's Pre Computers.
I remember when the office I worked in changed over to computers. Big ugly ass yellow things with iddy bitty monochrome monitors that gave you a headache after an hour. And the gigantic mainframe.
And using a typewriter.
In fact, it was a really good typewriter if it had the little preview screen that let you preview one bloody sentence at a time before you hit enter and it typed it out for you. That was an electric typewriter. I learned on the really ancient model you had to drive the keys all the way down, and listen for the satisfying little wack, wack, wack as you typed away. And it dinged when you got to the end. And the whole cartridge moved when you hit return. You had to make sure your table was sturdy or shit would get knocked over.
Laptops.
pffft.
IPods.
sheesh.
Things have changed so much...but it's fun to remember..
Big hair, harlem pants, Cougar boots with the laces undone.....
Back When
We had an exhilerating Safety Meeting last night and our team sat together through the meal, laughing about some of the funny exchanges we've had. Most of them head slappers based on the things those of us over 30 know that the 20 somethings never heard of. Like the rubbernecker theory and the Rumpelstiltskin stories I mentioned in previous blogs.
Things change, of course they do. But what a difference a mere 10 years can make!
They don't remember rotary phones. Remember those? We had an avacado green wall mounted phone in the kitchen. That was THE phone for the longest time too btw... The cord was stretched 15 feet long and would get all tangled up. You had to dangle the receiver and let it spin to untangle it. You had to get rid of the rotary phones when 911 came into effect...it took too long for the 9 to go around...tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.... Talk about a pain in the ass when you dialed the number wrong and had to start all over. However, slamming the phone down on someone was gratifying.
We sit and listen to the young guys talk about their fancy gidgets and gadgets. Dudes love that shit. Six Foot Scary (45) finally broke down and got a BlueRay. Hey, that's cool right?
Remember the disks?
Think back...way back...before the VHS, before the BETA. The disk. A big ass album looking thing.
Albums...omg. I'm about to get sidetracked for a moment. But apparently I'm old and this is acceptable....
When The Short One was a little girl, we were visiting my folks at the farmhouse. She found a 45 in my old bedroom closet and asked me what kind of a frisbee it was.
Wow.
The Tall One was about 6 when my grandmother was enjoying her birthday cake at our dinner table. The mini Tall One asked her how old she was, and when she replied "71" his eyes just about popped out of his head.
"Did you see the dinosaurs????"
I thought she was going to throw her fork at him. But it had cake on it.
Getting back to the kids at work...who are only 10 years or so behind me...most of them...****sob****
They don't remember the PC era. That's Pre Computers.
I remember when the office I worked in changed over to computers. Big ugly ass yellow things with iddy bitty monochrome monitors that gave you a headache after an hour. And the gigantic mainframe.
And using a typewriter.
In fact, it was a really good typewriter if it had the little preview screen that let you preview one bloody sentence at a time before you hit enter and it typed it out for you. That was an electric typewriter. I learned on the really ancient model you had to drive the keys all the way down, and listen for the satisfying little wack, wack, wack as you typed away. And it dinged when you got to the end. And the whole cartridge moved when you hit return. You had to make sure your table was sturdy or shit would get knocked over.
Laptops.
pffft.
IPods.
sheesh.
Things have changed so much...but it's fun to remember..
Big hair, harlem pants, Cougar boots with the laces undone.....
Monday, April 12, 2010
Rumpelwho?
Stiltskin....Rumpelstiltskin.
It happens every day around mid afternoon. We are tired and likely suffering from dehydration...and the conversation always tends to head south.
Big J is going to be a dad for the first time this summer, and so Little Bro made a wager that the baby would be born a week late.
"What's your wager?" I ask...
"I get the baby" says Little Bro
"The baby?! Who are you, fucking Rumpelstiltskin?" I ask?
Well really.
"Who's Rumpelstiltskin?" asks Little Bro.
Now, I love my lil bro...but sometimes he makes me wonder. There's 10 years between he and I...I'm the old chick, and the stuff I figured everyone knew...
Frigalmighty I sound like my folks. Shitballs.
Six Foot Scary, St. Louis and Work Sista joined the conversation. I refreshed their memory on the story of Rumpelstiltskin (Six Foot Scary is old like me and remembered), but do you think we could remember how the story ends? It was a happy ending for the girl...but what happened to Rumpelstiltskin?
Do you remember?
St. Louis googled.
Gawd bless the makers of Google.
Originally the story ends this way:
Rumpelstiltskin ran away angrily, and never came back.
However, and this is disturbing, the ending was revised in 1857 where Rumpelstiltskin drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.
That's just gross!
The chat fluttered between the freakish minds that came up with the revised ending, The Grimm Brother's movie (which was good by the way), then ended with a few final jabs at Little Bro..
And that was our strange conversation of the day.
In the meantime, we really are building a water treatment plant here....honestly.
I think I need to go to bed early..and drink more water....
It happens every day around mid afternoon. We are tired and likely suffering from dehydration...and the conversation always tends to head south.
Big J is going to be a dad for the first time this summer, and so Little Bro made a wager that the baby would be born a week late.
"What's your wager?" I ask...
"I get the baby" says Little Bro
"The baby?! Who are you, fucking Rumpelstiltskin?" I ask?
Well really.
"Who's Rumpelstiltskin?" asks Little Bro.
Now, I love my lil bro...but sometimes he makes me wonder. There's 10 years between he and I...I'm the old chick, and the stuff I figured everyone knew...
Frigalmighty I sound like my folks. Shitballs.
Six Foot Scary, St. Louis and Work Sista joined the conversation. I refreshed their memory on the story of Rumpelstiltskin (Six Foot Scary is old like me and remembered), but do you think we could remember how the story ends? It was a happy ending for the girl...but what happened to Rumpelstiltskin?
Do you remember?
St. Louis googled.
Gawd bless the makers of Google.
Originally the story ends this way:
Rumpelstiltskin ran away angrily, and never came back.
However, and this is disturbing, the ending was revised in 1857 where Rumpelstiltskin drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.
That's just gross!
The chat fluttered between the freakish minds that came up with the revised ending, The Grimm Brother's movie (which was good by the way), then ended with a few final jabs at Little Bro..
And that was our strange conversation of the day.
In the meantime, we really are building a water treatment plant here....honestly.
I think I need to go to bed early..and drink more water....
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Red's Pet
The trip back to Toronto with the boys was rather amusing today. This is the conversation I had with Red:
R: "We need to go on an airplane to see Sonwon"
Me: "That's right hunny"
R: "When are we going? He misses me.."
Me: "In June...after blackfly season"
pause
R: "I have a blackfly."
Me: "You do?"
R: "Yes. He's my pet."
Me: "Really? What's his name?"
R: "Charlie. And he's blue."
choke back giggle
Me: "You have a blue blackfly named Charlie?"
R: "Yup"
Me: "Where does he sleep?"
R: "In bed!"
I should have known...
Me: "In an itty bitty blackfly bed?"
R: "NO...he's a big boy!"
Me: "Oh..."
R: "He sleeps in my bed."
Me: "My goodness, you have to be careful you don't squish him!"
R: "Mom....he sleeps ooooover me"
I'm so uneducated...
R: "He's 36"
blink
Me: "36...my, he really is a big boy"
R: "yup"
Me: "Does he bite?"
R: "No...he doesn't eat people. Only Saminator. He chases Saminator. Then he eats him."
Well that explains a lot....
Me: "So you have a 36 year old, blue blackfly named Charlie that eats Saminator?"
R: "AIRPLANE!!!"
Red's equivalent to something shiny...and the end of the story of Charlie.
He'll be back though.
R: "We need to go on an airplane to see Sonwon"
Me: "That's right hunny"
R: "When are we going? He misses me.."
Me: "In June...after blackfly season"
pause
R: "I have a blackfly."
Me: "You do?"
R: "Yes. He's my pet."
Me: "Really? What's his name?"
R: "Charlie. And he's blue."
choke back giggle
Me: "You have a blue blackfly named Charlie?"
R: "Yup"
Me: "Where does he sleep?"
R: "In bed!"
I should have known...
Me: "In an itty bitty blackfly bed?"
R: "NO...he's a big boy!"
Me: "Oh..."
R: "He sleeps in my bed."
Me: "My goodness, you have to be careful you don't squish him!"
R: "Mom....he sleeps ooooover me"
I'm so uneducated...
R: "He's 36"
blink
Me: "36...my, he really is a big boy"
R: "yup"
Me: "Does he bite?"
R: "No...he doesn't eat people. Only Saminator. He chases Saminator. Then he eats him."
Well that explains a lot....
Me: "So you have a 36 year old, blue blackfly named Charlie that eats Saminator?"
R: "AIRPLANE!!!"
Red's equivalent to something shiny...and the end of the story of Charlie.
He'll be back though.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Safety Moment: Mess Hall Memories
Work Sista and I sat yammering away at Swiss Chalet between bites of lunch yesterday. We talked about the men in our lives, parties, work, friends... The conversation was fully animated..both of us hand talkers...
Booths are a good idea in restaurants..food can fly off a fork at any given moment and the extra barrier provides somewhat adequate protection.
Somewhat.
I remember a shorter version of The Tall One winging an unwanted pickle across McDonald's. It landed on the biggest, scariest looking meathead's table. Splat.
I stifled a laugh, being the mature mother I am, and tried to act like I had no idea what just happen as I quietly scolded the little guy.
It was not the only pickle incident.
Recall the story told previously about Red flinging his pickle at the Duckman..and how it landed perfectly in the middle of one lens of his dark cool guy sunglasses...and stuck there. And how Duckman didn't flinch or crack a smile..stern as ever as he stared through the pickle at the offender, waiting for me to take action. Rightfully so, children shouldn't behave that way. The poor lad has a freak for a mother however, and I only laughed my blessed ass off...cah'mon..that there is funny!
I must tell you though, dinner with my offspring has, in the past, proven outright dangerous.
At some point, utensils are introduced to children. Saminator's early days with the spoon were indicative of his creative nature. It was tricky actually putting the food on the spoon, so he'd simply lower his mouth to the edge of the table and use the spoon to slide the food across the table and into his open mouth. Whatever works for ya brother :).
When the fork was introduced, his creative side kicked in again. He was quick to discover that the fork doubled as a weapon..and would whip it across the table. The Tall One, who sat directly across from him became a target..and Saminator found it rather amusing when The Tall One's eyes would bulge in shock as he used his cat like reflexes to dodge the flying four pronged spear. Dude had quite an arm on him for a toddler.
We've since managed to tame the wild man, but one should still be wary.
....there is always the possibility of some poor innocent sustaining injury...it could happen anytime, to anyone...
As with my Work Brotha JL... He was cutting into a piece of crispy battered fish when the end flew off and bounced off the neighbouring table, falling harmlessly to the floor. whew! That could have ended poorly! Seated at the next table where a gangly crew of railroad workers...no doubt looking for any excuse for fun. As it were, the only thing that got hurt was JL's pride as the 6 of us that watched on howled at his misfortune. Well, the 6 of us and the railroad crew...and a couple of people that witnessed from the bar. Nice one :)
We are sure to remind him of this on occasion. Because we luv him :)
We'll be sure to get a booth for my Work Brotha next time we take him in public..as I do with my boys.
No promises though.
Consider yourself warned.
Booths are a good idea in restaurants..food can fly off a fork at any given moment and the extra barrier provides somewhat adequate protection.
Somewhat.
I remember a shorter version of The Tall One winging an unwanted pickle across McDonald's. It landed on the biggest, scariest looking meathead's table. Splat.
I stifled a laugh, being the mature mother I am, and tried to act like I had no idea what just happen as I quietly scolded the little guy.
It was not the only pickle incident.
Recall the story told previously about Red flinging his pickle at the Duckman..and how it landed perfectly in the middle of one lens of his dark cool guy sunglasses...and stuck there. And how Duckman didn't flinch or crack a smile..stern as ever as he stared through the pickle at the offender, waiting for me to take action. Rightfully so, children shouldn't behave that way. The poor lad has a freak for a mother however, and I only laughed my blessed ass off...cah'mon..that there is funny!
I must tell you though, dinner with my offspring has, in the past, proven outright dangerous.
At some point, utensils are introduced to children. Saminator's early days with the spoon were indicative of his creative nature. It was tricky actually putting the food on the spoon, so he'd simply lower his mouth to the edge of the table and use the spoon to slide the food across the table and into his open mouth. Whatever works for ya brother :).
When the fork was introduced, his creative side kicked in again. He was quick to discover that the fork doubled as a weapon..and would whip it across the table. The Tall One, who sat directly across from him became a target..and Saminator found it rather amusing when The Tall One's eyes would bulge in shock as he used his cat like reflexes to dodge the flying four pronged spear. Dude had quite an arm on him for a toddler.
We've since managed to tame the wild man, but one should still be wary.
....there is always the possibility of some poor innocent sustaining injury...it could happen anytime, to anyone...
As with my Work Brotha JL... He was cutting into a piece of crispy battered fish when the end flew off and bounced off the neighbouring table, falling harmlessly to the floor. whew! That could have ended poorly! Seated at the next table where a gangly crew of railroad workers...no doubt looking for any excuse for fun. As it were, the only thing that got hurt was JL's pride as the 6 of us that watched on howled at his misfortune. Well, the 6 of us and the railroad crew...and a couple of people that witnessed from the bar. Nice one :)
We are sure to remind him of this on occasion. Because we luv him :)
We'll be sure to get a booth for my Work Brotha next time we take him in public..as I do with my boys.
No promises though.
Consider yourself warned.
Monday, April 5, 2010
One Step Forward and Two Steps Back
When I'm pregnant, I'm a friggin heffer....
This wide angle pic was taken the night before my fourth baby was born. I refuse to get on the scales after I hit 200lbs...which I did 3 out of 4 pregnancies. For someone who's a size 6..that's a lotta extra meat to be carrying around. And let's face it...the babies are less than 10 lbs a piece...
Mooooooo
It's not easy to do anything with all that weight...including sleep. I couldn't lie on my belly (duh), if I laid on my back I couldn't freaking breathe and if I tried either side, my hips ached.
But we had this oversized rocking/swivel chair (yes...it had to be oversized to fit my enormous ass), and if I pushed back just so that I was on a slight incline...I was comfortable. Hallefrickenlujah!
So the XX (reminder...that's hubs #2) got the idea to block up the chair on that incline for me, so that I could sleep.
Brilliant right?
Not so much....
Because when you are this flippin fat your bladder gets all squished and you have to pee frequently.
As with every other blasted night...the urge to pee came when the house was black and silent...everyone fast asleep.
And here's me...reclined in the chair....unable to get out... I can't hoist my belly over the side, the arms are too big, I can't reach the wooden block to kick it out from under, my legs are too short...and my back teeth are floatin I have to go so bad.
So I start calling for help...which eventually arrives.
Hardy harr
But isn't that a bit like life?
Things aren't easy, so you think you find a way to make yourself more comfortable, but you've overlooked the obvious.
Sometimes ya just have to bite the bullet and holler for help.
No matter how bad it is, how embarrassing...people that care will help you.
And you may end up back at square one again, but if you hang in there, keep trudging along...things will get better.
Eventually I had the baby.
And lost the weight.
S'all good.
Behave all :)
This wide angle pic was taken the night before my fourth baby was born. I refuse to get on the scales after I hit 200lbs...which I did 3 out of 4 pregnancies. For someone who's a size 6..that's a lotta extra meat to be carrying around. And let's face it...the babies are less than 10 lbs a piece...
Mooooooo
It's not easy to do anything with all that weight...including sleep. I couldn't lie on my belly (duh), if I laid on my back I couldn't freaking breathe and if I tried either side, my hips ached.
But we had this oversized rocking/swivel chair (yes...it had to be oversized to fit my enormous ass), and if I pushed back just so that I was on a slight incline...I was comfortable. Hallefrickenlujah!
So the XX (reminder...that's hubs #2) got the idea to block up the chair on that incline for me, so that I could sleep.
Brilliant right?
Not so much....
Because when you are this flippin fat your bladder gets all squished and you have to pee frequently.
As with every other blasted night...the urge to pee came when the house was black and silent...everyone fast asleep.
And here's me...reclined in the chair....unable to get out... I can't hoist my belly over the side, the arms are too big, I can't reach the wooden block to kick it out from under, my legs are too short...and my back teeth are floatin I have to go so bad.
So I start calling for help...which eventually arrives.
Hardy harr
But isn't that a bit like life?
Things aren't easy, so you think you find a way to make yourself more comfortable, but you've overlooked the obvious.
Sometimes ya just have to bite the bullet and holler for help.
No matter how bad it is, how embarrassing...people that care will help you.
And you may end up back at square one again, but if you hang in there, keep trudging along...things will get better.
Eventually I had the baby.
And lost the weight.
S'all good.
Behave all :)
Motivational Issues
I'm trying, I'm really, really trying....
The paperwork is here...the computer is on...but my mind is in a gazillion other places.
Outside for one.
It's beautiful out there. Light breeze blowing off the lake...warm sun...sigh....
Kinda makes trudging through dirt an okay activity.
And I'm thinking about houses by the beach, and fast cars, and McDreamy...about kids and vacation and parties...even cooking retreats and furniture.
I stare down at this fascinating list of submittal register items that needs review and I'm trying desperately to be interested. But I'm not.
pout
Motivational Issues.
I'm making cheesecake tonight. :)
I need to do some as built drawings......
McDreamy is taking me for lunch tomorrow and I'm gonna take him for a wee tour of the jobsite.
I need to set up a new RFI binder....
I'm going for a cig.
This is exhausting dudes....
The paperwork is here...the computer is on...but my mind is in a gazillion other places.
Outside for one.
It's beautiful out there. Light breeze blowing off the lake...warm sun...sigh....
Kinda makes trudging through dirt an okay activity.
And I'm thinking about houses by the beach, and fast cars, and McDreamy...about kids and vacation and parties...even cooking retreats and furniture.
I stare down at this fascinating list of submittal register items that needs review and I'm trying desperately to be interested. But I'm not.
pout
Motivational Issues.
I'm making cheesecake tonight. :)
I need to do some as built drawings......
McDreamy is taking me for lunch tomorrow and I'm gonna take him for a wee tour of the jobsite.
I need to set up a new RFI binder....
I'm going for a cig.
This is exhausting dudes....
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