Tag Archives: stories

You may never look at strawberries the same way again

strawberries

Sometimes I worry about sharing the absurdities in my household.

Wait, no I don’t, this is one of the main reasons I started blogging.

Backstory: Gary has all sorts of crazy sayings that he claims ‘everyone knows’. Most of them are not exactly family-rated (ok, I guess the Steely Dan post wasn’t either). This is one of the kids’ favorites. When you say something to aggravate him he tells you to…

“Jump up my ass and look for strawberries!”

No, I am not kidding. At first they tried to analyze what it meant. (scary) Then it just became a given.

Sunday morning phone call:

Gary: I am done with tennis, what do you want to do for breakfast.

Me: I am making french toast but I need strawberries.

Gary: Great, I will pick some up.

then he hesitates a moment and says:

Or… I could bend you over and pull them out of your ass.

Yeh, well maybe you had to be there. Or maybe you are calling social services as you read this. Forget about it, the younger one is 17. The damage is already done.

French toast anyone?

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Filed under absurdities, family, gary, humor

Time to (laugh till you) Cry Tuesday

Smoked Salmon Bagel

Jews were not meant to go without food.

It is a simple fact that without caloric intake, and surely caffeine, things can go haywire.

Big time.

Antics. That is the only way to explain the absurdity of the end of my day. Amy antics. To the nth degree.

Keep in mind that the patriarchs in the family are hearing about this for the first time with this blog post, so to my dad and father-in-law, sorry the bagels were not warmed up and really, it was all my fault.

Here goes. And understand that there is no way you could make this stuff up.

I, in my control freak fashion infinite kindness, tried to help my mother-in-law out by picking up the food for break fast and keeping it in my garage fridge so it would not spoil. On cooler days she can keep it on her terrace, but in the name of not wanting rancid smoked fish and egg salad, we offered to keep it here and bring it over to her house at 5 when my husband and the dads went back to closing services for Yom Kippur.

For reasons of logistics I was taking my dad’s car. I loaded the trunk, closed it and realized I had just…

locked the keys in the trunk!

Yeh, well that did not suck much. I was going to run to my parents house (35 minutes away) to get another set of keys when my mother-in-law, in her infinite wisdom suggested AAA. The fact that she was not ready to kill me at this point is truly amazing.

I begged the guy on the phone to get here ASAP telling him how my dad was going to kill me. Then promptly told him how old I was when he replied, “hey, I am 62 and I am still afraid of my mother! She used to chase me with a wooden spoon.” Alrighty, then.

Sure enough they sent a locksmith within in the hour.

My man Andre! Oh, how I loved him. Especially when we found out that the trunk release button did not work unless the key was in the ignition. If you are still with me here, THE KEYS WERE IN THE DAMN TRUNK. He used the little entry to the trunk through the armrest in the back seat and somehow navigated around platters and bagels and kugels to find those keys. And during it all gave some sage-like advice about some higher reason why we should not be where we were supposed to be at that moment and that is why this happened.

Zen locksmith.

And then it started to rain.

Luckily we got there about 15 minutes before the starving temple guys and made a quick effort of getting it all together.

Sorry dad, but don’t worry, the car is fine. Thanks to my mother-in-law for being such a good sport and my mom for staying calm and sharing a good (nervous) laugh through it all.

Moral of the story:

Stay out of it and risk the rancid fish on the terrace.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Filed under absurdities, family, holidays, humor, Time to Cry Tuesdays

Lawn Ornament Afterparty

lawn-ornament-afterparty

I pass these three every morning on my walk. Today I felt compelled to share them with you. 

I simply love each one of them. Here is my take on the scenario:

Froggy: good chance he just did one of the bunnies. What, not what you were expecting? C’mon, look at that smug look on his face and his satiated stance. What else could have gone on here?

Bunny in the middle: Thinking this one was a witness not a participant. Seems kind of rejected or perhaps embarrassed.

Bunny on the right: Yep, this one looks pretty chipper and flirty.

What concerns me a little bit about sharing this with you all is the fact that I am starting to spill the contents of my warped mind into the blogosphere at a staggering rate. 

Oh, that and that fact that I am listed in some places as a mom blogger. Hey, nothing wrong with a little birds and bees lesson now and then. Or frogs and bunnies if you will. And the  co-mingling of species is a nice piece on tolerance. All in all I think this is a lovely little parenting post.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone

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Filed under absurdities, carry a camera, humor, moms, photography, sex