Category Archives: Humor

The Effect of a Typical Day

Today’s post is brought to you by my


and his


He had a little fun taking photos of it and using those photo warping apps on it….

A fresh new day!

Full of possibilities, enthusiasm, the world is yours!

No dish will be left unwashed, no corner uncleaned, no job undone!

Smiley 1

And then the effects of the typical day,

whether at work

or at home chasing children

(which is a ton of work, by the way)

take their toll,

the day wears you down,

and your left feeling just a little….

Smiley 2

Luckily, you know that after a good nights sleep,

and quite possibly a hefty dose of chocolate therapy,

you can feel like this again in the morning…

Smiley 1


(or at least the two-year-old)


Filed under Humor, Parenting

Just a Bit of Silliness

I love writing games. 

Of course, I love writing.

My favorite writing game is the one where you write a little bit and fold the paper covering everything but a one or two word lead in. The results can be absolutely hilarious.

Friday night Paul and I were on one of our famously fun dates.

Only, it wasn’t as famously fun as usual because we forgot to bring a card game with us.

We almost ALWAYS play a card game or something on dates – especially when we’re eating out –

but we’ve been known to play just about anywhere…

waiting for a movie to start…

waiting in a really long line for something…

waiting for contractions to kick in and get that baby outta there…

Just about anything that takes any amount of waiting requires a card game

which results in LOTS of LAUGHS

and strange looks from many people – which make us laugh even harder.

Only, Friday night we forgot the game.


I had a pad of paper and I found out that my Husby likes to make up stories – write stories

We’ve been married 14 years and I did not know this!

Shame on me.

(Apparantly he said he doesn’t mention it because he has no time to give it a whirl, so I’m not COMPLETELY lame – just partially lame)

Anyway, that got me thinking about my FAVORITE writing game…

and I remembered I had a pad of paper in my purse.

Well, of course I pulled out that pad of paper and we got to writing….

The resulting story had us laughing so hard we were in tears and I decided it HAD to be shared…

It’s very short (hey, the notebook has to be small enough to fit in my purse for crying out loud)

My part is in PINK with the lead in words in GREEN

Paul’s Part is in BLUE with the lead in words in GREEN

Remember, we don’t see anything that the other person has written except for the lead in words.

Alice stood on the porch railing trying to balance herself.  She grabbed the toothpick and broke it in two. Now he had nothing to poke into her nose to get the rock out. She pressed one nostril and blew. The stone flew across the grass and hit John square in the forehead. He laughed at the attempt to keep him restrained. Nothing could stop him now. His goal was in sight and she gasped in dismay. The love of her life disgraced forever. What could she do? He ran his fingers through her hair and realized it was too late to stop her. The deed was done. Forever would they live lives of love lost.

We decided that we had so much fun with that one we had to do another one. It turned out completely warped and rather funny too…

The sun was setting as Randy strode into the yard. He could not believe the luck he had. His bag burst open and twenty frogs escaped. Desperately he tied his donkey to the hitching post and headed for the house. His mind raced as he tried to think of the place where he had stabbed her big toe. The scar blazed white against her skin, marking her as an undesirable. She had now way to hide her deformity. She must never know the truth. Her life and that of their son depended on his ability to walk on lava. He would never succeed in breaking the curse and bringing equality to the land. He shook his head and took her back inside. As they entered the house he thought he heard a distant rifle shot. It might already be too late. Now she had no choice.

Personally, I just like the idea of John being restrained by a nostril flung pebble….

that’s just pure


right there!

1 Comment

Filed under Humor, Love and Marriage, Writing

The Unexpected Smile

I love that moment when you’re walking along and smile at some unsuspecting person.

You don’t know them.

You just smile because it’s nice.

You try to be happy and hope to make others happy.

And then that surprised smile of being smiled at springs onto their faces.

If it were a cartoon it would


at the edges.

And your innerds grow warm and you know that if Superman were around he’d be able to see them glowing inside.

There’s just something special about a smile. 

My husband promised to always make me laugh – and smile – he promised that too.

And he does – everyday.

The amazing thing about my husband is that he doesn’t just make me laugh

he strives to make everybody laugh

or at the very least


There is nothing like watching that expected smile BOING onto someone’s face.

Wherever we are he’ll manage to meet the gaze of someone who looks a bit down and his face will explode into an amazing smile and he’ll say, “Hi!” or “Hello!” And they look somewhat startled at the sound of his cheery voice but there is nothing as contagious as a smile and before long they are grinning and saying, “Why, hell0!” or “Oh! Hi!”

He calls every person we meet with a name tag by name – the gal ringing up the grocers, the guy waiting tables.

It’s amazing, the smile that springs on their faces when he calls them by name and grins at them.

He teases – hands them the debit card and then flicks it away a few times before surrendering it and they laugh or smile and he says,

“Made ya laugh” or “made ya smile”.

I laugh and shake my head and love him even more. I think about how long of a day some of those workers have had and some of the rude people they have had to put up with and I love that my husby goes out of his way to put a smile on their faces and give them a bright (and usually silly) spot in the day.

Old, young, adult, child, or teen – Paul can manage to coax a smile out of anybody.

In fact, I overheard someone once say about my husby, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him NOT smiling” which really made me SMILE!

And I thought of one of my favorite quotes:

“Happiness is like jam. You can’t spread even a little without getting some one yourself.” 

And since I ALWAYS get sticky fingers when it comes to jam, I can relate really well to this (of course it usually because one of my charming children used it and got jam all over the OUTSIDE of the jar – ha ha).

So, the next time it’s been a long wait in the grocery store line,

the person ahead of you had coupon after coupon, half of them didn’t work right, and they had to argue with the person working the register over every single one.

Okay, I’m exagerating, but you’ve all been there – or someplace similar –

and you finally get there and the clerk gives a tightlip smile as they apologize, waiting for you to lash out on incompetance and how long the line was.

Give a smile a try.

You can see them cringing inside (after all, they saw you rolling your eyes at how LONG everything was taking), waiting for the final straw to make today their worst day EVER

and then you




and say,

“Hey, no problem, my mom taught me patience.”


“My special super hero power is patience in long lines.”

And the tight-lipped panicked smile relaxes into a full fledged smile that BOINGS on the edges and there go your innerds again, glowing  and blinding superman.

In fact, you feel a little like Superman’s side kick.

Making the world better.

One Smile at a Time!


Filed under Every Day Life, Humor

A Bushel of Trouble – 100WCGU #58

This week’s prompt is “…as the apple fell…”

Feel free to click the 100WC icon to read other stories or participate.


Alice leaned against the side of the weathered stone bridge and peered into the creek. John loved to goad her into a temper. With a sigh, she turned, pulled an apple from her pocket and polished it on her sleeve. Gentle voices from the base of the bridge caught her attention. She looked over the side and spied John and Felicia, their fingers entwined.  Her hands slackened in shock. Time slowed as the apple fell and knocked  John on the head. Alice gasped, and dropped to the ground, pressing her back against the rough stones, but not before she met John’s startled, impish eyes.


Filed under 100 Word Challenge, Humor, Writing

A Bit about James

Each of our children has had a very distinct personality:

Lizy was the quiet one who had a goofy streak and a temper.

Dot is the social, strong willed, nutty one.

Emily is the sweet bubbly, always smiling one.

Jacob is the class clown goofball type.

Robert is still a little young to know for sure, but he tends to be a little more on the serious side  – though he can giggle with the best of them.

But, James is the ultimate


Throw him on a slice of bread with swiss cheese and you could just gobble him up.

He loves making you laugh, and he knows just how to do it.

He was the one who started the underwear ninjas at our house among the boys – he came bounding out of his room with his underwear on his head pearing out one hole. He struck his most serious ninja pose and said:

“I am a ninja.”

And I dissolved into laughter

(at least the underwear was clean).

Jacob soon followed suit and soon both boys were running around as underwear ninjas.

Last spring just before he [finally] potty trained, I changed his pull-up one morning and sent him off to the bathroom before putting a clean one on. As he went, he wiggled his wee little naked bum all the way to the bathroom, singing:

“Shake your booty.”

“Shake your booty.”

I giggled.

A lot!

He has this funny thing with clothes. (though he’s finally starting grow out of it now that he’s in underwear). He will wear all the shirts in his drawer – at once – and


One morning I was talking with a neighbor in the driveway and he came running out with nothing on but a cape and his diaper – oh, and socks on his hand. He zoomed around us a few times as I tried not to be mortified before dissapearing inside the house. My neighbor patted me on the shoulder, laughing, and said,

“It’s ok. He’s a boy.”

He rolls, tumbles, dives, climbs and has the goofiest, cheesiest grin and faces. His please face would put all puppy dogs to shame. And his pirate roar would make everyone tremble.

And he’s my Glue.

I nicknamed him that because he just sticks to me – the ultimate snuggler and in these months since Lizy, I am even more grateful for those snuggles. He’ll scootch right up to me and say

“I am your glue.” 

So, that is James in a nutshell:

my Ham & Cheese sandwich.

All of my kids are amazing and I am so blessed to be their mom. 😀

1 Comment

Filed under Bobert, Children, Em, Humor, Jacob, James, Lizy

Problem Solving 101

To all toddlers…..

Feeling thirsty?

Too small to pour yourself a drink of water?

Or, perhaps, you just ran out of cups…

Robert demonstrates the perfect solution….

Step 1: Obtain and insert straw

Step 2: Grasp straw firmly in hand – puckering up in preparation is key

Robert Drinking from Pitcher

Step 3: Drink away

Step 4: Smile for the Camera and congratulate you on a job well done!

Hints:  A chair with a booster seat strapped to it helps a lot.

Take advantage of the oportunity to blow copious bubbles after your drink – you’ll look so adorable your mom won’t tell you “no” & there’s a lid on the pitcher, so you won’t make mess (stay on her good side).

*Mom’s Note:

This happened this morning after breakfast. The girls had left the pitcher of water on the table, and Robert must have been thirsty. He’d snagged straws from various water bottles and stuck them into the pitcher spout. Paul found him, and called me down to take a look & to bring the camera. He was quite proud of himself, adorable little tyke. 😀


Filed under Bobert, Children, Every Day Life, Humor


It took me a while, but I finally caught a photo of Spit in the sink.

You have NO idea, how badly I wanted to write that.


Let me explain….

My husband created a monster.

Ok, well, maybe I helped.

It all started when Spit (short of Spitfire) was little.

She REFUSED to drink from her bowl – she’dwash her paws in it, get the water dirty and not want to drink any.

One morning she sat on the counter staring at the the water running from the sink as he washed his hands. He filled the sink bowl.

From that point on, she would ONLY drink from the sink.

We thought when we moved we might be able to change it.

But no, she just sleeps or sits in the sink now – waiting for us…


And when we come she drinks straight from the tap.


Silly finicky cat.

It’s a BATTLE every time I’m in the bathroom.

I understand fighting for bathroom space with teenage daughters and such, but the CAT?

Forget locking the door to keep the kids out – I do it to keep the Cat out!

If I don’t, we’re fight to see who gets the water from the faucet when I go to wash my hands, or brush my teeth.

We’ve tried not encouraging her, but the kids take pity.

Or her meowing sounds pathetic.

And we’re quite convinced she’d rather die of thirst than drink out of a lowly bowl on the floor.

Maybe we should have named her

Sheba – as in Queen of.

*At least she hasn’t tried to drink from the toilet like our pet squirrel did, God rest his soul.


Filed under Humor, Pets

Stranded (100WCGU #30)

Time for another 100 word challenge! Yay! This weeks prompt was: “it wasn’t my fault”

It never crossed my mind that something had gone horribly wrong until my fiancé dumped my body unceremoniously in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I suppose the correct term would be EX-fiance. I lay flat on my face. The gritty dirt left me feeling like I’d been licking a cast iron pot. A strange whistling sound faded in and out- a rock had lodged in my left nostril. I couldn’t remember what I’d done, but I was sure it wasn’t my fault. It’d be a hundred years before I’d be discovered. I wondered what they’d classify me as… homo sapien idioticus crossed my mind.

*Check out the other entries! And my kids will be participating in this one too (eventually).


Filed under 100 Word Challenge, Humor, Writing

I’ll Take that Flight with a Little Bit of Crazy, Please

*This is a true account – I promise, for once, I didn’t exaggerate a single thing.

I first noticed her when she sped by the line of passengers waiting to board pushing a double stroller with twins and a middle-aged woman plodding along behind her. She had that self-satisfied strut, her large hips swinging. Her nose stabbed into the air so high, I wondered if she had a turd under it.

I paid her little mind until I boarded the plane and found that I would be sitting across the aisle. Her scathing words flustered the unfortunate flight attendant to distraction.

I felt at once embarrassed for this woman and humored. It was as though I had stumbled onto a comedy film set with an over done stereotype.  The stepmother in “A Cinderella Story” (starring Hillary Duff) came to mind. She even looked similar. Surely someone, at any moment would pop out and say, “Smile! You’re on candid camera!”

Her voice dripped in overconfidence and condemnation with an accent that pretended to be upper class.

“Now, you just take your time, Miss T, and don’t let anyone rush you,” she addressed the nanny who was wrestling  overstuffed bags into the overhead compartments. She glanced around at the flight attendant, attempting to offer assistance, and bullied her out of the way. “You don’t let anyone get you stressed out.”

At this point, I tuned the woman out and muttered under my breath, while my neighbor chuckled heartily. “I don’t think the nanny is the one stressing out.”

After a healthy round of musical chairs, while the flight attendant tried to arrange the unyielding woman, her two-year-old twins, and the nanny into safe positions (because of airbags and such), the entire back half of the plane was choking back giggles of horrified astonishment.

I pulled out my magazine, swapped a discreet eye roll with the tall athletic man seated beside me and delved in, hoping the excitement was finally over and we could move on with a peaceful (and thankfully) short flight.

My hope was short lived.

Our characters played out like this:

The mom, with the two-year-old girl on her lap seated across the aisle and one row up from me. Beside her sat a very unfortunate teen-aged girl.

In front of me sat a man with dark hair and beside him at the window the friend of my window-seat companion.

Across from me was the nanny – same age as the mother, I guessed them to be somewhere in their forties. She held the two-year-old boy and beside her sat a rather unfortunate middle aged gentleman.

Behind us was one (maybe two) rows of men pitying the rest of us.

I had only read a sentence or two when the nanny caught my attention. “Do you have a pen or pencil?” She signaled to the boy on her lap. “I thought I’d let him draw.”

With a slight eyebrow raise I dug out my pen and handed it to her and realized she didn’t have anything but the in-flight magazine for him to draw on. I fetched a few papers from my writing notebook and handed them over. I quickly realized that they had nothing for these poor kids to do and expected them to be magically entertained during the  90 minute flight.

I began reading my magazine just as the mother turned and held out her hand asking me my name.  She gave me a half handshake, her fingers curling daintily over my fingers. The little girl won my affection for a few moments of adorable peek-a-boo before I dove into my magazine… again.

I didn’t get too far. The conversation flying between the mother and nanny was too captivating. Every ten seconds the mother got after the two-year-old on her lap for pestering the teen-age girl beside her, who was feigning sleep (wish I had thought of that). In the lulls the nanny and mother were flinging backhanded compliments at each other like tennis pros.

Then the flight attendant began her trip down the aisle with the drink cart. The mother whacks the nanny on the knee. “Miss T, do you have the sippy cups?”

Miss T pointed to the overhead compartments. “Up there.”

The mother got to her feet, plopping the two-year-old down in the seat to terrorize the teenager some more. After a few minutes of digging, insulting, and driving the poor man she’s leaning over completely nuts, she looked at the nanny. “Which bag?”

“The other one.”

This sent me giggling into my magazine.

Sippy cups retrieved, she plunked back into her seat – thankfully, she remembered to remove the two-year-old first. By now the twins were getting bored and unruly. Both women tried to discipline while contradicting the other.

The drink cart drew closer and the mom reached back and whacked the nanny on the knee again. “Would you like some adult juice, Miss T?”

My head popped out of the magazine like a jack in the box about to be run over by a mac truck. Did I seriously just hear that? A mother offering her NANNY alcohol at ten o’clock in the morning?

I gulped down the healthy dose of judgement racing through my veins and delved back into my magazine. The drink cart came along and I couldn’t help a glance. Sure enough, the nanny snagged a bottle.

The flight  finally drew to a close. The intermittent shrieks and wails from the kids were nothing compared to the growing barrage of over-the-top behavior from the adults.  Every other sentence from the mother was about her father, apparently a pilot, who would set the flight attendants straight and what not. I tried to be polite and nice to the kids, as did the others around me. I suppose we all kind of liked kids and felt supremely sorry for them.

The nanny waved her hand in my face, capturing my attention. I glanced up into her red grinning face as she lurched from side to side. “Heaven help me, she’s drunk!” I thought to myself. (She had snagged a couple more bottles while I was trying not to be judgemental and reading my magazine.)

She stuck her hand out. “I want to thank you for being so nice.” Her words were thick and slurred as she seized my unwilling hand. “I don’t mind a proper handshake. I’m from Kentucky and we do things proper there. None of this limp stuff.” I managed to extract my hand before she shook my arm from my body.

My thoughts reeled through my head. “This woman is beyond drunk. She’s PLASTERED!!

I watched in mounting horror as she proceeded to hit on the gentleman beside her, who now was holding the boy so he could look out the window. Her arm snaked around the back of his neck as she breathed heavily liquored words into his face. “You’re so nice. Thanks for being so understanding.”

The mother turned in her seat slightly. “You picking up another man, Miss T?”

The man leaned his head back and shot me a desperate eye-rolling  “save me” look  at which all I could do was shake my head sympathetically. She proceeded to pull out her phone and type in, what I assumed (or desperately hoped anyway) was some bogus phone number.

The nanny continued plastering herself on the man with loud smacks and fingers in his hair as he cringed further and further into the window.

At one point, in response to some comment I missed from the nanny, the man said, “You’re over paid.”

The nanny, laughing as though it were the greatest joke she’d ever heard, flung a hand up on the mother’s shoulder. “He thinks I’m over paid,” she squealed as they dissolved into laughter.

The captain made the announcement of final descent and the mother glanced around at us. She pointed in turn at the teenager, myself, and the middle aged man. “I want to thank you, and you, and you for being so understanding of my children.My father is an airline pilot and I’m going to be sure you each receive a free complimentary ticket.”

“Yeah right.” I mumbled and the man beside me, who had to take his earphones off (again, why didn’t I think of that??) smothered a laugh.

“You just check your mailbox and don’t be surprised when a ticket appears.” Then she jabbed the man in front of me in the shoulder. “But not you. I seen your eye rolls and rude faces. I don’t know if you don’t have kids–”

He sent her a withering look. “Oh, I have kids. I just know how to take care of them.”

We all silently cheered. Completely unabashed she and her nanny railed on him the rest of the way as we taxied to the gate. The seat belt light flashed off and the nanny said the first decent thing I’d heard all morning from either of them, all be it horribly slurred. “Now, let’s just wait here while everyone–”

“Nonsense.” The indignant mother surged to her feet. “I have just as much right as anyone else here. They can wait for me, just as easy as I can wait for them.”

None of us budged. We all sat, waiting for them to LEAVE. They managed to free their bags after a five minute struggle and stood, waiting to disembark. The nanny accidentally hit the unfortunate soul who wouldn’t be receiving an airline ticket on the shoulder.

“Oh pardon me if I hit your shoulder with my coat zipper,” she said and continued to thunk it irritatingly into his neck and shoulder.

I smothered a disbelieving guffaw. Hand over my mouth I struggled to hold back the barrage of insane laughter as they made their loud brash way down the aisle and off the plane.

I stood and turned glancing at my fellow passengers. Unable to hold back the tide any longer I burst into gales of laughter. The others joined me, relief flooding the cabin. I turned to the middle aged man. “I have to say, I admire your amazing patience through all of that.”

He gave a rueful smile and chuckled.

“Hey, I was fine, until she started kissing me!”


Filed under Humor

All I want(ed) for Christmas is (was) a Toilet Seat


What a lovely Christmas we had!

And birthday too, as James turned 4 two days after. I will write about that later though.

We had our traditional re-enactment of the Christmas Story on Christmas Eve – which turns out more COMEDY than seriousness – but I think they still get the message of the true meaning of Christmas.

See Below:

2011 Christmas Collage 1

First Jacob looks like he’s doing some sort of crazy bizarre thing.

Then Dad is giving him a talking to while James looks like he’s about to pounce on Emily.

Finally they all manage a quick smile.

Then Dad insists that Mom hop in the picture and Jacob spreads his angel wings.

So that is reminiscent of the whole evening – as you can see here:

2011 Christmas Collage 2

I think that the idea of Jacob as the angel was amusing in and of itself as he tends to CAUSE (and get into) the MOST trouble

After we sent them off to bed “Santa” came…

2011 Christmas Collage 3

2011 Christmas Collage 4

Christmas morning dawned with EXCITEMENT and FUN


2011 Christmas Collage 5

The boys LOVED the quilts that I managed to throw together in five days

(silly me, thinking that I had plenty of time…)

And Dad loved his presents, apparantly….

2011 Christmas Collage 7

But the FUNNIEST moment of the days was when…

The kids opened up their brand new toilet seat!

2011 Christmas Collage 6

So, the story…

A few days before Christmas the toilet seat in the kids’ bathroom broke. While Paul and I were out Christmas shopping we bought a new one.

That night, as we went through our stash and tallied things up, we pulled the toilet seat from the pile.

“What if,”  my husband suggested, “we give it to the kids for Christmas.”

“Oh, that would be a riot!” I exclaimed.

So we did, and it was.

Though Dot had to ask,

“Is it clean?”


Filed under Bobert, Children, Dot, Em, Every Day Life, Humor, Jacob, James, Lizy