Wordless Wednesday

Good Mail Lifts Spirits - Thanks Sara!

Last week was a rough one for me; Thursday was especially hard. But when I got home, there was a little something awaiting me in the mailbox. Amidst the bills and the junk was the cutest envelope ever, from Sara at My Sippy Cup Runneth Over and Momma Findings. Inside was a little something meant to lift my spirits.

Sara and I both belong to the Good Mail group; and Thursday I received my first piece of 'good mail'. It's funny how these things tend to arrive at a time when they are most needed.

Thank you Sara!! Your 'good mail' put a much needed smile on my face.

A Family Meal

I have an eleven year old who loves to cook.

This works out perfectly for me because I hate to cook; so I have no qualms letting her cook our dinner each night.

Well, that’s not exactly true…..I may have one or two complaints: the first being that she always makes a huge mess and never cleans it up.

She loves to cook but hates to clean – not a good combination.

I’m not talking about a little dribble over the pan, or a splatter here and there; I’m talking about an explosion! Sauce everywhere - all over the edge of the pan, all over the stove, covering the entire spoon, on the walls, etc.

How does one get sauce on the walls anyway??

When I asked her this exact question, she said it was from ‘tapping’ the spoon against the edge of the pan.

Really?? I know I’m not much of a cooker but when I do cook I often tap my spoon against the pan and I’ve never managed to get sauce all over the walls like this……She must have the strength of Godzilla.

She also often ‘forgets’ to put ingredients back where she got them from; that is unless she isn’t supposed to be using them – like the spices.

I have told her, on numerous occasions, that there is no need for her to be seasoning the food. It’s usually already pre-seasoned and if it does need seasoning I want to help her with that, to ensure she doesn’t use too much.

Have I mentioned that I’m an extremely picky eater??

I love that she loves to cook. I love to let her cook because that means I won’t have to do it. I can even deal with the messes – a little bit. But I can not eat food that doesn’t taste good or has too much of something in it – like salt. BLECH!!

Last night she cooked Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo. I know it sounds impressive but it’s really no big deal. It’s a pre-packaged, pre-seasoned meal (Hamburger Helper or in this case Chicken Helper).

All you do is heat up the chicken, add water to the noodles and sauce, then mix them together; simple, right??? I even bought pre-cooked, pre-cut chicken.

8:00 pm – “Dinner is served.” She announces from the kitchen.

We are all sitting around the dinner table, eating this meal that my little chef has prepared for us and, after a couple of bites, I notice that it has a sweet taste to it so I casually ask, “What did you season this with?”

“Nothing.” She tells me, knowing that she isn’t supposed to be putting extra seasonings in our food without my assistance.

“Yes you did. It has a sweet taste to it. Chicken Alfredo isn’t supposed to taste sweet.” I explain as I catch a whiff of something familiar. I lift a spoon-full up to my bloodhound nose **sniff-sniff** Yep! I now know exactly what the ‘extra’ ingredient is and so I ask her again what she seasoned it with.

“I only used pepper” she tells me.

Looking at the little brown specks in the meal I tell her, “This isn’t pepper. I don’t see any pepper in here. Go get the pepper that you used and show it to me.”

She walks over to the stove and brings back our pepper grinder. I open it to see if someone accidentally put something besides pepper in there but it was empty. I show her that it’s empty and I twist it a little to see what – if anything – comes out. Sure enough, a couple of pepper crumbs fall into my hand. I show them to her, letting her see that nothing like that is present in the chicken.

She then tells me that she used a little season salt.

“Are you sure it was season salt? It doesn’t taste like season salt, it tastes sweet. Go get everything that you used and show me.”

She goes back to the cabinet and brings me the season salt. She will not admit that she may have messed up and put something else – something that she thought was season salt but it really wasn’t – into the meal.

I have been discussing these types of ‘fibs’ with her since she was old enough to talk. I can not tell you how many times, throughout her eleven short years, she has gotten herself into trouble by telling a lie that wasn’t even necessary.

Lies are not good – no matter the reason behind them. I can.not.stand. a liar! (That’s one of my ‘hot’ buttons) And the ones this child tells are just plain stupid.

I’m not fussing at her. I’m not even mad. I know that she messed up. I know that it was an accident. I just want her to admit it.

I explain all of these things to her as I walk over to the spice cabinet and pull out the one that I know she used, I show her the container and I tell/ask her directly, “Isn’t this the one you used?”

“Yes ma’am”

FINALLY!

“Okay, why didn’t you just say that or admit it when I first asked? We are all human. We all make mistakes from time to time. It’s okay to make mistakes but you will never learn from your mistakes if you won’t even admit to making them.” I explain to her, for the umpteenth time, and I sit back down at the table and we finish our Chicken Fettuccini Cinnamon Alfredo.

Freaky Friday or Saturday, as the case may be...

It was a stormy Saturday night. The girls were away for the night and we had a party to attend.

We dressed in our hippest threads, complete with my black hooker boots. I was looking as good as a girl my size can look.

On the way to the party I thought it might be a good idea for us to stop somewhere and grab me a bite to eat.

I knew they would have food, but I also know that the odds were not in my favor for liking what they had - being the worlds pickiest eater and all.

However, we have been to their house on numerous occasions and they've usually had something there that I would eat, so I didn't voice my concerns.

An empty stomach and six apple martinis later the hooker boots had been shed and it was time for us to go back to the safety of our house.

Note that they were small glasses so, in all actuality, I probably only had three regular sized drinks; the only thing is that I don't usually drink and three is definitely my limit - with food!

We arrive home safely and I decide that I'm going to play sexy for the husband. It's funny how a few of those drinks can make you feel like you've got your sexy back.

I'm lying on the bed, in my 'I'm so sexy' pose, waiting for him to finish getting everything in order and come into the bedroom.

Upon his arrival he looks at me, all sprawled out draped across the bed, and with a shocked look says, "what are you doing?" while quickly crawling into the bed beside me, to take advantage my drunken stooper this opportunity before it passes him by.

As I go to respond, still trying to maintain my 'sexiness',I fling my right hand high above my head only to smack it VERY HARD against the headboard.

OUCH!!!

Fortunately, I had enough drinks in me so as to lessen the pain - a little. But don't get me wrong. IT HURT!!!

The next day, when we woke up, he rolled over and accidentally grazed my hand, sending a shooting pain signal up to my brain, quickly reminding me of my not so graceful sexiness of the night before.

It's now a week later and my hand is starting to turn a lovely shade of greenish yellow, and it still hurts to the touch.

All I can say is....I hope he had fun because it doesn't look like I'll be drinking anymore apple martinis for a while - wouldn't want him to start 'expecting' this sort of activity ;)

Bye Amy! Have a great Trip!!

I recently stumbled across a wonderful new blogging buddy named Amy from In My Life. You may remember she tagged me for a meme just last week...

Anyway, Amy was recently blessed by her friend Melissa with a once in a lifetime dream trip to the to the Mediterranean. WOW!! How awesome is that??

She had some anxiety about going - and who could blame her, after all she will be gone from her family, friends and loved ones for 24 days. But, in the end she knew this was an opportunity that she couldn't let pass her by and everyone who knows and loves her was encouraging her to take the trip - she deserves it!!

Amy,

Those of us who know and love you through blogland will miss your funny, inspirational, uplifting and your positive spin on life posts while you're away but we are all so happy that for you. I can't wait to see the picture of you writing your name in the sand.

Have a great trip!


PS. Don't eat the frog legs. HA!!

The Proceedings

I've told you about the impending divorce.

That sad and gloomy day will be upon me before I know it and much sooner than I would like.

He didn't ask for my opinion on the matter and was shocked when he learned that I had found out before he could tell me himself.

I'm not happy about it but I don't begrudge him better opportunities.

Today we had our all day divorce proceedings. We had to decide how things are going to be maintained without him around anymore.

It was a very long day!

At the end of the day, I walked away with custody of his child but without the benefit of child support.

He claims he'll still be around for me when I need him, but not to get mad if it takes him a while to respond. He won't be able to drop everything to help me out.

OUCH! There's a harsh dose of reality.

This is really happening. **GULP** My work husband is leaving me. **GULP-GULP** I'm not ready to be alone. **GULP-SNIFFLE-GULP**

I know that this is an amazing opportunity for me to learn a new skill set, making me more marketable for future advancement within the company; but that doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye. :(

Reason 999 Why I HATE Public Bathrooms!

We have been having bathroom drama at work for the past few weeks and with my LOVE of public restrooms I thought I would rant about my frustrations share my story with you.

Apparently they have changed our cleaning crew and the lady that we used to have - who kept everything nice and stocked at all times for us - was let go when this new company took over.

Now, you should know that the floor I work on is a training floor; meaning the ladies restroom on that floor is an extremely busy place!

The problem is, since this new company has arrived, the ladies restroom has not been receiving the attention that it needs to remain functional. For the past two weeks we've had no paper towels in the dispenser; there were several a few days when we had no paper towels at all and we probably still wouldn't if someone I had not put a roll in there. We've had no back up toilet paper, they haven’t refilled our hand soap - I think I got the last squirt this evening - and we’re almost out of seat covers.

I have been complaining to politely informing our maintenance engineer of our bathroom woes every day for the last two weeks - with the exception of the days that I was out of town - I'm sure he is so sick of just loves me!!

By now I'm sure you are all aware of my feelings regarding public bathrooms...

HATE THEM!!!

I understand that it's a natural bodily function that we all must have, but that doesn't make it any easier for me when the time comes that I actually need to visit the dreaded public facility. **Shudder**

What if I have a natural bodily function and make an accidental noise??

What if someone KNOWS what I'm doing in here??

What if it makes a splashing sound??

What if it stinks??

Should I flush or don't flush??

If you flush, but you don't come out then they WILL KNOW what you're doing; on the other hand, if you don't flush the smell may linger longer and then they WILL KNOW what you're doing.

Should I spray or don't spray??

If you spray, they might hear the spray and then they WILL KNOW what you're doing; on the other hand, if you don't spray it may stink and the smell may linger longer and then they WILL KNOW what you're doing.

The list for my love of public restrooms goes on and on...

If I MUST use a public restroom - and I drink nothing but water all.day.long. so it is inevitable that I do have to go, many times, throughout the day - I MUST have a seat cover; because, for some reason, women have trouble hitting the actual bowl and they sprinkle on the seat. Upon finishing, I MUST have toilet tissue and, once finished, I MUST have soap to wash my hands. I realize that many people just run their hands under the water and call it all good but I am not one of them! After I was my hands - with the soap and water - I MUST have paper towels to dry them.

NONE of which are being stocked with our new cleaning crew - which makes it even more insufferable than usual.

When I was in Georgia I had another bathroom scare.

My nerves were jumbled and there was a rumbly going on in tummy. I was afraid the inevitable was upon me so I went into their bathroom. Upon discovering that it was not open to the general public, it was clean, AND no one else had access when it was occupied I felt a little more relieved.

I sat down and THAT'S when I saw it.

It's by far, the scariest thing I've ever seen in a work bathroom.

I've heard that some people have them in their bathrooms at home but I NEVER expected to see one in a place of business.

It scared me so bad, I forgot all about the rumbly in my tummy. I hurriedly finished and got out of there as quickly as possible.

I told my girlfriend, Katie, about my bathroom scare and she asked me if I stepped on it.

"NO WAY!" I said.

"Good Girl!" She replied.

"I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I'm not STU-PID!!"

There was NO.WAY.IN.HELL that I was stepping my fat ass on that scale!

As it is, I'll probably have nightmares for weeks to come...