Pants need a zipper...

I have to share a funny moment.
I took cake decorating classes with a buddy of mine as an outlet away from kids and home. Our tradition was to go out to eat before class in Monroe, since we live in a podunk town without any true restaurants.
Anyway, we ate Chinese one night before a class and I was STUFFED!! When we got to class, I had to unbutton the top of my pants when I sat down for the class to allow room for a little comfort.
The class went on and ended without a hitch. I packed my stuff into my various bags and covered the cake I just decorated.
I took out my keys and put them into my hand, then we loaded our hands and arms to the elbow.
The class is in a room at the back of the store and we began the trek to the front with our load.
I felt a small rip of my zipper.
No need to panic right?
zzzz...a little more
umm....ok, I'm ok....
zzzz.....

So, here's the deal. That last "zzzz" was the last of my zipper. It was the last of any support that my pants were given.
I could feel my pants giving way to the sway of my hips. I told Lesa.
She looked down and began to giggle.
Thanks!
Her hands were full too.
UGH!
Another sway of the hips and my rear end was now not enough "booty" to keep them afloat!
We are now at the entrance of the store and I only have to make it to the car.
I began to think like the little train that said, "I think I can. I think I can."

So, with great ambition, I bent my knees and opened them wide and began to walk.....like a duck!

I waddled....
The pants slid....
I waddled wider....
They paused just above the hem of my t-shirt....

I was in a full on panic mode now and whispering loudly to Lesa to walk behind me.
She would have helped more, but she was too busy.
Too busy laughing.
She was practically pointing with her arm full of things. She was bent over a little trying not to pee on herself.
Gee thanks!
I too was laughing, which made the whole open legged duck waddle a little less effective and a whole lot more funny! Especially since I was panicking which made me pick up speed.
(just a note: laughter and speed are not good for the waddle)

I was about two cars from my car when it happened.

They fell below the t-shirt line.

To the knees they went and I went to a full on run for the last car between me and mine. I dropped the cake and the rest of its "friends" and fixed myself.
It was too late.

Lesa was on her death bed. She couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.
We were about to die, together in the Hobby Lobby parking lot, me of humiliation and her of....well...she would die at my expense.

I can't conclude this little tid bit without explaining that the panties were granny style with a bleach spot and a small tear that the seam now could I?

Where I came from...

"Where I come from" was the topic for a friends' blog. I just had to write an entry on where I come from because, for those of you close to my age...you come from there too. So, enjoy the next few moments of "where I come from."

Where I came from the stars stayed hidden at night, but three brothers kept me distracted.
Where I came from there was a lot of wrestling for a spot on a couch so you didn't have to sit on the floor.
Where I came from the oldest got to ride shotgun and that was me. : )
Where I came from we made one box of mac n cheese n a can of veggies stretch into 4 bowls for lunch.
Where I came from we would sit at the end of the tarmac and watch the planes take off from outside the fence at the Denver airport.
Where I came from we played cops n robbers with an abandoned shopping cart, a bicycle and a jump rope.
Where I came from dumpster diving was an adventure with treasure to be found.
Where I came from we used old boxes for showing off our best break dancing moves while listening to the Thriller album.
Where I came from my brothers owned red and black vinyl pants and jackets with zippers everywhere.
Where I came from we weeded the garden in the back yard and played with the rolly pollies and lady bugs.
Where I came from we played GI Joe and Snake Eyes was a girl and The Enterprise carried Cobra Commander.
Where I came from Snake Eyes was also the nurse who "nursed" the Joes back to health when they were blown up.
Where I came from hand-me-downs were the only option...unless you were me. (I was the oldest AND the only girl.)
Where I came from we ate meat, taters and a veggie EVERY night.
Where I came from gravy was always on those taters and it was made from the meat drippins.
Where I came from we had a couch on the front porch that served as "base" for hide-n-seek.
Where I came from a dog was a Great Dane.
Where I came from neighborhood kids were scared of Great Danes.
Where I came from home was the town we lived in at the time.
Where I came from the girls cooked n cleaned and the boys tended the outside and chickens.
Where I came from records were still sold as new and not vintage.
Where I came from everyone owned a record player.
Where I came from the president speaking ruined your night.
Where I came from the Muppet Show was on every Sunday night.
Where I came from we LIVED for Saturday cartoons and the cyote NEVER caught the road runner.
Where I came from Jerry Lewis, Marilyn Monroe, Shirley Temple and Elvis were on TV after chores on Saturday.
Where I came from Madonna shocked people and Elvis was dead.
Where I came from George Michael was fiiiine not GAY!
Where I came from Auqua Net was the best thing for big hair and also served as a flame thrower at a concert.
Where I came from purple, blue and green eyeshadow could be worn at the same time in a zig-zag pattern on your eyelids.
Where I came from everyone, boys and girls alike, had spiral perms and mullets.
Where I came from no one knew about hunting or fishing.
Where I came from homes nearly touched.
Where I came from the Sunday funnies were entertainment for an hour even though we rarely got the "funny" part of it.
Where I came from no one waxed or plucked their eyebrows. (We were quite bushy!)
Where I came from Reebok hightops...in black...were "all the rage" and Gitano slouch socks had to be worn two pairs at a time, in two colors. (Green pair on top of blue pair)
Where I came from splatter paint s
weatshirts were worn with leggins that had an elastic band that went under the heel.
Where I came from hair had wings.


Where I came from life was what it was and I didn't know it could be better or worse.

I would love to see what my daughters would write ten years or twenty years from now. As you can tell, I grew up in a city environment....not small town or country like my girlies. Still, I have good memories and so will my baby girls. I just hope they stay away from the dumpsters. Which is where my brothers found their first dirty mag! HA! That is funny, but in a "eew gross" kinda way. hee hee

Toodles!

Feathers n red face!

Okay, so this next entry is a little bit...umm ...risque. Please do not read any further if you get embarrassed easily about things of a sexual nature.

I am a married woman. I have a great marriage and from what I understand, an average sex life. I've had the opportunity to discuss, with some of my closest friends, the ups and downs of marriage; things like children, bills, home (clean or dirty), etc, etc, etc...
Well, during some of the conversations, the topic of intimacy occasionally pops up (ignore the pun) and I have come to realize that the frequency of romantic moments and the frequency of close encounters of the intimate kind, seem to diminish over time. Don't get me wrong. This, by no means, insinuates that a marriage is failing or is less strong because of this. It actually means that the couple are growing comfortable.
I hate that last word...
Comfortable.
It almost seems like a bad word when it comes to a relationship.
Think about it. You are comfortable going to bed in a t-shirt and cotton granny panties and he is comfortable picking his nose while reading the paper.
This is the life of a married couple. It's great, but it shouldn't be.
Every once in a while we need to spice things up. We need to remember that tightening of the chest and deep breath we would take for just a simple kiss and that excitement that was evoked within us during the "dating phase."
Okay, enough Dr. Phil, here is my story.

My sweet hubby came home one day at 2 pm. This is great because, the heathens are still in lock down at the school until 3:15 pm
He called me before he left work and I had about 15 minutes to prepare for a little surprise for him. I scrambled to my "special" drawer. This drawer is special because it is rarely opened and is full of all the crap that I would NEVER wear to bed to sleep...it's full of lace and strings and see through things. Ya know ladies, all the stuff that screams, "Take me you beast!"
Now, I so rarely open this drawer that when I do, it's kinda like shopping in a lingerie store. Its been so long since I have seen this stuff that I often forget that I had this or that and so it is all like new to me!
Okay, so I pick out a few little pieces of material, one had feathery trim, enough said.
Anyway, my hubby came home....yada yada yada.
Okay, so the funny part. All of my blogs have a central "funny part" to them.
Kids come home, homework is completed, dinner is served, our night is wrapping up and we are about to play a card game with Brit and Blake (Brit's BF).
Before we can play, Brit realizes that she has to have her tennis jersey for her first tennis match and that she must find it. Blake and Brit leave the room and go from bedroom to bedroom, closet to closet looking for her team shirt. They finally give up and come to the kitchen and we all sit at the kitchen table for a nice, wholesome, family card game.
They begin to giggle and I, of course want in on the joke and ask what is so funny. They look at each other and nod and say nothing. Now, we all know that if two teenagers are giggling and not wanting to share the story with all, then it is most definitely is NOT nothing. So, I ask again.
Brit begins by saying that they were looking EVERYwhere for her shirt. She really enunciated the "every" part of that word.
I looked at her with a blank stare and said, "annnd..."
She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "We looked in your dirty clothes hamper."
Again, with a blank face I asked, "annnnd..."
They both began to laugh and I was confused.
She leaned over and said, "feathers mom."
As soon as she said the word feathers, my stomach dropped and my mind flashed to earlier in the afternoon when I was igniting that spark in my marriage. I flashed to look on his face when he got home and then I flashed to what was lying in my laundry hamper!

My face burned red.
I looked across the table at my husband who was still sitting there with a blank look on his face. I began to laugh uncontrollably and could not leave the kitchen fast enough! I could not stay in the same room with my teenage daughter and her boyfriend and my still ignorant husband. I was so completely embarrassed. I collapsed in the hall floor with laughter.
I knew the joke.
They knew the joke.
Philip did not.
Poor guy.
When I was finally able to compose myself, I came back to the kitchen and explained to Phillip and he berated the teens for being in our room and for going through our dirty clothes.
I am still sitting here laughing.
I think that poor Brittni was the real victim here.
I would die if I had found something like that of my mother's! EEEWWWW!!
Anyway, I have insurance and will just have to pay for her therapy! Maybe she will learn to keep her funky butt out of my room. HA!

Okay, so I already posted one blog today, but really had to make a separate post for this lil tidbit.

Cori was dressed. Her hair was perfectly coiffed. Her teeth were brushed. Her shoes were on. Her backpack was hanging off her shoulder. We were about to walk out the door for her first day of 4th grade and she stopped suddenly, dropped her bag, grabbed her chest with both hands and gasped, "I forgot my bra!"
I choked back a laugh and told her it was ok and that she did not HAVE to wear one.
She retorted with a tilt of her head and a smile, "I know, but it makes me look like I have boobs."

Well, that's my kid for ya!
HA!