The Family that Plays Together ....

I don't think you are ever to old to play. The day you stop playing is the day you die. My family and I still play, while others are amazed at our closeness. We still get together for game nights. Mom's choice of play is hearts. She is evil and no one wants to sit next to her. I don't mind, it is just a challenge. I practice playing hearts on the computer in hopes of being a winner sometime. Sad that I can beat the computer but not my family.
Well maybe now that we are a little bit older it gets gassy in the room but that is just more entertainment. You know, gas, gas it must pass, through your mouth or out your ...... Mar is the queen at this moment with Eric coming in a close second. Rob used to be horrified by our actions but now just sits and shakes his head. I have taught all the kids how to belly burp. I prefer not to pass gas from the bottom but from the top. If you do a good deep belly burp, it will also smell horrid.
I love our get togethers and wished they could be weekly. Maybe we should put a little more of an effort and instead of monthly at least biweekly. You know our family that plays together might need to be thrown under a bus by some but we all find us very entertaining..

V-Day is Coming

What are you getting for valentines day? I hope my is as thoughtful and fulfilling as one of my past gifts from Mr. Man. Kerry took a beating from friends and family for that gift but my man knows me. I am a vacuum connoisseur. He gave me the pretty purple Dyson for valentines day. Oh those wonderful carpet lines after vacuuming, how it warms the cockles of my heart. I had a Kirby and it was pretty heavy to carry up and down the stairs. I have three floors so it was a pain. He must have thought that it was a pain that I would ask him to do the carrying because I have the new lighter weight vacuum with attachments on board. I can even vacuum the stairs as I take it up. I did the Kirby challenge when I first received my most revered prize. I vacuumed my rug like the Kirby dealer did when they were trying to sell me there product after I used my old vacuum. Yes the Kirby won in 2000 with dirt on its filter to show how gross my old vacuum was. I ran the Kirby on my rug and then my Dyson. It was disgusting what the Kirby left behind. The Kirby got kicked to the curb and now I am in Dyson love. I find my husband to be the most romantic man ever for thinking of me in a way that would satisfy me year round. For all of you naysayers, try making carpet lines with your vacuum.

My Bladder has Fallen

Don't sneeze while you are standing without crossing your legs. It is true my bladder has fallen and won't get back up. Now I know how men feel every time they go to the bathroom. I feel some guilt for not pursuing the peedee pad idea I had about twenty years ago. I thought I could market a pad for men for there underwear to prevent the last few drops from being seen. You know the old saying, no matter how much you shake and dance, the last few drops go in your pants. I guess finding this out just goes along with the lone gray pubic hair. I am aging faster than a speeding bullet. I was a good girl and practiced my Keogel exercises whule driving my car. Squeeze, hold, release.... I'm not that much overweight. Why has it fallen? How soon before I have to wear diapers? I just went through the change and don't want to where pads again. What next?? Well I am not giving up, there has to be a cure out there for aging somewhere. I always said I was going to grow old gracefully, but I have changed my mind, I am going out kicking and screaming. Are ya with me girls? Oh and by the way, I will know when you are in the fallen club by the way you start to laugh, sneeze, or cough by the crossing of your legs prior to prevent leakage. I will be in your corner and privately give you a queenly wave.

"It is Potty Time"

I have the great pleasure to be a part of Gracie's life. She is a neighbors child who is 19 months old. She squeals with delight when I come in. Gracie calls me GG as do all the other rug rats in my life. I don't know if I could love this little imp anymore. Well, we are collectively trying to potty train Gracie. You know it takes a village to raise a child, especially one as precosious as our amazing Grace. We have tried all the stratigies we all know. Mommie peeing on Gracie's potty chair (too funny), doing a potty dance, singing potty time, time on the potty with reading, putting her hands in water,running water, big girl panties, and ect... Of course, Gracie doesn't want to have anything to do with it. Till last night anyway,Gracie decided to potty her baby. Her baby had success on Gracie's potty chair and now is potty trained. The baby also got the potty dance and plenty of hugs and kisses by Gracie. Gracie still isn't potty trained but the baby doll is!! Help from one village member to another, any idea's?? Almost exacerbated GG!

My Pity Parties

I think we all have them but mine are definitely special to me. When I am feeling like I am in need of my private pity party, I start a hot bubble bath. I run and get my beverage of choice, usually red zinfandel wine, candles to light, and some classical music. I run back upstairs without so much as talking with anyone in my way and strip down after locking the door. They all seem to know when not to bother me due to my private pity party time. I light the candles, pour my first glass, start the music, and put my tiara on. You all should know that I am a princess and should be treated as such even if it is by me. Into the tub I go for a couple of hours. I daydream about what went wrong and what I could have done to stop it before making me piteous. Sometimes I allow myself a tear or two. The wine usually kicks in about this time and I start to giggle about all the bubbles and the crown on my head. I come back to reality and know that my problems have never been more than I can handle and I enjoy a good challenge. I get out and dry off and wrap myself with a new attitude. I realize that self pity is a terrible thing but I don't want to give up my tiara or bubble baths and it is a great excuse to enjoy my time alone. Try it, you"ll like it!!

Live Like You mean It, Friends

Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming -- WOW -- What a Ride!

-- Anonymous

Parrot Lip

My best friend, Vixen, is one of the Good News Gals but has had some trauma in her life as of late. We have been friends since the eigth grade. I can remember spending the night and her having to rake the orange shag carpet. Isn't that a blast from the past. For you that are not as old, we used to have longer carpet than we have now and had to rake it to make it look good, even with our Electrolux and Kirbey vaccuums. My blessing and prayers go out to Vixen right now, as I wish all would send some.
We have played together for at least 35 years and one time stands out. We had been out and about and one of our mutual friends had been drinking a little Gran Marnier. Gran Ma is of the devil or so it made Sue. We figured we needed to take her back to my house and sober her up. Vixen and Sue arrived earlier than I. Sue in her drunken state decided it was a good idea to play with my parrot. Bozo was a friendly red lore amazon that loved people. He sat on my head a lot and traveled around. Well Sue was not ready to take him for a trip through the house like me. Boz jumped on top of her head and Sue panicked. Sue turned frantic, making the parrot frantic. Boz got wound up in her hair. When I walked in, Vixen was trying to diffuse the situation and take Bozo out of Sue's hair only to get bit on the lip. I have to get the bird out, calm Boz, calm Sue, and contemplate on what to do with Vixen's lip, oh, and I forgot, clean up the blood. The icepack came out and upon looking at her lip, I decided to take her to the emergency room. We get to the first hospital and they do not want to touch her due to it being facial and scarring. We had to go to another hospital with a facial surgeon standing by. We are filling out paper work and out comes her smart nurse and in a very loud voice, calling for "parrot lip". The whole waiting room with the nurse bust into laughter. Okay, I laughed too. We got her fixed up but if you look real close she is wearing a love bite from Bozo and yes we all laugh about it now, not just me.