So the other night I had this dream that was so bizarre that I felt compelled to write it all down when I woke up.

I was taking a road trip with three other gals in a car.  I didn’t recognize them.  Well, in my dream I must have known them, but I can’t think of who they would be in real life.  The girl driving the car was lesbian.  I had a very distinct feeling she was interested in me.  Very interested.  There were two more girls in back.  I don’t know what their “interests” were.  I was sitting in the front passenger seat with bags of leftover Halloween candy on the floor.  I remember thinking we were almost out of the good stuff, so I was glad that the bags were by me.  We were driving down the road at night.

I don’t know where we were planning to go, but the friend driving (who I was pretty sure was crushing on me–majorly crushing) had to make a stop along the way to return her Halloween costume.  She had been a sexy pirate wench, but when we got to the costume place, the costume she returned was not a sexy pirate wench.  It was a flesh colored furry body suit with a hat/mask that looked like the guy from Fat Albert who had the long stocking cap pulled over most of his head, only instead of being a stocking cap, it looked like it was made out of banana peels.  The dude at the costume place was trying to pick up on her, which I thought was funny since she was a lesbian and totally not interested, if you know what I mean.

As we were walking back to the car from the costume place, I was trying to decide how I should tell my lesbian friend I did not return her feelings.  I did not want to embarrass her in front of our other two friends, but I wasn’t sure how wise it would be to ask to be with her alone.  I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea or false hope or anything.  I wanted to let her down easy so we could still be friends.  For some reason, it was taking us a long time to walk back to our car.  We had to go up a flight of stairs and through a field.  While walking through the field, I spotted a small, ceramic house sitting on the ground.  I pointed at it and said, “Oh look!”  My friends all stopped to look, but I kept walking.

When I finally got to the car, it was parked in some kind of RV campground with RVs and trailers and stuff.  I caught an Asian girl burying the tires of our car in dirt.  I thought, “What the?”  I mean, what the H was she doing burying our car tires??  It looked like the car was up on some kind of embankment, and I decided I needed to pull it down so we could get out of there.

I unburied the tires then got down from the embankment to pull the car down from behind.  Only when I started pulling the car down, it was no longer a car, but a picnic table (like others scattered around this RV campground) covered with art projects and little tubs of paint and paint brushes.  This eccentric, middle-aged artist-type lady came up to me and said that our little tubs of paint were inadequate to finish our art projects, but that she had some in her trailer that she would gladly let us use.

I followed her into her trailer and she went into another room while I looked around.  She had a shelf of stuffed animals she had made out of yarn pom poms.  I leaned in to admire one particularly life-like siamese cat yarn pom pom stuffed animal and was just about to tell the eccentric middle-aged artist lady how impressed I was with her handiwork, when the cat suddenly jumped out, scaring the crap out of me.

Then I woke up.

What could it mean?  Do I want to take a road trip?  Dress up as a furry banana peel head next Halloween?  Become an artist?

Do I subconsciously distrust Asians?

Could I be a lesbian??  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

What are you dreaming of lately?

#381: See Scar do a double axel in spandex.

 

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I wasn’t prepared.

Last month on our trip to the pumpkin patch, DynaGirl insisted I take a picture of this:

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A closer look:

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That’s all I have to say about that.

I don’t know what is going on with my face, but I’ve developed these dry patches on both eyelids, around the corners of my mouth and all along my jaw line.  I haven’t been using any different products or eaten anything different lately or done anything else I can think of to warrant this kind of facial sloughery.  I moisturize multiple times a day.  It’s not helping.  And now my neck itches.  Woe is me!

Yesterday, while I was in the shower I had the chorus to DM’s Shake the Disease stuck on repeat in my head.  But I’d only get as far as:

Here is a plea
from my heart to you
nobody knows me
as well as you do

And then I would switch to Phil Collins’ Against All Odds:

But to wait for you is all I can do
and that’s what I’ve got to face

It was like one of those mash-ups they do on Glee where they take two songs that seem to be completely unrelated and meld them into one. So I was on this repeat cycle of:

Here is a plea
from my heart to you
nobody knows me
as well as you do
But to wait for you is all I can do
and that’s what I’ve got to face

And for the life of me I couldn’t get out of it.  Maddening, I tell you.  Maddening!

What songs would you like to see mashed up?

(Non-triumphantly.)

Don’t leave me hanging!

she’d do anything necessary for him, and

what does more cowbells have to do with

Never mind.  I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.

how to get baby powder to stick to your

why is a diabetic not allowed to use the

Why, thank you.

a clever conversationist  (But I believe you meant “conversationalist”.)

“i love you like jim loves pam”

I wouldn’t recommend that.

no lid deodorant

playing piano in pantyhose

goose part 1 and 2 by chuck norris

build your own funeral pyre

I wouldn’t eat that, if I were you.  Or me.

crap birthday cake

brown tic tacs

trauma cake

“roma tomatoes” “black inside”

Doesn’t everyone?

i worry too much after looking like an i(diot)  (No, I guess not.)

concave armpits  (If not, I’d have that looked at.)

Sicko!

enjoy armpit whiff -she -her -girl -woma

cow print latex rubber

chuck norris erotica

Seriously, get some help.

lick my womb

stalking shelves

Mad’s husband’s been here.

“sleep country lady”

What if you’re just sure?

raise your hand if you’re sure sure

I would sue.  (Although, with that flavor choice you were kind of asking for it.)

side-effect tic tac spearmint for 2 year

It’s too late for that.  Put your money where your mouth is.

tic tacs sorry

I’d pay to see that.

funny curriculum night powerpoints

liberace eating pancakes

Someone is suspicious.

can a goose break your arm?

broke “arms” “casts”

why would a doctor make you wear a sling

“her eye appointment” “glasses”

the cake is a lie birthday

A “rose” by any other name…

loud pulse after squats

Testify!

grab the cowbell words in a song

i got a witness more cowbell

Accept no substitutes.

chuck norris look alike shoes

action pants de chick norris

chusk norris

chuck norros

Can you be more specific?

pity

sock*

kiwi fruit

dentistry monkey steal potato

Questions for the ages.

why does my fire alarm squeak

dairy queen pancake platter – what’s inc

what do you mean by de-pulping

If you have to ask…

how long is meat good in the freezer

explanation of chuck norris potato chip

what’s wrong with shaking tic tacs

You won’t find that here.

flossitude

motivational friday

the meaning of lbs

proof of sanity

There are two c’s in raccoon.  I just thought you should know.  I mean, good spelling skills are not necessarily a measure of intelligence.  My father is a brilliant and world-renowned (in certain circles) scientist, and last I checked he still spells “cheese” with a “z”.  But if you’re giving instruction on writing, and more specifically editing, I think it would be nice if your example did not include a paragraph in which raccoon is spelled incorrectly eight times.  Also, you use ”it’s” for “it’s jumping over the fence” and “its” for “its tail is stuck between the planks”.  I’m just saying.

Because Julie asked, some pics of the kids in their Halloween garb:

DynaGirl as The Cat in the Hat:

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Goose as The Cheerleader:

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BigHugs as The Black Cat:

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Saturday ended up being a pretty busy day, so the girls didn’t get out trick-or-treating until after 7:30 pm.  I was a little worried we wouldn’t be able to employ our annual Halloween candy strategy.  You don’t have a Halloween candy strategy?  I’m not talking about mapping out a trick-or-treating route or going to the houses with the best loot or anything like that.  Let me explain.

My first few Halloweens I was a total sucker, buying and passing out the good stuff only to have my children come home with gummy thumbs and chocolate eyeballs and Arby’s restaurant mints that had been scrounged from the bottom of someone’s purse or pocket or something.  (The wrappers wrinkled and covered in lint and crumbs are kind of a tip off, cheapo restaurant mint passer-outers.  If you think no one has noticed, you’re wrong.)  Then I started buying the cheapo stuff like smarties and the bubble gum that’s rock hard by Veteran’s Day.  The problem with that is if you overestimate the number of trick-or-treaters you’re likely to have, then you’re still stuck with the crap.

A few years ago, I finally figured out that if you send your kids out early enough, they can come home, sort the undesirable and inedible from the good stuff, and then you can turn around and pass it out to unsuspecting trick-or-treaters and keep the good candy for yourself.  I know, it’s diabolical.  But pretty much in keeping with the whole spirit of the holiday, no?

They ended up getting home in plenty of time, but the parade of trick-or-treaters had really tapered off by about 8:30 pm, and we still had plenty of candy of the undesirable, inedible variety left in our bowl.  Chuck tried to turn the porch light off at 9 pm, but I told him to leave it on just in case we got a few stragglers.  I instructed Mr. T and DynaGirl to make sure the bowl was clear of any stuff worth keeping, and to just dump the entire contents of the bowl into the outstretched bag of anyone who dared trick-or-treat past 9 pm.

At 9:15 the doorbell rang and DynaGirl dumped as instructed.  We turned off the porch light and locked the door.  Our house is now completely devoid of all the abominations that people try to pass off as Halloween candy.  Complete mission success this year, my friends, complete mission success.

Yes, occasionally I do feel some pangs of guilt for re-treating something that I deem unworthy of my own family’s consumption.  But some of these kids come from the very homes that are passing out this stuff, and while it would be helpful to have every child carry a sample of the offerings from their own homes so that one might be better able to judge what candy of which they are worthy, that’s not really realistic, is it? 

So yes, innocents may fall victim to the particular brand of Halloween candy justice we dispense here at Casa de Bythelbs (I might be giving your child a box of Dots at the very moment you are generously dropping a king-snize Snickers into my child’s sack), but I can live with the collateral damage if it means I never again have to look at another Now and later or Laffy taffy or flavored Tootsie roll collecting dust in my pantry. 

Hey, it would be wasteful to just throw it away.

Plus, some people like that kind of stuff.

I am not a monster!

And no referencing that last post!

You know those moments in life where you can either laugh or cry?  I have never laughed so hard in my entire life.

 

While going through DynaGirl’s homework folder, I found this storyboard:

 

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Me:  What was this for?

DynaGirl:  Oh, that’s just a rough rough draft of something.

Yeah, rough.

Rough draft?

So yesterday I was frantically trying to finish up costumes for Goose and DynaGirl (because last night was our church’s annual trunk or treat), which necessitated a last minute run to the fabric store.  I had a list, but I still wandered back and forth across the store because I would remember that I needed something over there even though I was just over there with my list and the something staring me right in the face. 

Then I went to pay and I slid my credit card through the little credit card thingy upsidedown.  I had the magnetic strip between my fingers!  Luckily, I noticed before the cashier did, but just in case, I had to acknowledge out loud that I had done something stupid.  I didn’t want her to have seen me do it and then see me try to hurry and cover up that I had done it.  Better to just come out and say I’m a idiot.  Never mind the possibility that the whole thing would otherwise have gone unnoticed. 

And then I almost made it out the door without my bag of somethings that I had wandered back and forth across the store collecting and tried to pay for with the wrong end of my credit card.  I had to go back to the register and get my bag.  I hate it when you have to go back.  Although, going back is slightly less humiliating than someone chasing you out the door frantically yelling, “Mam!  Mam!  Your bag!”  while everyone in the tri-parking lot area turns and stares.  Not that I would know from personal experience or anything, but I can imagine.

Driving down the street on my way home, I suddenly realized I had missed my turn.  Four blocks ago.  I was in my own town, like five minutes from my house.

Somehow I managed to get home, finish the costumes and make it through the day without harming myself or others.  (Well, there was that whole temporarily losing track of BigHugs while walking Goose and DynaGirl home from school and finding her 30 seconds later walking 15 feet behind us sobbing and completely freaked out.  But that doesn’t really count, does it?) 

You have days like this, right?

Sitting in church.

Goose: Can I get a drink of water?

Me: Wait ’til he’s done speaking.

Goose: Why?

Me: It’s rude to get up while someone is speaking.

Goose:  But I’m not even listening to it.  Can I get a drink of water now?

I’m right behind you.

 

Family game time.

Me: Which dwarf is missing from this list: Grumpy, Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy, Happy, Doc?

Mr. T: Happy?

Me: I said Happy.

DynaGirl: Sleepy?

Me: I said Sleepy.

Kids: Silence.

I make my best Bashful face.

DynaGirl: Dopey!

Me: I said Dopey!

Time runs out.

Me: I was giving you a hint!

DynaGirl: Yeah, I know.  That was totally Dopey!

I’m thinking this could be a vital clue to what went wrong in my dating years.

 

In the car.

BigHugs: Mom, you’re the best mom in the whole world.  When it’s Mother’s Time Day I’m going to make you a necklace out of beads.

Can’t wait.

 

Watching Enchanted, the ball scene.

Goose: That’s weird how people dance with other people’s mates.

Mr. T: Mates?  What do you think this is?  Africa?

DynaGirl: Africa?

Mr. T, with a hel-lo attitude: You  know, like Lion King?  What did you think I meant?

Well, duh.

 

Mr. T belchfest while I’m getting ready to put dinner on the table.

DynaGirl: Mr. T, please don’t eat the beans.

Mr. T: I have ways to make gas that you don’t even know of.  I don’t need to eat the beans.

They’ve been telling us he’s gifted for years.  They had no idea.

Mormon Women
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