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The New Shopping Adventures of Old Bythelbs

11 Jan

So every time I go to the grocery store now, I do my best to avoid that guy. I think we’ve established I do not particularly enjoy his small talk. But ultimately, my prime directive when grocery shopping is to get the heck out of there ASAP, so if his is the shortest line, I’ll suck it up.

Shopping with BigHugs. She’s helping me unload the cart.

That Guy (formerly known as YMC–Young Male Checker), gesturing towards BigHugs as she’s helping me:  At least they’re good for something, huh?

Me:  Uh, yeah.

TG:  Plus you gotta have someone to take care of you in your old age.



Grocery shopping with Chuck on a Saturday night.

Chuck:  That line looks the shortest.

Me:  Man, not that guy.  I hate that guy.  He called me old.  Twice.

Let him call me old with Chuck there!

TG:  So, any big plans for the weekend?

Me:  Just grocery shopping.

TG:  Wow.  So I’m like the highlight of your weekend.

Me, in a total deadpan voice:  Uh, yeah.  The highlight.

So now I’m old and pathetic.  I hate that guy.


Yesterday on my way into the Target, I passed a panhandler (no, I did not hit on him—this time) with a sign that read, “Need $$$ for dog food”.  He had a dog sitting next to him—a very healthy, well-groomed looking kind of dog.  I gave half-a-second’s thought to purchasing a can of dog food to give to him on my way out, but then decided against it.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one not feeling particularly generous to dogs that day because on the way out I noticed the panhandler had changed his strategy and was now holding a sign that read, “Spare money 4 pot!”  Do you suppose that was for him or the dog?

The babies Jesus

6 Jan

I know Christmas is over, but I think I told Julie I’d show you my baby Jesuses that I worked so hard on.

First, a little background.  Thirty some odd years ago, my aunt made our family a bean bag nativity set.  What is a bean bag nativity set, you ask?  Well, this is a bean bag nativity set:

It’s the perfect nativity set for kids because you can actually touch it without mom freaking out.  Not only you can touch it, but you can play with it, and even act out the whole nativity story if you’d like.  With a closer look, you can see it has been well loved.

Hay and hair refuse to be tamed (though I’m not sure I remember the hair ever looking much different than this), Mary’s missing a hand (I’m hoping that has nothing to do with the nativity bowling incident of 1996), the camel can no longer stand unaided—you get the picture.  But this nativity set is responsible for some of my most treasured childhood Christmas memories, and I wanted to pass that on to my children.  So about a decade ago, my oldest sister and I made new nativity sets.

We mostly stuck to the original pattern my mom had acquired from my aunt all those years ago, only making a few minor adjustments.  The color palette is a little less 70s and we gave Joseph a sash and Mary a shawl, but otherwise we tried to maintain its original charm (including rastafarian-head Joseph–his locks were legend in our family).  It took hours and hours to complete.  My sister did all of the machine work since a decade a go I was even more clueless about the ways of a sewing machine than I am now (if you can believe it), and I helped out with the hand work.  Our original plan was to make a set for each of our other siblings, but after completing our sets, we decided to take a break for the rest of that Christmas season, and well, that was a decade ago.

This year when my kids set up the nativities, I decided my two other sisters must have their own bean bag nativities.  I really had the best of intentions, but keeping in mind my previous sewing experiences and that I made this decision just two weeks before Christmas, I’m sure you won’t be too surprised to learn that this is as far as I got (times two):

It took hours and hours to complete.  And hours.  I included a note with my sisters’ packages that I expected to be done with the rest of the sets in time for their grandchildren to enjoy them.  Maybe.  But at least they have the essential pieces, and aren’t they just the sweetest things you’ve ever seen?

If I do say so myself.

More classroom adventures

23 Sep

I love working in my kids’ classrooms, if for no other reason than to hear all the crazy crap the other kids say.

Math time—working on making lists of things you are sure will happen, things you are sure will not happen and things that might happen.

Random Kid #1: I will go home from school today.

Random Kid #2: My toilet will not talk to me.

Crazy Crap Kid:  I might eat squirrel again.

Me:  Again?  You’ve eaten squirrel?

CCK: Yeah, we shot and cooked our own squirrel.  It takes like dark chicken, only the legs (mimes holding a squirrel drumstick up to his mouth) don’t have much meat on them.

Yeah, I am sure I will NOT eat squirrel.

What’s up with that?

8 Feb

* Another random internet ad:

What’s up with that?

* From Mr. T’s high school course catalog—this is a two-fer because first, we have me with a kid old enough to be in high school (next fall) and then there’s this course description:

Flex and Fitness (Grades 9-12, 1 sem, 0.5 credit)
This course is energetic and active yet suited to all levels of personal fitness. The main thrust of each class is to bring about a transformation of the physical body, relieve stress, sculpt muscles, develop flexible bodies, and gain a greater calmness.

(Emphasis may have been added.)

What’s up with that?

* Strange things are happening to me:

I am now officially a Bishop’s wife.


WHAT is up with THAT?

How was your weekend?

Things to scratch off the bucket list

13 Nov

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






I wasn’t prepared.

In which the universe raises its pinky finger of scorn at me…again

22 Jul

We went to the doctor today.  Better safe than sorry, right?  Only a fool would let her accident prone daughter walk around with broken bones hanging out all willy nilly for ten days more than once.  I am no fool, sisters.  No fool!

So that sore pinky is perfectly fine.  Beautiful, intact bones.  WHAT a re-LIEF!  It’s just the hand that’s broken.  Yes, my friends, the hand.  Who needs a broken finger when you can just break the WHOLE DING DANG HAND?!



It looks like her already paid for cheer camp is out next week.  Piano is a no-go, too.  And she’s actually pretty excited that the swimming lessons I had planned for the first week of August will have to wait as well.  Oh well.  It could have been worse, right?  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Well, THAT’S not ALL, folks!  Why settle for a broken hand when you can have a broken hand AND, wait for it…





And you know what would be even MORE awesome?  How about we put that broken hand and broken elbow on DIFFERENT ARMS?!



Bonus!  Isn’t that just FAN-TAS-tic?!

As the Dr. splinted her up, DynaGirl started to sniff.  Not because she was crying, but because she needed to wipe her nose. 

Dr:   You poor thing.  You’re not even going to be able to blow your own nose.  I didn’t think about that.  And how are you going to eat?  I didn’t think about that.  And, oh no!  How are you going to wipe your behind when you use the bathroom?!  I didn’t even think about that!

Good questions, Doc.  Good questions.  So far I’ve fed her, dressed her, and taken care of her more personal needs.  Good times, my friends.  Good times.  We see the ortho guy tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this).  Our doctor wasn’t sure whether or not she’d end up with two casts or one.  We’ll just have to wait and see.  Obviously, I’m tingling with anticipation.

And as if this wasn’t enough excitement, Chuck got called out of town last minute.  He leaves early tomorrow morning and will be back next week on Friday.  Awesome.  Oh, and for just a little more icing on the cake, guess what lucky girl gets to go to the dentist in the morning?  That’s right!  Me!  It’s me, me, me, ME, ME!  I love my life!  It…Just…Keeps…Getting…Better!


In all seriousness, I’m actually very glad it’s just a couple of broken bones.  Thankfully, she was wearing a helmet.  She’s OK.  Inconvenienced, greatly, but OK.  And, as usual, my blessings are too many to count.


And, as a TOTALLY unrelated aside, here’s some classic PSB for you (I think Neil Tennant’s hair is wondering this same thing):