Proof that there is no hope for me to be funny. Ever.

Because when my cousin, who has a Ph.D. in MATH for crying out loud (or something like that, sorry Dave) is this funny, there is NO CHANCE I"ll be even remotely amusing.  Ever.  What math genius have you ever met who is funny?


And I'm not a genius about anything (except reality t.v., but I'm not sure if that would win me anything on the Miss America talent contest) so I don't even have that going for me.


So Dave writes this hilarious post and e-mails it to my family.  


My mom responds:

"Leave it to Dave to get a smile on your face!!!  Honey you missed your calling.  Not sure what your calling is by the way.  BTW did you have anything to do with the poor stuffed sheep that had its ears pinned together and a knife strapped to its waist?
love
Aunt Marilyn"

Dave's reply:

"Poor Sheep?  (you'll have to upload a photo, so the others know what we're talking about)

That, my dear, is a Samurai Sheepkin, most feared of all bucolic beasts.  It will watch your house while you're gone.  Just leave it some sushi once in a while.  With lots of seaweed.

dave." 

Valentine's Day - What a Farce

I only say that because it makes me feel better about myself when my oh-so-practical "look at me, I was raised in a third world country, so I'm too good for frivolous stuff" husband doesn't buy me any Valentine's Day gifts.

He tells me every year: "Every day with me is Valentine's Day."

It wouldn't be so freaking irritating if it weren't kind of true. Great, he reads this and I'm never going to get Manolo shoes after admitting that.

It is kind of like my birthday, when he tells me: "When I was a kid in Vietnam, no one remembered my birthday. The only present I ever got was water. To put on my dirt and make mud."

*yawn*

Not that I'm getting that scrooge anything either.

But for the rest of you lucky morons, check out my shopping site, The Shopping Guru, for gift suggestions. And no, I wouldn't mind at all if you bought me one of the things I suggested. By all means.

TLC's A Baby Story

I was flipping through the channels the other evening and saw A Baby Story.  It reminded me of an interesting (it is interesting because I say so) observation I had recently.  Because I'm like the best observer of stuff ever.  Anyway, I noticed that show is only interesting when you JUST had a baby.  Like the first two or three weeks after you had a baby. 

When you are pregnant, you would think this would be a fun show to watch.  Nope.  No interest in getting more detail about the horror (oops, that is totally counter to my hypnobabies training) amazing thing that is about to happen to me. 

About two weeks post partum, you realize that the whole baby birthing thing doesn't hold quite the same fascination as it did in the moments following your own experience.  Shocking.

Uh-oh, does this mean all of you have the same reaction to my stupid mumblings about parenting?

Don't answer that.

Brief Hiatus

I am taking a little hiatus to enjoy time with my extended family.  We will be mourning the loss of our amazing, beautiful grandmother.  At the same time, we will be enjoying memories of her and will be cherishing our time together, which she would love.

Haiti Earthquake - How to Help

I'm sure many of you are haunted by the images from Haiti and wondering how in the world you could do anything to help them.  Please don't stay immobilized.  Every little bit helps.  Thanks to the blog Ask Moxie for this post on simple ways to help:

The easiest way to help is to text the word YELE to 501501 and a US$5 donation will be made to Yele Haiti, Wyclef Jean's foundation, with the money billed to your next mobile phone bill.

You can also donate through the Red Cross, either at redcross.orgor by texting the word HAITI to 90999 to have a US$10 donation made to the Red Cross International Relief Fund.

You can also donate through the Mercy Corps: https://donate.mercycorps.org/donation.htm?DonorIntent=Haiti+Earthquake

Cool Mom Picks offers other suggestions in this post.  

Good Comebacks for when People Say Dumb Sh...Stuff

My husband, T, is the king of comebacks.  You know why?  Because he really, REALLY doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him.  Me?  I’m terrible.  I’m that person who thinks of the comeback two or three hours later.  The only time I was remotely good at it was when I was pregnant and grumpy. 
You know what people say the dumbest things about?  Pregnancy, post-partum stuff, parenting, and other people’s relationships.  What do these things have in common?  They are NONE OF YOUR DARN BUSINESS. 
Some of my favorite stupid things people have said [these are real; names changed to protect identity] and my suggested comebacks:
“Oh my, your little Bobby is such a brat.  I don’t know what you are doing wrong.  My daughter, Susie’s little boy is such an angel.” 
Yeah, I trust your judgment ‘cause you did such a fabulous job raising Susie. 
Oh, Bobby only acts like that when we don’t give him his daily dose of marijuana. 
“You look good.  Your belly is getting smaller.  But I’m not saying your skinny.  You left your days of being hot behind in college.”
At least I got to experience being hot.  You poor ugly idiot.
“You are definitely a lot bigger than last time [you were pregnant].”
You are also a lot bigger than….oops.  Sorry about that.
“You should bite him [your son] back when he bites you.”
How about I bite you, you moron?
And the classic dumb comment, said to a newly married couple: “When are you going to start having kids?”
For the comebacks to this classic, I must once again credit my newly married colleague, Jay L.  His suggestions are much better than mine:
When they relax the child labor laws.
About 9 months and 15 minutes from now. Will you excuse us?
We'd like to, but there was this bowling accident a few years ago...
As you can see, mine are pretty lame compared to Jay's.  Help me out, whatcha got for comebacks?

The Globe Guardian has some doozies. 

Aunt Kay [aka, “The Light”], if you are reading I know you will respond with something like “Sweetie, take the high road and just tell them how wonderful they are.  Thank them for the advice and go on your merry way.”  If I promise to do that and just think these great comebacks, will you forgive me?

How can our 3-year-old be smarter than us?

Exhibit A: cookie versus popsicle

In our household, we have the [loosely enforced] rule that treats are only allowed on the weekend.  Also, she is only allowed one treat after each meal, totaling one treat after dinner on Friday, three treats on Saturday and three on Sunday.  Simple, right?  Easy to enforce, right?

So 45-year-old man of the world picks up his daughter from school on Friday. 

From the back seat in a voice that could melt butter: “Daddy, can I have a cookie and a popsicle tonight?” 

Daddy:  “No, you can only have one treat.  Which would you like?” 

“I think I would like a popsicle.  I’ll share it with you, daddy.” [cue big smile and doe eyes]

Oblivious, stupid daddy answers, so proud that his daughter is finally grasping the concept of sharing: “Aww…thanks sweetie.  I’d love to have some of your popsicle.”

“You can have a cookie for your treat, okay daddy?”

This is the moment when daddy loses focus, like a cop in a bad 80s movie whose poor partner [played by a no-name actor] is about to get shot.

Now half paying attention, daddy mumbles: “Okay sweetie.”

“And you will share your cookie with me, right daddy?”

Oops.