Archive for May, 2010

Anytime, and I mean A-N-Y-T-I-M-E, my husband is out of the house or out of town for any reason I am always thinking what I’m going to eat. 

Why I feel like I have to wait until he’s gone to eat anything, good or bad, is beyond me.  He’s never judged me for what I’ve eaten or stopped me from eating anything. I guess I feel that if no one is around to see me eat it, maybe it didn’t happen.  Kind of the whole tree falling in a forest situation.

Every time I get to eat whatever I want I always think of one thing.

It’s so trashy of me.

I can’t believe I’m admitting this.

Why do I crave Spaghettios out of anything and everything I could eat?  Why? Why? WHY? And it has to have the meatballs.  Which is even sicker!  But I love them. Maybe it’s a call back to my childhood when this is all my mom gave us to eat.  She would throw a can at us and give us a can opener and a spoon.  And we would just eat it out of the can.  (Ok, that didn’t really happen. She was a MUCH better mom than that.  She at least opened the can for us.)

They’re delicious to me.  So trashfully delicious.  And, according to the can, they’re a good source of protein.  So there. 

Am I the only one that craves trashy food? I can’t be alone.  I’m not, am I?

And I don’t think I’m pregnant…

These two do judge me and I take it personal until they start eating things out of the garbage.   

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For some reason, when I have my contacts out and cannot see a thing all of my senses run amuck.  I don’t seem to hear as well, forget my sense of smell, and food does not have the same taste.  I was always under the impression if you lost one of your senses the rest of your senses would be heightened.  I frightened to know what would happen if I was blind or deaf. 

Last night, I was blabbing on about something and I said the words picture frame. For some reason the word frame made the brown dog hop up and look at me like it was a familiar word to her.  She knows a lot of words, I mean I don’t want to brag, but she is probably the smartest dog on the planet. 

I kept thinking, what word that sounds like frame does she know? Frappuccino? Frank? Frere Jacques?

I asked the hubinator and he said, “Maybe it’s F-L-O…”

And this is where my super senses take over and I suddenly am blind and deaf. 

I said, “Flower? Why would she know the word flower?”

He just looked at me like I’m an idiot (I’m assuming since I couldn’t see anything two inches in front of me) and said, “NO-I said F-L-O-Y-D. Floyd! Where did you get flower?”

While he’s busy making fun of me I’m just wondering how Floyd sounds anything remotely like frame.  Yes, they both start with “f” but that’s about where the similar sounds end.

I don’t think I heard the end of it until we both fell asleep.  I’m sooo sorry Mr. Perfect that I turn into a catatonic person when my contacts are out. 

And no, I never found a word that was even close to the word frame that she could have mistaken it for.  That’s the biggest mystery in all of this I suppose.  Either that or how my perfect husband puts up with someone so imperfect.

Speaking of perfection…


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When it comes to bugs, toads, and snakes my husband is a baby.  I married a little girl.

The other night he called me outside because this was sitting in our backyard.

[Please note, the above toad is not the actual toad in question]

See how terrifying and scary that is?  He wanted me to move it so the dogs wouldn’t eat it.  So me, being a normal person, picked it up and moved it. 

“What does a toad feel like,” my innocent husband asked.

“It feels like a toad.” I said “Do you want me to get it so you can touch it?”


(Remember we’re dealing with an almost 30-year-old man)

I go and retrieve it and bring it to him.  He was getting ready to touch it when the toad peed on me.  Which is completely normal for a toad to do.  And he freaked out and wouldn’t get near it. 

Fast forward to last night.


[Please note this is none of the junebugs in question from last night.]

One of his greatest fears.  I’ll admit they gross me out too, but I am not scared of them by any means. 

We were out watching the dogs in the backyard and junebugs were starting to fly in.  He was getting a little antsy and finally after five or six junebugs landed on our porch he had me go in the house (because he could not walk past the junebug invasion) and let him in the side door.

As we were sleeping we heard the buzzing of the wings of a junebug. In our room. I had to be the one to get up, find the junebug, pick it up, and throw it back outside. (As you all should know by now I don’t kill anything–if there’s a spider my husband kills it)

I can’t belive I’m going to have to be the one in this relationship that teaches our kids how to play with bugs, worms, toads, and snakes. 

I’m actually surprised he’s brave enough to even pet our two dogs…

Who could resist though? I mean really…look at them!

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The big news around our house in the past couple weeks is that we have officially decided to move. 

[I think the heaven’s just opened up and angels are now singing.]

I could not be more excited. 

My neighborhood is, how shall I say this, a little on the trashy side.  Kids running around partially clothed with no parental supervision.  Trash bins constantly left out at the curb days after the trashmen came.  And I’m not sure, but our neighbor may be on something.  That’s just a theory though.

Needless to say I am READY to move. I’ve been ready for about a year or so.  Finally my husband has had enough!  I think the story about a neighbor a few houses down having to kill a fighting pit bull that was dropped off in our neighborhood because it was trying to attack children was the final straw.  Wow, that was a long sentence. 

I’m REALLY excited because looking for houses may be one of my most favorite activities EVER.  I am excited on so many levels. 

Living in a decent neighborhood with decent children and just decency all around may actually change my mind about having children.  I refuse to raise children in our current neighborhood.

OR living in a nicer/bigger place may help me convince my husband we can get a third dog.  But that’s probably just wishful thinking…

All I have to say is, Pups-get ready for a new life.  No more neighbor kids hanging over the fence harassing you.

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