Rudolph the Red Nosed Car

I drove to work behind someone who dressed their car as a reindeer. It had antlers and a red nose. I don’t even have time to wash my car let alone dress it. My first car did wear a bra. Do you remember those? It was a Dodge Daytona with a spoiler and a bra. No, I did not grow up in New Jersey. It was the 90s and it came with it. Are people who decorate their car just trying to spread holiday cheer or is it a cry for help? There is a man in my town who glues decorations to a board and attaches it to his car every holiday. What better way to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus than to superglue giant plastic eggs to the hood of your Jeep Cherokee?

I know I sound like a grinch. I’ve had a rough few days. I couldn’t zip my boots and nearly knocked myself out trying to take off a sports bra. The boots are several years old. They were snug to begin with. Designers don’t take cankles into consideration when making boots. I am a little bit thicker, let’s say more muscular, than I was when I bought this particular pair. I got it halfway up and the zipper waved a white flag. Fast forward that evening and after an intense workout I was in a similar situation. Sports bras are difficult to get on, but even harder to take off. It would even stump Fonzie.

I look nothing like the commercial of the sexy woman undressing and more like a clown in the circus. I was spinning, wiggling and twisting, but couldn’t get the damn bra above my shoulders. This is an artist rendering of the entire fiasco:


(Yes, I lost my nose in the process and grew another finger.)

At one point I tripped and landed on my keister, unable to catch myself because one arm was stuck in the bra. I almost cut the damn thing off. I would have, but I am too cheap. The girls need support and mama needs to save her money for Christmas. The man driving the car dressed as a reindeer isn’t going to come down the chimney on December 25th.

Question #15

I don’t watch much news on TV since leaving the business. It is partially due to the fact that my television is locked on cartoons. My days are spent with pigs that grunt mid sentence, rabbits who have no adult supervision and a fox struggling with Kleptomania. I DVR most of the shows I enjoy. I hope to watch them when my children go off to college. I read about current events on my phone. I actually prefer it to watching an hour long broadcast. It allows me to skip the depressing stories and scroll to headlines like this:

Former Shoe Salesman Arrested For Trying to Cut Off Ex-Girlfriend’s Toe

Curiosity got the best of me. I had to know the back story. It turns out this isn’t the first or second time this freak has attacked his ex’s feet. It is the third. In fact, he was charged with aggravated assault for biting off part of her toe. You know how bad it hurts when you stub a toe on a chair. You dance around in circles until the pain abates. Can you imagine what losing a toe feels like?

I will screen every guy who wants to date my daughter. I dated a few losers in my life. Those relationships didn’t last long. I broke up with a guy in college after the first date. He was in dental school. I am not going to lie, I fantasized about living in a mansion in L.A. paid for by LeAnn Rimes’ caps. He pulled up to my house in a souped up Monte Carlo. He was a tool on so many levels. Life in a trailer park flashed before my eyes. I barely made it through dinner. My daughter’s suitors will have to fill out a questionnaire. Question #15 – “Do you bite feet?”

Today’s word is disturbing

My 5-year-old brings home a different book every night. If possible, they are supposed to read it five times to different people. I could not keep a straight face when my son read it to me. We were in hysterics laughing at the ridiculousness of the subject matter. It’s not that I find this family’s loss funny. I just cannot believe it was made into a book to teach kindergarteners sight words. Here it is:


Before we begin I read the title. “Goodbye Perky,” I say.  I haven’t seen anything perky in a decade.  “Well, let’s find out where Perky went.” How could I have known what was about to happen? This book is supposed to help my kid memorize took and we.


They took a box? Why would they need that?


Oh, they are doing some sort of art project.


A blanket? That is really too small to be a blanket. They must have found some cool project on Pinterest. I can’t wait to see what they create.


Um, Perky? Are you okay? “Is he sleeping,” asked my 5-year-old.


Whoa! What the hell happened to Perky? This book just took a turn for the worse.


Perky is gone. Could we have gotten a little warning in the prologue? “Maybe they left him out in the sun,”my 5-year-old chimed in. Clearly, my excessive use of sunblock has created an irrational fear.


Found a stone? It looks like you found a stone in your neighbor’s garden. Maybe I should find the Mercedes my retired neighbor just bought. That’s called stealing kids.


I am pretty sure there are laws about burying pets. By the way, this isn’t a conversation I want to have with my kindergartener right before he goes to bed. Sweet dreams honey. I hope you don’t have nightmares about a dead parrot.


For the love of God, will this story end already.


I am glad their parents are trying to give them closure. However, can we do this in say 5th grade?


“Why the heck would someone give a kid a book about a dead bird?” my son asked. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t speak


I really hope the school doesn’t kill the family dog while trying to teach the words with and to.


It took me an hour to rake this sorry looking pile of leaves:


Our yard was bare so I had to steal leaves from the neighbors yard. My son was quick to point out. “Those aren’t yours.” I know, I am living on the edge. There may even be a warrant out for my arrest. I had to promise him that we would borrow a few and put them back. Yes, I actually had to return wilted, filthy leaves. Damn that kindergarten teacher for teaching morals and values.

There wasn’t much to cushion their fall, but they had a blast. I am going to pull out this picture when it comes time to play Santa Claus. Every Christmas I tell myself I am not going overboard with toys this year. I am a liar. Then, a year later I end up selling items at a consignment shop for $1. Well, that was $40 well spent. It is true that your children would rather play with a cardboard box or utensils. My two younger children spent 30 minutes making funny faces into spoons yesterday:


They are like the Boxcar Children, but minus the train. Well, actually they have a million toy trains because I lied that Christmas too.

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