What his baby wants, his baby gets

Gerald and I have been married a number of years now. Oh yeah, total bliss, you know it’s true. I must say that Gerald does try his best to keep his baby happy. No matter how asinine the request may seem to him, Gerald has learned to just do it anyway, no questions asked. This doesn’t mean we haven’t run into some “interesting” results along the way though.

Take for instance, The Shopping List. You just can’t get more complicated¬†than a shopping list drafted by yours truly. You take my food intolerances, Gerald’s food preferences/dislikes, plus the boys’ favorite items, and you know it’s gonna be one crazy time-consuming trip to the grocery store. But Gerald will go for me anyway. It can be too hot, too muggy, too cold, too whatever for me, and my honey will go. Yes, I’m the one who regularly trudges to the store, but Gerald willingly goes for me when begged asked.

Gerald blames the awful handwriting, but I believe it’s more that he doesn’t pay attention to the minute detail of my typical meal planning / food preparation. Specific brands and quantity are¬†important, Gerald.

He’s come home with corn tortilla chips instead of corn tortillas. The fix? We turned the tacos into nachos. One time Gerald got me the protein bars with the high sugar alcohol levels. Sugar alcohols and my system is just a disaster waiting to happen, people! The fix? I gave them to a co-worker. I think she was okay. I didn’t stick around to find out though.

At Thanksgiving a few years ago, Gerald was tasked with a run to the store for just two items so no list was necessary, right? Wrong. You can’t expect a man to capture the crucial details that it’s Breyer’s with a ‘B’ ice cream. Do NOT get the Dreyer’s with a ‘D’. I can only tolerate the Breyer’s, with a ‘B’. So what do you think the man comes home with? Yep, the ‘D’ ice cream. Tis okay, guess who had to make another trip to Kroger?

That same day, I tasked Gerald with buying two fall-ish floral arrangements. The man comes home with two fall-ish plants. Plants? What am I going to do with plants? Oh, that’s right, kill them. I didn’t want plants, Gerald! Solution? We kept them around long enough for the T-Day dinner, but the plants were promptly sent home with my mother-in-law. They would at least have a fighting chance! Gerald claims he didn’t really know the difference between a bouquet and a plant.

The moral of the story? What Gerald’s baby wants, Gerald’s baby gets. But not always.



Bun over at Bun Karyudo handles writer’s block much better than I do.

So here’s my writer’s block experience of the moment. I worked on a few post ideas the last couple weeks but none passed the “Gerald” test. When Gerald tells me something is kind of boring, I’m positive it’s a big FAIL. One story was me reminiscing about my Grandpa and his love of curbs as an old man driver. I didn’t even get a grin from my Gerald so I knew it must’ve been pretty bad. I may still work on it, but for now, I parked it on the shelf.

It's parked
It’s parked

The other post I worked on was sort of “Part 2” to last year’s nerdy hooker post. We had another fun dress up week at work several weeks ago and I was attempting to recapture the same magic as last year. I believe the problem was that THIS year, I was more prepared. I remembered what every day’s theme was and dressed accordingly. Unfortunately, there were no funny stories to tell from the week. No one mistook me for a nerdy 80’s hooker. I remembered to wear purple on Purple Day, and green on Green Day. I remembered my crazy socks on… Crazy Socks Day. BOR-ING. I mean, I have to apologize to my readers. I know you expect so much less from me. I’m sure you have come to expect some ridiculous story resulting from my forgetfulness or my typical fashion fails. So that post idea was out the window, or at least another on the shelf.

My parents came to visit this past weekend and I thought about describing the coffee maker to-do, or maybe how my parents ended up with Gerald’s Reef flip-flops at their house, a good four hours away. But nope, nothing has really inspired a good post idea.

In the meantime, while I try to get past my writing dry spell, be sure to check out Bun’s blog. You won’t be sorry. And be sure to visit my other favorite bloggers. Here’s hoping I’ll be inspired by something, and soon.


The nastiest bathroom

This is more an AFTER shot
This is more an AFTER shot. The BEFORE was more yellow.

I am certain my boys are secretly participating in some Nastiest Bathroom contest. I wonder if they’ll be upset with me in the morning when they realize I’ve dashed their hopes of bringing home a first place win.

Crystallized pee. And do you think they realize the sink’s water spout/spicket isn’t supposed to be solid black?

It’s only been a few weeks since the last–and final because I canceled the service–house cleaning service came. I had had enough for a while, but Gerald finally reached his breaking point when the cleaning ladies were being too hard on our bathroom fixtures (again), and we were just certain they would end up causing a costly repair.

But anyway, back to the boys’ bathroom. I had meant to get to it last weekend but since I spent the whole day on the kitchen, I didn’t bother with anything else. Oh, I’ll get to it during the week. Yeah, right.

I’m the only one who cleans my house like I want. I actually use elbow grease. I’m pretty sure most cleaning services don’t know about this secret “ingredient.” Anyway, every time we’ve gotten rid of a maid service, which has turned out to be pretty frequently, I figure I can handle it all by myself.

Then reality sets in. I realize if I attempt to be the sole cleaner of my house, I will literally whittle away my entire weekend to thoroughly sanitize my home, only to have to do the same damn thing in another couple weeks. And then there was last night. Oh yes, after last night’s venture into the boys’ bathroom, it really hit me that I don’t WANT to clean up after them. An expensive, mediocre cleaning service is just what’s in order.

I plan on getting a new service soon, but in the meantime, the boys will have to settle for 3rd place in the Nastiest Bathroom competition.


Swag bag scramble

I am certain the following described events never occur in other households.

I attended a recent “health” fair event at my workplace. The typical vendors were there – eyes, dental, medical, fire safety, credit union, etc. Most the popular vendor booths were giving away the cool little freebies. Water bottles, pens, flashlights, clip magnets, canvas totes, etc. Yeah, the majority of it is cheapy stuff but I believe that for whatever reason, most of us like to collect this free clutter crap.

I get home with my scored items to show off to my family I got simply by walking around and half-assed listening intently to the vendors’ spiels. Small price to pay for this super cool can’t-go-in-the-dishwasher-super-thin water bottle! Ha! Take that, kids! That’s when I realized I forgot an important lesson I had learned when I went to a previous year’s health fair – The kids snatch up and claim ownership of the cool items so fast, you don’t even know what hit you. And you can’t stop them and say “No.” I mean, it’s quite obvious I do not need another key ring flashlight. And yes, this tote bag would be a great Halloween candy receptacle. (sigh) Easy come, easy go.

Give it a few days and Gerald had gone to a charity golf tournament. The last time he went to one of these golf dealies, he came back with what the celebrities call a swag-bag. Yes, I am fully aware Gerald’s golf goodie bag contents do not compare to that of the grab-bags afforded celebrities at their fancy shmancy events, but it’s a swag-bag for us everyday Joes and Janes, it’s a goodie bag for the common folk, people!

As expected, Gerald walks through the door with his own collected freebies and the kids were all over it. Golf balls and golf tees – You can keep those, Gerald. Koozie – I think we need one more koozie to add to the classy collection we already have stowed in our pantry. Stylus pen – Where did that thing go?? Oh, the youngest claimed it. Broken flashlight keychain – Surprisingly, no one wanted this little gem. It actually made it to the trash. The cool backpack bag all Gerald’s stuff came in? Yeah, I claimed that for when we go for our walks; it will be great for holding water bottles and doggy doo bags. Maybe it will actually last longer than the other cheap string backpacks we’ve already gone through. (a big HA goes here)

It's such a valuable collection, there are even some still in their original wrappers!
It’s such a valuable collection, there are even some koozies still in their original wrappers!

There you have it. Before you even know what happens, your children strip you of everything. And I’ve just given the goodie/swag bags as an example. I’m sure in other households, the children don’t swipe nail-clippers, screen cleaner cloths, the last of the chips, the last of the cookies, oh and Gerald just reminded me — money. I never have any idea what sort of bills, if any at all, are lurking in my wallet. I’ll set the record straight here though – the boys don’t swipe money from Mom and Dad unless they ask first. I tell them to look in my wallet and take what they need for some school something or other.

So am I right? Does this sort of phenomenon happen to anyone else? It’s just my family, isn’t it?