Monday, October 18, 2010
*****
My Hubby collects t-shirts.
Outlandish t-shirts. Hilarious t-shirts. T-shirts that make a statement, no matter how warped that statement might be.
As we circled around to leave, I looked back for one more look at this kid's seizure dance.
My Hubby collects t-shirts.
Outlandish t-shirts. Hilarious t-shirts. T-shirts that make a statement, no matter how warped that statement might be.
T-shirts like this.
And yes, the shirt is just a mess of stains and that is because he only wears these t-shirts for yard work and man work. It's not like I'm going to let him take me out to dinner in these things.
Here's another one:
Here's the one he wears when he's shooting or doing manly, gun things:
And then of course, there's the one all fathers of girls should own:
He has many others, but you get the idea.
Here's another one:
Here's the one he wears when he's shooting or doing manly, gun things:
Here's the one he wears, when he's not being a sharp shooter bad ass:
And then of course, there's the one all fathers of girls should own:
He has many others, but you get the idea.
Now, during my eye travails of the last few weeks, I was allowed to do some limited driving. If I wore my eye patch, I could see just fine with me one eye, Matie, and so this pirate girl cruised down the roads of her country town, embarrassing the smack out of her kids with her eye patch.
There is an upside to losing your vision.
But I had no choice. I had to drive, because life has to go on you know, especially when you're a mom.
I am certain the world would stop spinning if all the mothers of the universe went on strike.
So, there was this one day last week, I'd been lounging around in my jammies.
It's what I do best. Lounging. In my pajamas. I am excellent at it.
If I could, I would stay in my jams all the live long day, but alas the world seems to have some weird, unwritten rules about conducting your business while wearing your drawstring jammie pants, the ones with the pink smoochie lips everywhere accessorized by your ultra comfy polar bear slippers.
I don't understand it myself.
Anyway, I'd taken off my eye patch for a few minutes since the elastic strap was boring into my skull and giving me a tension headache. It was almost time to pick up Tori from school, so I figured I might as well attempt to look like a functioning person and get dressed. Without my eye patch, my vision was pretty much all blurry and double images. So, I opened up my t-shirt and sweat pants drawer and threw on the first thing I felt.
I strapped on my pirate patch and off I went.
The pick up drive at Tori's high school winds around in a big semi circle right in front of the school. The students' parking lot is off to the side and as you wind around the circle to pick up your child, at one point, you are directly across from the students' driveway. At the end of the day, that drive is packed with revving engines—kids itching to burst out of the confines of school.
There is a plot of grass separating these two driveways.
On this day, I noticed a teenage boy there on that grass and with my one eye, it looked like he was having a nervous breakdown, either that or he was getting electrocuted on a bright, summery day. He was gyrating with all these jerky movements. He was spazzing. He was falling down on the ground and leaping back up. It was the weirdest thing to witness.
And for a second, I thought, "Great! Now I'm having hallucinations along with my blurry vision. What the hell is wrong with my eye?"
I slowed down and watched the boy. No one else seemed to be too concerned with his seizure like behavior. In fact, the kids were all beeping their horns at him. Although, that really didn't give me much comfort. I mean, we are talking teenagers. They were probably all going, "Cool Dude! Seize up, man! Yeah!"
Since he was hopping back up pretty quickly each time he threw himself down, I drove on. I pulled up front and Tori jumped in.
I belted out, "Tori, there's a boy over there either having a nervous breakdown or a seizure!"
Tori looked back at the writhing boy and immediately started cracking up. She said, "No Mom. That's the cafeteria kid. He's just dancing. That's what he does."
I asked, baffled, "That's what he does?"
And she said, "Yeah. He used to dance in the cafeteria, but they made him stop. They said he was distracting the other kids and nobody was eating their lunch."
I was still not really getting it and I was all, "So, now he dances in the parking lot?"
And Tori gave me that little huffy cough the one all kids perfect by the age of 13, that universal signal that stands for, "Oh my Gawd! My parents know nothinnnngggg."
As she coughed her little huff, she said, "Yeahhh, that's what he does."
Duh.
Duh.
Now, here's the thing. I understand being so passionate about something, you can't contain yourself.
And I am in complete support of freedom of expression.
But I'm thinking this kid might want to find another outlet for his expression, because his gyrations did not even come close to any kind of dancing I've ever seen.
And that includes the Macarena.
And that includes the Macarena.
This expression of his was more representative of, I don't know, seizing. And I can tell you one thing for sure, he is not going to get far in life if he plans on pursuing dancing with those moves.
Maybe if he can't squelch the passion that's just dying to be freed from his dancing soul, he should think about a few basic dance lessons? I mean, in just one search, I found this: James Brown dance lessons. Might want to study up. James can teach you the Funky Chicken.
As we circled around to leave, I looked back for one more look at this kid's seizure dance.
And that's when I noticed he was on the ground. Not moving. Not moving in the least.
And since it is Florida, in the middle of a broiling afternoon and I noticed his face was quite red when I passed him the first time, all I could think of was that he had jerky bad danced himself into heat stroke.
I whipped back around the circle against Tori's protests of "PLEASE DON'T STOP. PLEASE, MOM DON'T DO THIS TO MEEEE!!!!"
But since I care more about people having heat stroke than I do about high school girls and their need to look cool at all times, I stopped right in front of the boy's slumped figure and jumped out of the car.
I got to the boy at the same time as one of the assistant principals.
As soon as we reached him, Seizure Boy jumped up and started right back into his Goober dance and said to the frowning AP, "What? I'm just dancing!"
Tori, at this point, was slumped down in the car so far, only her eyes and the top of her head visible as she hissed, "Mom, let's gooooo!", out of the half inch crack of the window.
The AP started lecturing the boy about his dancing and creating a disturbance that could lead to a car accident. The boy didn't care. He was too busy rapidly jerking his arms back and forth along to the rythmn of his whiplashing head to worry about car accidents.
And in my humble opinion, I felt like his dancing was a car accident. A big, bad one you couldn't peel your eyes away from.
At this point, I piped in with, "Yes, this is a very bad intersection. Kids don't need any distractions. Not to mention, you might get heat stroke."
It was at my sound advice that the boy immediately stopped convulsing and stared at me intently.
Because my advice is that good.
The AP, I noticed, was also staring at me just as intently, from head to toe. Although his stare seemed a bit more nervous than the boy who now had one side of his lip curled up in a smirk.
Tori's hissing plea was wafting out from her hiding place in the car, "Mom, let's gooooo!"
The AP cleared his throat nervously and said, "Okay, well thank you, ma'am. I can take things from here. Thank you."
The AP grabbed Seizure boy by the arm and started to escort him off the grass. Spazzo glanced back over his shoulder as he was being led away, looked at me and let out one long cackle.
I shook my head as I started back to the car. What a weirdo.
Tori was no longer visible at all. I knew she was now crouched down on the floorboard. This tends to happen a lot with my girls, this floorboard squatting any time I have interactions with anyone.
Whatever.
Whatever.
It wasn't until I was almost to the car that I remembered the eye patch I was sporting.
Great.
And then I realized, I forgot about my hair.
See, if it's a jammie day, I stay with the same sleep theme on all counts, meaning I don't do my hair. It's too short for a ponytail or a headband or anything but a hat.
I'd forgotten my hat.
And my bed head hair, on any given day, looks exactly like this.
I am not kidding you.
Every single day unless I wet it down, plaster it in hair products and do it up right.
I'd forgotten my hat.
And my bed head hair, on any given day, looks exactly like this.
I am not kidding you.
Every single day unless I wet it down, plaster it in hair products and do it up right.
No wonder Seizure boy was cackling.
As I got in the car, I started laughing. Laughing at the AP who must have been thinking, "Who the hell is this crazy haired pirate?"
I'm sure the boy just thought I was one of his people.
Tori was still on the floor, now in tears, begging me, "Please Mom, just drive. Drive away as fast as you can."
I started lecturing her about how she shouldn't worry about what other people think—that she shouldn't be embarrassed over a little bad-hair-day, eye-patch-wearing mom.
Heck, if I'd let embarrassing moments control my life, I'd be hiding under the covers in a quivering mass just from the one time my dress was stuck in my big ass maternity underwear, of course, while I was conducting a meeting.
Stories for another day, my friends.
But the point is, embarrassing moments happen. You laugh, you shake it off and you go on.
And I wasn't embarrassed and I didn't care what the AP or more importantly, what Seizure Dancer thought. Not in the least.
That is, until I got home.
I got out of my car and it was at that moment, I glanced down at my t-shirt, the one I'd felt around in a drawer for, because my wonky eyes couldn't see.
I realized it wasn't my t-shirt.
It was my Hubby's.
And not only was it one of his warped t-shirts. It was his worst one.
It was the one his good buddy saw in a gift shop and thought it would be a hilarious present for my hubs.
It was this:
So, take a moment.
Picture, a mom with this hair:
Sporting a black pirate patch, because my fancy ones were still on order, wearing a t-shirt covered in naked female breasts. Oh, did I mention I was barefoot?
That, Internet, was me.
Great. Now the AP thinks I'm a bad haired lesbian mother who wants to be a pirate.
And not only a lesbian, but a misogynistic lesbian. And what could be worse! Not the lesbian part, but a lesbian who's an asshole to women!
I cannot show my face at the next PTA meeting. I might just be hiding under the covers instead.
A few bits of homework this week. Sorry I haven't been around. I was quite busy last week with a little trip I took and life and writing and recovering my eyesight and all of that. This week will be just as sporadic because I am leaving once again for an extended girls' weekend up to the city of Chicago. I will be with my sisters and some friends of ours who are like sisters to me and the combination of all of us together means, no one in Chicago has seen the likes of our kind of nonsense, since the days of Al Capone. If you hear about anything going down in Chicago, please don't worry, I have connections up there and I will more than likely be able to weasel myself out of any sticky situation. Just so you know.
I'll try to pop in again this week, but know that next week, life goes back to normal.
Well, as normal as pirate asshole lesbian mothers lives can get.
And then, I have a plea. My dear friend Gigi of Kludgy Mom, is vying for a 6 month writing gig as a Good Mood Blogger for Sam-E Health Products. If you don't know Gigi, I'll tell you this, she is one of the best bloggers out there. She's funny and smart and her writing is so filled with wisdom and snark and substance and truth and humor. The contest is based on votes and so if you have just a few seconds in your day, to just hit this link and then vote. You can vote once a day. Gigi would certainly appreciate it. And I would too, because I really love this girl. I love this girl as much as I love peanut butter pie. And I love peanut butter pie, a lot. So, go vote for Gigi. She's worth it. Good luck, Geeg!
Today's Definite Download: Bob Schneider's "The World Exploded Into Love".
Because we have watched miracles happen this week.
Because 33 men were lost without much hope. And now, they are found. And they are safe. And home in the arms of their loved ones. Because the world held their breath and prayed together and stayed vigilant and watched and cheered and cried as 33 men were pulled from the middle of the earth into the light, into a second chance to begin again.
In these days filled with dark news about war and terrorism and a dismal global economy and a lack of understanding and tolerance for our fellow beings, there was our miners. And it is how we all feel, they are ours. The world exploded into love as the miners were lifted out of their underground prison.
I once was lost, but now am found.
Amazing Grace, indeed.
Speaking of t-shirts, I'm getting one that says, "I ♥ The Chilean Miners, Even The Cheater."
There is a universe that can't be seen
Just a feeling if you know what I mean
A delectable dimension undetectable by sight
It'll fill up your heart in the dead of the night
Some say it's an astral plane
That can't be described can't be explained
The world exploded into love all around me
The world exploded into love all around me
And everytime I take a look around me
I have to smile.
I started lecturing her about how she shouldn't worry about what other people think—that she shouldn't be embarrassed over a little bad-hair-day, eye-patch-wearing mom.
Heck, if I'd let embarrassing moments control my life, I'd be hiding under the covers in a quivering mass just from the one time my dress was stuck in my big ass maternity underwear, of course, while I was conducting a meeting.
Stories for another day, my friends.
But the point is, embarrassing moments happen. You laugh, you shake it off and you go on.
And I wasn't embarrassed and I didn't care what the AP or more importantly, what Seizure Dancer thought. Not in the least.
That is, until I got home.
I got out of my car and it was at that moment, I glanced down at my t-shirt, the one I'd felt around in a drawer for, because my wonky eyes couldn't see.
I realized it wasn't my t-shirt.
It was my Hubby's.
And not only was it one of his warped t-shirts. It was his worst one.
It was the one his good buddy saw in a gift shop and thought it would be a hilarious present for my hubs.
It was this:
So, take a moment.
Picture, a mom with this hair:
Sporting a black pirate patch, because my fancy ones were still on order, wearing a t-shirt covered in naked female breasts. Oh, did I mention I was barefoot?
That, Internet, was me.
Great. Now the AP thinks I'm a bad haired lesbian mother who wants to be a pirate.
And not only a lesbian, but a misogynistic lesbian. And what could be worse! Not the lesbian part, but a lesbian who's an asshole to women!
I cannot show my face at the next PTA meeting. I might just be hiding under the covers instead.
A few bits of homework this week. Sorry I haven't been around. I was quite busy last week with a little trip I took and life and writing and recovering my eyesight and all of that. This week will be just as sporadic because I am leaving once again for an extended girls' weekend up to the city of Chicago. I will be with my sisters and some friends of ours who are like sisters to me and the combination of all of us together means, no one in Chicago has seen the likes of our kind of nonsense, since the days of Al Capone. If you hear about anything going down in Chicago, please don't worry, I have connections up there and I will more than likely be able to weasel myself out of any sticky situation. Just so you know.
I'll try to pop in again this week, but know that next week, life goes back to normal.
Well, as normal as pirate asshole lesbian mothers lives can get.
And then, I have a plea. My dear friend Gigi of Kludgy Mom, is vying for a 6 month writing gig as a Good Mood Blogger for Sam-E Health Products. If you don't know Gigi, I'll tell you this, she is one of the best bloggers out there. She's funny and smart and her writing is so filled with wisdom and snark and substance and truth and humor. The contest is based on votes and so if you have just a few seconds in your day, to just hit this link and then vote. You can vote once a day. Gigi would certainly appreciate it. And I would too, because I really love this girl. I love this girl as much as I love peanut butter pie. And I love peanut butter pie, a lot. So, go vote for Gigi. She's worth it. Good luck, Geeg!
Today's Definite Download: Bob Schneider's "The World Exploded Into Love".
Because we have watched miracles happen this week.
Because 33 men were lost without much hope. And now, they are found. And they are safe. And home in the arms of their loved ones. Because the world held their breath and prayed together and stayed vigilant and watched and cheered and cried as 33 men were pulled from the middle of the earth into the light, into a second chance to begin again.
In these days filled with dark news about war and terrorism and a dismal global economy and a lack of understanding and tolerance for our fellow beings, there was our miners. And it is how we all feel, they are ours. The world exploded into love as the miners were lifted out of their underground prison.
I once was lost, but now am found.
Amazing Grace, indeed.
Speaking of t-shirts, I'm getting one that says, "I ♥ The Chilean Miners, Even The Cheater."
There is a universe that can't be seen
Just a feeling if you know what I mean
A delectable dimension undetectable by sight
It'll fill up your heart in the dead of the night
Some say it's an astral plane
That can't be described can't be explained
The world exploded into love all around me
The world exploded into love all around me
And everytime I take a look around me
I have to smile.
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62 comments:
you are the best.
you just are .
have yourself some fun...
and take your meds.
for your blood pressure I mean. :)
This reminds me of two things. One, the T-Shirt my then-boyfriend brought back from Bare Assets, with it's logo and name embroidered, somewhat tastefully. I would, occasionally, wear this out running errands and the guys at Lowe's never did know what to make of me.
Two, shortly after we moved in together the current boyfriend was getting ready to mow the yard. His t-shirt of choice was a Hot Pockets promo tee with the words Crispy & Cheesy on the front. Okay, right? On the back? Nice & Easy.
Sigh... this was before I didn't care what our neighbors might think of it.
Seriously?
We are now best friends.
Infidel.
Can you even imagine what weirdo jerky dancing boy's mom feels like? I bet she makes him ride the bus home so no one sees them together! : )
OMG. I cannot wait to do something like this to my kids when they're teens.
Because I will be older than you are right now and even battier.
Woo hoo!
The tshirt was the icing on the cake, BTW.
Thank you so much for the shout out. I have so many people pulling for me, and still fell out of the top 20 yesterday. I hate popularity contests. I'm not good at them!
p.s. I have officially returnd to reading blogs and being a contributing member of bloggy society.
he should get with snookie from jersey shore. she randomly busts a move on boardwalks. she calls it 'dancing' i call it 'making an arse of oneself.'
You wouldn't be doing your job as a mom if you weren't embarrassing your spawn.
I am taking notes, my mommy idol!
Also, did you read all the drama with the miners and how a bunch of them had wives AND mistresses waiting for them??
Thank you Jesus I'm not the only one who makes an absolute fool of myself without even trying. It really is a blessing.
Quite, quite brilliant! Thank you for making me laugh so hard! Oh your poor daughter, she must have been cringing in her car seat :-)
Bahahahaha! I accidentally wore one of mine out the other day for a jog with the Papillons. It usually only sees the inside of the studio because it reads, "Queen of the Fucking Universe --Any Questions?"
A gay friend bought it for me in San Fran at the big Pride Parade. Heeeee.
OMG. I can picture this. HILARIOUS!!!
At least you were out of the pajama pants, right?
I have to stop reading your blog at work because it makes me laugh. And work isn't funny. So I try to conceal my laughter but usually end up convulsing (did somebody say seizures?) and shaking like a crazy person.
Cheers!
-existenceET.blog.spot.com
lmao that was awesome!!
I can see why your daughter just wanted to die. Me? I think you are hysterical and your doing your job as a mother beautifully!
I have not laughed this long in a long time. The shirt. The patch. The hair. The barefoot-ed-ness.
Of course the whole PTA thing might be an up point, right? One less meeting to attend.
I would definitely wear the miners t-shirt. That would be awesome.
I love Gigi, too! Thanks for the voting reminder.
Have fun in Chicago!
That's hilarious!! Seriously. I think you should just keep wearing that shirt as if you did it on purpose.
Just a typical day in the life of Joann, right! Well, NOW I HAVE TO CHANGE MY PANTS, thank you very much!
When those shirts get too holey, cut the sayings off the front in a neat aquare, and make a throw.
Go to my blog and scroll down on the right to my encaustic, Time. The face and quote on that I got from one of my tee shirts. After I wore it to hell and back, I cut the picture and quote out and sewed them to the front of an apron!
Incidentally, my Halloween tee is black with a ghost on the front, and the words "Sheet Faced" underneath!
That is too funny! I love it. Your poor daughter. lol
You are totally my hero!
I looked out my bedroom window once and my neighbor was waving to her son as he got on the bus and I thought - why is she already in her bikini? Then as I was turning away, I thought, no way does she look like THAT in a bikini and then I saw she was wearing one of those bikini body t-shirts and she was doing it ON Purpose, with bed head, a cigarette dangling from her mouth and no underwear, so in the scheme of things, you are a doing OK! Happy Monday!
This is beyond awesome. The patch, the seizure dancing, all of it.
Has your life always been such good fodder?
Yeah. You might just be the girl I'm looking for. I want to get a couple wedding dresses from the thrift shop and like,....nuns habits and stuff. And I want you and I to go to the grocery store in them. Or wear something like your "saving the seizer" outfit. And act like foreigners. For some reason, I can't get my daughter to do this with me. Hey, I wonder why the psych doubled my Lamictal today?
Well, first of all- I had to go look up the word 'misogynistic' or whatever it is on Urban Dictionary, which was quite enlightening.
That T shirt is hilarious, thanks for the laugh.
I also like quirky TShirts. I have one that says "My milkshake feeds all the kids in the yard", which I bought when I was breastfeeding Alex, because I think it's awesome that boobies feed babies.
My twelve year old?
Doesn't think it's awesome.
Hates it when I wear that shirt.
I also have one with a big bullseyes around the breasts, which I bought in support of breast cancer awareness.
He's not keen on breast cancer awareness, either, apparently.
OMG that is hilarious! Poor you...poor daughter!
Oh my! I was already chuckling, picturing the spastic boy and the pirate mom... then nearly fell off my chair with the photo of the shirt.
Upon closer inspection, I believe my girls are from wine county.
When you get so many comments, mine probably gets lost. But I'm gonna leave it anyway.
rock! I'd love to have a pirate like you living next door. We could take dance lessons together! And embarrass our kids! Yay!
OMG, Joann...I think this was the funniest one ever. Truly...I choked on my coffee and I didn't just "LOL"...I guffawed so loudly that my hubby thought I was dying. Hilarious.
Perhaps I related so strongly to this one because (A) my husband also has a collection of truly tacky and inappropriate t-shirts, and (B) I also do the drive to the high school every single day and so I know how easy it is to thoroughly embarrass your offspring. Simply by living. And breathing. So I can imagine the horror your daughter was feeling. Hee Hee.
And Furry - I have got to get one of those t-shirts. Queen of the Fucking Universe. Love it!
Joann, THANK YOU for this one!
Oh my goodness...I'm dying while reading this. I love those shirts, my husband is always joking about getting a collection of klassy shirts like that. And yes the "k" in klassy is purposeful, because these shirts are just THAT spectacular;)
I've also seen many a people who fit the description you've given at my local grocery store early in the morning.
Love those t-shirts your man wear! Love YOU Pirate Woman! Now, I gotta get out to the parking lot and start my dancing....
Too freakin' funny! I always say that embarrassing our kids is one of the perks of parenting! Today, I sat outside on the front step in my footie pajamas..the ones with the sock monkey on the chest and the feet have sock monkey heads, complete with button eyes and ears that flop out to the sides. I got several glares from walkers and motorists. I just laughed. Oh yea, and my hair is short, curly and frizzy and sticks straight up until I tame it as well. It isn't tame now as I sit in my Monkey footies.
Also, my hubbie has that shirt only it was from the Dominican Republic and has different tit titles. He wore it one day and my daughter's friend's mom said, "oh...these ones are mine!" and pointed to something small. My hubbie said, "no they aren't." She said, "yes they are! Look!" And she proceeded to lift up her shirt to show him. At the bus stop. With the kids there. So...your daughter can look at the bright side here! =)
oh my.....
i'm dying picturing this in my head, joann. perfect timing, too. today, after all the drama of the last 10 days, i can laugh again. and this was simply perfection.
i think i love you, ms. pirate patch lesbian boobie t-shirt wearing mama.
;-)
MWAH!
p.s. off to vote for Gigi!!!
Oh yes, a good embarrassing moment is key to every snarky teenager out there. Builds character. Usually it's my husbands department to fill this need but I occasionally will chip in too. We want character filled kids don't we?
Nice t-shirts. Especially yours. Thanks for the laugh. ;)
That is too funny. You're a good citizen and a great mom, even if your kids don't realize it until they have kids of their own. Don't ever throw away any of your Hubby's t-shirts. Have them made into a quilt someday. An amazingly awesome, totally inappropriate quilt!!!
I don't know which is funnier - the fact that kid thought he had skillz, or the image of you with an eye patch and bed head.
Poor Tori!
I'm crying. CRYING!!
Is that a shot of Larry King?
Tears... streaming down my face... oh my god!!!!!
My husband has a tee from a place in Colorado that says "Beaver Liquors" (it's an actual liquor store in Vail or Aspen... can't really remember...) Anyway, I don't let him wear it in public. At least not when I'm around.
Your poor daughter... ;-P
HA! I think you should totally make this your official pick the kids up from school garb for all of October. You could be in costume all month- Now that is cool!
You probably made that kid's day as he got a look at you. I know I would have giggled furiously for at least a month.
But bless your heart for seeing if he was conscious or alive, in spite of the gravity of your appearance. ;)
Gotta love your hubby's choice of t-shirts too!
I will carry the mental image of you dressed as a wild-haired lesbian pirate, spasmodic dancer boy, and the baffled AP in my memory forever. This will be one of the images I call up on the days when I need a laugh, and when I need to remember not to take life so seriously.
Your poor, sweet daughter - she will probably take this image with her, too... all the way to the therapist's couch. ;) The suffering of a 13 year old never ends.
Wow. Just...wow. Sleep hair, eyepatch, and boob shirt? THAT, my friend, is a winning combination.
Oh, what a wonderful thing to find here today!!
Do you know that NO ONE tells a story better'n you.
NO ONE.
The average person would've covered that in one sentence, "my hair was nutz, I had the eyepatch on, and a lezbo T shirt. Talk about embarrassing."
Oh, but, this...this? Was so wonderful and delicious and I lapped up every word and enjoyed every cackle with the build up.
And the visual...that was slowly pieced together: first crazy butinski mom, next the hair, now throw in the eyepatch..wait, now there's a warning about heatstroke...and, think she's done? NOPE.
We got breasteses...yes, breasteses...all over her ...breasteses.
THANK YOU!
Cuz there is NOTHING I love better than to laugh!!
Thank you, dear wonderful writer.
Holy crappidy crap! That dancing kid story is AWESOME.
Now, don't take this the wrong way, and this might be hard to believe, but that is TOTALLY something I would do when I was in Junior High.
Toooooo funny! Reminds me of the time the bus didn't come and I had to take the kids to school and they were late which means you have to sign them in. Problem being my back was out and I could barely stand and I was in my bath robe. The kids went in and explained to the VP that I was in the van and could he bring the forms outside. He refused. I had to go into the office - my poor kids were mortified. As was I. BTW - my Hulk post is up.
Joann, you are hilarious, and I bet that pirate patch looks nothing but sexy!
As for your husband's tshirts, I'm still crying with laughter: the guy seriously picks one for every occasion? I think he and my husband may be long lost brothers!
I know the eye situation is taking its toll on you, but your spirt and sense of humor are not to be outdone now or ever! xoxox
That was so funny! Your husband's t-shirts crack me up. I thought I knew where you were going with your story, but never did I think it would be a shirt like that! LOL
Have fun on your girls trip!
What a wonderfully convoluted tale!
Also, I saw an interview with a guy who was in that Andes cannibal plane crash of 1972. He was totally talking smack about the Chilean miners, saying they were staying in a 5-star resort compared to the hell he experienced. Like he was really mad. Hilarious.
I can't wait to embarrass my kids but that story was so god-awful I couldn't help but laugh and cry for your daughter. HA! And I love the idea for the Chilean miner t-shirt. :)
That was hilarious!
The silver lining is that your daughter is now walking to school because she's too embarrassed to be seen with you, right? right? Well if this didn't push her over the edge, perhaps next time you can dress as Lady Gaga :)
Why do you torture your daughter so? I always thought in the 80's it was called the 'SAFETY DANCE' not the seizure dance. I want to irritate my kid too - where can I get an eye-patch and that 'Crazy' homeless-hair! W.C.C.
OMG that was soooo funny, I literally couldn't stop laughing and tears started pouring down my face! hubby thinks I'm crazy now, well he did until I told him about your boobie pirate attire, now you're just the crazy one! ha! I can't believe that eye is still like that. I really hope things get fixed for you soon!
OH My Lord! I love his t-shirts!!!
Your poor child. Do you want $$ for future therapy for her?!
Once I went out of the house to dog class and I had my shirt on inside out and backwards.
Luckily, Emily was with and 1/2 way through class she came up to me and brought me my jacket. She quiety told me to just put it on. I didn't find out why she said that until after class. She thought it was hilarious!!!
I have a great kid.
That beats the time I got in trouble for picking my kids up from the Christian school in my jogging bra. I threatened to show up in my bathing suit if the school gave me any more crap about it. My kids were horrified.
But you, my dear, win. I bow to you. That is an awesome story!
OK, LMAO ~ and I NEVER use that acronym! Spazzo probably felt some kind of weird kinship with you, no?
Teenagers are so funny. They go from needing to be the center of attention (the dancing cafeteria boy) to wanting to be invisible (your daughter). The things is, it has to be on their terms.
Oh. My. Word! That t-shirt! And, the visuals of your story were spectacular.
But, I must know...what is UP with that dancing fool? Hopefully, the mystery will be solved and revealed someday.
Ha Ha! I think you just gave me a seizure! Every morning is an adventure as I wonder if it will be the day I get in a fender bender and get to show off my outfit: )
You are hilarious, I might be in love.
And as a side note? Your husband probably doesn't care, but I have to comment on the shirt with Arabic on it. I was super excited to see it, as I studied Arabic for years and years at school, and spent summers studying in Morocco and Tunisia, so the sight of Arabic writing always makes me feel warm and snuggly. But in case you care about these types of things - the shirt's right, it does mean non-believer. But in some places, mainly Arab African nations, it's often used as a derogatory word for black people. So my first reaction was that you'd were wearing a shirt with the n-word on it.
The more you know *Sparkle stars*
You are my favorite guilty pleasure. Not my only. I like pleasure too much. But my favorite, indeed.
Oh my Gosh, you're killing me. I don't think I've laughed so hard in my life. Where do you find these pictures?
OMG I am SO behind in catching up on the ol' blog roll!
Dying. Just.Absolutely.Dying!
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