(First off? Some background.)

You know how baby experts love to say, “Sing to your baby. Even if you are off key, its ok. Your baby will LOVE the sound of your voice?” Well, when I sang to my baby. He’d cry harder. When he was old enough to speak, he’d scream, “Noooooo, Maaa-eee. Noooooo”. (In fact if the boy is meandering around and I’m running low on patience? All I have to say is, “If you don’t get going, I’m gonna start singing…” And it always makes him pick up his pace.)

In other words, I am a sucky singer. And the last thing I want to do is subject society to me croaking along to “Barbie Girl.” SO without further ado…

 Things I would do before I EVER sing Karaoke

1.) Attend six back-to-back catholic wedding masses without a bathroom break.

2.) Have sex with our creepy mailman.

3.) Package, produce and distribute my own homemade sex tape (with creepy, old mailman).

4.) Give said sex tape as a Christmas gift to my husband, parents, siblings and in-laws.  

5.) Make it my life’s work to convince every person on the planet that Tom Cruise is, indeed, straight.

6.) Become Ann Colture’s presidential campaign manager consequently, spending our life savings trying to get her elected.

7.) Lick my dog’s butt (Oh wait. Let’s rethink that… Nope. I’d lick my dog’s but before I’d sing karaoke or even become Ann Colture’s campaign manager, now that I think about it.)

8.) Pick someone else’s nose.

9.) Swallow the clumps of used chewing tobacco my husband likes to occasionally leave in various cups around the house. (Gag.)

10. Become a proctologist and offer free exams to close relatives.

Dear Viola Trash Service,

Although our account is up-to-date, you haven’t been picking up our trash for weeks now. You haven’t been returning my phone calls either. But you DID make time to send me a bill for the next three months of service. Are you f*cking kidding me?

A hex upon thee: May your air-conditioning system fail while clogged toilets spew sewage all over the floors thereby causing a noxious stink that, due to the heat, bakes into every porous surface. And? May everyone violently gag when entering said workplace (for at least five minutes at a time) for no less than SIX MONTHS.

Other that? Love and cold puppy noses, 

Lisa

Dear Quest Labs,

A few weeks ago you drew FIVE vials of my blood.  I made an appointment for 4:50 p.m. because one of the tests required I have my blood drawn after 5 p.m. You close then. So I scheduled it as late as I could. I got there on time. One of your employees was so quick to get out of there, she gave me slews of dirty looks. I was easily out by 5 p.m. But apparently, in her haste to get her drink on, the vials were lost.

 You apparently have “no record” of my tests, vials of blood, or that I was even there, according to my doctor’s office. So please explain to me… WHY did I just get a bill for the supposed testing of that blood today? WTF!

A hex upon thee: May you get an unexpected, enormously heavy period while wearing white pants and no undies early into a hot date with a new guy. And may you be in that place without a tampon.

Love and cold puppy noses, 

Lisa

P.S. Are you or any of your fellow blog buds sending your kiddos off to kindergarten in a few weeks? Please let me know.

Fergie watch out. There’s a new bitch in town. She’s hot, has never had a meth addiction and? She has a song of her own… But just a little FYI to you squirrels and bunnies out there. Watch your back cause this ‘ho can eff you up! I’m talking ’bout the one and only Abbeydog, aka “Doodles”, or “Abbalicous“. So without further ado…

Listen up ya’ll, Cuz this is it
The beat that I’m barking is not vicious [Abbey]
Abbalicious definition make them boy dogs go loco
They want my treasure so they get their kicks from sniffin’ my butthole
You can lick me, you can sniff me
But I ain’t easy, I ain’t sleazy
I got reasons why I tease ‘em
Boy dogs in heat and for no reason
[Hook] Abbalicious (so delicious)
But I ain’t promiscuous
I’ll be your friend if ya got biscuits.
My spots are real and not fictitious
Where’s my treats? (mmmwwahhh)
I might sniff your crotch, crotch
Give me a bellyrub, I’ll show you what I got

[Chorus] So delicious (It’s hot, hot)
Doodle-icious (I put them boys on rock, rock)
So delicious (they wanna sniff of what I got)
I’m Abbalicious (Got black spots on my tongue check, it, check it out)

A certain neighborhood dog I call “Sneakashit” (or “sneaks” for short) runs loose in our ‘hood on a regular basis. “Sneaks” often tries to get into our house whenever we open the door (to let our own dog out to pee). “Sneaks” poops alot. And when she does so, prefers our yard and has shit not only in our house but several times in our garage. (Guess why I’m so anal about keeping the garage door closed!) Since she’s been hanging around our house most of Sunday and Monday, I decided to clean out the fridge.

And what to my wandering eyes should appear but some canned chili, refried beans, and chopped raw onion. So thanks to “Sneaks”, who was more than happy to eat up the leftovers, our fridge is a bit cleaner. But “Sneak’s” owner’s house? May be a bit stinkier….

And that’s completely ok with me. Recently these people showed up in our backyard, unwelcomed and guilted my hubby into inviting their child over for a playdate. Then, they LEFT FOR SEVERAL HOURS without telling us. When they showed up to claim the child (A SIX HOUR PLAYDATE!) they offered the lamest of excuses. They HAD to see a certain movie. And they told their oldest child — THE ONE WITH A DRUG PROBLEM — to watch said child. He didn’t. He left. Which would explain why, when we tried to called over there, no one answered.

Sadly the aforementioned instance is just one of many, many stories I could tell you regarding this certain family. Why yes, I AM resentful of the way they have repeatedly taken advantage of our kindness without so much as a “thank you.” I’m also resentful of how now that we aren’t so willing to help them out they force themselves upon us anyway. So while I’m not proud to admit my passive aggressive tendencies, I do have to say, thinking about the stink that “Sneaks” has unleashed in their house on a night far too cold to open the windows? DOES make my day a little brighter.

Haikus

Oh little boy Seth
Your toys litter various rooms.
PLEASE, please pick them up.

Black, white and spotted
Abbeydog, get OFF the bed.
And please barf outside.

My dear Honeybuns
I love you so much more when –
you aren’t so gassy.

Oh lovely Dyson
A quite talented vaccum –
well worth the money.

Cool bloggin’ mommies
Reading your posts keep me sane.
I love all of you.

Sunday marks my two-year blog anniversary. I decided to take an entry from two years ago — back when I still had no idea what a blog was and had even less of a clue where this journey would lead me.

I’ve gotten to “meet” so many wonderful people through this blog. Its been a wonderful, creative outlet. You all have made me laugh out loud and think about the posts you write. And even after all of these years, I still get a thrill when someone has commented on a post of mine. Thank you for taking time out of your days to read what I’ve written. You have no idea how much that means to me.

An Ode to Boobies (from the mind of a hungry 2-month-old and written down by his deliriously sleep-deprived mommy in the late summer of 2002.)

I am a baby
therefore I can not chew.
And that’s why boobies
I love you.

You’re warm, soft
and easy to cuddle.
I love to bury my face in your softness
and snuggle.

Boobies, boobies, boobies
you are so pretty.
And my mommy has the bestest
boobies in the city.*

Boobies, boobies, boobies
I am so happy there are two.
Because boobies, boobies, boobies. Oh sweet boobies,
Oh comfortable, wonderful boobies, I love you.

*Nope, I sure don’t have the bestest boobies. But hey, I needed something to rhyme with “pretty.”

As the hubby is on a 9-day biz trip, (KILL ME NOW!) the boy and I went out last night for a fine dining experience (at Long John Silvers). Afterwards we took a short walk to Best Buy.

When it comes to television entertainment, the hubby and I like to expose our boy to the pop culture “classics”. While he’s loving Looney Tunes, Speed Racer, and The Muppets, he’s become a rabid fan of Little Rascals shorts too. (Yeah, that’s kicking it old school, huh?)

Which is why we were in Best Buy. I figured if anyone would have the most recent Little Rascals movie, (from 1990-something…) it would be them. And yes, we weren’t disappointed.

So in line at the checkout, Seth sees “The Geek Squad” center.

Seth: “Mooommmm. What does g-e-e-k say?”
Me: “It says, ‘Geek’.”
Seth: (looks confused) “What’s a geek.”
Me: “It is someone who’s very smart and good with computers but dresses badly.”
Seth: (thinks for a moment and smiles) “Like daddy?”
Me: (look at the employee ringing up our stuff who’s smirking) “Yeah. Like daddy.”
Seth: “Daddy has boobie hair.”
Me: (Get an uneasy feeling cause I don’t know where this is going…)”Uh, yeah.”
Seth: “Do YOU have boobie hair?”
Me: “Nope.”
Seth: (Sly smile crossing his face.) “Yyyyessss you do!”
Me: (Oh dear God!) “No I don’t Seth.”
Seth: “Uh huh. Yes you do.”
Me: “I don’t have a hairy chest. If I did, I would know.”
Seth: “Yes you DO!”
Me: (Can’t even look at the pre-pubescent employee who by this time has FINALLY finished the transaction.) Sigh… Because now this kid is wondering if I really DO have booby hair.

For the record? I don’t have a hairy chest! Really.

I can’t wait until he’s in that “I’m humiliated just standing next to you, mom” phase. If there’s one life lesson he’ll be learning then, its this one: Payback’s a bitch, son!