My husband and I approach things very differently. (I’m pretty sure we’re not the only couple who’d say this.) But our end result is often the same – from the outcome of a task to a location we’re heading…
Case in point: How to peel a Halo. Recently, we each had one, and when I scooped up the skins to throw away, I got distracted and set them down on my way through the kitchen. (Shocker, he’d tell you!) Anyway… when I walked back through to grab the orange skins and toss them, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Take a look for yourself:
He: the neatnik
Me: the proverbial 12-year-old boy… a little messy…. 😉
It’s time!! The day football fans have been working toward for months…. mammoth amounts of wings, beer, chips, dip, guacamole (Zantac, anyone?), shameless screaming at officials who can’t hear us, and The.Most.Important.Part – the commercials …. Super Bowl Sunday has arrived!
In the spirit of the day and in honor of one of my favorite friends who is a HUUUUUUGE football fan who counts down to the start of every football season…. Sorry, Bex, the Cowboys still aren’t there and it’ll be seven long months until football season returns. 😉
To all the football fans out there – including The Mr. ….
Parents, how many times have you heard THAT question?
Remember your first road trip with your kids when you had more than one cherub and ruckus was sure to happen any minute or, even tougher – parents traveled with kids and without DVD players in vehicles? Did the kiddos drive you nuts??
Well, this weekend was our turn – our first-ever road trip with ‘the kids’ – my husband’s soon-to-be 20 y/o daughter whom we recently found (long story with a great ending), and her fiancé. While they’re visiting us from another state, we hopped on the highway to take them to meet her paternal grandmother for the first time. We rented a minivan ~ our MacDaddy Family Ride….. quite different from what Husband and I are used to driving… but plenty of room for our new family.
Then it happens: somewhere along the Turnpike, in between singing 80s classics, the kids play-fighting, stories about poop (yes, I’m telling the truth…apparently, you’re never too old to tell poo stories), and crazy other stuff, I look over at my husband who’s been waiting 19 years to have this experience.. and he’s grinning ear-to-ear.
Just then, The Daughter yells, “Are we there yet?” from the backseat.
Husband and I start laughing. Her other half (the other ‘kid,’ though 22) chimes in with the same question.
The Daughter says: “Mom told me to give you guys the full family car ride experience!” With that, she repeats the question with her best whiny voice, “Are ….we…. there… yet?”
Me (a thought in my head and a lump in my throat)…. “No, kiddo, we are just getting started.”
And no one seemed to mind that the DVDs stayed in their boxes. 😉
Don’t you love it when a friend sees a quote or a picture and thinks of you (preferably in a good way!). Recently, my friend and fellow writer, Natine, tagged me in a photo that made me laugh out loud (and nod in agreement). The comments of the others tagged too, were just as funny.
Seems those of us tagged all understand that our tribeis just a little …. hmmmm… shall we say unorthodox….. According to dictionary.com, synonyms for unorthodox include:
Yep! I’d say those are all a good fit at one time or another. 🙂
Different drummer, different music, different, different. But oh-so-special! As fellow bloggers, I suspect you’ll agree….
Who thinks about toenails, and more specifically, toenail polish, postmortem?
Admittedly (0ddly!), I do.
I can see your face, that quizzical look taking over. Let me explain….
About twenty-five years ago, while taking an A & P class in college, I was invited to participate in a visit to the local chiropractic college, where we’d have the opportunity to examine cadavers. First thought: Ugh! Second thought: Fascinating! Count me in.
Entering tentatively, I remember the smells of preservatives (formaldehyde?) filling my nose as draped bodies lay lifeless, an experience that stays sharp in my mind, in my otherwise sketchy memories. It was, at once, fascinating and unnerving.
As we examined the cadavers, I remember noticing small things that stuck with me, one in particular that often tickles my brain when I least expect it: a deceased woman’s feet, with flesh still on parts of her toes, her bubblegum-pink toenail polish peeling and chipping. I remember thinking, “Poor woman. This is how she’ll be remembered…. with peeling polish.”
Yep. That was my takeaway…. the travesty of peeling toenail polish and how it would be with her in eternity… Really, Rob? Sadly, yes. Weird, I know.
But wait. It gets better.
A gazillion times since that visit to the cadaver lab, I’ve looked down at my own peeling toenail polish and thought, “Dear Lord, don’t let today be the day. My nails are a mess! I don’t want to be remembered this way.”
This crazy, recurring thought haunted me recently, as my Cabernet-colored, long-worn polish hung on with defiance – peeling, cracking, chipping, and generally looking hideous. Oh no! What if today is my day?!?
Enter my friend, Natine, who coincidentally was also thinking about her own toenail polish, but (thankfully) in much more positive (and pretty!) way. She, like me, describes herself as ‘not particularly girlie-girl,’ so when pretty toes prevail, it’s something to celebrate! (I didn’t know this about my dear friend, until I read her post,Decorated Digits). Believe me, the absurdity of two intelligent women, both admittedly not girlie-girls by nature, but both worrying about the state of their toenail polish, was not lost on me! Dear Lord, what have we come to??
Then there was this….
For those who’ve read my blog a while, you might remember that I often talk about ‘signs’ and look for them. Be careful what you look for!
Recently, while reading comments on another blog, I stumbled on to Jots from a Small Apt, a blog penned and illustrated with colorful words and images, and guess what I see? You got it: toenails!
Imagine my surprise – serendipity.
It’s the oddities that make us who we are, I suppose.
Let’s make a pact: If we end up beside each other in the morgue, I promise not to look at your toes if you’ll agree to do the same. And if, by chance, my toenail polish is peeling and you do notice, promise you won’t tell. 😉
Speaking of morgues, want an interesting read? Check out Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, a 2003 nonfiction book by Mary Roach. I started reading it when I was still teaching in our local high school… my students were fascinated, to say the least.