Cuz I don't do it half-way....
That's why, when just now, when I was making room in the fridge for the mammoth bowl of watermelon I'd just cut, I made a giant mess.
No, it could'nt have been a SMALL pitcher of tea I dropped, nope -- cuz that would be just 2 quarts of tea spilling all over my kitchen floor & making it's way to the brand new flooring in the livingroom (& would be far to easy to clean up)...
Nope, it had to be the big kahuna.
And of course, was it close to being empty?
Heavens no.
Three beach towels & most of it's sopped up.
Showing posts with label only my luck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label only my luck. Show all posts
6.05.2008
11.13.2007
Day in the Life of a Crazed Mother
Remember the fun we had last January, picking out new books with our giftcards?
Well, Gabe's giftcard for books has been burning a hole in my wallet since he got it 2 months ago, also a gift from Nana.
I've been telling myself since then, the next time we're at Gravois Bluffs, we have got to plan a visit at Barnes & Noble to spend Gabe's giftcard.
So, today, we found ourselves across the street at the Little Gym, taking advantage of free bring a friend day (thanks to Alex, we were his guests).
So, we made it a point to head on over & bask in the book goodness.
Along with the fun it is, it is also a challenge to keep track of two very energetic kids, who love books as much as their momma....who see a book at the other end of the large children's area & who waste no time running to that book to see what it holds inside.
B & N also has an adorable children's stage, where the storytime takes place. Flynn had already made plans to read Gabe & I a book from there. And Gabe had big plans to spend the majority of his time at the train table (once again, it doesn't matter that we already have one at home).
To & fro they'd run. Pulling books off the shelves at warp speed. Leaving them wherever, only for me to run behind & try to quickly find where it came from, return it to its spot, & move onto the next castaway.
I may have been sweating at this point.
So, we settle on one or two books, or five. And after diligence & much deliberation, we settle on those few (five) & head to the check out.
Why in the world are there the most delectable and irresistable things at check out lines. Like delicate & very breakable pop up gift card holders. And Godiva chocolates wrapped like royal gifts? Why, oh why?
And why, must you spend five minutes asking me if I'd like to buy a gift for an orphan? And another 10 minutes explaining your reward club? And how if I join today, I'll save an extra $2 (forget the fact that I'd be spending $25 to join the hurting club). Must you continue to push the rewards club while I'm on the other side of the spinning display, removing stationery sets from my son's two year old grip; stationery sets that cost more than my outfit?
And while my credit card lays atop my open wallet, at your register, where you spend vast amounts of time talking about how I'll save 40% off of novels if I join this club... should I share with you that for the last 3.98 years, I've only had time to read an article in a parenting magazine, or a scripture here & there. And then, only if I'm able to lock the bathroom door.
When I finally convinced the employee that even if I had $25 to spare, I wouldn't have another second to spend there at the checkout, less my children knock over the Christmas display.
I give her a coupon, & she unhappily looks at it, tells me it might be too late to use it. I didn't want to tell her that while she was schpealing on & on about the reward's club, she could've been entering the coupon. I think she saw "that look" in my eye & made it work.
Then she gave me my total.
15.83.
I was pleased. Ahh, I thought, that's not much over the $10 gift card.
At that point I slid it across the counter to her.
And she told me,
"Oh dear - that's a gift card for Borders."
Well, Gabe's giftcard for books has been burning a hole in my wallet since he got it 2 months ago, also a gift from Nana.
I've been telling myself since then, the next time we're at Gravois Bluffs, we have got to plan a visit at Barnes & Noble to spend Gabe's giftcard.
So, today, we found ourselves across the street at the Little Gym, taking advantage of free bring a friend day (thanks to Alex, we were his guests).
So, we made it a point to head on over & bask in the book goodness.
Along with the fun it is, it is also a challenge to keep track of two very energetic kids, who love books as much as their momma....who see a book at the other end of the large children's area & who waste no time running to that book to see what it holds inside.
B & N also has an adorable children's stage, where the storytime takes place. Flynn had already made plans to read Gabe & I a book from there. And Gabe had big plans to spend the majority of his time at the train table (once again, it doesn't matter that we already have one at home).
To & fro they'd run. Pulling books off the shelves at warp speed. Leaving them wherever, only for me to run behind & try to quickly find where it came from, return it to its spot, & move onto the next castaway.
I may have been sweating at this point.
So, we settle on one or two books, or five. And after diligence & much deliberation, we settle on those few (five) & head to the check out.
Why in the world are there the most delectable and irresistable things at check out lines. Like delicate & very breakable pop up gift card holders. And Godiva chocolates wrapped like royal gifts? Why, oh why?
And why, must you spend five minutes asking me if I'd like to buy a gift for an orphan? And another 10 minutes explaining your reward club? And how if I join today, I'll save an extra $2 (forget the fact that I'd be spending $25 to join the hurting club). Must you continue to push the rewards club while I'm on the other side of the spinning display, removing stationery sets from my son's two year old grip; stationery sets that cost more than my outfit?
And while my credit card lays atop my open wallet, at your register, where you spend vast amounts of time talking about how I'll save 40% off of novels if I join this club... should I share with you that for the last 3.98 years, I've only had time to read an article in a parenting magazine, or a scripture here & there. And then, only if I'm able to lock the bathroom door.
When I finally convinced the employee that even if I had $25 to spare, I wouldn't have another second to spend there at the checkout, less my children knock over the Christmas display.
I give her a coupon, & she unhappily looks at it, tells me it might be too late to use it. I didn't want to tell her that while she was schpealing on & on about the reward's club, she could've been entering the coupon. I think she saw "that look" in my eye & made it work.
Then she gave me my total.
15.83.
I was pleased. Ahh, I thought, that's not much over the $10 gift card.
At that point I slid it across the counter to her.
And she told me,
"Oh dear - that's a gift card for Borders."
10.18.2007
It Would Only Happen to Me
Saturday evening, we were given tickets to join a bunch of Jeff's friends to watch the US Womens National Soccer Team play Mexico at Edward Jones Dome in St. Louis .
So picture it, over 10,000 loud & rowdy fans.
And who gets chosen for the half time contest.
Yep. Me.
That would've been fine if it had just been, say, a drawing to win a trip for two to Hawaii, or a big screen tv (as Jeff had hoped), or cable or satellite for a year (so we can throw out our rabbit ears antennae).
But it wasn't.
Report to gate 340's entrance to the field, they had said. So I did. Which was 1/2 way across the dome. I had to move fast & since it was half time, and everyone was out to get their nachos & go potty, I had no easy task.
When I finally make it to gate 340, I see the guy in charge, a young probably 20-year old fella wearing a headset. I join the two other contestants... an 8 yr old girl & a 15 yr old girl. Then the guy in charge explains to us that we're going to be going out on the field in front of everyone & kicking the ball, so that it rolls over & stops on one of the three jerseys they'll have laying in a circle.
Now I haven't played soccer in 20 years. And I'd never kicked a soccer ball on field turf.
That's not even the bad part.
Before we go out, he handed us each a shirt. "Put these on now & you can keep them." You think that would make me happy. But I noticed he looked very nervous when he handed me mine, like a panicked sort of look.
I didn't even look at the size, just noticed how hard it was to get my arms into. And I tugged, tugged, tugged to try to get it over my chest. It was so tight it was restricting my breathing, smashing my diaphragm. The shirt had no give, as it was almost completely covered with heat pressed letters, embroidery, the Nike symbol, etc. I stood there, just seconds before walking out on the field in front of 10,000 people, the words from Tommy Boy, 'Fat man in a little shirt', echoed in my head.
"Do you have any other sizes?" I asked the boy in charge.
He looked at me sympathetically & shook his head.
So off we head onto the field.
Had I not been in a shirt that was 2 sizes too small, I would've enjoyed the awesome experience. I quickly saw Jeff across the dome, as close as he could get, cell phone in hand, getting ready to take a picture. My name was up on the jumboTron. I couldn't believe this.
Why in the heck did I decide to do this? I should've just acted like my name wasn't called. Sure I would've had to resisted everyone's urging. But gees, this was so embarassing.
As we walked across the turf, there were actually people cheering. Or maybe they were laughing. I'm not sure.
I talked to the other girls. They were nervous. Both of them had been playing 1/2 their lives. This was nuts, I thought. I not only look like the Michelin tire guy, but I'll be the only one losing this contest.
Well, I wasn't the only one. It was actually pretty tough. None of us were able to get our balls to stop on a jersey.
All of that.
And they didn't give us one anyway.
So picture it, over 10,000 loud & rowdy fans.
And who gets chosen for the half time contest.
Yep. Me.
That would've been fine if it had just been, say, a drawing to win a trip for two to Hawaii, or a big screen tv (as Jeff had hoped), or cable or satellite for a year (so we can throw out our rabbit ears antennae).
But it wasn't.
Report to gate 340's entrance to the field, they had said. So I did. Which was 1/2 way across the dome. I had to move fast & since it was half time, and everyone was out to get their nachos & go potty, I had no easy task.
When I finally make it to gate 340, I see the guy in charge, a young probably 20-year old fella wearing a headset. I join the two other contestants... an 8 yr old girl & a 15 yr old girl. Then the guy in charge explains to us that we're going to be going out on the field in front of everyone & kicking the ball, so that it rolls over & stops on one of the three jerseys they'll have laying in a circle.
Now I haven't played soccer in 20 years. And I'd never kicked a soccer ball on field turf.
That's not even the bad part.
Before we go out, he handed us each a shirt. "Put these on now & you can keep them." You think that would make me happy. But I noticed he looked very nervous when he handed me mine, like a panicked sort of look.
I didn't even look at the size, just noticed how hard it was to get my arms into. And I tugged, tugged, tugged to try to get it over my chest. It was so tight it was restricting my breathing, smashing my diaphragm. The shirt had no give, as it was almost completely covered with heat pressed letters, embroidery, the Nike symbol, etc. I stood there, just seconds before walking out on the field in front of 10,000 people, the words from Tommy Boy, 'Fat man in a little shirt', echoed in my head.
"Do you have any other sizes?" I asked the boy in charge.
He looked at me sympathetically & shook his head.
So off we head onto the field.
Had I not been in a shirt that was 2 sizes too small, I would've enjoyed the awesome experience. I quickly saw Jeff across the dome, as close as he could get, cell phone in hand, getting ready to take a picture. My name was up on the jumboTron. I couldn't believe this.
Why in the heck did I decide to do this? I should've just acted like my name wasn't called. Sure I would've had to resisted everyone's urging. But gees, this was so embarassing.
As we walked across the turf, there were actually people cheering. Or maybe they were laughing. I'm not sure.
I talked to the other girls. They were nervous. Both of them had been playing 1/2 their lives. This was nuts, I thought. I not only look like the Michelin tire guy, but I'll be the only one losing this contest.
Well, I wasn't the only one. It was actually pretty tough. None of us were able to get our balls to stop on a jersey.
All of that.
And they didn't give us one anyway.
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