Summertime is always an interesting time around our house. Someone is always needing or wanting to go to the place that they are not. If they are here they want to go there, but if they are there they need to go yonder. For those of you that do not understand Southern English, yonder means to go somewhere else besides where they live.
There are beaches, and rivers, and pools to swim in. Then there is the movie theatre, the Library, the Museum, the Bowling Alley, the Skating Rink and the Park. Of course, one can not forget that all their friends are also out of school and they want to see these people if at all possible. That is between working jobs, chores, online classes, and sleeping.
Needless to say, there is a lot going on and a day where several people are home during the day all at once is a rare occasion, but we were blessed with one of those afternoons this week.
Before I go into the meat of our story, I should explain a couple of things to you for clarity’s sake. The morning that this rare occasion occurred, I had accompanied Hubby to the medical doctor. After a discussion of the issue, the doctor began to discuss how important it was for Hubby to be performing self-examination for lumps as an early cancer screening. He wanted him to check regularly his neck, underarms, and testicles for any strange changes. He explained that it was as important as it is for a woman to perform a monthly self-breast exam.
So, everyone was home that afternoon, Hubby was busy outside and my Dad was napping. So, the kids pulled out a game that I really enjoy: Scategories. I am not necessarily good at it, but I enjoy it. Now, in case you are not familiar with the game here are the basics. You have a category with a set of 12 clues. There is a die with letters that must be rolled at the start. Once you have the letter. The timer is started and you have until it stops to work on your answers. Say the category is Food, and the letter is C. If the clue reads “something sweet,” your answer could be a cookie. If the clue says “something in a salad,” your answer could be Chard. I think you get the basic idea. You really need unique answers to score points, because if your answers are the same as another’s then neither of you receives points.
So, we are playing along in the category Potpourri. The letter was a T, and the timer started. I am working away, answering as many as I can as fast as I can. “Something that is red”, and I answered that one lickety-split. Then I get to one that says: “something you can’t touch,” I giggled a little more aloud than I had planned and kept on working until the round was over.
So, Elyssa, my middle daughter is reading the clues and asking folks for their answers. On and on we go until we get to:”something you can’t touch.” Finally, it came to my turn to answer,”Mom, something you can’t touch. What did you write down?”
“Testicles,” I said calmly, and the room erupted in gasps. Apparently, Moms are not supposed to use or even know those words. Even after I explained that it was the proper medical term and that I was the one who taught the word to them, there were a few still beside themselves.
Hubby walked through the door just in the nick of time and I said to him, “Sweetheart, will you help me with this for a minute?” He turned and looked at me and I explained my situation in a very mature fashion.
“I don’t know,” he responded instantaneously, “my doctor said for me to touch mine.” We all just roared in laughter. Some laughed with pink faces and covered mouths, but they were tickled none the less. Needless to say, it took me quite a few minutes to gain my composure.
Now there are two morals to my little weird story.
- Be careful who you play Scategories with. They may embarrass you without having a single clue.
- Be sure you are doing self-screenings in the shower at home, and report anything out of the ordinary to your doctor. You could save your own life.
If I have offended you with my words it was not my intention. My actual intention was only to answer the questions of the game. I laughed at the time because I figured no one would duplicate my answer, and I was right!
Have fun and enjoy life! Laugh often and mostly at yourself. That’s some good material there! (At least it is in my case!) Be who you were created to be: you. That wonderful, crazy, sometimes lazy, family-loving, faith-believing you.
For more Family Funnies you should try this story: Chick-fil-a Sauce
I am aware that my family has been called weird. Odd and abnormal have also been included. I am not really sure what that means because we seem pretty normal to me, but then I suppose I have never known any other way.
Money is not flowing freely shall we say, and even if it were I am not sure we would change that much. We save up for things that we want. Pray and work hard for the things we need and the rest we make up as we go along.
Let me explain. Crafting is a huge part of our lives. We make things from stuff that often others might not see a use for. Someone asked me the other day if I wanted people to know that I shopped at thrift stores. I had not even given it a second thought. I do not understand why recycling perfectly good items should be something to be ashamed of.
Now, on the crafting note, my middle daughter, Elyssa, is getting ready to go back to college in the Fall. She is the assistant to the Resident Director and they are making plans for the house. One thing is they are doing is having a Bible study once per week. The number of young ladies divided by two. Anyways, she is preparing for her group of women and wants to make something special for them: Follow the link for directions to Prayer Boxes
Once she decided on what she was making there was a slight problem. No little boxes for the project. She began to ask everyone in the family if they had any Altoids because she wanted the box when they were done. Papa was the last one to ask. It went something like this…
- “Papa, do you have any Altoids?”
- “Any what?”
- “Altoids. You know those little white mints that come in the tins.”
- “No, baby, I may have a cough drop in my room on the dresser.”
- “No, sir, I don’t need a cough drop. Was just wondering if you had those mints because I am trying to find some tins for a project.”
- “Well, I don’t have any, but I will share with you what I have, and I think there are some lemon cough drops.”
- “No thank you, Papa, I am fine.”
Well her search gleaned one tin. That obviously was not enough so next time someone went to the Mart store they picked up her 4 boxes of Altoids. Mind you that is a lot of mints. Now, because we are crazy like I said before, the running joke then became, “Have an Altoid.” Have a headache: Have an Altoid. Feeling sad: Have an Altoid. Hungry and supper is still cooking: Have an Altoid. Just for the record, there is usually a running joke at our house.
Next morning we were running late for an appointment. Everyone that was going was rushing to get ready and Papa was sitting at the table with a bunch of papers in front of him busily studying.
“This train is leaving now.” I said in train conductor style, “All aboard!”
Elyssa was at the end of the dining table where my Dad was and she sat her coffee down. “Man, I don’t even have time to brush my teeth,” she said.
“Well, have an Android,” her Papa replied, “And brush them when you get back.”
Yes, he said Android. Not Altoid, Android. Like a volcano erupting, laughter sprang from all of us. It was so funny. Once I composed myself, I respectfully explained to him his mistake. His face turned red and a big smile came across his face, “I think I just made it into the blog.” Needless to say now when we offer someone a curiously strong mint from a cute little tin we will ask, “Android?” No one may understand it, but I can guarantee it will stay with us forever.
Life is too short not to laugh a bit each day. If you do not find your family funny, maybe you can enjoy hearing about mine. Find something to make you laugh. To lighten your load. The Scriptures say in Proverbs 17:22 AMP, A happy heart is a good medicine and a joyful mind causes healing, but a broken spirit dries up the bones. I do not want to be dried up. I vote for laughter. I vote for smiles. I vote for healing.
Laundry is a constant in our home. Everyone washes, drys, and folds there own. I learned that made my life a bit easier. Besides they are adult like people. They need to learn to handle things for themselves for when they get out of here. And they will!
Because laundry is a dreaded chore for most people, it is also for the young adults here. There is a lot horse trading that goes on just to keep from having to contend with clothes. A night of dishes in place of three loads of laundry. A deal of give me a good hug and I will fold these for you. (That’s another story for another time.)
On this specific day some deal had been struck and older sister was finishing up little brother’s last load of laundry. For the purpose of this story, I should tell you that my son is called Nate. Sister had a basket of jeans, pajama bottoms, and slacks. Don’t ask why they were all together, remember he does his own laundry. Sis smoothed. She folded. She hung, and at long last her chore was done.
Now I should explain that we are true southerners. We do sound a bit like the ladies from the old show, Designing Women. If you have never seen it. Trust me it is a real hoot! Any-who, our southern drawl can sometimes get in the way, even for us. You just sort of get lazy, I guess, and the words come out all funny.
Once the laundry was complete, Sister announced to her brother without taking a single pause,”Nateyourpants.” She was motioning toward the folded stack on the couch. Someone asked her what she said.
She wrinkled her nose in confusion and replied, “Nateyourpants.”
My husband popped in from another room and questioned, “Nature pants?”
“No,” she responded annoyed that he was interrogating her, “I was talking to Nate and said Nateyourpants.”
“That’s what I thought,” he retorted, “Nature pants.”
The confusion on that girl’s face is hard to describe. She was slightly pink from embarrassment, twisting her head to the side in a bit of distress, and biting her lip trying not to cry. “All I said was Nateyourpants,” she said meekly to herself. THEN the light bulb went off in her head and she heard what step-dad was saying. “Oh, My, God that’s so funny!” She screeched. She was gone. Out of it. In her own little world. Rolling in laughter.
No one ever did determine what nature pants were. And yes, there was quite a discussion. Some say it is part of your Birthday Suit. Others thought it might be camouflage. But those people keep camo on the brain. (You know who you are.)
Have you ever read a post that someone put up and wondered what the heck? Have you read more into a text message or email than was there? It is so easy to misunderstand other people. You never know what they have faced before they typed and posted, or even what might be weighs heavy on their mind. It is so important to remember, I am not the only person with feelings. It our technological age, we just may forget the art of true communication. Looking people in the eye and sharing a smile. Talking.
At our house we sit down for supper most nights. It is a no phone zone. No calls, no texts no social media. It is one of the best parts of the day. Don’t be misled, I love technology too, but we must not let it completely take over.
Take today, turn off the cell phone for a few designated minutes and just take time to have a conversation with someone. No hashtags, no pics, or snaps. Just people sharing. It will literally change the way you feel. You can bet your nature pants!
Sometimes buying groceries for a family of seven can be a real challenge. Money is usually tight and I shop the sales and search for the best deals in town. I try all kinds of ways to cut the food bill, especially since the price of consumables has gone up. It is no wonder then that our table regularly has the same types of meat. Chicken, pork, chicken, hamburger, chicken. You get the picture. Like any decent cook, I try and make them in different ways, so that the family will not become bored.
My son was expressing his displeasure with the fact that we were having chicken at dinner the other night. He threw his head back and made a growl-y grown of some sort. Then he began to argue his point that we always eat chicken and that he was so sick of seeing the chicken that he just wanted to vomit. Mind you he said it slightly more descriptively, but I think you get the picture.
Like the concerned, forward-thinking parent that I try to be, I did my best to validate his feelings. I reassured him that he should be thankful to the good Lord that he even had any meat to eat. I further reminded him that there are people who eat just cold beans or worse have no food at all. Yet before I could finish my explanation, his eyes began to roll into the back of his head in general disdain. You know that look that teenagers give you that says that you are out of your mind and that they are the superior being. I hate. No, I despise. No, I have a deep-seated loathing for that look.
“Well, when we get to the supper table,” I announced, through slightly clenched teeth,”If you do not want the chicken, do not eat it.” Besides fewer mouths to feed, fewer dollars have gone, right? I figured it was a win-win.
We sat down at the supper table and once Grace was said over our food, we began to start dishes passing around. The homemade chicken nuggets were the last bowl to arrive at my son’s plate. I reached for the bowl,”Let me take that. You didn’t want chicken.” I said calmly. “Wait! Yes, I do!” He responded quickly, “I didn’t know it was going to be this kind of chicken.”
We all had a good chuckle, to which I declared, “I’m gonna use this on the blog.” He grinned at me and began heartily eating his chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese.
I have to admit that I understand the premise of what my dear son was expressing in his own unique way. Why the same old thing? I feel that regularly about the anxiety that creeps up for no apparent reason. Why is this happening again? Why must I fight another day to keep this situation at bay?
Repetition can get old, but the alternative might not always be a pleasant one. Just like no chicken on my kid’s plate. You might find something missing if you didn’t have your day-to-day routine. I have a great story about Missing Chicken You should check out here: Missing chicken
You are alive! You have gifts and talents that no one else has. God chose you to take care of what he has given you. “Don’t be weary in well-doing.” says 2 Thessalonians 3:13. Keep on going, working as hard as you can. Just like my son will keep consuming yard bird.
Before the magic mirror I stood. Digging secrets out of jars and applying them to the canvas that it my face. Every woman understands, if they wear make-up, the gigantic collection of items you can end up with. Things you use, things you don’t use often, as well as things you plan to use. There are ones that you buy to see how you like them and then there are the ones you did try, but can’t bring yourself to throw out for fear of wasting money.
As I have mentioned before, I am climbing toward the upper numbers of age and now it is not just makeup. Tons of things flood the market all guaranteeing that they are the best at revitalizing my youth. Preventing lines, decreasing redness, improving dark spots, the list goes on and on. But I digress…
Now the mirror tells me that I have done all I can, and I should move on to the next step. Eyeliner. I have used eyeliner for years and I prefer liquid to pencil. I twist open the top and hold it in the proper position as I methodically line it up to my eye. Suddenly with no prior warning there is a searing pain in my right eye. Oh, My dear God, I have just stood right here and stabbed myself in my own eye. The only thing going through my mind as it happened was the line from the movie, A Christmas Story, “You’ll shoot your eye out!”
Of course I dropped the applicator and reached for a tissue. The pain a tad less now that had removed removed the thrust stick. I pulled the tissue down to inspect my injury in the glass. I literally had a black eye. Due to the water now pouring from the injured optic, mixed with the liquid I had added made a masterpiece of a mess.
It took quite a few minutes to clean up that mayhem, and make myself presentable. My eye has continued to remind me that I was nasty to it my tearing over and over. I’m sure that it will be feeling better soon. God created our bodies to do miraculous things.
Moms, I have given you a new reason for the young girls not to start wearing makeup. They could quite possibly be blinded for life. Ha. That’s a laugh. Can’t tell anyone anything when it comes to makeup. Especially, we older girls! We will try anything until be break out, swell up or impale ourselves.
So this is my cautionary tale. My public service announcement. Just because you do something on a regular basis, does not mean you should do it on auto pilot. Just as sure as you are not paying close attention, BAM! You’ll shoot your eye out!
By now you have probably figured out that my family and I are “Eat More Chicken” kind of people. We cook it at home and we eat it when we go out. It is easy to get into a type of routine when it comes to your favorite eating spot. My oldest gets nuggets, her husband a chicken club, my son a wrap, and my middle daughter always orders a regular chicken sandwich plain with Chick-fil-a sauce on the side. These gospel bird creations make everyone happy if only for the few moments they are eating and digesting.
Anyways, the particular day of this conversation we are sitting around the table, chatting and passing out food. My plain sandwich girl takes her sauce as always and prepares to put it under the top bun. It is not a new thing, or an out of the ordinary thing and it usually goes off without a hitch, but…Suddenly I hear a shriek, “Oh, my God, I have Chick-fil-a sauce all over me.”
Now, this is a person who wants nothing but Chick-fil-a sauce. No honey mustard, bar-b-Que, or ranch for her, no sir. She is so sold on this condiment that I am not sure she would even consume her Chick-fil-a sandwich without it. Yet, suddenly, this dressing that is the end all be all of the dressings is the most disgusting thing this young lady has ever seen. She looks at me in desperation, “Mom, what can I do?”
I looked at her and replied,”Take some napkins and wipe it off.”
“Gee thanks, Mom,” she responded.
“You may want to go to the bathroom and clean your shirt and pants with a wet paper towel too.” I finished. That really didn’t help much so, we returned our thoughts to lunch.
After an attempt at cleaning up and ate her sandwich with her second package of sauce. Because you never just bring one to the table and now we know why. Yet where the sauce has graced her tee and shorts, you could still feel the dip. You could tell something has definitely happened. This could not be corrected without washing this set of clothes. This sauce was good for the inside but not so comfortable on the outside.
Occasionally in life, things go along as usual. You might even accuse life of being boring. No excitement. Then your ordinary explodes and leaves you feeling dirty, sticky, out of sorts or to use a very technical term here, yucky. It is at those times that the only thing that can help is to receive a good washing from the Word of God. (Ephesians 5:26)
Some alone time in your quiet place to get things back to where they are supposed to be. None of us are perfect. No matter what some people may try and portray. I am of the opinion that no one can know all the intricacies of the Bible, so we should read and study all the while asking God for guidance. So, Take some time. Clean up. The world is watching and waiting to see how you will react when your sauce explodes.
The above photo does not belong to me and is used only for illustrative purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.
During the middle of a smoldering summer day, I pushed the three and 1/2 wheeled shopping cart to my car. I was under enormous pressure to complete my overreaching to do list that day, and I found myself stressed and overwhelmed. The humidity made my clothes cling to me and the scorching rays of the sun caused my throat to be dry as the desert sand. I fumbled with my key and then opened the trunk to deposit my dozen or so plastic Mart bags. I secured the cart with my left foot by the bottom bar and proceeded to make my transfer. “Last one.” I thought hoping to cheer myself onto completion. I misjudged the height of the trunk side and bumped the plastic bottles on the side of the metal trunk. The bag tore like wrapping paper on Christmas morning, and one by one my two 2-liter sodas bounced on the hot concrete and began to roll across the parking lot. I panic and decide to chase down by purchases that were quickly escaping not even thinking about the fact that I had let go of the shopping cart. Now this Mart that we must shop at because there are no others is built on a slight incline. Just enough to keep any unmanned projectile picking up speed. I captured one of my soda bottles and then became keenly aware that my cart was careening in the direction of several parked cars.
I began to attempt to catch the cart for fear I should be the reason for someone’s insurance claim. It must have been a sight watching a slightly overweight, middle-aged woman with a physical disability in her back, attempting to subdue a runaway shopping cart. The miracle of Miracles, I reached the cart just before it kissed the side of a practically new Sudan. I panted in exhaustion and scanned the parking lot for a cart return. I pushed the buggy to its resting spot mumbling under my breath about how stupid the whole thing was. Then I remembered I had one more soda to find. I use find here because, in hindsight, that was exactly what I had to do. This thing had rolled underneath the cars and appeared to be completely gone. I was about to just give up when I decided to get down on my hands and knees and see if I could spot it. Simple enough. See it. Retrieve it. Go home.
So there I was crouching down, leaning on the sizzling pavement with my bare hands, and the bottom falls out of the sky. It was one of those Florida summer pop-up thundershowers that arrive with practically no warning. I was feeling angry. I was on the verge of tears. Then there it was in my mind’s eye I could see myself: drenched and practically in a fetal position in the middle of a parking lot next to some strangers car. I would have a hard time believing this story if someone I didn’t know were skulking around my car in the rain. Then from way down deep inside, I began to giggle. I knew I looked foolish. I looked crazy running across that parking lot chasing carts and soda bottles. Now I am drenched, makeup is streaking down my face, and my hair is tousled from practically standing on my head. I smiled resigning myself to sacrifice the lost soda.
I stood up and attempted to straighten my clothes as they hugged my torso. I looked upward and allowed the cool rain to wash over me. I walked to the car. I got inside and drove away as if nothing had happened. But I smiled all the way home. It was all so silly. Before the rain, I was so angry, and now I feel almost giddy.
We are all human. We all make mistakes. We all have issues. Next time you are not clear on what is causing a person to behave in an “out of the ordinary” manner just remember, they may have been on their knees caught in the rain.
For another good story click: Smiles
As a mother, I feel that I am qualified to say that life with children is a roller-coaster experience! I came across this story on thoughtfulcatalog.com and thought I would share it. Please note: One word was changed to keep our G-Rating.