Tag Archives: hilarious

Goodbye Disney World, Hello Backyard

Dear Mickey:

Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we need to take a break. Sure, I love the way you and your friends with oversized heads eat breakfast with my family and entertain us with your theme parks, but you ask for so much in return.

I pay a near fortune to see you, then you woo my daughter into expensive princess attire and offer pricey oversized turkey legs, costly Pooh shaped popsicles, and expensive embroidered hats with ears… that don’t really translate in the real world. I’m sorry, that sounded like I was blaming you for the economy. I’m sure you and Minnie have a ton of Disney stock options, so I know you’re feelin’ it as well.

According to the latest statistics, me and 1/3 of other American families are cancelling trips this summer and taking a “stay-cation” instead. I know you’re angry. The last time you waved at me and said, “See ya real soon,” you thought it would be sooner. I’m thankful you only have 4 fingers, because I know what you’d be waving at me now.

This summer, like most Americans, I will be visiting (Chez Pa Tio). I will take a portion of the money I’m saving and recreate much of the awe and wonder you provide, without ever leaving town.

I will save $60 on those mandatory Mickey mist sprayers, and have my family stand in the general vicinity of wet neighborhood dogs when they shake. Each night my husband and I will wrap ourselves in twinkle lights, and then we’ll run by the kids really fast and call it Space Mountain. Then we’ll slow down and call it the Light Parade. Who knows, we could wear them to bed and call it Pleasure Island.

I will cook pancakes in your likeness. Then I’ll have my neighbor with an abnormally large head come over and eat them with us. I’m sure my family will be none the wiser, as his head is really big. Have a great summer now, ya hear.

Sincerely,

Jenny from the Blog

This was written for the new site saleHOP.com.  I am now the feature writer for this awesome site.  Wahoo!  Here is a little info on it so you can be one of the first “in the know.”

SaleHOP is an online sale listing service for:
PEOPLE who host garage sales, yard sales, moving sales, estate sales, and more.
SMALL RETAIL STORES who seek a more effective way to attract new shoppers.
LOCAL EVENTS who want a cost effective way to promote their sale online.
BARGAIN HUNTERS looking for ways of saving time and money

They provide bargain hunters with a better way to find items they need at any sale or event occurring in their local area; while providing sellers an affordable and effective way to attract shoppers; in a comprehensive and feature rich website that provides a safe and fun environment.


CHECK THEM OUT

Beware of Grandmas Wielding Reddi-Wip.

This one is tough for me to write. While finding the irony in the situation, the neurotic part of me still gets a pit thinking about it. My children had a sleep over at my Father and Step Mother’s house this weekend. Like any overly anxious mom, I am not capable of total relaxation when they are away because I am unapprised of their minute to minute safety status and whereabouts.

To make matters worse a sleepover at their house is like a carnival. They go from arcades to movies to the beach to the boat to Dunkin’ Donuts often in a 4hr span. Getting in touch with them in near impossible and guessing which activity they are doing, even harder. What if my parents make a bad decision? What if they feed them food that is not cut small enough or let them ride the escalator at the mall alone…in their flip-flops!? What if they don’t account for the beach’s undertow? What if they lose them, step on them, dehydrate them, don’t apply enough sunblock?! These types of things worry me, actually all types of things worry me, down to the pillow placement on their beds and if my son, who sleeps in my antiquated brass bed, will get a limb or worse, his head stuck in the unregulation sized slats.That being said, I had a lovely dinner with my husband and a glass of champagne, or two, or a bottle lessens the concerns. The next day we went to pick up the kids and stayed for a BBQ. It was at said BBQ that the offense occurred. We were having desert, fresh fruit and Redi whip. Like butter, cheese or chocolate, whipped cream makes anything edible. My children, having control of the whipped cream can, joyfully and excessively sprayed it in heaping mounds, masking the fruit below. Squirt, squirt…air.

My step mother grabbed the can walked towards the trash then stopped as if a light bulb went off above her head. “Who wants to suck out the air and talk funny?” she said with the enthusiasm of an eight year old.

“Um the preteens that hang out by the dumpsters in the grocery store parking lots, maybe.”

“Huh?”

“That’s not helium in there, that’s a whippet.”;”>Whippet: Slang term for the inhalant drug “Nitrous Oxide.” Use causes a momentary lightheadedness due to a depletion of oxygen to the brain. In worst cases can lead to brain damage, and SSD (Sudden Sniffing Death). People also risk falling and getting a concussion.

“I’ve never done it, I just remember hearing something about it.”

“I remember hearing something about hypodermic needles on the beach, but I’m not going to play Doctor with them.”

I was trying to play it off, but my heart was pounding. In my minimal experience with whippets, I remember falling on my dorm room bed, giggling and most likely killing enough brain cells to forget the SAT words I had spent the previous year trying so desperately to drill into my head.

I have no idea what that rush would do to a 4 and 7 year old, and THANK G-D no one was finding out! Ahhh, something new to add to the list… fear of grandparents offering my children recreational drugs. A new concern, a fear I would have never imagined and I imagine some far fetched scenarios.

In all seriousness, I will use this as a warning. Take a moment to make sure your parents know that sucking the air out of whipped cream cans, computer dusting cans (Dusting), and air-horns is very dangerous and should never be used as a game. It seems so obvious to us, but intelligent people who were not teenagers beyond the 80’s may have no idea.

New How-to Vlog “How to Sit on a Chair”

New Vlog!  I started doing how to videos for some of the Mommy sites I write for.  Though not totally serious, the concept of explaining even the simplest thing, gave me quite a giggle.  So, I taped this video on “How to sit on a chair.”  In it I explain in layman’s terms the delicate artform that is “sitting on a chair.”  You may want to use a spotter your first couple attempts.  I assure you, with my expert guidance, you will be sitting on chairs in no time!

watch?v=KEIUdYqvqlo

If you know anyone that could use this kind of instruction, please pass the link on -so they can take a load off!: mom demonstrates important skill “how to sit on a chair

Good Luck!

My Dog is a Genius Mastermind

Matermind

This morning I woke up to a gift, the kind of gift that makes pet owners want to just  hug their pets super tight and not let go until they pass out…I mean, gently fall asleep. No, it was not a poop or a pee.There was pee, but that’s like walking out to find my children playing Wii, no big surprise.

No, this was a doozy and what’s worse, I think he planned the whole thing. I was asleep, as I often am on Saturday mornings, while my daughter was watching Strawberry Shortcake. I woke, only to find dark stains, smudges, and ink blots all over my oh so pretty white coverlet, and white sheets. Sheets that are like a gazillion thread count (or whatever they said to make me buy them). Only me and Paris sleep on sheets of such extraordinary comfort.

The dark blotches looked as if my dog had found an indelible marker, packaged some TNT around it, and then plunged down the detonator. There were spots on the sheets where he bit through with such fervor, and the ink was distributed so evenly, it looked like a professional job.Like any good detective, I screamed at the suspect and let him out in the yard, mainly for his own safety.Then I searched for clues.There was no pen, no evidence.I had a new book on the bed and I was certain the black cover was defective and the ink was smearing off, but I rarely rub books so feverishly over my bedding.My dog would also need opposable thumbs for such a task.

Then I found it. On some of the ink splotches, there was a greasy chunky residue.I picked up a chunk and mushed it between my fingers, like a melted crayon.Wait, there’s a splinter of wood in that chunk on the pillow. This is not a crayon.This was my new retro navy blue metallic eyeliner. There was no evidence because the rest of said pencil was Tanner’s breakfast.

Listen, I’m a pretty realistic person who is rarely paranoid, but I am quite sure this was premeditated. This is how I think it went down: I wore the eyeliner yesterday in an 80’s tribute to the late Michael Jackson, an occurrence I was freaking out over. He was the only suspected child molester that I truly enjoyed and forgave, because of his insanely awesome talent. Talent and wealth make up for a lot of misgivings in America, even sharing your bed with Emmanuel Lewis.

Back on track, my dog is vehemently anti anything retro. I have heard him say on more than one occasion, “I don’t want this crappy rubber burger or fake New York Times newspaper. Go get me some Nylabone made from space-age webbed plastic cells, or some Kong industrial NASA rubber, and a chicken pot pie…bitch!” Of course, when a dog calls you “bitch,” it’s a compliment.

His distaste for celebrating decades of yore, and his taste for greasy pencils made from toxins and whale blubber made this a crime worth committing. He must have grabbed his Nylabone, which he routinely shreds, and brought it onto the bed.This allowed me to sleep longer knowing I could pick up the 1000 pieces later. The chewing coaxed me to sleep like a lullaby.

When he was sure I was out, he whined until my daughter followed him to the kitchen. There she found the new eyeliner and decided to play with it, as Tanner knew she would. When she was finished getting ready for Studio 54, she put it on the dining room table. Then Tanner chased Coco, my cat, over to said table. Coco saw the pencil, and started one of those soccer games cats do, and batted it around till she went for the goal. She eyed Tanner with a smirk and whacked it high into the air. He readied himself, did a twisting jump,and gracefully caught the evidence … brought it back to the bed, and started chewing his Nylabone to make sure I would not wake and Ryan would not look away from the television screen.

Then he went to town, with the two of us none the wiser. I have to give him credit. He pulled off a brilliant plan  and ate the evidence to boot. But no crime is “perfect,” and it was his sloppiness that got him in the end. Oh, he will go behind bars. I guarantee his crate awaits.