Posts Tagged ‘Humor’
Dadness
Probably out of hearing Dennis and I do it, Chloe has started calling my father-in-law (her grandfather), “Dad”. It’s embarrassing when we go out because he’s 73 and she calls me “momma” and, well, I get the “gold-digger” looks from strangers. Not that what they think matters, unless one of them is a social worker. Still, I’m ok with it for now. How much can a four-year-old understand about family role models when we confuse her with our background conversations?
As long as she doesn’t start calling Dennis “dumb fuck”, mocking her grandfather, I’m not going to correct her yet. 
Cake Wreck
“All the sweet, green icing flowing down…
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don’t think that I can take it
‘Cause it took so long to bake it
And I’ll never have that recipe again
Oh, no! “
So here’s the deal…
Matt and I had a few drinks. Matt and I took some promethazine (his medicine; I’ve taken it before but I ran out) for my back hurting and his kidney pain. I remembered my mother’s birthday cake was cooling on the stove and my step dad had left me specific instructions for the cake: White icing with a dusting of sprinkles plus the candy smiles, flowers and peace signs. Hmm. A dusting of sprinkles? Matt and I iced the cake, tipsy and dizzy. We plopped the candy decorations on it. I closed the lid on the cake pan. Then I seen the jar of sprinkles. “We forgot the sprinkles,” I said. “Open the cake back up,” Matt replied. “Yeah, open the cake back up,” I said. “Can I write COUGAR on it?” he asked. “No COUGARS!” I replied, tearing the plastic dome on the cake pan. “You suck,” Matt replied, and grabbed the jar of sprinkles, and unscrewed the lid. “Gimme the sprinkles,” I said, and reached for them, tossing the plastic dome on the floor, amongst the dog hair. “I’m fuckin’ writin’ COUGAR on that fuckin’ cake no matter what you fuckin’ say!” he replied. I made a dive for the sprinkles. Matt dropped the entire jar on the cake.
We both sat there looking at the mess he’d made.
We were in deep silence.
Just MacArthur Park playing in the back ground.
I sighed. Closed up the cake. “Maybe they won’t notice,” I said. Matt ran and got my camera. He said the cake was Cake Wrecks worthy. I don’t think it’s that bad. Or maybe it is. It looks … terrible. Maybe mom can have a happy birthday next year?
Yes, I tried to even out the sprinkles with a spatula. I failed. Obviously.
See why it’s a bad idea to drink and decorate a cake, kids?!
I’m going to go crash and try to sleep off this dizziness and drunk-y-ness. Maybe my step dad won’t notice the cake when he comes to pick it up tonight…
Oh, and if anyone submits it to Cake Wrecks, give me credit, ok? I won’t be mad as long as I get credit. 
Nuts for Sale
I’m home! It doesn’t hurt when I swallow or talk! I ate solid food! My temperature is normal!
Starting tomorrow, we’re going to deep clean the bed room so I can have a clean place to sleep. I’m still on 775 mg of antibiotics per day, plus liquid pain medication. But the best part is I’m home and I feel better.
Some kids came by selling candy this after noon while I was recuperating from going to the biology lab and checking up on my plants and lab notes that were neglected during the time I was in the hospital. I was sitting in the chair in the living room, and Dennis opened the door. A third grader asked if he wanted to buy a candy bar. Another little kid asked if he wanted to buy one with nuts. Dennis chuckled and said “No,” and started to close the door. I perked up. “Who’s selling nuts door to door?” I asked. “Ok, one,” Dennis said, and bought a candy bar from one of the kids. He was shutting the door when I hear a little kid shout, “HE BOUGHT ONE! GO THERE!” In less than 10 seconds, about 30 kids were surrounding Dennis, trying to sell candy to him. I burst out laughing. It’s good to be home.
Protected: Happy 30th!
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