No More Potty Breaks
As every parent knows, you really can’t leave your little ones alone for more than a minute. I made the unfortunate mistake of emptying my bladder this morning, thus leaving my children alone for that one, crucial minute. In that time, my son had become parched, wandered into the kids’ bathroom, found a plastic tea cup that we use as a bathtub toy, dipped it into the toilet and took a nice big swig.
Tess burst into my bathroom and yelled, “Jack’s drinking from the toilet, just like a dog!” and ran out. So, with my pants almost up to my waist, belt jingling, I rushed to the bathroom just as Jack was going back for seconds. I screamed “NO!” which scared him into dropping the cup and he screamed back at me “NO!” Let me tell you, there is not enough toothpaste in the world to make a mom feel better about her child not having toilet germs in her toddler’s mouth. I still gag a little bit when I think about it. I think he’s okay, but I’ll be brushing his teeth for the 46th time when he wakes up from his nap.
Seriously, I was gone for less than a minute.
This is a good lumberjack (and he's okay)!
Lower My . . . what the. . . ?
Have you seen the pop-up ads for lower my bills dot com (I’m not giving them free click-throughs)? The bold headline screams to you that “Refi rates are at the lowest they’ve ever been!” or something exciting like that. But have you noticed the pictures they use? One looks like a lumberjack rapist and the other is an old man who looks like he’s trying to figure out who the hell that person is that’s standing in front of him and why they’re trying to steal his soul with that magic light box.
I know that advertisements aren’t cheap, but really, there are a lot of sites out there that offer stock photography that wasn’t taken in a prison or by someone who likes to sneak up on dementia patients in a nursing home. Am I, your audience, supposed to relate to these people? Because all I’m wondering is if either of these people even lives in a house. I’m guessing Lumberjack is serving 5-10 in Chino and I think it’s safe to say the old man doesn’t even know what town he’s in. (I am not making fun of the elderly, I’m making fun of the picture, so back off.) It doesn’t create enough curiosity for me to click on your ad. It makes me feel sad and dirty.
Let’s spend the extra $8 and buy a picture that has someone who looks like they haven’t committed a felony recently and make sure they’re under the age of say, 90.
I know everyone uses this picture. I'm okay with that.
Dedicated to the Whore Who Stole My Shoes
My husband ordered something from zappos.com and it was delivered to our old address (we haven’t lived there in over a year). So, I thought I would zip on over there to see if I could get it from the “new” owners. It was almost 10 o’clock in the morning, so I assumed if anyone was home, they would be up, right? I mean, I’m up, so you should be too.
I parked the car and ran up to the door – I saw the flower pots I left were still there and that they really needed to trim the bushes under the window, but whatever. I rang the doorbell. I heard a dog bark. I heard someone whisper-yell “shut up!” I looked through the window next to the door – I saw a woman poke her head around the corner of the staircase. I rang the bell again. I thought, I know you’re there – I used to do that same move, lady.
She finally threw the door open and in a very unfriendly tone said, “Yeah?” I replied, “Hi there, sorry to bother you, but did you get a package delivered here yesterday by chance?” I gave her my nicest fake smile. “Uh, yeah, my husband gave it to the neighbor.” I said, “He. . . gave it to a neighbor? Do you know which one?” “NO!” and she slammed the door in my face.
Can you guess what I thought at that moment? I bet you can. You would have thought it too.
Who slams a door in the face of someone who is inquiring about a package that they’re missing? I mean, I know 10 a.m. is early and all, but you could have just NOT gotten out of bed and waited until you heard me drive away if you didn’t want to deal with the whole ‘open the door and use my words’ thing. It’s obviously mine – it’s not a new scam – there’s no gang of ordinary looking women wandering around neighborhoods ringing doorbells and asking if a package was delivered to you by mistake. And really, you don’t know who your husband gave it to? When he said, “Hey we got this package and it doesn’t have our names on it” did he put a blindfold on you and spin you around so you wouldn’t see which neighbor he was giving it to? Weren’t you curious as to whom he gave it to you and why?
And who gives a package obviously sent to your house in error to their neighbor? “Hey, Phil. Say, I got this package addressed to somebody else, do you want it or anything? I thought it would be easier to wait until you got home, walk all the way over here – of course I didn’t tell the wife where I was going – and ask you if you wanted a package that isn’t mine. I don’t have enough time to call the toll-free number right here on the address label.”
Isn’t tampering with mail a federal offense? Can I have them arrested?
By the way, zappos resent the package – overnight, actually – at no charge. It was a new pair of Converse sneakers my husband bought for me. Awww. . . had I known that before I went to the old place, I would have made sure I had it in my possession before I left.
Now I don’t feel so bad about all the crap we shoved under the back deck before we moved.
. . . that children are brand new to this place. Everything they see or hear is a revelation to them, something to get excited or scared about with surprising enthusiasm.
