November 23, 2011

Secrets To Hosting Thanksgiving Dinner

You might think a girl who was hosting Thanksgiving dinner for eleven in 17 hours with not a pie, casserole, or pan of rolls prepared would be up late getting on that but if that girl is me, well, you'd be dead wrong. My house is a wreck, the laundry is piled up, a quarter of the dishes in the whole kitchen are dirty but I needed a new mix cd so I chose to get on that. And now here I sit blasting my new tunes in my ears and blogging, still not getting anything done. Except for blogging. 

Domesticity is not a great talent of mine but you can bet your candy ass I'll pull tomorrow off brilliantly because what I am good at is performing well under pressure. Also, faking it. 

Truth be told, I'm really not responsible for much tomorrow. My husband is in charge of the turkey - we fry our birds 'round here - so he'll be hiding in the garage with Opa "monitoring" the turkey for roughly four hours... which is odd because it only takes an hour to cook. Wonder what that's all about? *snicker* Kid sister is making the obligatory green bean casserole and mashed potatoes and gravy. I offered to take care of the potatoes but apparently instant mashed potatoes aren't good enough for some people. Snobs! My mom is making something like thirteen pies, a sweet potato casserole, stuffing, and no doubt three different salads. Can we say 'show off', boys and girls?  I'm really not sure the person responsible for the ham has been appointed to his/her duty as of yet but here's hoping it's not me because what I know about baking a ham is a non-measurable amount. 

What I am responsible for is my mom's famous refrigerator potato rolls. Wait, their official name is "my mom's famous refrigerator rolls' so why, pray tell, am I making them? True story - I got our Kitchen Aid mixer out to make the dough earlier this week and I swear on my laptop Asher scolded me saying "Hey! Why you messin' with Daddy's tools?!?!" Clearly I don't do much cooking/baking, little punk ass! 

Okay, back on topic: I also will be whipping up two pumpkin pies, a corn casserole, and a batch of dumplin's. Throughout all of this I will be guided by the infamous mother-in-law recipes. You know, the kind of recipes with instructions such as 'two pinches of ginger', 'a sprinkle of cinnamon', 'a dab of sour scream' pretty much assuring that I will royally fuck something up? Yeah, those. Fun times. 

My Grandma is coming and I told her dinner was at 5pm. If you tell my Grandmother she is eating at 5pm and there is no food ready to eat at 5pm... There better damn well be food ready at 5pm. She may be a sweet old gal who works tirelessly to abolish the death penalty but she's got no problem doling out a good whack with her cane to get shit back on track. 

November 15, 2011

Who Trains Wal-Mart Cashiers?

Dear Idiot Wal-Mart Cashier,

Something to keep in mind if I come through your check out line next time. Cut the small talk, mkay? For real, I won’t be offended if we just complete this process without polite, or in this case – impolite, conversation.

You asked the question, Do you have kids?

And I replied - What tipped you off – the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and Danimals or the fucking preschooler in the cart? Um, yes, yes I do have children.

Then you asked - Are any of them still at home?

And after a moment to see if you were joking - Good God, woman! You mean besides the preschooler that should have tipped you off to the fact that I had children in the first damn place? Yeah, I still have kids at home. How fucking old do you think I am? Are you trying to get jack-slapped? 

Next came this gem from you - Microwave French fries? Don’t you like homemade?

And it was all I could do not to throttle you so I replied - Oh for fuck sake! Did you miss the part where we established that I have kids? Yeah, I do like homemade but the kids prefer quick as opposed to made with love by Mama so them’s the breaks, Little Miss I’m 17 So I Think I Know Everything About Everything But Somehow I Don’t Know I’ve Insulted My Customer 16 Times During This Conversation? 

Seriously, stop talking to me before you really screw up and ask me when I'm due and whether I'm having a boy or a girl. Before you inquire as to when I had my sex change. Before you  r e a l l y  go too far.

The Woman Who Had Every Right To Wring Your Scrawny Neck

November 14, 2011

That's Gross

We have a small Jack Vettriano print in our kitchen. This one, in fact...

My nephew Jayden looked at it this weekend and said Aunt Amanda, is that real?

Me - What? The picture?

Jayden - Yeah. Those people *scrunched up nose* kissing.

Me - Well, it's just a painting.

Jayden - So that's not you and Uncle X?

Me - No, it's not us.

Jayden - Oh good cuz that's really pretty gross.

November 13, 2011

If I Was The Complete Package

Skinny Bitch and I were smack talking the other day about how incredibly unfair it is that some people get to be Trump-style rich, Skinny Bitch skinny, Heidi Klum beautiful, Tina Fey funny and *insert famous genius* smart. We are both of the opinion that it's a total crock of shit for one person to get to be all of those things when most of us are lucky to get a two-fer combo. Upon further consideration I think in my case, God knew better than to bestow too many blessings on me and here's why I feel that way. I can be a little... um, how should I put this... much. I can be a little much. Hell, I bow up and get all cocky after a good run. If I were rich AND beautiful AND skinny AND funny I would be impossible to be around. I would be absolutely, unbearably obnoxious. You wouldn't be able to tell me a damn thing, I would be terrible! I know this with every fiber of my Amanda-ness. Hey, at least I'm honest. And God, if at any point you'd like to throw one or two more of those pesky attributes my way, well, who am I do question You?

November 10, 2011

Phobia Runs In The Family

I think I've written before about my odd phobias. Balloons - the rubber ones - China, Oprah Winfrey, trees growing out of water... There are a few. My mother can't really talk about the vastness of the universe without at some point putting her hands over her ears and humming so as to drown out the taunting from her beloved daughters, Kid Sister and myself. We're truly a blessing in her life, I tell ya. 

Speaking of Kid Sister... she's afraid of escalators and split level homes. I know! It's absurd. You go to a multi-level mall or airport or store and get ready to take the stairs because that brat cannot make herself ride an escalator. We've only just discovered this split-level home phobia. The neighborhood Asher's school is in is full of 1980's split levels like this
And she cannot stand to be near them! Something about half in the ground, half out and creeping her out. It's hysterical! So, being the supportive big sister I am, every time I take Asher to school I snap a picture of one of them and send it to her phone. I truly am a blessing in her life. Hee hee hee.

November 8, 2011

We're Still Alive

Me, the Mr, Skinny Bitch and Skinny Bastard ran the Beer & Bagel 4 Mile Trail Run this past Suday. And survived. Well, it was always expected that the Skinny B's would survive because they're both freak running people but he and I? Not so much. I had run 425 miles this year when I crossed the starting line, him - oh, about 22 miles. The son of a bitch crossed the finish line one second before me. Men suck!

Brag time - this year that course was absolutely designed by terrorists. I know for damn sure it was longer - by at least a 1/2 mile. And the hills - oh my God, what did I ever do to those people? Also, three creek crossings? In November? Nice. Still, I came in twelve minutes faster than last year. So I pretty much kicked it's ass. And today I pretty much can't walk. 

November 4, 2011

Call Me A Mommy Blogger, I Dare You

I hate to write yet another post about the horrors of the drop off/pick up line at school. It just screams 'mommy blog' and you know how I feel about that label. But, fuck it, I'm writing it anyway cuz it's pissin' me off. 

Believe it or not I generally keep pretty calm in that little cul de sac from hell. I do! I've seen other parents do some dumb shit. Daily. But the teachers are probably a new target in this scenario. Look, I imagine line duty isn't a favorite part of a teacher's day. I mean really, six hours locked in a building with 300 elementary school kids? There is not enough medication in this universe, mkay? Then there's the little matter of the fact that teachers are not traffic directors. They clearly have not had so much as a conversation with a traffic director either. They suck at it! So I've made it my mission to explain a couple dos and don'ts of directing traffic in the school drop off/pick up line for those poor teachers. 

Do not wave each hand in a different direction while looking at me wondering why I don't know what you want me to do. I'm assuming by the waving that you want me to move my car but do I follow your left or right hand? I'm not a fucking mind reader!

Do pay attention to your fellow line duty teachers. Read on to understand why.

Do not pull a child in front of my moving vehicle to take him/her to their parent's vehicle in the far lane. I am trying to read your coworker's fucking mind and therefore not watching you try to kill one of your students. And when you do step out in front of me and I slam on my brakes and give you a look that says Teachers are supposed to be smart so why the sam fuck did you just step out in front of me?!?!  don't look around like it's not YOU I'm taking issue with.

Whatever you do, DO NOT wave me forward and simultaneously walk your pansy ass in front of my car because beyond the Teachers are supposed to be smart so why the sam fuck did you just step out in front of me look I might just throw the Jeep in park, roll down my window and scream Really, right now?!?! Ya know, because I've been watching Jersey Shore lately.