What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

So… who’s counting? Numbers are over-rated. I have never been very good at them. Listen to how close I came to millions in 1983…

I was working as an apartment manager for a company that most definitely thought they hired the dumbest blonde in town. On the other side of the city, my best friend was Vice-President-ing a large bank. She and her staff knew I never opened my bank statements. They used to joke, “what are you thinking, girl?!!”

One day my telephone rang. Certain it was a potential tenant, I answered, “Welcome home! It’s a beautiful day at ‘Greenbriar’”. The voice on the other side urged me to sit down.

“Debbie, are you sitting in a chair? You are several thousand dollars over-drawn.”

My VP buddy continues talking but I swear, my ears went numb. Somehow I asked how this dreadful mistake occurred.

“Well,,,,,,” she paused presidentially, “Apparently all of your paychecks have bounced… And, I know this sounds crazy, but our bank inadvertently deposited ‘one-million-two-hundred-thirty-thousand-dollars’ into your account which we just caught today.”

As if that million-dollar jackpot couldn’t be beat, my husband spits coffee at his computer screen while reading (my last blog post.) “We’ve been married two and a half decades, Debbie?!!”

(Apparently 18 years is only a decade and a half.)

Like I said, I am not good at numbers which is not to say, I am not counting the next 3 weeks. Our fifteen year old son is camping and Ken and I have never been alone this long. Whatever will we do with an empty nest?

Ken raises his eyebrows with a suggestion. He throws his hands behind his neck, then with the push of just one foot, he slides his roll-y computer chair across the floor to the oven where I am gently placing cookie dough onto parchment paper.

“Our son is out of town for 21 days and I don’t think we have ever been together for that long, Debbie.”

I stick my cookies in the oven… Like I said, I am not good at numbers… But, as I shut my oven door I cannot help but wonder, did I hear my hubby correctly? Did this man whom I’ve been married to for however-many-decades just reveal he has something new in common with me? Because if the answer is yes, then I am running for a candle, and a Barry White CD.

Today’s Life Recipe: How do I love thee? I can’t even count the ways.

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Dear Blog,

I am writing to you today from the top of my pillow case. The gold one with the squishy almost featherless pillow inside. In the event you are unaware, I do my best writing at 3 a.m. Lying on my belly, turning to my hip, some of my greatest inspirations come while my husband is whistling through his nostrils.

I lie beside my zzzzzz’ing hubby writing countless pages without lifting a pen. Yes, if you believe nothing else, believe me when I say this — at 3 in the morning I can record ideas without implements though sometimes I climb out of bed and fire-up a pot of coffee. While the beans are brewing, I nab my laptop. I plug her in just so I can transcribe all of the brilliant inspirations because you never know when they might become part of a New York Times best seller.

As my laptop fires up, she says I’ve got mail, so I pause for a few quick sales which might be worth the detour and I am right. Looky here! A very well written promotional piece about cotton make-up foundation — apparently cotton is much healthier for our faces than mineral essentials, and I will say this for cotton: Granulated white fluff balls make more sense than applying pulverized rock over your cheekbones. Allow me to run to my purse for the credit card. Truly amazing, cotton, hmmph,,, who thinks of these products? I mean, seriously! Don’t you admire inventors? People who can stand in a cotton field and say to the heavens, “if we remove the sharp brown parts, and crystalize the white stuff, we can make millions of dollars.” Genius I tell you, pure genius. 

I am delighted that I climbed out of bed… Now where was I going… What was I writing down? I have been off my gold pillow for 25 minutes now and I have been thinking….. yes…. I was definitely thinking….. I mean, er, uhm, bummer! I can’t remember what I was thinking! The story had something to do with oranges….. squeezed oranges….. Fresh squeezed orange juice!!! Are you kidding me? What is so best-selling about oranges? Nothing even rhymes with the word ‘orange’! To compound my peril, my husband will be joking in a few hours, “Orange you glad you climbed out of bed, Debbie?” 

Nearly 2-1/2 decades of marriage and the guy still hasn’t learned I know what I’m doing even when I don’t. In exactly three days I will reply, yes – look at my new cotton make-up.  

Today’s Life Recipe:  How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then rest afterwards. [Spanish Proverb]

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What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

My husband wanted to drive five hours to San Antonio, to buy a baseball glove so I said, okay, we haven’t done that in forever, I’ll tag along. Then, he tells me we are leaving at 5 a.m.

So I phoned my daughter who lives an hour outside of the Alamo… Hey! Wanna meet me off the highway and go to Barton Springs for the day? Your dad and your brother are buying a baseball glove on the other side of the planet.

Of course, with all of us on the other side of the universe, I wasn’t thinking that I’d be out of town on Thursday - my blogging day. But here I am, texting this post to my pal Bonnie so she can upload it for me, and let everyone know we are having an unexpected blast, but that I have no laptop!

I’m thinking about ya, and I will blog-ya on Monday!

Today’s Life Recipe: An impromptu get-away with the family, is a great catch!

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… My Wedding Ring??

Recently my husband opens the refrigerator, smirking. “Why are your car keys lying inside the refrigerator, on top of the yogurt, Debbie?” An amusing question but not easily answered as he discovered 15 years ago.

The year was 1993. Ken and I had been taking turns feeding our newborn son. Ken was braving the 2 a.m. feeds. My shift was the 6 so I shluffed to Kyle’s crib when suddenly my toes hopped off the ground. Surely what I was seeing lying inside Kyle’s crib couldn’t possibly be a — Flamingo??

I ran back to my bedroom. I nudged Ken.

“Ken!! Guess what I just found inside Kyle’s crib?”

Ken rolled slightly. Evidence the nudges were not enough.

“Ken!!!!!” jab-jab-jab “Wake up!!!!! Guess what I just found inside Kyle’s diaper?!!!!”

Ken sprung like a knee cap being whacked by a rubber mallet. Then, like Superman inflating his chest, he threw his blankets to the floor. Ken quickly grabbed his left hand and I think the tugging made him gasp. He could barely muttle what he dreaded asking.

“My wedding rrrringgg???”

“Nah!!” I laughed so hard, I could barely answer, “Not your — bwah-hah-hah — wedding ring! bwah-hah-hah — I found his left leg!! You diapered our son’s entire left leg — foot and all — inside his diaper!! When I looked inside his crib, all I could see was a right leg sticking out of his Pamper!”

“How did I do — that?”

[Achem…. I guess the same way I stuck the keys inside the fridge only I’m not telling…. Achem….]

Today’s Life Recipe: The greatest mysteries are the discoveries that keep us wondering.

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What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

My beautiful daughter, when she was 22, asked me one simple teensy-weensy question. I wanted to blurt a quick response however, it seemed this question went back to her early grammar school years. Therefore, a few eyebrow scrunches along with a sideways head tilt were necessary before muttling anything from my rolodexing lips which were searching for some sort of intelligent explanation, but the truth is, I didn’t have one. I was obviously parenting on osmosis, the same way my mother did…

Her retro-question:

“Mom? Didn’t anyone ever tell you
that you only get to be in control of
my life while I’m still a bun in the oven?”

My answer:

“See Mom. See Mom run.”

Today’s Life Recipe: You can run and you can hide, but stopping will probably get you further.

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Who needs a Barry White album when you have a hubby walking across the living room, carrying a shovel he hasn’t used since 1973?

Picture this. Ken is parading toward our back door wearing a faded pair of once-upon-a-time (maroon??) shorts. Obviously the man has done it again — gotten dressed without looking at whatever garments he has randomly plucked from his dresser. He has decided that a bright orange bumble bee t-shirt completes the outfit. The vision of my hubby’s fashion sense is so,,, well,,, buzzy, I spin my wedding ring.

Ken struts outside to confront our satellite dish. Sticking up from his back pocket is his infamous blue flashlight. As we have come to know from previous posts, Ken is very proud of this plastic cylinder.

I look through our living room window because I have a feeling Ken is staring at me, and I am right. Mr. Bumble Bee is checking to see if his woman is watching, so I bat my eyelashes which of course sends Mr. Buzz into a shovel hopping tiz. He tries bouncing on it several times but apparently this macho shovel bounce only works in cartoons. Ken moves his action to a flicking of dirt over his right shoulder. After several flicks, he jabs his shovel into the earth much the way Gaston would have done for Sleeping Beauty. He then pulls his mighty flashlight out of his pocket. He fans it to reveal whatever I am supposed to be looking at.

I wave to my husband – or the dirt — or the shovel — it doesn’t matter what I am waving too – I have no idea he is digging a trench for our new cable line – therefore whatever I wave to is not nearly as important as maintaining my ventriloquist lips which are trying not to move while I am asking our window what-in-the-world-my-husband-is-doing—

Thirty minutes later, Ken walks through our front door and leans toward me like the letter “L”. Does he really think I want to kiss his muddy lips? Mr. Bumble Bee drops his voice 28 octaves and that’s it – I pucker up. The guy says, I dug a trench, woman. I didn’t want you to fall in. That’s why I brought my flashlight.

Kiss. Kiss. Who cares whatever the trench is for.

Today’s Life Recipe: Bee-ing irresistible keeps thy marriage from falling into the trenches.

And if you are new to this blog, below are some links to some of my funny favs!

Moonbeams Over Cinnamon

Wave! Datsun Wink!

Memori-ous Days

Thursday Thoughtable

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What was she thinking when she wasn’t thinking?

Okay so what’s a little sunscreen on the cell phone? My reading glasses are inside the house, but I can still text my husband.

“Please stop by Walgreens to see if you can find an inexpensive lounge chair. Wal-Mart is sold-out.”

Naturally without my reading glasses, my text probably looks more like this:  “Pslditng slkdut l  sot tjpseojt  a lthsdlkgjfor lkjsdituingfl aslkjfl.” Even so, catching a few rays can be boring by yourself, so I text my friend Bonnie. “Dlkfuowkn lsdifuo skfjois jdd”

Seconds later, Bonnie texts me back but try as I may, I simply cannot read the teensy letters so I call her instead.

“Hey! I couldn’t read your text because I don’t have my glasses.”

“Oh that’s okay,” Bonnie replies sounding a bit more perplexed than usual. “I didn’t text you. I didn’t even realize you sent me a text. I heard my cell phone go off a few seconds ago, but I can’t find it.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll let you go then. It must have been Ken texting me instead. I’ll talk to you later.”

Later does not come. My cell phone rings too quickly for me to dial the hubs. It is Bonnie laughing hysterically.

“Did you hear what I just said to you?!! Oh my gosh, I cannot even believe I just did that. I was telling you I heard my phone go off, and as we are hanging up, I am literally walking to my sofa, turning cushions over looking for my cell phone, and it’s on my ear!”

My dear friend Bonnie is in dire straights. Naturally I texted Ken right away. Double my lawn chair order! Bonnie needs vitamin D!

Today’s Life Recipe: Taking care of a friend, is a bright spot indeed.

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Courtesy of disney.go.com

This is a test. This is only a test. It is brought to you by the mom-broadcasters association who would like you to know, that in the event of a PMS emergency, we may decide to enter the kitchen as one of Snow White’s Seven Dwarfs.

Today I am Grumpy. My feet will drag, my tone will moan, and my hair will remain sticking up in 20 different directions like a mop left upside down in an empty bucket, and I don’t want anyone to ask, “what happened to you?”

Unfortunately my astute hubby, misses all of these ridiculous ques.

Ken immediately jumps into my scene asking where the muffin cup thing is. So I do what Grumpy would do. I point, over there… But this is not good enough for Mr. Muffin Man. He tells me he is not looking for that particular muffin thing, he wants the other muffin thing. Naturally I, (moi) am the only one in this house who knows anything about muffins, so while I am playing Grumpy this widely known fact will be exaggerated. I slide my yellow chair away from the kitchen counter. I drag my weary tootsies over to the spice shelves where Ken shrieks.

“I did not think to look over there on the spice shelves!!” he is still shrieking…

(Pause for female identification break. Of course the man did not think to look where the muffin cups go… Woah is me,,, woah is me,,, I am Grumpy, true to form. I refuse to smile or step out of character.)

In such private misery, I do not waste time looking over my left shoulder. Therefore, I cannot see Ken moving toward our refrigerator to grab his mighty blue flashlight. The same mighty blue wonder that discovered the mysterious notch in a white plastic pipe beneath our kitchen sink which of course hadn’t changed a bit in 11 years. (You may have read in a previous post how Ken flooded our kitchen floor after spotlighting this notch, then called a plumber to the rescue.) Yes, it is true — Ken’s mighty blue flashlight has performed all sorts of tricks. Apparently, it is about to do so again.

A beam of brightness hovers over my cinnamon — it glides with my fingers like a dancer following his partner across a stage. It shines over the red sugar sprinkles, then spotlights the peppermint extract, and an empty bottle of vanilla flavoring which I just leave there. I have no idea why my husband has decided flashlights are necessary for finding muffin cups or empty extracts, but apparently, his unique production is a comedy because  I am falling off my heels, onto my bum, laughing out loud.

Mr. Blue Flashlight gives me the oddest smirk. He slaps his flashlight onto the counter in a huff. Apparently he is now one of Snow White’s Seven Dwarf’s, too. Angry! Or, Dopey! Honestly, I cannot tell for sure. He roars then he scrunches his eyebrows together.

“What’s so funny, Debbie? You’re acting like Goofy!”

Today’s Life Recipe: Not only are bad moods contagious, they can totally cast you into a different production all together!

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What was he thinking when he wasn’t thinking?

So I ask you - do father’s ever comprehend their little girls turning 24? Today is our daughter’s birthday and I don’t think her father grasps this. Allow me to share a snippet from last year’s b-day.

Ken’s cell phone had already rung twice. I couldn’t wait for him to pick it up. Marissa had just received another call back from Friday Night Lights. She had been appearing on this show as a featured extra.

“Ken! You finally answered! Do you have a second? Marissa received another call back!”

“Wow - that’s cool! Way to go Marissa!”

“Yeah - and get this, you’ll love it, Marissa is going to be featured in a lawn mowing scene!”

“No way! Our daughter who won’t prune a bush is going to be cutting the lawn? That’s hilarious!”

“Well, if you think that’s cool Ken, listen to this. They are shooting the scene in November! It’s going to be freezing outside, and Marissa will be wearing a pair of shorts and a bikini top! Isn’t that hysterical?”

[Silence… ]

“Ken??”

[more silence…]

“Ken??? Are you there????”

Today’s Life Recipe: Clipping those apron strings can feel like a power mower hit ya on a cold winter’s day.

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A few years ago, my son who was probably 11 or 12 at the time, walked into my bedroom and handed me a scrap of paper. He had scribbled two words on this crumply sheet which had probably been white at one time: Live and Love. He said to me, look mom, if you change the “o” to an “i”, the word love becomes live.

“I think about stuff like that all of the time” he tells me. “For instance, if you want to know the secret to a happy life, it’s just one “oh” away. Isn’t that cool? ‘Oh’?”

Uhmmmmm…. Isn’t that cool??? Flick my bottom lip with my thumb, duh yeah, it’s cool!

Fast forward 3 or 4 years, I am driving down the road, thinking about summer break, when I see an empty water bottle lying in the middle of the intersection. Not sure why my first thought is a pink and blue Evian label. Back when Evian first began bottling its mineral rich spring water, I think everyone I knew purchased it. Until of course, word caught on that Evian spelled backwards was ‘naïve’.

The traffic light turned green so I pressed my gas pedal. I proceeded on with more backward word thoughts which flashed me to my son’s scrap of paper.

Live spelled backwards is………. Evil? That’s weird. No, not weird, that’s funny. No, not funny, not funny at all, that’s life,,,,, that’s what happens. I should know first-hand. As a mother who “overcooked her family”, when I was running all over the place doing 20 million things at once, life — especially during summer break, was like a living hell.

I wonder what ‘lived’ spelled backwards says?……… Devil? “Ohhhhh”… wowwwww… now that is extremely bizarre because it brings me right back to Kyle’s secret and perhaps a great idea for a teriffic summer: Know where to set my “eyes”…

Today’s Life Recipe: Children are forward thinkers. [For those beginning their summer vacation, I wish you tons of water balloon fun !!]

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