It’s Thanksgiving !! The perfect time to give thanks for all those hubbies who stood on the pecan aisle scratching their heads… going, “chopped or whole? chopped or whole?” Pulling out cell phones, calling friends about brown sugar. Light or Dark? Man, light or dark? She didn’t write down which one — she only wrote “brown sugar”.
Yeah, let’s give thanks to our spouses — our children, ourselves, and everyone else, too. Wishing you and yours a feast of hugs, laughs and joy.
Okay, I have been ribbing the guys in my posts lately, so I thought I should pass along accolades to the man in the blue vest at Wal-Mart. After all, he was very sweet, running behind me, “Ma’am! Ma’am! I think you need to check out, first!”
Sure enough, I don’t how I did it — I mean, I have never done it before, but there I went, strolling my butt past the yellow smiley faces, into the parking lot, with a cart full of Swiffers, pork chops, and thumb tacks. Never even realizing that I hadn’t checked out. At least at the cashier stand.
Then again, those things probably happen to everyone, right? Like toilet paper sticking to the bottom of your shoe. Or antennae sticking out the top of your head.
The sun was bright, the air was crisp, and I was posing with a basket of cookies. Ordinarily I do not enjoy having my picture taken. But hand me some cookies, and I’m all in.
My photog Anna says, turn your shoulder, Debbie. Not this way, that way. Can you tilt the cookies? Yeah, like that but don’t drop them in the bushes. Okay, tilt your head then lift your chin. Act natural. That’s great. I can see your antennae. Snap! Snap![My antennae? She must be joking. I only use them on my children.]
Tilt a little bit more, Debbie — that’s better. Yeah, I can see your antennae much better now. Snap! Snap!
[You’re funny, Anna. I don’t really have antennae. That’s just something I tell my kids.]
Okay Debbie, whatever you say. I think we’re good now. Let’s go upload these shots and see what we’ve got.
Today’s Life Recipe: In all things give thanks. After seeing those “antennae” sticking up in that photo, I am very, very thankful that I never told my kids I had “eyes in the back of my head”.
Check out this delicious Thanksgiving recipe for Rosemary Gravy.
What were we thinking when we weren’t thinking?
It was going to be one of those strange turn of events. An all-out food fight. But no one saw it coming.
It began slowly, with a simple goal. All I wanted to do was carry my dinner plate to the den (yes, the den), and watch Fox News. But noooooo…. the guys grabbed the remote control in hot pursuit of yet another repeat of National Treasure. The two of them are sitting there reciting lines, racing to see who can beat Ben Gates.
I’m like, you guys are so weird! I’m out of here. This is the 50th time you’ve watched Ben Gates find the fake Declaration of Independence, aren’t you bored? They look at me like I’ve lost my mind. It’s Nicolas Cage, woman!
So I get up — me and my plate, and what do they do? They corner me with a most hilarious attempt at an Indiana Jones routine. I am left no alternative but to break into a flimsy interpretation of Laura Petrie. I shake my booty and I say, beat this, Rob!
That’s when Ken waves his arm like an Olympic judge, wait! Wait! You don’t have your peddle pushers, you’re disqualified!
No, honey, but I do have a plate of peas. And I might add that you look quite funny wearing them.
Bread, potatoes, napkins, and Oreos sail. Us dorks are engaged in a major food fight and it is laugh out loud fun.
Today’s Life Recipe: Eating dinner in front of the TV can be good family interaction. (But don’t tell my mother — she’d have a fit if she knew I was playing with my food!)
Uhm, honey?? I think I bought the wrong hair color by accident…
Ken runs to the bathroom, where I am facing the mirror wishing it was Halloween. He spins quickly to his backside. A sloppy attempt to hide his famous snicker chuckle shuffle.
What do you think, hun?? Is my hair too dark?? I wonder if it will look lighter in sunlight. Do you think it will look better in the sunlight?
Ken tries to be serious, he tries not to let me know that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. His cheeks pucker like balloons inflating themselves. Bwah-hah-hah! Bwah-hah-hah! “What I want to know, Debbie…..” Bwah-hah-hah! “is how…..” Bwah-hah-hah! “you didn’t see the black shoe polish on top of your head!!”
[No reply.]
[NEXT DAY]
“Hello, yes, this is Debbie Davis. I accidentally dyed my hair jet black, like the Adams Family, and I was wondering if I could come in today for an appointment to have it fixed.”
“Yes, we can see you at 4:00. In the meantime, spend the entire day wearing a Prell shampoo cap.”
[PHONE CALL TO KEN]
“Okay, I scheduled an appointment to have my hair corrected. But my hairdresser wants me to wear a shampoo cap all day long.”
“A shampoo cap? You mean like white lather?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think my dumb sense of humor is going to allow it. I mean, it’s funny enough looking like Morticia Adams much less sticking a Dairy Queen swirl on top.”
“Well baby,,,,,,, hey, hey,,,,,,,,, (macho Zoro tone inflected), if you are going to put on the whip-cream,,,,,,, hey, hey,,,,,,,, I’ll be right home… (macho Zoro tone amplified)…….”
[Hey? Hey? HUH… !!! Is he kidding??? Why are men so weird? They don’t care if you look like a cartoon, and I don’t think they have a decent sense of smell either. No concept of morning breath. I seriously wish I was the true-blue Moritica Adams right now — just so that I could snap my fingers and get Gomez to challenge Ken to a duo, or concoct a potion that would sail my Mr. Laughs-At-My-Hair to the moon. Or Mars. What do you think? Would Mars be better?]
Today’s Life Recipe: A sense of humor is better than a cherry on top.
What was he thinking when he wasn’t thinking?
Ken. My husband. The guy on his knees inside our bedroom closet. He is looking for an 8 mm video tape that he swears he put into a shoebox a million years ago.
“I remember it being there too, Ken. Didn’t we watch it last Christmas?”
“Yeah, we did. That’s why I know it has to be in here.”
“Do you want me to help you?”
(Achem — ladies, here comes the standard reply…) “No, I’ve already looked through it, and it’s not here. So I’m going to open another cabinet and if it’s not there, then I’ll go to the attic and dig through all the boxes up there. If it’s not in any of those, then I don’t know what happened to it.” (Major gasp as if me or the kids have buried it in the backyard.)
“Uhhhhmmm, are you sure you don’t want me to help you look inside the shoebox, first? I bet it’s in there, hun.”
“Well, I guess you can look through it if you want to, but it isn’t there. I’m already looking through the cabinet.”
“Is it in the cabinet?”
“Nope. I’m headed to the attic.”
(The last time a male in our family toured the attic, his leg dropped through the ceiling. Therefore, I have no alternative — I zoom to the closet.) I grab the shoebox. “Let me look. I mean, you’re probably right, (achem - handsome man), it’s probably not in here… (achem - you big stud you)… but, just in case, (ahcem, you intelligent wise one)… let me take a quick look. Ahh, yes, here it is. The empty acrylic case. I bet this unlabeled tape without a case, might be the tape you are looking for.”
“Huhmmm… You may be right. Well how about that.”
Yes!! How about that. Isn’t it cool how we women never cease to amaze our men?
Today’s Life Recipe: Open attic, insert foot. Open shoebox, wink and smile.
Last month, our family was sitting around a small bonfire, and my son gets out of his chair, pretending he is “dishing”. (That’s what he and my husband nicknamed me after my food show started airing, “Hey, Dishing!” — I am no longer mom or Debbie…)
So Kyle says, “Hi! Welcome to the show. I’m Dishing. Today we have a delicious surprise for you in honor of the time I was sitting outside with my kids and I tripped. As you know, I am clumsy, anyway, I burnt my butt and it left a whole in my jeans so that’s why today we are making Rump Roast!”
Everyone busts into laughter. Even me. Now it’s Ken’s turn.
He stands in front of the bonfire. “Hi! Welcome to the show. I’m Dishing. Anyone out there have problems with wasting food? Well I surely do. That’s why I called my local zoo. I had heard a zebra passed away and I thought to myself, why waste zoo animals? So today we are making smoked Zebra Chops.”
Ooooooh !!!! Gross !!!! Marissa stands up. “That was sick, dad. Okay, it’s my turn. Hi. Welcome to the show. I’m Dishing. And today we are making moisturizer. Why? Because I promised my daughter 2 years ago that I would buy her some, and I haven’t done it yet.”
Huh? I did?
Yes. You promised me you would buy me anti-wrinkle cream.
But Marissa, you are only 23!
I know. But I want a really big collection of wrinkle creams. Just like you! (High-fives come flying toward Marissa from the cheering crowd.)
That’s it! It’s my turn. “Hi! Welcome to the show. I’m Debbie Davis. And, yes, I overcooked my family. Now, (achem), you know why!”
Today’s Life Recipe: Taste the fun!
While you are here check out the Dishing with Debbie Bloopers and Out-takes!
What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?
Beeeng! Beeeeng! Beeeeeng!!!
“The gate is ajar! The gate is ajar!”
“Doesn’t matter, mom, just keep driving. Nothing is going to fly out. Eric’s dad is picking me up in two minutes, and I still have to find my sliding pants.”
I won’t say it outloud, but I surely will think it. This hurry up and go faster energy — driving with the back gate ajar while groceries flop everywhere, is how life used to feel. And I don’t like it — no wonder it made my daughter nuts.
Did I really used to sound like my son sounds, now? “Hurry up kids! Get in the car. Don’t worry about it, just throw it in, and buckle up. No we can’t do a drive thru! We’ve got to get there in two minutes!”
Where ——— is there? That’s the Neil Diamond question of the hour. (Anyone remember his song, “I am I said — to no one there?”)
“Just pull in front of the house, mom. Hurry up! You go to the laundry room while I look in my room……”
Before I reach the den, a blood curdling scream spirals up the hallway The kind of yell that tells a parent there is a big ugly spider in the middle of their child’s floor. I run to his room with a wad of paper towels.
“Get the cooler, mom! The red one by the freezer. Put ice in it. Then some water. I need you to hurry. Find a rag. Something I can throw over my neck. You’ve got one minute.”
Deeeeng! Donnnng!
“They’re here! They’re here! I love you. I’ve gotta go. See you later.” He winks, he hugs, he waves good bye.
I plotz into my chair by the window. I am totally winded. Then, I catch my breath. I grab my laptop. I am sooooooo telling my blog buddies about this one… just in case somebody out there, still has a chance not to teach this silly treadmill game to their kids. Whew! I am telling you, when it comes back around, it is not fun anymore!
Today’s Life Recipe: Beeeng! Beeeng! Beeeng!
“Hurry Kids! Assume the Position! Mom has lost her make-up brush and all hell is about to break loose. Hurry! Take cover! Do not speak….. Do not say one word…..”
Recently I was asked by the authors of a wonderful book called, Survive or Thrive? to share on their podcast, how I nearly lost my (then) 19-year old daughter. They had heard how our family was frequently accused of “having too much fun together to be related.” They asked me to discuss how that transformation occurred.
I am attaching a link to that interview, How I Overcooked My Family, because what I know for sure, is that one day my daughter and I were “best buds” and the next day, (accumulative years later), she and I couldn’t be in the same room together without arguing. Everyone told me this dynamic was normal especially since “she and I were too much alike”.
Oh how I wish I had known how to climb trees back then. I would have sat on a totally high branch, and looked below me at how those words sounded from a higher perspective. T O O - M U C H - A L I K E . Poor Debbie and her daughter — too much in common !!
It is amusing — the things we can’t see when they are staring us in the face. Like the time I ran around a flea market looking for my lost sunglasses. Ray Bans. Dark brown with amber lenses. I must have dashed into seven different booths before some guy selling fake authentic tapestry rugs shyly pointed to my nose. “Pardon me ma”am, but aren’t those the glasses you describe, on your face?”
Yes! I was wearing them. Seems those shades were just a fingertip away — just like me and my daughter’s “best bud” days — lost but not. All I had to do, was know where to seek!
Today’s Life Recipe: Sometimes a myth is just a myth. That’s why the truth is so delicious.
