What was he thinking when he wasn’t thinking!

Is it just me — or, was this my husband’s way of saying he wanted to become a Thursday Thoughtable?

You may recall in my previous post that our family recently sustained a few break throughs… While pacing in his attic, my brother in law’s foot went through their ceiling, then my car door fell off while ordering ice-cream cones. Chocolate dipped. That is why my driver’s window needed to stay rolled down. It was the only way to get in and out of the car.  (Which, by the way it was —– down, completely in the above gushing water sprinkler photo.)

Lucky for my front seat, it had been a very long, hot day. So it was thirsty. Fortunately for me, I was driving Ken’s truck tomorrow. He wanted to take mine “in” (thought maybe the dealership could fix the dangling door better than he had. Hmmm…) So, I was wondering — do you think I should remind my husband that he is the one who told me to leave the window rolled down? That we were switching cars tomorrow?

Raindrops keep falling on my car…..

Today’s Life Recipe: Let the sun shine in. Especially if dad is watering the grass!

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So every Thursday I post my what was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking moments which I seem to have oodles of.

This week, (wink-wink), I didn’t have any. Ohhhhkay, so that’s a teensy exaggeration. The truth is, I thought it might be fun to flip my dish. That’s right — do something wild and crazy, like take the day off. Woah! Go to a water park and slide down tubes that turn directions my body doesn’t move anymore.

That’s when my friend Bonnie said, Hey! Look how adorable Becky-FrumpMama looks in her prize from Southern Gourmet! I think we need to make her our first Golden Apple Thoughtable Award winner, for posting sweet thoughts about winning in her blog.

I loved Bonnie’s idea, because Becky’s post about winning our Write the Fun contest, made my day! Every other week I give away a prize on my show and it’s really cool to hear from winners. So, thank you for being such a FUN blogging buddy! Enjoy your Golden Apple Award!

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“What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?”

Not me. My friend Bonnie. She sent me a twilight email. Relieved. Marshall’s mother called to tell her that it was poison ivy with an allergic reaction. Bonnie can go back to bed now. But not me. I sit here at 2 a.m. wondering whether or not I should plaster the kitchen walls. Googling different textures. I’ve been wanting to change the walls for years. That’s how I found Bonnie’s email.
 
Bonnie’s nephew and her son had taken a nature walk behind their new house. Looking for fossils. They returned after ten minutes, bored. Dinner was served. Bedtime hit. Then at 1 a.m. her son Michael blasted a bunch of “m’s” into her right ear.

“MommmmmmMMMMM — Marshall has bites all over him!”
 
Bites?
 
Yeah!!!! Bug bites!
 
Sure enough, Marshall was covered. His left earlobe was huge. And he had a huge spot in the middle of his forehead, too. Bonnie, being concerned that this could be some rare form of nature walk chicken pox, calls Marshall’s mother who picks him up and takes him to the emergency room.

 
“I was concerned…” Bonnie tells me. “I mean those spots could have been a brand new rare form of something or other. Scientists from all over the world could have shown up in my backyard with those big metal tubes… Quarantining us. There goes our appreciation value. It’s a good thing I was worried.”
 
Yes, it’s a good thing mom’s know how to worry… I mean, how many dads would fathom busting through non-breakable bubble shields installed by the American government? Bonnie could sleep now. She has saved the world. Again.
 
Today’s Life Recipe: Google + three leafs = poison ivy. Moms + worry = blue capes monogrammed with capital “S’s”.

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What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

Me. The woman who asked my husband (fourteen years ago), to bundle our newborn while I packed the diaper bag.
 
Whew! A lot of winters have blustered since then. Each one of them filled with me telling Kyle to put on a coat… zip his sweatshirt. Take off those nylon shorts! It’s 30 degrees outside! I have thrown myself across our threshold, hands folded, begging him not to wear sleeveless shirts during the middle of winter. But it’s no use — the child is weather illiterate.
 
Granted, it is summertime now. I shouldn’t be thinking about wool sweaters. But the way I see it, I have four years left to get it right. Kyle begins high school in August.
 
I am completely unaware during this woah is me, mama-drama-moment, that in two minutes my phone will ring. Ken will call asking me to go into his file cabinet for a folder that he forgot to bring to work. While digging through his gray metal cube, I stumble across a most unexpected jewel. Not the kind you wear around your neck, but one so magnificent, that in that instant I know exactly how it feels to be Indiana Jones…
 
Stuck to a paper clip, underneath the orange folder thingys, is a 4×6 photo of newborn Kyle stuffed into that fluffy blue abominable snowsuit… (Above) If you use a magnifying glass you can see his precious little lips saying, Help! Something ate my arms! 
 
Talk about discovering what I was looking for… now that it is July. 2008.
 
Today’s Life Recipe: Little boys are not born weather illiterate. They are created —— by dads who mean well.

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What were they thinking when they weren’t thinking?

My family. Human squirrels. 
 
Have you ever run to your living room, professing something very important to your family when suddenly they get distracted? By an inside joke that only they know? So you continue on your soap box to whomever seems the least interested in laughing. Then Spongebob Squarepants comes on, and whoosh! There goes that listener, too.
 
Well, last night I was holding two containers of Onion Dip that I found strategically hidden behind the oatmeal in the fridge. I was going to serve this creamy wonder with our sausages. But, fortunately I looked at the expiration date on the botttttommm… (Hello! I am pointing to the bottom of two containers! Somebody look as I point!) I saved our lives. Yes, me! Your mother! These onion dips expired two months ago. Two months ago! You guys need to learn to throw things away, not squish them behind the oatmeal.
 
Of course now I am preaching to the window. To a squirrel running up our oak tree who is probably saying, (Bring it on mama! I’ve stashed acorns for a time such as this.)
 
Today’s Life Recipe: Got Family? Expect a little nuttiness….

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What were we thinking when we weren’t thinking?

Me. My daughter. Us. Together. Apart. Two hard-headed women that sometimes you just want to ERGH at! Such was the case in Monaco. Marissa and I arrived in this country as if we had just pulled up to a small, one-story strip mall. Eager to get out of the car, view a palace, purchase a couple souvenirs, then hop back in and head to Eze Village for lunch. Only this wasn’t going to be how it went down…

Don’t take pictures of that! Or waste video on that either! Marissa was dictating every photo and clip I tried to take. And I tell you this, I was tired of hearing it. My hair was in a pony tail, my jeans were sticking to my thighs — it wasn’t supposed to be sunny and I was hot. So I took another picture and another picture and another one, too… Mommmm! You are impossible! We don’t have many pictures left! Stop wasting our digital camera on buildings!

Buildings? These aren’t buildings! They are ideas! I might want to grow zillions of purples flowers and cascade them down our roof one day.

Mommmm! Marissa snapped the picture then walked ahead of me. Dad is not going to grow flowers off our roof. I said, fine, you go that way. I’ll go this way.

For two hours, the two of us silly nuts walked around a foreign country without cell phones or any way whatsoever to find the other. Finally, I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed. Just like they did thousands of years ago — lead me to my father in a tent across the desert. And wouldn’t you know it? I walked into a store that I did not know had an entrance from the other road. Marissa had entered from that other side.

Oh my gosh! Marissa grabbed her forehead. I cannot believe you are here! I spent two hours looking for you then I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed to God to lead me to you and here we are meeting in the middle. Wow — as old as time, huh?

Meeting in the middle is always a good idea, anywhere — especially when you are lost.

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What was she thinking when she wasn’t  thinking?
Pizza Lady of Rome.

You know how it is… Being 23… traveling with mom… A young adult, but let’s face it, you are still momma’s baby. And momma is still going to ask, “are you sure that’s what you want to order?” 

Poor Marissa… all she wants while in Italy, is to be independent and to order an authentic pepperoni pizza. But nowhere on any menu in Rome has she seen a word that looks even remotely close. Even so, she points to one that she thinks might say pepperoni in Italian.

Pizza Lady nods. Pepperonnnni? 

Yes, round red things, like sausage.

Oh! Sausage!  Pizza lady scribbles but as quick as her pen moves, Marissa yelps. No! Not sausage! Pepperoni!

No! Pepperonnnni! Pizza lady swats an invisible fly then walks off. Ten minutes later Pizza lady returns with (drum roll please…….) Eggplant pizza. Marissa freaks, “are these anchovies?” Our new friend Stephen from Miami switches plates with Marissa but Pizza Lady slams his plate down. No! Pepperonnnni! Apparently while in Rome, you, well….. snap pictures of moments that people back home couldn’t possibly believe unless they saw it for themselves.

Here is another food funny for you from Rome…

Marissa tries ordering again. This time fried mozzarella at a different restaurant. So I ask her – “are you sure that’s what you want?” to which she rolls her eyes, “yes, muther, I am sure… I am adult, you know.” Does Marissa receive fried cheese? Or a happy meal and french fries? (Sometimes it is pure heck showing your muther that you are all grown up!)

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“What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?”

 I’m having such an amazing time in France with my daughter Marissa.

 But, before I left, I had a “What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?” Packing clothes for my trip out of the country was very important, or so I thought.

What sandals will go with this sundress? Is this too dressy? Is this not dressy enough? Wait a minute- do I wear dresses?

And what happens the minute I get to France.  We find out our luggage is lost! Hmmm…… The important things in life……. not my suitcases full of clothes….. But the priceless moments I’m sharing with my daughter Marissa.

Can’t wait to share them with you!

Debbie

What special experience have you shared with your child?

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“What was he thinking when he wasn’t thinking?”

He. Kyle. My son. Fourteen years old. Weeks away from having braces removed. Today he asked if he could drive to Wal-Mart. In the rain. I looked at him like he was nuts.
 
Brrrriiing… Brrrriiing… Brrrriiing… Brrrriiing…
 
If it doesn’t text, take pictures or navigate, my kids won’t answer it.
 
The phone is sitting two inches from Kyle’s elbow. Who called?
 
Huh?
 
The phone. It rang. Who was it?
 
No one.
 
No one?
 
Yeah.
 
Did you answer it?
 
Nuh.
 
Then how do you know it was no one?
 
To prove my point, he checks the caller ID. The only cool feature on this prehistoric land-line-thing. It was grandma he tells me.
 
Grandma? Grandma’s not no one.
 
I know but if she really wants something she usually calls my cell phone so I didn’t answer it.
 
Sometimes — (and this is one of those times), I simply do not know what to say other than the kid has metal in his mouth and it is raining outside.

What funny things have your kids said or done?

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“What were they thinking when they weren’t thinking?” 

They. Those people who didn’t do it. The ones who say it was somebody else. My family.

I tell you this: There is nothing worse than left-over imitation bleu cheese dressing, than left-over imitation bleu cheese dressing in-between your toes.

I was standing at the fridge; beside the opened door and cold glass shelves. Hungry. Minding my own business. Enjoying the quiet of the house. Ken and Kyle were at baseball. Marissa was on her way home. Ahh… What do I want to eat? Nothing on the bottom shelf… nothing on the middle shelf… definitely nothing on the top one either. Well, maybe something on the top one… Left-over take-out from… where? What’s this? I stick my finger onto something brown when, GLOP.

Something cold and thick drops between my toes. Ohhh gross! Why do they do this? Stack left over plastic take-out containers one on top of the other filled with stuff no one is going to eat again. Who did this? Yeah, right. Like anyone is going to fess up. I press the refrigerator shut, but not before leaving the containers without lids still tilting for the next person who opens the door. It is my only revenge.

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