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!)

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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.

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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.

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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! 

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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!

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“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.

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What was she thinking when she wasn’t thinking?

Bonnie — she’s known me for years. Therefore, she should have known that I needed at least one more consonant.

We had been sending emails back and forth when suddenly the sentences shrunk to four words. I had no idea what my dear friend was talking about anymore. So I sent Bonnie a, “What?” To which she replied, “Huh?”

How would women have handled this blonde moment in the olden days? Politely texted, “I am sorry dear, but I must have lost my train of thought while Final-Netting my hair, and sliding into my pointy heels. This chiffon apron! My mother-in-law, the dear woman, embroidered it for me. But I must confess it is so tight around my waist, that it cuts the oxygen off to my brain. Then again, it might not be the apron, it could be these clip-on earrings. Laughter out loud. Laughter out loud. Well, well, I must get-a-move-on… starch my sons striped shirts before supper is served. Did I tell you that I burnt my foot while shutting the oven door this morning? I was rolling my hair with my right hand, while wrapping my husband’s egg salad sandwich in waxed paper with my left. I kicked the oven door shut with my toes. Laughter out loud. Laughter out loud. That’s why we should always wear heels in the kitchen. I shall talk to you later, dear. After I wash the dishes by hand. Lemon Joy. It really does show your reflection in your dinner plates. Did I tell you that I can go 4 weeks without washing my hair? You must try Final Net. I swear — it is the ultimate glue that holds us mothers together.

Today’s Life Recipe: Laughter out loud. Laughter out loud!!

Need a nostalgic recipe for the holidays? Click here to check out Grandma’s Retro Recipes!

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I did it — that thing I rarely do. I hummed the theme to Chariotts of Fire… Da-duuh-daaa-duuh-daaaaaaa-duuuuuuh… Surely Olympic training was why Ken was wearing green satiny basketball shorts from 1989, accessorized with the quickest old t-shirt he could grab.

“Mom! Stop looking at dad. I need to ask you something. Where did you put the lighter? Dad wants me to light the grill.”

I didn’t use the lighter, son, your father had it last.

“He did?”

Yes, the guy wearing those green, uhm, well never mind. Where did you get those red shiny…..? Weren’t those part of your Halloween costume from 6th grade?

“Never mind about my shorts, mom, I need to find a lighter.”

“I have an idea, son!” Father Green shorts stops doing sit-ups or whatever those body bending things were. He busts into the kitchen with a plan. He rolls a wad of white paper napkins into a cylinder. He presses one tip of the cylinder onto the glass top stove. A bright red circle glows before our faces. “I am going to light this torch with this red circle son, and as soon as it starts to burn — and believe me, it is going to burn any second… yeah, any second… just wait… it is going to catch on fire… and when it does, I am going to hand it to you, then you run through the house with it as fast as you can. Open the backdoor, go outside, and throw it onto the charcoal…”

By now of course, I am grabbing my ribs, wishing I was wearing shiny shorts, too so that I could think of such heroics.

Lucky for me, I almost get an opportunity. The torch turns to ash only inches before it reaches the grill. The men scratch their chins. They announce “Plan-B”. Kyle rolls one torch, gets into position by the backdoor. Ken rolls another one, smooshes it onto the red circle. It flames! He runs! He lights Kyle’s! And yes! The Davis family is eating grilled steaks in 30 minutes!

Today’s Life Recipe: Food Never Tasted This Much Fun! Da-Duh!

Connie from Connie’s Turing 50 Blog gave me the BFF Gold Card!  Thank you Connie, I’m so blessed to have such great blogging buddies.

I’m passing on this BFF Gold Card to a few of my many blogging buddies!

1. Julie from Blessed with Five

2. Courtney from Quiet Chaos

3. Bad Momma from Bad Momma Blog

4. Kristen from Mighty Morphin Mama

5. Anna from My Sweetest Dream

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What was I thinking when I wasn’t thinking?

Me, the lady who can’t find her cell phone…

It will be one week. One week? Did my husband say one year? An eternity before I would receive my new cell phone?

Stomp! Stomp! Helllllooooo??!!

Try calling it again. Did you dial it again? Seriously, sometimes if you keep dialing your number, someone will answer.

One time I washed my cell phone. Once I left mine on top of a cereal box at Sam’s Club.

Cell phones? Did someone lose a cell phone? No, but someone stole Debbie’s! Stole it? Are you sure? Did you catch the guy? I had one stolen once. At least I don’t take pictures with my phone. That’s the worst.

Pictures??!! Oh my goodness! (Add a little drama, throw my hand over my forehead.)”All” of my pictures are gone.

Text whoever stole it. Offer them a $50 reward to bring back the sim card. Seriously. That might work. Try it.

This is nuts. I appreciate everyone standing in the alley with me. But, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. Actually, I’m not having any conversation. Oh, that’s pretty funny. Not having a conversation. I wish I could text that to Bonnie. Ohhhh man… All of my saved text messages are gone, too. From the kids and Ken… Can you bring home toilet paper? Get barbecue sauce. DON’T GET OUT OF THE CAR WHEN YOU PICK ME UP AT THE VB GAME… Hmmmm…

Where are you going, Debbie? For a ride? Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. With the windows open, and a breeze in my hair. I’m free for a week! Thank you for talking me through this guys.

Today’s Life Recipe: Going back to a time without cell phones can almost make you want big 80’s hair again.

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Red Hearts…

I was sitting in a black padded chair getting my hair highlighted when the stylist looked me in the mirror announcing that “everyone” talks about my marriage. Surprised, I handed her a foil square. “They do?” She said yes, you are lucky.

Lucky? I guess you could call me lucky.  After all, I get to fill out my own anniversary cards. It’s true. My husband buys them, then forgets them in the sack, so I write all sorts of glowing sentiments to myself. My husband also does a mighty fine leprechaun. Check out this video of him opening birthday presents. What do you think? Is it the sunglasses? Or are men really from Mars? Any other hubs out there singing cereal songs?

 

 Magically Delicious: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Today’s Life Recipe: Marriage. It is magically delicious.

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