While shopping for furniture…
Me: These solid brass doorstops have mice on them!
Captain Thoughtful: Obviously we’re getting them.
Me: And these lamps have giraffes!
Captain Thoughtful: Put them in the cart right now. Right. Now. They’re going home with us.
Me: This crib is only $50.
Captain Thoughtful: $50? Why? Was it made by babies?
Me: I married the right person.
Last Saturday, I found the cure for baby fever.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
The cure for baby fever is going to Ikea on a Saturday. No matter how much you want children when you walk in, you will walk out thanking all of the major deities and many of the minor ones that right at that particular moment, you don’t have children.
I can’t wait to win some major scientific awards for this! Is this a thing they give Nobel Prizes for? Because I may already have my acceptance speech written…
In your face scientific community! That’s what you get for not recognizing the post I wrote about poisonous mutant spiders. Now you all look silly and I look like a genius. Which I am. Because I found a cure for baby fever. At Ikea, which is like the worst place for important scientific thinking ever and yet I still made this discovery. Like a boss. A boss of science.
You’re welcome world.
Sometimes, when I’m talking and a bug flies into my mouth, I like to think that’s God’s way of saying “Hey. Maybe you should shut up.”
I know last week was all Grammy posts, but y’all, the woman just doesn’t stop. She can’t be contained. In one 15 minutes car ride, I got 3 new blogs. This is possibly my favorite because Grammy has some thoughts on North Korea y’all.
Grammy: Well, I’m worried about that little guy.
Me: Can you be any more specific?
Grammy: That little guy in North Korea.
Me: Kim Jong Un?
Grammy: Yeah! That’s the little guy!
Me: I don’t think you need to worry too much about it. I mean, you don’t need to worry the about the things he’s saying, I’m not making a comment on his size. Because Napoleon was like, really small, and he went to WORK in Europe so that proves size doesn’t really play into one’s ability to wage war. But in this case, I don’t think you need to worry too much.
Grammy: I just don’t think he’s ready to make such big decisions.
Me: Oh?
Grammy: Yeah! He’s taking too much into those tiny hands.
Me: Don’t worry Grams, his missiles can’t reach us.
Grammy: But he HATES Austin!
Me: Uhh…..how do you know that?
Grammy: I read it in the paper.
Me: Today’s paper?
Grammy: Yes.
Me: That was a joke about *if* he came to Austin.
Grammy: It wasn’t real? He hasn’t ever been here?
Me: No, it wasn’t real. It was humorous. And no, he hasn’t been here to my knowledge.
Grammy: Well. Now I feel ignorant. But also, I’m a little relieved. That little guy really had me worried for Austin.
The other day I was thinking about names (because I saw that Veronica Mars Kristen Bell had a baby and named it Lincoln, which I love) and how Captain Thoughtful’s Mom’s middle name is Jane. And then I thought about how police and medical examiners call unknown victims Jane Doe, and I bet that it’s really weird when they find out the name of the victim and it really is Jane. And then I thought about how Jane Doe would be a cool roller derby name because it’s like “BOOM I’m an unknown victim you don’t know what I’m capable of!” and then I was like “Wait! Jane Doe-Eyed” because it speaks to being scary and pretty.
And that’s how I came up with my roller derby name.
Just kidding. I would totally want to be called Madame Guillotine because CHOP!
If I could skate, I would be the best roller derby girl ever. Or at least have a plethora of stellar roller derby names to choose from.
I’m still waiting for The Spice Girls to tell me what they want, want they really really want. Because I refuse to believe that ah-zig-ah-zig-ah is all they are really, really really after.
Grammy: Are you and the Captain thinking about having babies?
Me: Yes we are, maybe in the next couple of years.
Grammy: Well, to be honest, I think I rushed your Popsie into having babies.
Me: Oh?
Grammy: I just really wanted them. So, I kind of pushed him.
Me: Pushed him? I’m sure he went willingly.
Grammy: Oh! We knew how to be safe with the….you know…..well…we knew how to be safe.
Me: What do you mean? (Said innocently even though I totally knew what she meant.)
Grammy: You know….safe. Like safe from babies.
Me: Were they attacking you?
Grammy: You know what I mean.
Me: Yes, yes I do.
Grammy: But we really did know about…being safe. We did. We knew ALL about it.
Me: Umm…I believe you.
AND LATER ON……..
Me: What do you think of the name Lulu for a girl? (This question was directed at Captain Thoughtful)
Grammy: Oh! I HATE it!
Captain Thoughtful: Actually, I really like it.
Grammy: (Hits Captain Thoughtful) You bad boy!
Me: Uh, Grams? His opinion counts more than yours in this discussion.
Grammy: But mine does count.
Me: Uhhhh…not as much as Captain Thoughtful’s.
Grammy: But it DOES count.
Me: Let’s play a different game now.
As is well documented in this blog, my Grammy says “tallywhacker” instead of “penis”. It is one of my life’s goals to hear her say “penis”. On our road trip last weekend, I made it very difficult for her to refuse.
Me: Grammy, what do you call a man’s genitalia? And don’t say tallywhacker. What else can you call a man’s genitalia?
Grammy: Well, I better not say or it will get me in trouble.
Me: With who?
Grammy: My conscience.
Me: Seriously, what do you call it?
Grammy: That’s a personal question.
Me: No, it’s not. It’s a medical question. What is the proper term for a man’s genitalia?
Grammy: I’m not going to say what you want me to say.
Me: I will give you $10 if you say “penis”. Seriously, I have it right here, $10. All you have to say is “penis”.
Grammy: Well, we better change the subject before I get talked into saying something I will regret.
Me: I’m never going to give up on this.
Basically, this week is going to be nothing but Grammy posts because we went on a road-trip last weekend and it was like hitting the blogging jackpot.
Grammy: When I was 5 I had my tonsils out but later they grew back.
Me: No. They didn’t.
Grammy: Oh yes they did! Ask my Doctor.
Me: I believe you have tonsils, I just don’t believe they were taken out and grew back. That would have been a medical miracle. Your doctors would have written papers about you. You would be the famous regenerating woman!
Grammy: Well, they did grow back.
Me: If that is true, and I’m not saying it is, then you are way more evolved than the rest of us. You can regenerate! Like a lizard’s tail.
Grammy: All I know is that I had my tonsils removed and now I have them, so they obviously grew back. You can ask Nana.
Me: Grammy, Nana is dead. What am I supposed to do? Get a ouija board and try and contact her?
Grammy: Nana would never talk to you through a ouija board!
Me: I think we’re at an impasse.
Grammy: I also had a floating kidney.
Me: What the what??!
Grammy: A floating kidney.
Me: Where did it float to?
Grammy: Down.
Me: So, you really had a sinking kidney?
Grammy: You don’t believe me!
Me: I believe that you believe you.
Grammy: Wake up your sister! (My sister, an ICU nurse, was sleeping in the backseat)
Me: Sis! Is there such a thing as a floating kidney?
Sister: Ummmmmm, yes, I think so…..
Grammy: Put it in google!
Sister: Ok, just a sec…….yes, there is such a thing.
Me: Grammy thinks she had it.
Sister: No way. Grammy, you didn’t have a floating kidney.
Grammy: YES I DID! I had to wear a corset and everything.
Me: How old are you that they would use a corset to treat a medical condition???
Grammy: They did!
Sister: That’s not how you treat a floating kidney Grammy.
Grammy: Well fine, but I did. I know I did. Y’all don’t believe me but I DID. It got fixed when I had a baby.
Me: I’m just saying, that if this is all true, someone should write a book about you because you’re a wealth of medical miracles.
Grammy: You should! And then give me 10%.
Me: I’ll work on that.
Wouldn’t it be hilarious if when your server at a restaurant was clearing the table of all the plates and silverware, you just grabbed the knife on the table and were like “No. That’s ok. I’ll be keeping this.” ???
Seriously, that *would* be hilarious.
