a tornado carried our house off?

Last  Saturday, I woke up to my washer freaking out on me.  I know it was at least on the second spin cycle because I had heard it already but forced myself  to ignore it and went back to sleep.  It was clearly loaded wrong and going off-kilter.  Then my alarm went off and I actually woke my brain up.  I do the laundry, not Goose.  Goose was already awake, as usual.  I rolled across the king size bed and got up grumbling.  About that time Goose came around the corner into the hallway and I said "Who's washing machine is freaking out?"  Our windows had been open all night because it was LOVELY outside.  I got a dirty look, and a "I just finally figured it out!  Guess!"  Not all the way awake, I wasn't in the mood to guess.  I said, "Why do I have to listen to someone else's washer on a SATURDAY MORNING?"

Peace and love, man.

That's really all.  If you try to live this way, the stupid things are just that. Stupid.  If you are negative, get it away from me! I don't want your nega-disease.  Welp...that sounds racist, sorry.  Let me try again...I DON'T WANT YOUR DDD...*snickers* That's a Carlos Mencia song.  Oh well, I'm running with it...I don't want your DDD (Darlene Downer Disease).

*runs away while spraying windex* 

Tiny Human transitions

It's no secret that we are going to the Farmer's Market on the regular, and changing how we eat around this hizzouse.  Clearly, that also changes how I feed the tiny humans because I refuse to buy too many processed/store bought meal products.  I have to get crafty sometimes with them.  They are totally digging all the fresh fruit, fresh produce (and will eat squash if I sneak it in) and most whatever I put in front of them.  I've been sneaky enough to make healthified pizza, homemade "hot pockets" which were a hit, burritos, beef pot pie, "mac and cheese", spaghetti out of my beloved sketti squash, and loaded baked "princess potatoes" (because I had used the purple potatoes and those were regarded for high Peruvian Kings back in the day, so that makes them princesses to get to eat that kind of tater!) to name a few.  I've also been buying Almond  milk for myself on the whim that I choose to drink milk.  They always ask me about it when I pour some out so I thought I would be sneaky, get some Rice milk, and just pour them a small glass and not say anything to see if they noticed.

We have incredibly good luck.

June 1-3, 2012.  I had spent the weekend in St. Louis with Goose camping.  We were not technically camping though, I don't consider spending the day at a campsite and then sleeping in an apartment for the night camping.  However, the airbed happened to fail and we had to sleep on a 3 inch thick who-knows-how-old futon mattress, so it was LIKE camping!  And the city lights presented a moonlit ambiance ... or not.  Saturday night we got back to the apartment incredibly late, okay it was like 130am Sunday morning.  Parked our cars on the street and went to sleep.  In the apartment, not the streets.  We might as well should have.  We spent Sunday having a lovely day in CWE with Dustbuster.  We decided on going out for dinner, the three of us and the doggie.  I figured we would take my car so I could just drop them back off when we were done.  I was distracted with the ShyannBelle trying to avoid peeing when I looked up and saw Goose frantically looking around in circles.  Then I looked over to where he was looking.  The spot he parked the truck.  But...it was empty.

I will tackle you to the ground

There are just some things you will fight anything and everyone for.  I call it being passionate about what you love.  *shifty eyes*  Or crazy.

I was your typical preteen though my parents would maybe beg to differ.  OKAY FINE.  I was a nightmare from the time I was mobile/vocal.  I made them question their sanity and ability to survive another child if it turned out like me.  Eventually they gave up and had two more kids but luckily for the parents they were a bit tamer than me.  To call me over dramatic is an understatement.

One lazy preteen Saturday I was feeling extremely needy for some chocolate.   It was probably that time where a girl craves salty and sweet more often and I was looking for some chocolate to fulfill my needs.  Any chocolate would do.  Usually, I would find my mom and throw myself on the floor and roll around whine until she told me I was weird and send me on a frantic quest in the kitchen.

My mom was in the kitchen this time, and I walked in there prepared to throw myself down right there in the kitchen floor in desperation.  She had just finished cleaning something up and I supersighed to get her to turn around.

*supersigh*
"MOOOOOOOOM, do we have any chocolate?  I NEEEED IT.  I am just going to DIE!"

She turned with a guilty look on her face.  She had just taken a bite.  Of a cookie.  A chocolate chip cookie.  I dropped my jaw right on the floor as she shrugged.  With her mouth full, she said  "I'm sorry!  This is the last one! But you can have a bite of it."

Then it happened.  She held the cookie out, and I was prepared to say NO! ITS NOT THE SAME in a dramatic fashion when a lowly chocolate chip FLEW out of the cookie and in slow mo I watched it fall to the floor.  At the same time I saw it hit the floor, so did my Miniature Sheltie.  We looked at each other, me and the dog, but more me at her.  She started for that chocolate chip and I dove for the ground, grabbed the dog by the neck and put her in a half neslon just at the second her tongue was about to stick out and lap up the chocolate chip.  I screamed "NO! MY CHOCOLATE CHIP!", held the dog down and picked up the chocolate chip.  Though it felt like a 10 minute struggle it was only .002 seconds.

My mom, who was watching of course, nearly dropped her cookie right out of her hand.  Her eyes popped right out of her head and said "BRI! YOU ARE NOT GONNA EAT THAT OFF THE--"

In triumph I stuck that chocolate chip right in my mouth from the floor, and millimeters from the dogs tongue.  I didn't care.  It was a chocolate morsel.  I assume the look of bliss came over my face and it was comical to her.  That or she was wondering what she did wrong in raising me, that I would wrestle a dog to the ground for a teeny tiny chocolate chip.  Or maybe it was the whole scenario that played out in front of her eyes while she was trying to chew her first bite of cookie.  Whatever it was, she doubled over in hysterical laughter and could barely speak the words.

"Good Lord, Bri!" *howling cackles* "I could have given" *snorts and laughs* "You the rest" *chokes on bite and continues to giggle* "of this cookie!"  *hysterical fits of uncontrollable laughter*

"No, I just wanted the chocolate, I am good now."  I said, and walked out of the kitchen leaving my mom to pee her pants in privacy.

You ever try to each a three-year-old a joke?

Because you SHOULD.  Ever try to teach two three-year-olds a joke?  Even.better.  Unless you are the type of person who gets annoyed about repeating yourself over and over for an hour trying to get them to say it right.  You'd think the joke would lose all funniness, but no.  No it does not.  However I am a rare breed and I find things funny decades later no matter how stupid it is.  Like you'd think I wouldn't find it hilarious when Tom Hanks in his ill-fitted tuxedo is at that fancy banquet chewing on a baby corn like it's real corn on the cob.  But I do.  I REALLY do.  

Even funnier is when their parents are sending you texts asking you what in the world their kid is talking about.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY KID?!?"  "Why is my kid talking about marine life while slapping her knees in giggle fits?  I don't get it, lets make it a bug."

Okay, no that wasn't really said.  But what WAS said was "Do you know how long it took me to get that joke?" and of course I laughed all over the floor like that rolling on the floor yahoo emoticon but with less roundness.

Are  you ready?

What do you call a fish with no eyes?
FSHHHH

*rim shot*  Thank you, I am here all week!

*beauty pageant waves*

What's that smell?

Last week I went to tan.  Nothing new or interesting about that.  I walked in, said hi and probably asked for an upgrade on the bed.  As we were discussing my bed arrangements, a feller came skipping down the hall loudly interrupting us.  For future references we will call him spaz attack. 

"Can you do my back?" he said.  I looked around HOPING he wasn't asking me, I don't even know who he is!  He wandered around behind the counter, and obviously couldn't see the sign saying not to, on account of his sunglasses being on INSIDE.  His shirt was missing...I think he lost it in the hallway during his cheer routine.  After he was told to "step back sir" he again asked to be rubbed down.  She said she would after she cleaned my bed.  He decided then he should maybe go pee while he's waiting.  As he cart-wheeled down the hall I looked at workerbee and contemplated making fun of him but wasn't sure if he was a buddy or not.  However, I am fairly sure I made an "is-he-for-real?" face.


My bed got cleaned, and as workerbee came out to tell me, spaz attack came running down the hall, arms flailing, screaming like he was being chased by a drone of hornets.

"EW! OMG THAT BATHROOM IS RANCID IN THERE!"

Workerbee, quick  to reply asked "Did ya poop?" to which spaz attack said "EW! NO I did NOT!"  Thank my lucky stars my bed was ready because I was not sure I could handle any more of this guys crack rush.  As I was walking back, I heard him pleading saying "I just shaved my back, so its okay.  Please?"  *chokes back vomit*