Thursday, November 5, 2009

Funny Money


Dylan Alice and I are sitting in Pizzeria Uno’s today. Dylan has a half day and we are all going out to a special make your own pizza lunch to celebrate his excellent spelling test. Out of the blue Dylan turns to me and says. “Momma I have an idea. Can I use our printer?”
“Sure honey.” He smiles widely and claps his hands.

“I can print as many pages as I want? Cool! All I need is some scissors and one dollar bill. Can the printer print on both sides?”

“No just one.”

“Okay, then I’ll need some tape. I’m gonna be rich!”

“You’re big idea is to make your own money?” I ask without laughing.

“Yes! I can’t believe that no one has ever thought of this. It will be so easy! I can print like a hundred dollars!” He says and cackles.

“Um, sweety. Lots of guys have thought of it before. Making your own money is called counterfeiting and it is illegal, that’s why they are all in jail now.” His smile fades and he crosses his arms.

“I knew it was too good to be true. I’ll have to figure out a new way to be rich.”

If my son ever used his creative mind for good, he could seriously change the world. I am so crazy about that little nut.

I want that


Ah ‘tis the season to be greedy Fah-la la la la –la-la-la-la. The Halloween candy is not even half eaten and we are being bombarded with Christmas. Actually in the store I am sad to report that they were setting up the Christmas displays Halloween night. But no one is more serious about beating us over the head with Christmas more than the darn TV toy commercials. This time of year the kid’s cartoons are simply speed bumps on a highway of speeding commercials. My daughter now watches TV with a pad of paper and a Sharpie compiling and endless list of essential gifts.


Okay so she can’t write. But she does yell out, “Momma, I want that.” Every time that there is a toy commercial on. Any toy, baby dolls, race cars, video games, motor bikes, laptops, ipods, dog food, whatever the TV is trying to sell her she is buying it. Rather she is demanding that I buy it. I understand that she doesn’t even know what half of these toys even are. But since her favorite cartoon station has become the Children’s Home Shopping Network the poor thing can’t resist.

Thank goodness that I can. I know that my daughter is expecting a Santa to drive a moving truck filled with toys down our driveway on Christmas morning. Hopefully she and Dylan will survive the modest amount of presents that I am planning to put under the Christmas tree. Until that special day arrives I’ll have to fight one commercial at a time. Only 157000, commercials left until Christmas.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Lydia Oh Sad Lydia


I’ll be honest I am not feeling like myself lately. I am a bit depressed to be honest. Instead of spending my time gallivanting and traipsing across my fair town engaging in embarrassing situations for your amusement as usual I have been holding up inside my house over eating Halloween candy. I would prefer to spend day and night in bed hiding from my kids and husband but the second I get up there under the covers someone drags me back out into reality, usually by one of my legs. Needless to say I haven’t been in the mood to be funny. I have only been in the mood to sleep for 12 hours in a bed littered with candy wrappers.


Who knows maybe I never fully recovered from turning 40 in the end of September? Maybe the instability of my husband’s work situation has finally worn me down? Maybe the cancelation of our extended cable package has done more harm than I ever thought possible? The loss of my beloved crap channels like VH1, MTV and Bravo have distressed me more than I can bear. Obviously I cannot be happy without the outlandishly wicked Atlanta Housewives, the brazen Rachel Zoe, the deliciously wretched dating shows, or that absurdly hilarious freak show knows as “Celebreality”.

How can I enjoy my life and truly be happy without my own ridiculous and flagrantly dysfunctional vice. Some people go to the gym to relax and rejuvenate themselves; I watch late night crap TV? What? The shows are ridiculous and flagrantly improper in every way, but watching them makes me happy, laugh out loud happy. Maybe this is the root of this funk?

That’s it. I am throwing away the Halloween candy and going down to the cable company tomorrow and getting my cable box and my smile back.

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