But what color is the dress???

Last night we were watching The Dilemma and J was in the mood to be a pain in the ass.  And so he was.  It went something like this…

During one of Winona Ryder’s first scenes in the movie…

J: Is that Winona Ryder?
Me: Yes.
J: She doesn’t look so good.
Me: No, she doesn’t.
J: She didn’t age well.  She’s looking really old.  (Note – J says this all the time and it drives me crazy.)
Me: Well…we’re all getting older.
J: Man, she looks really old…like ancient.
Me: She doesn’t look that bad.  That hairdo isn’t flattering though.
J: Yeah…plus she’s really freaking old.  How old is she anyway?
Me: Your age. 
J: Oh.
Me: Exactly.  Shut up.

During a scene where Vince Vaughn’s character confronts Winona Ryder’s character…

J: Who bought a dress?
Me: Her sister.
J: Who’s sister?
Me: Geneva’s sister.
J: She has a sister?
Me: Apparently.
J: Where is she?
Me: Geneva is texting her.
J: Texting who?
Me: Ronny thought she was texting her boyfriend, but she’s texting her sister.
J: Whose sister?
Me: Geneva’s sister.
J: But who bought a dress?
Me: Her sister.
J: Who is her sister?
Me: Her sister is not the point.  The point is that she wasn’t texting her boyfriend…she was texting her sister.
J: What does the dress look like?
Me: Shut up.

When the movie was almost over…

J: Can you make me a root beer float and then scratch my leg so I can fall asleep?
Me: No.
Me: One or the other. 
J: Fine…root beer float…because you don’t scratch very well…you are a bad scratcher.
…So I make him the root beer float…
…And a few minutes later…
J: Will you scratch now?
Me: No.  You just told me I am a bad scratcher.
J: Yes…but you can practice right now and then you can get better.
Me: No thanks.
J: I’m just looking out for you…trying to make you the very best you can be.
Me: I appreciate that…but I’m still not scratching.
J: I was just kidding…you are the best scratcher ever.
Me: Flattery will get you no where. 
J: I took a shot. 
Me: Go to sleep.

And he did…thank God! 

At least he gives me lots of practice for dealing with toddlers so I’ll be ready!


Oh…And make sure you stop by 400 Wake-ups today and check out part 2 of Ally’s recap of her trip.

The random musings of J…

J claims that he doesn’t like when I write about him.  However, he often gives me excellent material…so good that it’s like he’s asking for it.  The truth is…I think he secretly loves being written about.  He’s been giving me an awful lot of good material lately, which I’ve been saving up. 

I was going to save this for Friday, but since it’s a particularly gloomy, rainy day here, I decided we could all use a laugh.  So, I give to you…the random musings of J…

  • A few weeks ago, J had a cold.  He wanted medicine, so I gave him a box containing both NyQuil and DayQuil pills.  He said “What do you think will happen if I take one NyQuil and one DayQuil?  Will I feel like it’s noon?”  In the end, we decided against experimentation.
  • In the car on the way to Connecticut, J was talking to the dogs.  I was mostly ignoring him, until I heard him say “Sadie, you are now on your way from the ghetto to the meadow.”  That’s become our CT motto.
  • J was eating fries the other night and they looked really good.  I reached out to take one and he snatched them away.  When I asked why he wasn’t sharing he said “You are on the express train to skinny town, my friend.  There are no local stops on that train…and these fries are a local stop in a bad neighborhood.”
  • I have a tendency to repeatedly ask the same question if I get an answer that I don’t like.  This, of course, drives J nuts.  Now…if I do that, he will immediately shout “Asked and answered, your Honor!”.  It makes me laugh and then I usually leave him alone.
  • Last weekend, I noticed that we had a lot of ant hills in the backyard and I found a few ants in the house.  I pointed it out to J and told him he should speak to the lawn guy about it.  His alternate suggestion…”maybe we should get an anteater instead.”  His rationale?  “It would probably cost as much as having the lawn guy take care of it, but this way the girls would have a new friend.”  Sadly, anteaters aren’t native to Connecticut.
  • And the best for last…J had to go to a dinner on Friday night…which I elected to skip.  I picked him up after it was over and we headed to Connecticut.  He was a little tipsy when he got in the car and he didn’t shut up the whole ride.

    J: (singing) Someone left the cake out in the rain…and I’ll never have that recipe agaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiinnnn!
    Me: Really, with the singing?
    J: That’s a good song.
    Me: No, it’s not.
    J: Who sings that song?
    Me: A lot of people, but you are probably thinking of Donna Summer.
    J: No…I think it’s Eileen someone…Eileen Brennigan.
    Me: I think you just made that up.
    J: That is a really good song…I’m going to look up Eileen Brennigan…(talking to himself as he types into his phone) someone left the cake out in the rain…
    Me: It’s called McArthur Park.
    J: Where?
    Me: The song…it’s called McArthur Park.
    J: No it’s not…it’s called Cake in the Rain.
    Me:  Ok…fine it’s called Cake in the Rain.
    J: Jimmy Webb wrote it…(singing) I don’t think that I can take it, ’cause it took so long to baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake it.  Oh look, it’s called McArthur Park.
    Me: Yes, I know.  Maybe it’s time to stop singing.
    J: But it’s a good song.
    Me: How was the dinner?
    J: Boring.  But there was a DJ.
    Me: Well, that explains it.
    J: What?
    Me: The singing.
    J: Someone left the cake out in the rain…I don’t think that I can take it…never agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiin!
    Me: Please stop singing.
    J: You are just jealous of my fantastic singing voice.
    Me: Yes, that must be it.

  Since this weekend is Easter, I fully expect there to be talk of the Apostles at some point.  I’ll be sure to take good notes!

My favorite part of this post?  The anteater.  Why?  Because it gives me a reason to post one of my favorite pictures ever…

I don’t know why I find that so funny…but it seriously makes me laugh every. single. time.

Random Musings Friday…

I have to admit that I seriously slacked off this week in keeping notes for today’s post.  I only had one or two things to write about…and I can’t have that because my brother totally yells at me when RMF is too short.  Luckily, J and I went to the Giants’ game last night and all of a sudden I had a ton of stuff to work with.  There’s just something about New Jersey that gives me a lot to say/make fun of.  Also…driving in the car with J leads to priceless conversations.  So for your reading enjoyment…

  • Driving over the George Washington Bride, I noticed a car next to us cover in NY Giants bumper stickers…
    Me: Do you think those guys are Giants fans?
    J: What guys?
    Me: The guys in that car right there?
    J: What car?
    Me: The car right next to us covered in Giants paraphernalia.
    J: I don’t know what you are talking about.
    (The car pulls into the lane in front of us.)
    Me: That car…right in front of us…with all the Giants paraphernalia on it.
    J: What about it?
    Me: Seriously?  Nevermind.
    J: (snickering) Hee hee hee…you said paraphernalia.
    Me: You are an idiot.
  • When you come off the GW Bridge, the highway splits into express lanes and local lanes.  Everyone always think the express lanes are better and go that way…which means that there will be traffic that way…you know, because EVERYONE goes that way.  Me…I like to take the local…there’s always less traffic on the local side.  Every single time we drive over the bridge  J asks me if he should take the express or the local.  Last night’s conversation went like this…oh and I apologize for the crudeness of this one…
    J: Local or express?
    Me: Local…always local.
    J: Right…because then you can get off the highway to take a crap. 
    Me: Excuse me?
    J: Well I’m just saying that on the express side you can’t get off at the exits.  But on the local side you can get off if there is traffic and go eat or get gas or just park and stretch your legs.
    Me: What does that have to do with taking a crap?
    J: I’m just saying.
    Me: Don’t just say…ok.  Just shush.
  • Sometimes I catch myself doing or saying things and I realize that I’m just being a complete ass.  I had one of those moments last night.  The Giants weren’t playing very well and the game didn’t get really interesting until the end of the 3rd quarter, so I spent a lot of time looking around at the people sitting by us.  I noticed a lot of girls in really short shorts walking around with Louis Vuitton bags.  I started thinking to myself…what’s up with all the short shorts?  Is it, like, the required uniform?  And if so, am I going to have to stop coming to the games?  Because I am NOT wearing short shorts.  And who brings a Louis Vuitton bag to a football game?  Seriously…you have to bring your designer labels everywhere you go?  At this point I noticed…out of the side of my eye…my bag, resting on the seat next to me.  My Louis Vuitton bag.  Oops.  Well…at least I wasn’t wearing short shorts. 
  • When we were kids my parents often took us to Mets games.  They would buy the 4 tickets and then, at the game, they’d buy my brother and I food and programs and t-shirts and whatever we wanted…and we wanted everything and we ate a LOT.  While I know it wasn’t cheap (and both of my parents just confirmed this for me), it was still do-able.  Now, all the NY teams have made it so expensive to go to a game that I doubt the average family of four would be able to do the same thing.  J and I figured it out last night and we guessed that it would cost a family of four between $700 and $1,000 to go to a game (depending on where you sit), after buying the tickets, t-shirts, hats, food, programs…and that doesn’t include the per ticket license fees.  How many families can afford to do something like that?  Probably not many.  It’s a shame too, because those Mets games when I was kid were really awesome. 
  • Kids today have absolutely no manners.  Our seats happen to be right in the middle of the row…of course…so when we get up we have to walk past a lot of people to get out.  It’s annoying to everyone to have to stand up to let me pass, so I really try not to do it often.  I did have to get up once to go to the bathroom and as I tried to negotiate my way down the row, the four kids sitting next to me refused to get up.  I had to climb over them and in the process almost knocked over one of their drinks.  When I came back, they continued to just sit there like I wasn’t trying to get by.  Their father did get up for me to pass, but didn’t correct any of his kids or tell them to move.  I’m really hoping they aren’t going to be at every game.  They are super annoying.

And lastly…I was able to channel my inner Theresa Guidice last night and deliver my favorite line in RHONJ history (from Monday’s reunion show)…

  • I told J that I was going to use some of our car conversations for today’s post.  He always tells me that his material is copyrighted and I’m not allowed to use it without his express written consent.  I ignore him, of course.  So last night, he told me that I’m not allowed to talk about him…which set me up perfectly to yell…”Bitch, I don’t talk about you!” in my best Jersey Girl accent.  It made my night!

And that’s all I’ve got for this week.  Geez…that was really long.  If you are still reading…thank you!

I hope you all have a fabulous and wonderful holiday weekend!  See you Monday.

A glimpse into the madness…

You all seemed to love my last glimpse into what life in my house sounded like, so I thought I’d give you some more. 

The other night we were watching Criminal Minds…a show about serial killers.  There were three girls locked in a room, being starved by a killer…

Me: Can’t they drink their urine?
J: What?
Me: You know…because he’s not giving them food or water.
J: …shakes his head…
Me: What?  Isn’t that what happens when people get lost at sea?  They drink their urine?
J: You aren’t allowed to speak for the rest of the night.
Me: Why?  Is that not a valid suggestion?  Tell me why it’s not a valid suggestion?
J: You are an idiot sometimes.
Me: But why is that not a valid suggestion?  I mean, it will keep them from dehydrating.
J: Hush.

J comes into the bedroom  holding a box…

Me: What’s that?
J: It’s something that is none of your business.
Me: Is it a toy that I can play with?
J: It’s a box of none of your business.
Me: Funny…because it looks like a clock.
J: That’s right…it’s a clock…to tell me when it’s time for you to stop being so nosy.
Me: Why did you get a clock?
J: I just told you.
Me: No I mean, did someone give you a clock?  Was it a gift?
J: What’s wrong?  Jealous that I got a shitty clock and you didn’t?
Me: Yup, so jealous.
J: No one ever gave you a clock.
Me: You bought me a watch.
J: Not the same. (J walks over to the dresser with the shitty clock.)
Me: What the hell are you doing with that shitty clock?  You aren’t going to put that shitty clock in here are you.
J: Yes, so you know when it’s time for you to stop being so nosy.

At lunch after my aunt’s funeral…we were talking to my brother and sister-in-law about names…

J: Didn’t people used to name their kids after the apostles?
Me: Here we go again with the apostles…
Brother: What do you mean?
Me: I mean that J’s got a thing about the apostles.
J: What were the names of the apostles.
Me: Really, you can’t just let it go?
J: (ignoring me) Matthew, Mark…
Me:  John, Paul, George, Ringo…
Brother and SIL: (snickering)
J: No seriously…Matthew, Mark, Luke…
Me: No seriously yourself…every time we go to a funeral or other church related event it’s always “What were the names of the apostles?” and you never remember and you drive everyone nuts.
J: You don’t remember either.
Me: True, but I don’t bring it up…give me that phone…I’m going to look it up…
J: There was a Bartholemew, a Matthias, a Tomias…
Me: Tomias???  Now you are really reaching.  (reading from a website) Mark and Luke were not apostles.  Also, no Tomias, but that’s not a shock because you made that up.  Oh, and Matthias? He only became an apostle after Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus.  (I read off the names of the apostles)
J: That’s not right…
Me: Of course it’s right…it’s right here…look…
SIL: Did you both go to Catholic school?
Me: What’s your point? (to J) Can we stop with the apostles now?
J: Fine…you are no fun.

There you have it.  We are like two idiots sometimes.

Judas had a what now???

Many years ago I had a conversation with a friend of mine.  She said she didn’t know how she and her husband were going to be parents.  She said they were far too immature and often had conversations about things like farting.  How were they ever going to be role models for their kids?  What was going to become of her poor children?  Well…she was pregnant when we had that conversation and I can tell you that her kids turned out just fine.  But I understand where she was coming from.  I want to have a baby and I’m old, so it’s really got to happen kind of soon.  But I worry about J and I as parents in that same way.  Sometimes the things we discuss are…frightening.  They are most definitely inappropriate conversations to have in front of kids. 

Here’s a little sampling of what we discussed this past weekend…

Setting: eating dinner…I scraped my fork against the plate…which I guess I do a lot and which drives J crazy…

J: Are you going to break that too…like the glass? (I broke a glass once while putting it into the dishwasher…and J has never gotten over it.)
Me: Here we go with the glass again…yes, maybe I will break the plate.
J: Then you can be just like Judas.
Me: Come again?
J: You know…because after Judas betrayed Jesus there were only eleven apostles.
Me: Right…but what does that have to do with broken plates?
J: Jesus told Judas to take his plate  and his gold and get the fuck out.
Me: And?
J: And then the apostles only had eleven plates…like we will if you break that plate.
Me: I see.  Um, it was silver.
J: What was silver?
Me: Judas…he got 30 pieces of silver…not gold.
J: Right, but he took that silver and went to the dentist and got himself some grillz…Yeah boy!
Me: You have problems.

Setting: Watching Alice In Wonderland…

J: Why did she follow that rabbit? And what’s he doing outside of his rabbit hole?
Me: That’s how the story goes…she is bored and sees the rabbit so she follows it.
J: But it’s supposed to be a white rabbit.
Me: That is a white rabbit.
J: But it’s wearing a topcoat.
Me: It’s still a white rabbit.
J: But why is he outside?
Me: Because that’s how the story goes.
J: But isn’t this movie about that Janis Joplin song?
Me: What Janis Joplin song?
J: You know…(singing) One pill makes you smaller and one pill makes you tall…
Me: That’s Jefferson Airplane.  And the song is about the book.  You know the book came first right?
J: Hey, does it really end with everyone eating her because she turns into a cake?
Me: What?
J: You know, like the Tom Petty video.
Me: No…have you never read the book?
J: Books are for losers.
Me: You have problems.

There were definitely many others along these same lines…but that are just not fit to print here.  One involved the words “ball sack”. 

It’s not just the conversations, either.  Our terms of endearment for each other are things like “smelly pirate hooker” and “ass puppet”.  We give each other the middle finger…all the time and for no reason at all.  We curse like truck drivers.    A common answer to a request is “suck it” or “bite me”…which always sends the other person into peals of hysterical laughter.

Basically, we are two giant idiots.  How are we ever going to grow up enough to raise children?  Are our children going to go to school and call their class-mates “claptrap” or “slappy”?  I have real fear for our future children and I hope that someday that will forgive us.