Tag: funny

We’re Not Leaving The House Until You Pee

On By LynnIn TurtleHead6 Comments

The other day I was talking to MyFriendJen about how weird it is that one of our parental responsibilities is to figure out when our kids are hungry, tired, or need to use the bathroom. It seems so obvious to us as adults — “Hey, my tummy is grumbling, my mouth is salivating, and I really want to just stand in front the fridge staring endlessly at it! What could this mean?” Yet, our children have no idea what their physical needs are. Their lack of self-awareness is dazzling. As a result, I spend a large part of my day keeping track of when everyone last ate, and slept, and peed. I know them better than they know themselves.

Whenever one of my kids is cranky, the answer is almost always that they are hungry or tired. They never believe me when I tell them that, though. Yesterday Captain Jelly Belly was having a complete meltdown/freak out here at home and I suddenly realized that it was an hour past his usual lunchtime and he hadn’t eaten anything yet, so Bingo! I knew what was wrong. But when I told him he really, really needed to just sit down and EAT THE SANDWICH, he swore up and down he did not feel like eating.

Eventually I had to threaten him with being sent to his room unless he ate, so he choose to sit and eat (sniffling and declaring me a Bad Mommy the whole time), until eventually he finished his sandwich, and voila! Totally new person. Magically transformed into happy, cheerful Captain.

I still think he has no idea what happened there, though. I’m sure he thinks it’s purely a coincidence that being force-fed a sandwich happened at the exact same time as the disappearance of all his personal crises.

We’re having a very small sixth birthday celebration for the Captain next weekend. He wanted to do all the same stuff as last year — namely, go to the KidsZone, which is an indoor playplace near us. However, we told him we couldn’t do it this year because trying to organize rides for all the kids to the Zone and back was too complex (we have to come back home to eat, as the KidsZone doesn’t allow outside food, and all the inside food isn’t safe for the Captain). He really, really wanted to do it, though, so eventually we told him we could manage it if he only invited ONE kid. He chose this really nice girl in his class, Lady G. They are best friends and play together every day, and it is strictly platonic — both of them would totally barf if you suggested otherwise.

Anyway, yesterday Lady G asked the Captain what he would like for his birthday. And of course the Captain says, “I don’t know.” Then Lady G says, “My mommy told me to ask you what kinds of things you play with at home.”

And the Captain, who spends 100% of his time talking about Star Wars, or playing Star Wars action figures, or playing Star Wars lego, or playing Star Wars video game, or drawing pictures of Star Wars characters, or reading books about Star Wars, says this:

“I usually just spend my time wandering around looking at stuff and trying to think of what to play with.”

Now that is a guy in touch with his wants and needs. Memo to his future wife: Yes, he was always like that.

I think I finally understand why my mother was still calling me in university to tell me to remember to eat. Apparently, a parent can never, ever assume any degree of self-awareness in their kids.

Faster Than Cheese

On By LynnIn TurtleHead8 Comments

The other day Captain Jelly Belly wanted me to move more quickly so he said to me,

“Hurry up, Mom! Faster than cheese!”

Then I laughed for like, ten minutes, which probably didn’t help speed me up any.

I thought it was a one-off, but then the next day, while I was poking around before going to school,

“Come ON, Mom! Faster than cheese!”

And I laughed for like, 20 minutes.

The most hilarious thing is that he cannot understand why I think this is so funny. He stamps his foot and gets a little pissy because I’m laughing when it is OBVIOUSLY not a joke.

After a few times of me totally cracking up over this, he tried to explain that he meant to say, “You know, like faster than making cheese, you get it now?”

But that was only funnier, both because he had obviously been searching for some sort of reasonable explanation, and also because faster than making cheese means I could take, oh, three to five months to actually accomplish the task at hand, and still beat the cheese.

So that’s hardly a challenge, there.

Naturally this immortal phrase has been adopted by the whole family now. So if you see us at the park, you’ll know it’s me because I’ll be the one shouting at the kids to, “Come on already, FASTER THAN CHEESE!”

Tee Hee

On By LynnIn TurtleHead1 Comment

Funnies from the Captain:

After we summarized the opening scene of Return Of The Jedi:

“Why does Jabba freeze Leia and Chewie too, even though only Han lost his luggage?”

After we had a long talk with him about why he could not turn a box into a toy gun:

“Could only one of you talk to me about responsibility? Because it’s really hard to turn my head back and forth like this.”

It’s like 1972 around here

On By LynnIn TurtleHead6 Comments

This morning Sir Monkeypants put on a music mix over breakfast, as he often does. One of the songs he selected in this morning’s playlist was Be My Yoko Ono by the Barenaked Ladies. It’s a sassy song about how they don’t think Yoko should be blamed for the Beatles breakup.

Captain Jelly Belly asked me what the song was about, as he often does, so I started to explain about this band called The Beatles. The kids actually know of The Beatles, because songs like Yellow Submarine and Here Comes The Sun are regulars in our morning music mixes. I explained how The Beatles were one of the greatest bands ever, but then they broke up, and some people thought that it was Yoko’s fault.

Suddenly, Gal Smiley burst into tears.

She was sad that The Beatles had broken up. Actually, she was more than sad — she was distressed. Beside herself with grief. She wanted to know WHY, WHY did they fight? WHY did they get broken? WHY wouldn’t they make any more music?

I tried to explain that The Beatles had made hundreds of songs before they broke up, and there were many more of their songs left for her to discover and love.

She didn’t care.

I tried to explain that even though they didn’t make music together anymore, they were probably all still friends and got together at Christmas. (I didn’t think it was a very good time to bring up the fact that two of them were deceased.)

She cried even harder.

I tried to explain that once they had broken up, the four of them still made music, good music in fact, and that maybe, just maybe they’d reunite one day.

No dice.

Eventually she was getting so hysterical that Sir Monkeypants took her off by herself and rocked her in our rocking chair and somehow got her to stop crying. She calmed down enough to go to school but she was still sniffling and sad as she left.

As Sir Monkeypants said, “I guess we’re all upset about the breakup of The Beatles, but some of us have had more time to get used to the shock.”

Heaven help us if the Barenaked Ladies ever break up!

Dream Car

On By LynnIn TurtleHead3 Comments

Way back before we had kids, Sir Monkeypants and I invented a car game called “Dream Home.” We’d each take turns describing one feature that our Dream Home would have. It started out grounded in reality — my dream home had straight stairs and a finished basement; his had four bedrooms and one of those big bathtubs. Eventually we let our imaginations fly, and I added things like a conservatory and an indoor pool, while Sir Monkeypants wanted a room just to hold his bikes and another one for all his computer equipment.

Eventually we spun off this game to create Dream Car (mine has a mini-fridge and a bathroom; his has various engine-related special modifications that I listen to politely but don’t understand at all).

Recently Sir Monkeypants has revived Dream Car, both because he’s thinking of replacing our second car in a few years, and because he and Captain Jelly Belly can’t stop watching Top Gear.

The other day we were playing Dream Car in the car (of course). The kids are really into this game now, and they crack us up all the time.

(And then we have to spend the next 20 minutes explaining what was so funny, Daddy.)

Gal Smiley says that her Dream Car is big enough to have a whole house inside, so when you need a snack or to use the bathroom, it’s all right there! She would like it to have an “automatic” mode so she doesn’t have to actually drive it around, and she would like a giant mural painted on the outside of herself and her three favourite stuffed animals. Also, it can fly, and it would constantly play rock music at top volume (preferably The Killers or Tegan And Sara).

Captain Jelly Belly would like his Dream Car to be a Mini Cooper, but with giant monster truck wheels so it can drive over anything. It’s the fastest car in the world (while Sir Monkeypants claims that his Dream Car’s speedometer goes to INFINITY, Captain Jelly Belly says that his goes to AND BEYOND). It can crush anything and it is very good at fighting and keeps Captain Jelly Belly safe under all circumstances because it cannot be damaged by guns or fire or big rocks falling on it. It has a special little seat for his stuffed monkey Big Wheel, and Big Wheel also gets his own tiny Nintendo where he can play Star Wars Lego, but all the characters are monkeys. Even though it’s a Mini, there is room inside for anyone in the whole world who would like to come for a ride, and there is a special machine that constantly doles out chicken nuggets and french fries. Oh, it is filled to the top with all manner of Star Wars toys, each described in great detail.

I don’t really think I need to explain what was so funny!

I Hate That Wheelbarrow.

On By LynnIn TurtleHead10 Comments

Last Wednesday morning, a wheelbarrow fell on my head.

We keep our rather large wheelbarrow hanging on the wall of our garage, using a special snap clip that was made for this purpose. I was putting out some garbage and I nudged it with my shoulder and it came crashing down. ON MY HEAD.

I was so shocked and scared, I actually cried. Sadly for Sir Monkeypants, that made it a complete set — every single one of his family members had had a crying fit that morning that he had had to deal with. Lucky for me he was still at home and still had some comfort left in him to give.

Now I have a nice big bruise on my left temple, some scrapes on my forehead, and a weird thing going on with my left cheek where it doesn’t look injured, but when you touch it it kind of feels like you are dragging your hand across sandpaper. That doesn’t seem good, does it?

So yesterday was garbage day here, and I was outside bundling up the garbage to go out, and guess what?

A WHEELBARROW FELL ON MY HEAD. AGAIN.

This time it hit me in the back of the head, so at least my injuries aren’t as noticeable. Otherwise, I’m guessing I might get a few inquires from concerned neighbours who aren’t going to buy the whole, “A wheelbarrow fell on my head! Twice!” story.

I’ve brought the wheelbarrow inside. It’s sitting in the middle of our living room. I think I will leave it there until we can fix the hanger for it — likely in the summer, when our hands won’t freeze off in the process.

Or maybe I will just burn it in effigy and LAUGH. LAUGH AS IT BURNS.

Just thought I’d let you all know what a wheelbarrow is doing in the middle of my living room, in case you stopped by. And that I am not a victim of spousal abuse, in case you were wondering but were too nervous to ask.

Carrot in the Nose

On By LynnIn TurtleHead

Last night we were sitting around the table, having a nice family dinner. Little Miss Sunshine was having some chopped, boiled carrots, because at 17 1/2 months, she STILL ONLY HAS TWO TEETH.

So anyway, the Little Miss is having her carrots, eating them quite happily, and then for no apparent reason she took one of them and shoved it up her nose.

We weren’t sure which was more horrifying — that she had a carrot in her nose, or that she seemed completely nonplussed at having a carrot in her nose. In fact, the only part that really bothered her was when we pinned her arms down so I could go in there and fish it out.

MyFriendJen is the oldest of four, and her mother always said that if her last child had been born first, there would have been only one. I’m starting to think that the Little Miss is on to that plan. Maybe I should tell her that we aren’t having any more kids, so she can cut it out with her terrorist activities aimed at preventing any more babies from taking her place.

In other kid-related news, I made my annual pilgrimage to the movies on Monday with LuckySevens and FameThrowa, and there were dozens and dozens of teenagers clogging the hallways and doorways. I just could not get over the teenaged fashions of today. What is it with boys and their need to wear their pants around their butt? If you’re going to show off your undies, at least invest in some Spiderman underoos or some Buzz Lightyear underpants so I have something to entertain me. It also seems to be a real fad these days, for both boys and girls, to wear their hair either spiked up or completely covering their lovely faces. I hated it.

I always thought I’d be a laid back parent when it came to personal appearance, because that’s something that is important to a kid and doesn’t really matter in the long run. As long as we could talk and my kid was responsible and kind, it wouldn’t matter if they had purple hair or liked to wear lime green fishnets. But seeing those kids at the movies totally brought out the old fogey in me.

I am SUCH a square. Sorry, my future teenagers!

Fuzzy Wuzzy Wuz A Bear

On By LynnIn TurtleHead5 Comments

So! Yesterday I had my hair fixed.

A couple of days after the infamous First Choice haircut of a couple weeks ago, I was trying to do something, anything with it. While I was looking in the mirror I noticed that it was really short on top, while still really long at the back. And I had a horrible, awful, terrible realization.

I HAD A MULLET.

And it wasn’t even just a mullet. I was missing a whole chunk of hair on my right hand side over my ear — there still is a little bald spot — so the longer hair was thick on the left, and stringy and thin on the right.

A DRUNKEN MULLET, if you will.

Thus began several consecutive days of baseball hat wearing and major fretting. Eventually I decided to risk getting it cut again, to see if it could be cleaned up at all. I followed the recommendation of my friend RheostaticsFan and booked an appointment with Veigh at Spahara.

I can’t believe how nervous I was going in. During the hair washing segment I was actually kind of shaking. I had my cavity filled last week (more on that some other day) and it was actually more calming to have a drill in my mouth than to imagine someone going at my head with shears. What the heck is wrong with me?

Anyway, Veigh was awesome. I liked her very much. She admitted to my hair issues without making me feel like I had a squirrel on my head and she did an amazing job of fixing things up. She cut about two more inches off the bottom to lessen the two-layer effect, and she trimmed everything else so it was even and sleek. She even did some sort of magic to even out the two sides so now you can hardly tell even detect the bald spot.

Yay!

It’s been a long while since I had such short hair but with the quality of the cut, I think it looks kind of professional and mature, yet still sassy and young. In fact, I feel sort of Martha Stewart-ish in it.

At the end of the cut I told Veigh to skip the blow-dry. I hate having my hair “set” — I hate the goop they put in it, it takes me three days to get it all out, and I hate sitting under a hot dryer for half an hour, immobilized while fretting about all the other things I could be doing with that time. If the blow-dry made me feel all glamorous I suppose I’d go through with it anyway, but I usually prefer my hair when it is air dried, and besides, I’m going to stick a toque on it and go home and change a poopy diaper, so what do I need to look all done up for?

And since I skipped the “set” part, I only paid $35! AWESOME.

There’s no freakin’ way I’d post a before picture of myself on the internet, but here’s what I look like after:

My twin Martha Stewart

Oops! That’s Martha Stewart! I get the two of us mixed up sometimes now.

Lesser Of Two Evils

On By LynnIn TurtleHead3 Comments

Yesterday morning, before breakfast:

Me: Ugh, I feel so nauseous this morning.

Sir Monkeypants: Maybe it’s a tumor.*

Me: It’s not a tumor. Don’t say that.

Sir Monkeypants: Maybe…you’re pregnant!

Me: DON’T. EVEN.

Sir Monkeypants: Maybe it’s a tumor?

Me: That’s better.

* A quote from the movie Kindergarten Cop.

Happy Birthday, SocialButterfly

On By LynnIn TurtleHead5 Comments

My older sister, SocialButterfly, turns 40 years old today.

In honour of her birthday, I would like to give her the gift of an apology for all the crappy things I did to her as a kid.

I’m sorry I hit you in the head that time with a Fisher Price toy camera, and you had to get stitches.

I’m sorry about that one time I didn’t flush the toilet after filling it with hair from my hairbrush, and you teased me about it, and I gave you a HUGE lecture about how much it costs to flush a toilet and how we should not be doing it unnecessarily, and you were all chagrined, when really, you were right in the first place, and I should have flushed.

Remember when your Grade 8 yearbook came out, and there was a page where people had been invited to complete the sentence, “I love…”? And you had said, “…waking up to music.” And I thought that answer was totally lame, so just to prove a point, I turned on your radio at full volume at 7am on a Saturday morning, thus “waking” you up to “music”? Yeah, sorry about that one. I was a wee bit jackassy.

I’m really sorry about that one time when you were in Grade 4, and you were trying really hard to impress a cute guy in your class, so you told him you had a robot in your bedroom that cleaned it for you, and he came to me for validation, and I failed to back you up.

Sorry I just told the world about that robot thing.

I’m sorry that when we used to stay up after our official bedtime, pretending in the dark that we were twin babies named Tina and Bina, that I made you be Bina, even though you always wanted to be Tina.

I’m sorry that I have, in the past, suggested to you that Placido Domingo is uncool.

I’m very, very sorry that I was too self-involved during my university years to pay much attention to your kids, when they were wee babies and toddlers. I had no idea what I was missing out on; I completely did not get it when I called to talk to you and you would dare to talk all about your kids instead. I get it now. I sucked back then.

I apologize for that one time that Nana and Papa brought us back wallets as gifts from a trip to Florida, and I cried and cried because you got a pink one and I got a blue one but I WANTED THE PINK ONE, and you caved in and traded with me. You have a good heart. I was (am?) a whiny baby.

Sorry about all those times you wanted to socialize, but I just wanted to sit and read a book, and so totally rebuffed you. I must say though, you never seemed to take it personally. I suspect you have always understood me much better than I have understood you.

Now you’re 40, and I hope I’m a better sister to you now than I was then. Just to prove it, I’m going to call you on the phone right now and I vow to talk to you for a full fifteen minutes, which is terribly painful for me (not because it’s you, just because it’s the phone, and I HATE the phone), but it’ll make you happy.

Happy birthday, SocialButterfly!