Puddles on the Dance Floor

One of my favorite old songs growing up was "Sway" by Dean Martin.

The funny thing is, it was my mother's LEAST favorite Dean Martin song.   She misheard the lyrics as

Other dancers may pee on the floor
Dear but my eyes will see only you (kind of dangerous if they actually are peeing on the floor, no?)
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go wee (Great.  Now we are both really in danger of slipping.  Maybe we should just sit this one out...)

My mom knew that wasn't what he was singing, but somehow she couldn't get that picture out of her head during the song.

Much as I love the song, I like to kid people about the "violence" in it.
"I can hear the sound of violence long before it begins" (That would make you a great cop, but what does it have to do with dancing?  Are you expecting to have to fight over me?  Just let him cut in...)

My friend Katdish did an awesome post in January about misheard lyrics, with some hysterical comments.

If you are interested in what Dino is really singing, here it is..

When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know howI'm labeling this as a "Life is Funny" post and linking this to my friend's blog to encourage her to bring the carnival back!
Sway me smooth, sway me now
You know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

This video may be more to your taste.  It's not Dino, but I still like it!


I'm linking back to my friend here, and hoping she brings back the "Life is Funny" blog carnival.

Have You Ever Ridden on a Duck?

Have you ever been to the Wisconsin Dells?  There are two parts to this vacation.  One can travel on  either a boat or a"DUCK" to see the actual Dells of the Wisconsin River.  Then there is the touristy stuff.  Both are fun and worthwhile.  But neither is an adventure!
About ten years ago, Bob and I thought going to the Dells would be fun.   Bob suggested, though, that instead of staying on strip,  we stay in a fishing resort in Poynette, Wisconsin.  (No, Bob does  not fish)  I figured this was one of those "six of one, half a dozen of the other" situations.   It was near enough to Lake Delton to get there in about twenty minutes, but far enough from there that we wouldn't be kept up at night with partyers.  Besides,  we wanted to visit Circus World Museum in Baraboo, so it wasn't like we just wanted to eat at Paul Bunyan's, ride the boat and the DUCK,

Not necessarily a Wisconsin "DUCK", but a "DUCK" nonetheless.

see Tommy Bartlett's show, and visit Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum.  We wanted to do other things, too!

When we got, there, Bob saw that next door to where we were (it was a lovely place, but by "resort", they mean we had a cabin with a bathroom, not some fancy schmancy place) staying was a boat rental place right on the river.   He thought renting a pontoon boat and exploring the river sounded like fun.  Again, I thought "six of one, have a dozen of the other".  (Really, wherever we go, that's where the party is at, so it doesn't really matter where we are...) So, on a five day trip to "the Dells" we were planning to spend one day in Baraboo, and one day on the river.

Well, we tell the owner of the boat rental place that we are newbies, and he shows us how to drive it.   Then we go for a lovely ride on the river and dock at a nice little restaurant.   We had a nice lunch, and decided it was time to head back so we could return the boat on time.

Well, it on the way back, the boat ends up getting stuck in sandbars, and we have to get out and push the boat out, then hop back in it.  That was all well and good when the water came up to our knees.   But at one point, the boat drifted away from us too quickly, and we had to swim a few hundred feet after it!   Now,  Bob and I tried climbing over the side as we had before, but there was too much boat sticking out of the water, so we swam along side of it for a while.   Then we tried getting in from the back, and that worked much better.  We got in the boat, I looked at Bob, and then I laughed and laughed and laughed.   I'm afraid we didn't take pictures of the event (after all, who could forget...) but the picture to the right reminds me of him when we got back in the boat that day.  Poor guy.  A proper wife would have been worried that he and I would catch a chill, but I couldn't get over how funny he looked!  Bob, bless him, was just glad I was taking things in stride.  Either that, or he was worried that I cracked up. I'm not sure which.
Afterwards things seemed to go rather smoothly, at least until we realized that nothing looked familiar.   It seems we went down the wrong branch!   Nothing to worry about though, as they connected just past where we were staying.   The owner of the shop was getting worried about his boat because it was almost closing time, and the weather had changed.  (Did I mention it had started to rain?  Woops.)   He saw us and towed us back in, while I laughed and laughed.
What was so funny?  Nothing really.  I was just filled with joy that everything worked out okay, and that Bob and I had faced our adventure working things out together and not griping at each other and bickering.  Love is not easily angered, and I was so glad to be sharing any and all adventures with Bob, whom I love so much, and loves me as well.  I hope they all turn out as well, with  us at the right destination when everything is all said and done.




This is being submitted to the One Word blog carnival at Peter Pollock's blog.  Today's One Word is adventure.
(I had thought this would make a good "Life is Funny" post, too, but my friend hasn't been hosting her blog carnival lately.)

Reasons Our Local Grocery Store Should Go Back to Playing the Radio Over the Intercom

Dear Grocery Store Management:

I am writing to inform you that I was in no way trying to seduce anyone with a tube of Pillsbury French Loaf and pound of butter yesterday.   I was just artistically interpreting one of the great mezzo-soprano arias of all time for supermarket participation.   I blame you for the disturbance.   Ever since you stopped playing music over your intercom system, I have been forced to sing and dance to the music in my mind while I shop.  Unfortunately for you and your customers, I ran in for a few things yesterday after I had just come back from seeing Carmen in 3D.  The Habanera IS such a catchy tune... la moooor......  LA moooooor....  la MOOOOR.... LA MOOOR!!!!!   I don't think I was so much frightening the children, as it was the mothers understood that Carmen was not an appropriate topic to explain to them when they went home.  To my credit, both the butcher, and the man in the check out line were highly entertained.  Also, I do not see why I was forced to buy the whole carton of eggs.  I only used one egg, and I did not even break it!
Please consider playing the radio over your intercom system again, so that I can go back to singing "Fernando"  to the cantaloupe, and we can all go back to normal.
Thank you,
Helenatrandom

P.S.  My husband has recycled the caps from Snapple bottles, and suggests that next time I can use them as castanets.   It really is in your best interest to comply.

I'm sure my regular readers are well aware that my rendition of the Habanera was probably about as sensual as this one with, Beaker, Animal, and Swedish Chef.

If my friend Wendy still had her Life is Funny blog carnival, I'd link it here. How about going over there and demanding that she provide her Life is Funny Blog Carnival again?

So Tell Me, Will I Be Able to Wiggle My Pinky Toe?

Because I wasn't able to before....

What does an elephant do if it breaks a toe?
Gives up ballet dancing.

Good news!   The tape is off the toesies!  I have been away from my computer for a while because I cracked three of my toes in four places.   I know.   What does that have to do with anything?   It's not like I type with my toes!   Well, for the first three weeks, the doctor wanted me to have my foot elevated at all times,  minus eating and peeing of course.  And of course I went to Church and taught CCD.  And of course I went to Christmas parties.  In other words, I obeyed the doctor 95% the time, which is the best I've done in obeying a man since my daddy was alive.   (Bob has a special kind of way of convincing me he is right so that by the end of a discussion I usually agree with him, so the word "obey" hardly fits in such situations.)  And speaking of Bob, he was a darling who even took on the cooking responsibilities while I was elevating my foot.   Unfortunately, we couldn't figure out a position for me at my computer desk that would allow my toes to be higher than my heart.
The next two weeks the doctor allowed me to put weight on my foot and do what I want, but with the tape still on it.  That meant that for every hour I spent on my foot, I wanted it elevated for an hour and a half.   (Really.  My feet swell during the day, and swollen and taped toesies are no fun.   It feels like the tape is trying to choke the toes.   That's right.  My toes couldn't breathe!)
So now with Christmas a few days away, I need to spend time cleaning house.  My only company is my uncle who knows the situation, but still, it wouldn't look very hospitable if my house was a mess.  I won't be able to make up for five weeks in a few days, so my decorating is limited to a wreath and tree in the window, the throws my mom made on the furniture, and a poinsettia on the dining room table.  I suppose that since this is my first Christmas without Momma, I really don't want more than that (except for Bob to find the creche) anyway, but now I have a reasonable excuse.
So now that the tape is off the toesies, I can dance on the table for Christmas!  (Not really.)

Blog Libs: I Can Copy People, Too, You Know...

Since Wendy is being lazy and just posted a comment she left on Red Clay Diaries Blog Libs post, I figured I'd do the same. You will find out how I freak out the butcher, or perhaps how I frighten men in beige vans once Wendy starts writing original posts for her Life is Funny blog carnival again.

Wow! It’s been 12 days since I last posted! I am such a slacker! No really, THIS time I have a good excuse: I was too busy working on catching M&Ms with my tongue to write. And now I have so much to tell you that I don’t know where to start!

For example: Today was a crack-up. When we got up, Abby discovered that Scruff had gotten into his/her car and danced on it. Well, as you can imagine, we all just laughed and laughed and laughed!

Then on the way to Honolulu, we saw a flower . Whoa. Of course, then Bob giggled. And really, what do you expect?

I almost crashed, I was laughing so hard.

Holy Jalapeno. (I crack myself up.)

Besides all the fun of today, I’ve been learning loads of important life lessons over the past 332 weeks!

Like nobody really needs to know what book you are reading at the airport, just slap a leather bible cover on it.

I KNOW. Isn’t that amazing?! You can quote me if you like.

All this craziness has reminded me of the roof that we had when I was 8. I’ll have to save that for its own post, but here’s a hint: Happy penguins were involved.

I gotta go now! I have so much surfing to catch up on!

Love, Me

So there you go. Go and check out the rest of Steph at RCD's Blog Libs post for other people's versions.

I'm a Good Customer (in More Ways Than One)

Yep! It is THAT time!

Yesterday on the twitter I promised @weightwhat that if she put up an LIF post I'd share how I terrorize stock boys now that the stores near my house no longer play music. She has today, graced us with a repost. Technically, that means I should be sticking out my tongue and posting a repost, too, because I am mature like that, but I did not stipulate any qualifications to my wondrous new LIF post besides posting the LIF blog carnival today. I should have known Wendy would play a trick on me!

Before I left for the grocery store last Wednesday, my husband asked me to get him some new razor blades. He told me to get Mach 3.

"Anything else I should know?" I asked him.

"No. Just Mach 3" was his response.

So I went to Dominick's (Perhaps they call it "Safeway" in your stretch of the highway) and loaded up my cart with stuff. I'm in the lane labeled "shaving needs". A stock boy is a few feet away working with the shaving cream, when I see that they have "Mach 3" and "Mach 3 Turbo". I know that Bob said "just Mach 3", but I'd hate to have to come back for new ones, much less the trying to get a refund for the ones I bought by mistake. So I decide to take out my dusty old cell phone with the prepaid minutes and give him a call.

Now, my old purse had a separate phone section on the outside of it, but the strap broke a couple of weeks ago, so I bought myself an inexpensive interim purse that happens to have no outside pockets. I reach into my purse and take out the cell phone and call Bob.

Bob: What's up, Helen?

HRM: Hi hon! I see they have "Mach 3 Turbo" and "Mach 3"

Bob: Just "Mach 3".

HRM: Thanks hon! Bye!

I click the phone and pick up the razors with the same hand. I place the phone in the middle of my purse and without thinking, I almost zip the purse with the razors inside! When I realize what I am doing, I scream "NO! NO! NO!" and flip the razors out of my purse, several feet in the air, and bat it into the back of my cart on its way down.

And what does the stock boy a few feet away from me do. He looks straight ahead of himself, turns in the other direction, and starts work in another aisle. If I see him this week, I intend to say to him

"About last week Wednesday.... it was me, and not you in the least. Really..."

Now, to find out how I freaked out the butcher last week, Wendy will have to write a NEW Life is Funny post next week...

Introducing Myself to My New Pastor

And now it is time for another Pleasantly Disturbed Thursday.

We have a new pastor at my Church now. He seems like a very nice priest. It's not easy being new though. Especially when you don't know the crazy parishioners from the sane ones. Now, if I was new, I would easily be put in the sane category, because I am quiet when I am in a new situation. But when someone else is introduced into a new situation, I desperately try to make them more comfortable. Unfortunately for them, that means opening up the whole box of crazy on them at once. I introduced myself to the new pastor when I was volunteering for something on Saturday afternoon. The next day was the "Meet and Greet" where we would all have cookies and coffee in the back of Church after every Mass and introduce ourselves. Yep. All 2000+ of us in one day. So when I told him my name on Saturday, I told him that I'd give him a pop quiz the next day at the meet and greet. He turned absolutely pale and his face fell. I laughed my breaking stained glass windows laugh, and told him I was only kidding, the quiz wouldn't be until next week. The next day, at the meet and greet, there were name tags. Coincidence?I also told him I saw him at Fr. O's 50th Jubilee Celebration, but that I thought that with seeing former parishioners from his old parish, meeting new people would be overwhelming. He agreed. I then told him that I was more tempted to pretend I was a former parishioner and ask if he remembered me than I was to introduce myself. Then I rattled more stained glass with my laughter as one of my friends playfully hit me and said "You're so bad...".My intention really was to make him feel welcome and like he was already part of things. I have a feeling that instead I just helped him sort the sheep from the goats. Naaaaahhhhhh....Naahhhhh.....
I feel like today's Pleasantly Disturbed post also works well for a Life is Funny post.
Join Wendy's blog carnival. Join DS's blog carnival. Join carnivals! Just don't come dressed as a clown. You'll scare @katdish.

Better to Laugh Than to Cry

The subject of this week's one word blog carnival is laughter.

My mother used to say it is better to laugh than to cry. In theory, I agree with her, but I have often laughed so hard that I ended up crying. That works for me, too.

Momma used to say that when I would tease her about some minor thing that she did that I found annoying. Then I'd feel guilty for teasing her and she'd say "Oh Helen, I'd rather you laugh about it than cry about it! It is better to laugh than to cry..."

Lately though, I have found that I can laugh at the annoying things I do as well. My friend Wendy does a blog carnival every week called Life is Funny.

I admit, I don't participate by writing a post each week, but even when I decide that I'm not ready to share something ridiculous I did, or that I don't have time to type it (read that as "too busy reading and commenting on other blogs to update my own"), I think about how my life is funny, and it usually is because of my own foibles.

I could cry for all the times I laughed and teased my mom for making me wear sunscreen, and now I keep a spare in my glove compartment "just in case". But I choose to laugh.

I could cry for all the times I teased mom about wearing a big straw hat, and I now have three. But I choose to laugh.

I could cry for all the times I teased mom about making me take a sweater "just in case" and how I never had one when I needed it because they are all in the car "just in case". Now I keep a shawl draped over the passenger seat instead. But I choose to laugh.

I could cry for all the times mom insisted I drink a cup of tea with my meal because it would digest my food better better, and I insisted I did not like tea. Since she died, I have been drinking up her tea from my cupboards, and find that I just needed to give tea a chance. But I choose to laugh.

Why do I laugh? Do I find joy in my foibles? No. But I do find joy in knowing my mom understood me, forgave me and loved me. I feel joy that God forgives me and loves me. I feel joy that I can share my foibles with you and find that you, my brothers and sisters, will forgive me and love me.

My dad used to like to tell jokes that taught a lesson. Maybe I also feel joy that I am allowed the privilege of learning from my mistakes. So I laugh...

Consider joining my friend Wendy's Life is Funny blog carnival. I find it a great opportunity to reflect on reflect on my foibles, laugh at them, and learn from them. (And yes, sometimes I share jokes that have taught me a lesson or two... Or a video that has nothing to do with my life. I'm imperfect here as well as in real life. Go figure...)

Sunscreen Application 101

Modeling.... No, not with clay. Not in a swimsuit either (really, it's like you don't know me at all! ;-) I mean the sort you do with kids. Sometimes you do it without even meaning to....

I was running late for work and forgot to put on sunscreen before leaving the house. Luckily I have a bottle stashed in the car in case that happens. So I hurriedly put some on my arms and face while in the parking lot, and entered the school to use the bathroom. (We take the children outside to play. I normally don't wear sunscreen indoors.)

I come down the stairs, and this sweet little three year old who has been in my class sees me. She does not speak much English, and I don't speak much Spanish, but we managed to communicate for the last six weeks. She points to my face, and says something in Spanish. I knew I just put lotion on in a hurry, and started rubbing my face...

She says "No..." and then twitches her index finger for me to come closer like I do to her when telling her "Millie, come here...". I bend close to her, and she proceeds to then rub the sun lotion into my face for me.

So cute..... I know. How pathetic does a 40 year old woman have to be in order for a three year old to adjust her face for her.... Still, it was very cute, and a very precious memory.

How about joining Wendy in her Life is Funny blog carnival. One of the things I really love about it is how it helps me find the funny in my life.

Quid Pro Quo

I haven't been posting much (like, AT ALL) since I started a summer job. I am teaching summer camp / school for ages 3-7. I'll let you all know how it is going when I've spent a little more time with the kids.

I do, however, want to share a funny little story.

On Saturday Janice turned four. When one of the teacher's told me this on Friday, I congratulated her.

HRM: WOW! Four years old! Soon you are going to be older than me!

Janice nods.

HRM: When you are older than I am, will you read picture books to me like I am to you?

Janice nods again.

So there you have it: my attempt at scintillating conversation with a three (VERY soon to be four) year old, and her promise to read to me when I'm younger than her. I plan on holding her to her promise, too! ;-)

Thank God I Forgot My Nightie at Home (Oh Yeah, and That No One Got Hurt)

I had a great time at Pirate Fest over the weekend, even though Murphy’s Law (no relation to Sherri, I’m sure) prevailed. First of all, Bob’s digital camera wouldn’t work. It claimed memory was full, even though he had downloaded the old pics. He thinks he may need a new memory card. We bought a couple of disposable cameras, and I will publish some pictures on my blog in the future.

Then we realized we left the sunscreen in the car. We parked really far away, and figured it was cloudy and rainy enough to not get burned. Guess what. We got a couple of hours of sunshine, just enough to cause my arms and face to burn enough for me to feel it.

The fireworks started late because it was raining, which meant we got to the hotel very late, very tired, and very sore. We had reserved a nonsmoking room (extra charge, but I’m grateful we spent the money) on the third floor with a king size bed. I have no idea how we ended up with a room with two twin beds, but Bob and I both agreed that it was only one night, and we’d just deal with it.

So then I open my bag to get out my muumuu, and find that I must have accidentally taken it out when I removed my bathing suit because I realized I wouldn’t have any time for the pool, so taking the suit would be a waste of space. But since I had fresh clothes packed to wear the next day, I decided there was no harm in going to sleep in the clothes I had been wearing all day. I decided it was a blessing in disguise, as I was too tired and sore to undress anyways.

I asked Bob to hand me my medicine. Silly me. I thought that since I handed him the bottle and told him to pack it with his meds, he’d have it. He had no recollection of said conversation and thus, he did not have my meds. To his credit, he offered to drive the two hours each way to go get it. I said that it made more sense for me to just take it late on Sunday than for him to drive four hours.

Then Bob plugs in his CPap machine. Beep….Beep….Beep…. Apparently the memory card was full. He removed the memory card, and at about 11:30, I had a quiet room to try and sleep in. Too bad I was sore and did not have Aleve with me. Turning to try to get comfortable was excruciating.

Several hours later, at four in the morning to be exact, BEEP..BEEP...BEEP… is filling the room. It is the loudest sound I ever heard in my life. I call out “WHUUU?” because I am too tired to pronounce the “t” at the end of the word “what”. My husband starts checking the CPap machine.

After about 20 seconds I scream “UNPLUG IT ALREADY! WE’RE WAKING UP THE WHOLE FLOOR!”

My husband calls out “IT IS UNPLUGGED!”

Did I forget to mention that today's post is only Part 1 of my nightie story? Ooops! Click above to see Wendy's blog carnival Life is Funny. Consider joining the fun and write your own LIF post! C'mon! What if I hold the next part of the story hostage? No conclusion to this story until Wendy gets four people (that is three others besides me) linking to her LIF blog carnival! Hah! C'mon and participate! Don't you want to know if I made it out of the hotel room alive?

A Sugarplum or Angelcake by Any Other Name...

Wendy is back with her life is funny blog carnival. You should really click on the link below and check her post out. Then you should write a Life is Funny post of your own and join the carnival!

How is my life funny lately? Hmmm.... This happened a couple of weeks ago, but I am still amused by it.

I was in the kitchen helping to set up for a Church luncheon. An older woman who could not remember my name (nor I hers) was also in there. She'd ask me to pass her something, but not knowing my name, she kept calling me dear. No big deal to me: I have been called other things. Then she says to me so sadly "I hope you don't mind that I keep calling you "Dear". I know it hurts some people's feelings, but I just don't remember names anymore?"

My sweet, sensitive reply? "It's okay. I don't remember your name either, Angelcake!"

She laughed, and starting calling me "Sugarplum". So that is our names for each other now. Yes. She DOES remember how I became "Sugarplum" and she became "Angelcake".

Where's the funny?

Picture this at another Church Social...

AC: Hi Sugarplum! How are you doing?

Me: I'm great, Angelcake! How are you?

(insert minor chit chat that isn't funny or revelant to this post)

AC: So so... Well, see you in Church, Sugarplum.

Me: Take care of yourself, Angelcake.

Bob: Who was that?

Me: I dunno, some lady at Church....

Yep. My hubby gets no explanation about this incident (which, knowing him, he probably forgot) unless he chooses to read this post. Nyah nyah...

Knockoff Marshmallow Bunny Peeps: Is the Savings REALLY Worth It?

Warning!!! The following may not be appropriate for younger and more sensitive internet users!!!!

Appropriate Marshmallow Bunny Peeps to pass out to fourth grade Religion class...

Inappropriate bunny peeps to pass out to fourth grade Religion Class...

Why inappropriate? Take a look at just one....
See?

IT'S A BOY!!!

I went to K-Mart with a friend on Friday. I had already bought half price candy for my class at Walgreens and Osco, and didn't get marshmallow peeps because I don't like them. But my friend Eve does, and she talked me into it on Friday. So I grabbed four packages so each kid could have two, and we got in line. (She got pens, and I was also getting the most adorable yellow place mats that look like doilies, but are actually plastic...) It was when she was in line before me that I noticed ONE package of peeps that looked inappropriate. I asked her if she saw what I saw. I reminded her they are in fourth grade (she is a teacher, too). She said "Yep. Better exchange them!" Since I didn't want Peeps with peni, I decided to go run and find a new package. (I know... TWSS) I glanced at the other boxes before going, but they looked okay at the time.

I kept a line of people waiting while I selected an appropriate package. There were lots of inappropriate bunnies... I felt so lucky to have only picked one pack of bad bunnies...

In the car, I joked with Eve that I should have bought that pack as well so that I could have written a blog post about it. She rolled her eyes. She does NOT read my blog... And yes, we are still friends...

Anyways, the next day, I am ready to pack them in my case and take them with me when I find that they suddenly developed! Okay. They were probably like that when I bought them, and I didn't notice it...

Leave it to me to buy p*rn*grafic bunny beeps for a Religious Education class with nine year olds!

Join my friends in the Life is Funny blog carnival. P*rn*grafic peeps not required.

a href="http://weightwhat.blogspot.com/">

Does the Government Also Know That I am Growing Prematurely Grey

I am sorry I am late with my Life is Funny Post. It's a good thing Wendy is flexible. TWSS.

On Monday I went to Walgreens to buy Easter candy that was 50% off for this Saturday's CCD class. Our last class was three weeks ago. It was way too early for an Easter party, and if I am going to give the candy a week later, isn't it reasonable that I take advantage of the discount? I picked Reese's bunnies, chocolate eggs, and some weird Brach's candy I never saw before, but was quite reasonably priced.

Then I got in line, and noticed that a new cashier had been hired. AHhhhhh!!! A newbie.... (rubbing my hands together and laughing maniacally now...)

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do, but I new an opportunity to be odd would present itself. I was not disappointed! You know how the computer spits out coupons for random things at the end of a purchase? Well, at the end of my candy (and ONLY candy) purchase, I got a coupon with my receipt for Clairol hair coloring.

Helenatrandom: Boy, BIG BROTHER is truly here, isn't it?

Cashier: Huh?

Helenatrandom: You're computer just told me I need a dye job! I know the ladies at Church have been telling me that for months, but how does the Walgreens computer know that?

Cashier: Uuummmm....

Helenatrandom: Even my personal computer at home knows better than to get that personal!

Cashier: Well....

Unfortunately at this point the cashier stopped avoiding my eyes, looked straight into them, and then laughed. I don't know what it is about my eyes. They always give me away. Always.

Not hysterically, funny, but kinda sorta, no?

For more funny, click on the button, and check out Wendy's Life is Funny Blog Carnival. Maybe even consider participating.

I'm Not Particularly Nice, But I Am Funny...

I know. I seem so sweet in cyberspace.... I am a bit reluctant to share my Life is Funny story today. I don't mind laughing at my clumsiness, silliness, oddness, and a bunch of other stuff. But today the only thing I can bring to mind is the time I was really mean to someone at Church. And yes. I still laugh about it. This is not one of my bright and shining moments.

Anyway, I think I vaguely mentioned a while back that during college I was involved on the fringes of a cult. I went to my childhood Church on Sunday mornings, and to the other one on Sunday afternoons. Well, this young man at the Sunday afternoon Church was constantly talking down to me and a couple of my good friends.

He'd say things like "are those glasses that tint in the light for prescription, or just because you think it makes you look cool. You know, God doesn't want you to be concerned about appearances..." Not a Sunday went by where Jack didn't say something preachy like this to my friends or me.

Well, one day he delivers a message to someone at our campus Bible House. (Don't ask. Just. Don't. Ask.) I was studying scripture with my friend Dave. Jack comes up to us, and starts telling us this joke without a punch line. It was the joke that wouldn't end.

A woman goes into a restaurant and orders vanilla vegetables with her meal. When she can't have that, she wants to skip the meal for spinach ice cream. The joke did not make any sense, and he would go back and forth, because when she was told she couldn't have spinach ice cream, she was back to trying to order a meal with vanilla vegetables.

Dave and I just stared at Jack with our mouths open. Finally Jack had to leave. When we heard the outside door close, we just looked at each other, and went hysterical. The look on Dave's face was so funny, and I imagine the look on mine wasn't exactly stunning, but stunned. We had tears rolling down our faces...

Unfortunately, Jack left something in the Bible House, and he comes back in to find Dave and I both laughing so hard we are crying. Jack asks us what is so funny.

Not having the heart to tell him we are laughing at how stunned the other is by the stupidity of his joke, I look at him and say "VANILLA VEGETABLES!!!!! BWAHAHAHHAHHA!" as if I first got the joke after he left. That only made Dave laugh all the harder, especially since Jack not only believed we first got the joke, but was laughing, too "I know, right! Vanilla vegetables!"

Now, if the story ended here, I'm not sure it would make me so bad. I laughed at someone when I shouldn't have and covered it up when he caught us. It's not the worst thing I've done. Even though I was still laughing, I suspect I didn't tell him why we were laughing because I was ashamed in the first place.

However, remember how I said Jack had a tendency to act pompously during the fellowship after service? Well, every time Jack behaved pompously after that, I'd choose an elder in my head, and say to him "Do you know who hasn't heard your vanilla vegetable joke...." and take him by the arm to that particular Church leader. If I had quit one week later, I'd have had to walk him over to the pastor himself. (This Church had a lot of leaders....)

So, how is your life funny?

Wild Card Party

Last week my husband and I visited his Uncle Burt (name changed to protect the innocent) in the nursing home. I love Uncle Burt. He is 92 years old, and his mind is still pretty sharp, though his body is wearing out. We try to visit him at least once a month. Sometimes we do better, and sometimes worse, but we always have a good time when we see him.

As a matter of fact, we have a recurring joke. Whenever I meet a new nurse of nurse's aide taking care of him, I introduce myself as "Uncle Burt's favorite niece." This is funny on many levels, the first being that I am actually a niece through marriage. My husband Bob is actually his nephew by blood. The other funny thing about the introduction is that Uncle Burt had only one sibling, who had only one child: Bob. His late wife's sisters did not have any children. So not only am I not his niece by blood, but he doesn't have any other nieces either by blood or through marriage. Uncle Burt chuckles and nods every time I do this. If Bob is with me, I introduce him as my husband. Bob then asks "So if you get Uncle Bill, which of your relatives do I get in exchange?"

Still, it is difficult to have a conversation for a long period of time with a person who is in a Nursing Home. His body is weary, and he has a heart condition. We don't want to upset him, so talking about the news is out of the question. We ask him how his grandchildren are, and he is proud to tell us. He also tells about some of the art projects he works on. I might mention books I am reading, or how my tomato seeds for my garden are growing. But after about half an hour, it is hard to think of what to say. While that was true even with my mom, it seemed like sitting with her while she watched t.v. and I read seemed a lot more natural than with Uncle Burt.

Luckily for us, his daughter keeps a deck of cards for him in one of his drawers. This works out nicely, because we can play cards for a couple of hours, and conversation that comes slowly is just fine during a friendly card game. We do keep it friendly. We don't play for money, not even pennies. The game proves entertaining in more ways than one.

Uncle Burt likes a game called "Deuces Wild". The first time we played it, I had suggested "Gin Rummy" and Uncle Burt agreed. However, he was playing "Deuces Wild". I did not realize it at the time. I just thought that the 90 year old man cheats. I was okay with that. If winning was that important to him, I was more than happy to oblige. But one day we visited him while he was in a basement playing "Deuces Wild" with four other people, and as I watched, I realized that was what he plays when we play "Gin Rummy".

You'd think that this discovery would even out the playing field, wouldn't you? It doesn't. I don't know all the rules for "Deuces Wild" and neither does Bob. If we ask Uncle Bill if something is right, he shrugs and says he doesn't remember, and not to worry about it, he'll allow for it. It seems that the three of us are playing some mixed up card game where we are all following different rules. But it all works out for us in the end: Uncle Burt usually wins.



Click on the above link to check out my friend Wendy's Life is Funny blog carnival. If you have a blog, consider joining the party. This week she is serving cookies... ;-)

You Might Not Want to Kiss Me Hello....

You are in luck! Not only is it time for me to post another Life is Funny post, but it is about something that happened this weekend.
Saturday morning I was invited to a friend's house for breakfast. Another friend of mine was picking me up. Before she came over, I wanted to clean the bathroom a bit. Well, I didn't realize that I had run out of toilet bowl cleaner when I cleaned the bathroom last week. I probably realized at the time that I used it up, since I threw the bottle away. But I forgot about that until Saturday morning.
I remembered that a while back I read that leaving a cap full of mouthwash in the bowl for half an hour, closing the lid, then swishing did nicely in a pinch. I was desperate. I have always felt that the most important rooms to have clean for company were the kitchen and the bathroom. That way a friend should not feel ill at ease to eat or pee in your house. It is most inhospitable to not provide for either possibility.
Half an hour after pouring the mouthwash in the toilet, I swish the toilet brush around in the greenish yellow water, and have the cleanest toilet bowl I have ever seen in my life!!! How is this funny? Well, now I'm worried about what I have been gargling with all these years! Now I'm afraid to gargle with the stuff, but am ashamed at the prospect of having my toilet bowl smell better than my breath!
I may switch to breath mints... But only after I have placed a few in my toilet tank and made sure it doesn't clean it....


How about writing your own Life is Funny post, and linking it up at my friend Wendy's blog!

Just Call Me Lady Einstein

Well, today I am going to take part in the first Life is Funny post that I have done in a while. It is still a bit hard to find the funny in my life right now, so I am going to go back in time a couple of months, when Momma was still in the hospital.

Momma had been in three different rooms in that hospital. That was because she was switched from different floors for different reasons. None of those rooms were set up the same way. The last room she was in there was set up rather oddly. You could not see the patient from the doorway, nor could the patient see anyone in the hallway. I probably should have asked for her to have a different room, but I was afraid to be difficult about the small stuff. I had no trouble being demanding when I saw that they did not give her the right nutritional supplements at meal times (she was taken Juven™ for wound healing, and sometimes the dietician forgot to send it), or demanding they call the doctor when she hallucinated, but I figured that this wasn't a hotel: room changes were up to them, not me. Besides, she was of sound mind (except for that ONE day...) and could make the request herself if it bothered her.

One thing I did point out to her is that her window reflected the hallway, so she could see if someone was outside her doorway and call out to them if need be. She had a call light, but you know how easy it is to misplace it.... You don't? Fine. Sometimes a CNA comes in to do something for her, and will FORGET to give the patient a call light. This is upsetting to a patient who can't get out of bed. A couple of times though, mom had the phone, and she'd call me that she needed something. I would then call the Nurse's Station on her floor and say "My mom needs her call light. Someone forgot to give it back to her again." I only had to do that three times. It seems they figured out the problem after a while...

Anyhow, this has all just been the set up for the funny part. The funny part comes one day after I'd been there a long time, and was very tired. I was next to mom facing the window with my back completely toward the doorway. I look at the reflection in the window and see my mom's infectious disease doctor.

Me: (in a tired, sing songy voice) Good evening Dr. McIntosh. I hope you are seeing some improvement .....
Dr.: (wide eyed and spooked) That was eery!
Me: What? Not bad news I hope....
Dr.: No, you. How did you know it was me?
Me: I saw you Dr. McIntosh.
Dr.: (Really spooked) How could you...... Your back was completely....You can't see from....
Me: (exasperated) The window, Doc. I saw your reflection in the window!


It was the first time I saw him smile the whole time mom was there. But not the last.

He was able to cure her infection, and she went on to Skilled Nursing Care for her wound. He was a good doctor, even if he couldn't recognize his own reflection. Hey, I hear Einstein had to look up his phone number in the telephone book when asked for his number. Which means I have a lot in common with Einstein. I don't know my cell phone number by heart. If you want it, I have to call you, and you need to use Caller Id. Just call me Lady Einstein...



How about you? You have any funny stories about when you or someone else was a real Einstein? How about sharing on your blog, and participating in the above blog carnival?

Turn at the Fork in the Road!

Though it came out in 1979, I first saw "The Muppet Movie" in 1987 at a friend's house. She had this thing called OnTv, which was like cable, but not. Yeah, I don't get it either, but this system made it possible to get a channel with movies not shown on broadcast television for a fee. This was the first time I saw "The Muppet Movie", and I thought it was hysterical. My favorite line was "Turn at the fork in the road."



Now, fast forward one year later. I am working with my dad cleaning in a medical building. (I may or may not have mentioned that I worked while I went to a Commuter College. I also worked at McDonald's, a daycare center, and the School Library, but not all at the same time.) Well, our usual route to work is closed because of road construction, and my Dad is concerned that we will be late. We are driving on Peterson Avenue, and we need to turn on California, but not being familiar with this street, he is afraid he will miss the street and keep going. I tell my dad "No worries Daddy, just turn left at the fork in the road..."

This is a picture of the outside of the restaurant that was and is on the corner of Peterson and California.


My dad loved the joke, and from then on it became our usual route to work, and our usual joke.


Now, how about writing your own post on how your life is funny, and link it up to the blog carnival over at Wendy's?

I Think She Will Be Making a Full Recovery....

Okay. We will start at the beginning. Well, not the beginning, but a good deal earlier than the funny part.

On Monday mom's portocath wasn't working, and she needed to have two IVs going at the same time. Her veins have been popping, and they were having a hard time finding good veins with which to work, so the nurse ended up having to put the IVs with the needle between her thumb and her index finger. No, it is not funny yet. She couldn't grab anything! I had to feed her so she could eat without jerking the needle. No, it still isn't funny. I'm not cruel...

Before I left, I asked the nurse to make an annotation on her chart that an aid should come in and ask her if she needed to be fed. I figured she might be able to handle some herself, and even if she isn't, at least to let her voice her needs rather than feel totally helpless. The nurse informed me that they always ask. I insisted she write it on her chart because mom has been capable of feeding herself all this time, and if things get too busy, it is easy to take past history for granted. (Please believe me. I usually don't get all bossy with the nurses, but this is the one who failed to call my mom's doctor last week after she'd been hallucinating from her pain meds all night. SHE needs instruction...)

Well, yesterday I walk into her room about ten minutes after lunch started (food service brought the trays a wee bit early) and I find my mom, who had been eating only about half of her food for weeks, having finished everything but desert. A young man with dark hair and a mustache was feeding her ice cream. Here is the funny part. SHE DID NOT HAVE ANY NEEDLES IN EITHER HAND! The portcath was working, and she didn't need the other IV any more. The young man informed me she had eaten all her breakfast as well. I thanked him, and offered to finish feeding her desert. When he left, I handed the ice cream to her, and she fed herself.

I asked her why she didn't just tell him she could feed herself.

Mom: I'm not crazy. He's cute! How often am I going to have the opportunity to be hand fed by a handsome man?
Helen: And your sudden improvement in appetite?
Mom: Once I'm done eating, no more handsome man....

I stayed to make sure she could feed herself at dinner. She could, but she did not eat all of her Macaroni and Hamburger. I even offered to feed her myself. No go. What do you think? Do I need to dye my hair black, and stop tweezing my upper lip?




I know... Two life is funny posts in one week!! Good for us!