Tag Archives: humor

Mommy Doesn’t Pay Her Bills.

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Remember last week when our water got shut off because I forgot to pay the bill?

No?

Oh … it’s because I forgot to tell you. Well, our water got shut off because I have too much on my plate and can’t remember to pay anything on time. As soon as I realized what was happening, I called the water company, paid the bill plus a reconnect fee, and all was well. I feel like I have to clarify that I got the water turned back on, lest you believe that we’re living in squalor. But if this were real squalor, I wouldn’t have internet access, now would I?!

Oh, wait. I spoke too soon.

This morning it happened again, this time with our TV and internet. I tried to turn on Curious George for the kids and the message from AT&T popped up which said, basically, “Pay up, bitch.” I stood in the living room, terrified of the thought of life without TV or internet while my oldest child stood next to me and read the words on the screen.

“YOU FORGOT TO PAY THIS BILL, TOO?!” he gasped.

Yes. Yes, I did, because I have too much on my mind. I forgot because I am a wife to a very messy man and a mother of three little kids and I recently got serious about my writing because I’d like for it to become more than just a “hobby.” I forgot because I was too busy thinking about story ideas or emails I needed to send, and I heard splashing and didn’t know what it was and it turned out to be your little sister splashing in the toilet with both hands, with her mouth open. I forgot because you and your brother beat the ever-loving shit out of each other every time I leave the room. I forgot because bills are stupid and they are the opposite of fun.

My husband saved the day by paying the bill from his work computer, and all was right in the world once more.

A few hours later, we found ourselves at the pediatrician’s office for checkups. I love our pediatrician. She has three boys and doesn’t judge me or my children. She just gets it. Her office is new, and small enough for everyone to hear what is said if you bellow it loudly from the front desk, which would be good if, say, you needed an emergency tourniquet. But bad, if, for example, you’re me.

As we were getting ready to leave, I stopped at the front to ask the doctor and her husband (who also works there) what I needed to pay before we left. My exact words were, “Is there a bill?”

That is when Maverick said, in his very loud, bellowy voice, “MOMMY DOESN’T PAY HER BILLS.”

I tried to laugh it off, because thankfully I have a great relationship with our pediatrician, but I could feel my face reddening as he continued: “NO, REALLY. LAST WEEK OUR WATER GOT SHUT OFF AND TODAY THE TV GOT TURNED OFF. MOMMY REALLY DOESN’T PAY THE BILLS.

DON’T GIVE HER ONE.

SHE WON’T PAY IT.”

Yeah … so that happened. Let’s just go ahead and file this under Embarrassing Moments In Motherhood, and then strike it from memory.

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A Short List of Shortcomings.

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One thing starting a new year will do is make you realize your shortcomings, and I have a LOT of them. So, because I’m feeling benevolent, I thought I would put them on the internet so everyone else can feel better about themselves. You’re welcome.

I asked Robbie to help me think of things I am bad at, but he just kept shouting “IT’S A TRAP!!” and refusing to answer. So … that was helpful.

Things I Am Very Bad At:

1. Dieting. I like baby carrots, freshly-squeezed juices, and cous cous. But I also like Peanut M&M’s and extra sharp cheddar cheese. I don’t know what the answer is, but I do know that my mother-in-law brought over some Chewy Chips Ahoy Birthday Frosting Filled cookies this week and I can’t be trusted to be alone with them.

2. Remembering passwords or jokes.  Some people, like my Grandpa Tillerson, have a gift for remembering a joke and delivering the punchline. I can do neither of those things. I may have a vague recollection of “a funny joke about a horse,” but that’s all I can remember … which isn’t funny. It is also not funny to really need to access your alternate Gmail account and have to jump through 679 hoops to finally get in because you can’t seem to remember the password. I hate passwords. And secret codes. And special knocks and handshakes. JUST GET TO THE POINT.  JUST SAY HELLO IN PLAIN ENGLISH. I enjoy brevity.

3. Dealing with paperwork. I have approximately 5 tall stacks of papers around my house to show as evidence that I am not the best at dealing with it. I stack it neatly, sure, but then it gets stowed away so my house can be in order. Except that my paperwork (and life in general) is so not in order.

4. Sewing. I’m just bad at it.

5. Crafting. Because basically, I hate glitter. Also, see #4.

6. Cooking meat with bones in it. I’ve never done it. No, not even once. I also can’t eat a drumstick or whatever it is you cavemen people eat. NO THANK YOU. I’ll pass.

7. Being patient with people who take too long to get to the point, like children and sometimes my husband. Just tell me what you want and I’ll tell you if I can deliver it or not. Chances are, the answer is no.

This is in no way an exhaustive list — it’s just what I felt like telling you about. So yes, that totally means I left my worst bad qualities out.

Now if you’ll excuse me, these devil cookies are calling my name.

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THE DEVIL MADE THESE.

House Guest.

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Yesterday I had the pleasure of being the “House Guest” over at Housewife Plus, a blog written by a kindred spirit named Sarah. She lives in Maine, her husband builds boats, and she. is. hilarious.

Every Monday, Sarah hosts a House Guest and I was thrilled to hang out over there. She even used the word “y’all” to make me feel at home. Check it out here!

Like what you see? Don’t forget to follow her on Facebook and Twitter! She’s going to be famous one day and you’ll get to say you discovered her when. Just saying.

Googling.

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Robbie just found Maverick sitting on the bathroom counter, looking at his nose in the mirror.

Robbie: What are you doing?

Maverick: I’m Googling my nose.

Robbie: … Do you know what “Googling” means?

Maverick: Yeah! It means “to look up.”

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Open Letter Fail.

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I don’t know where to begin. 

I’m writing an open letter to a specific group of people and I am concerned it will come off like I think too highly of myself. I assure you, I do not ride a high horse. I can’t even ride a regular-sized horse. One time I tried to ride one at summer camp and he hated me so much he tried to scrape me off on a fence. So then our hatred became mutual.

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Image found at BluntCard.com

Back to the letter. Weird people, meaning the not fun weird, but truly weird-weird type, bother me. Sometimes after I encounter one, the only thing I can think of to do about it is simply to write them an open letter that they will never, ever read.

I forgot how outgoing the people are down here in the bayou. I quite like it, except when it’s in the form of unwelcome sexual advances and/or attempted pick-ups. Then I dislike it a LOT.  Especially if my children are with me. It’s one thing for a stranger to bother me when I’m alone, but usually one or both of my kids are present and staring with their big saucer eyes. That is what happened today and I am still so furious that I’m starting to sweat a little just typing this. 

Do I want my sons to grow up seeing their mama ignoring strange men who talk to her? That makes me feel like I’m just allowing something uncomfortable to happen to me. Should I scream obscenities at them instead? I don’t know what would be better. They need to know that women are to be respected. Obviously the people I’m writing to never learned that.

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Dear Strange and Unmannerly Man At The Gas Station,

If I gave you the impression that I am looking to take a ride to Slut Town because I’m dressed like a normal person who drives a normal car with two car seats in the back, I am sorry to have misled you.

No, I do not need a baby daddy. I have one already. His name is Husband. I find it strange that someone who is so persistent should be out looking for a girlfriend. Seems you’d have one already.

Now run along before I fucking run you over, you piece of shit.

Thank you,
Harmony