Thursday, April 28, 2016

Hubs Needs More Vodka for This News

There's this thing that my husband's face does when I say things like "SURPRISE! You're getting a vasectomy tomorrow", or "I'm pregnant again", or "Hey, have I ever told you I have a cousin named Vodka?"

Yeah. So I just hit him with that last one. And he stood there at the sink half wondering if I was lying and half wondering how I haven't mentioned it AT ALL in you know...the THIRTEEN YEARS that we've been hanging out chatting about stuff. The thirteen years that he has grown to love these things in this order:

  1. Our children
  2. Me (I hope I'm here. I HOPE)
  3. VODKA
  4. His boat

Keeping this info from him and dropping it on him so suddenly may have just bumped me to the bottom.

What fun fact have you surprised your mate with?

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Stick a Fork in Me

Hubs was at the ice rink again tonight (shocker, I know). And all the time we've spent there got me thinking of the days I spent there, long before it was an ice rink, dreaming of the day I'd get married.

Of course, you know what I'm talking about. WAYYYY back when it was that store? You know, the one where you'd pick out your thing? The one thing on the shelf, and then you'd wait for the magical Keebler Elves behind the wall to shove it out onto the looooong conveyor that would wind around and you'd see your shit coming and you'd get all excited over your order.


Yeah. My friend NancyPants was a cashier there, apparently. Small world.

Shopping there for toys was a real treat. But the real magic was when I was tiny, and to distract me or make me stay put or whatever (?) my mom would hang a hard right just inside the front doors and there in the corner was a display to the ceiling...of silverware.

I'd park my ass there to pick out a pattern. You know, for one day when I could get married? It was only like one of thee biggest decisions of your life.

Some bullshit they've been selling us forever.

And however the hell old I was, I took that job seriously. We also weren't going to wait around on a wedding day for that flatware, no. Before BoxTops for Education, Betty Crocker had her own thing. You could cash in points for FREE shit. Boom.

So in our house, for who-knows-how-many years before I ACTUALLY got married, we had this:

It's a fork.

Yeah. One fork. But it was MY fork. And I used it. I'm pretty sure my mom still has it. And I'm sorry for all the stupid shit that we used to and continue to tell little girls about what is important in life.

And because now that I hang out in that building where the blades are on the bottom of ice skates, not in boxed gift sets of steak knives, I do it (usually) in shifts with a dude who I share dishwasher loading-and-unloading duties with, among other things. And we agree on a lot. First off, that our silverware SUCKS, and that there's things that he's good at and things I'm good at.

This is not a listicle. If it was, it would be called "27 Things My Husband Does Better Than Me, and Vice-Versa, You'll Be SHOCKED When You See What He Does With The Onion!"

And you'd have to click through each page and you'd accidentally click on a bunch of ads. But I'm not a jerk like that.

  1. Stuffing the pillowcase. Okay, so this is really more like tucking the excess pillow case. We have king pillow cases and these really annoying standard foam pillows that the Costco cashier said were THE BEST and I have hated them since day one. I must have been a hotel maid in my previous life because I just have a habit of easily wrangling the pillow in and tucking the excess fabric in on itself and the Hubs will stand there IN AWE trying to figure out how in the hell I do it. He cannot.
    Me stuffing the pillowcase. Easy. It practically stuffs itself.

    Hubs stuffing the pillowcase. RAWWWWR!
  2. Our social calendar. This is 100% Hubs. If you try to make plans with me, expect my eyes to glaze over.
  3. Medical appointment calendar: This is 90% me. I schedule all medical visits, but refuse to schedule dental appointments for my husband. Because I am not his mother.
  4. Lawncare. I trim three shrubs one time a year. This is known as the "one day I go outside". I think one of Hubs' coworkers was lucky enough to witness a sighting of this a few years back. Lucky. Probably won't happen again. I used to trim four shrubs one time a year but one of them died. Because I suck at keeping things alive. All other green (and other colored things) outdoors are his thing. He is excellent at it. People call him for advice.
  5. Knowing when we are out of aluminum foil: Him.
  6. Knowing when we are out of bleach: Me. All day. And we are always out because there is not enough bleach on the planet. Ever.
  7. Scrubbing toilets with a brush: Him.
  8. Scrubbing toilets with a pumice stone: Me.
  9. Operation of electronics: Him. All of it. Ask anyone to testify to his DJ skills. I can just barely turn on the TV. I'm like everyone's 84 year old aunt, visiting from out of town. Every day. Can't run the remote. He tries to make it easier for me by having one password for everything. Which I have to ask him ANY TIME I try logging into anything. And he gets annoyed that I forgot it. Again.
  10. Birthday cards for everyone in his family: Me. If you did not get a birthday card on one or more occasion, this is because I kind of suck at this too, but not nearly as bad as he does.
  11. Teaching the children mildly dangerous stunts: Him.
  12. Teaching the children mildly boring trivia: Me.
  13. Following recipes to include carefully measuring ingredients: Completely him. And he is completely annoyed that I totally eyeball everything I cook. Everything. I might use a measuring cup AS A SCOOPER, but that's about it. If a recipe calls for butter, I'm probably just going to use the whole stick. If you've seen him bust out his beaker collection for cocktails, well...
  14. Speaking of cocktails: Him. Expert mixologist. Me if you want like, a beer. Or a REAL clammy clam digger.
  15. Cleaning out the dryer's lint filter: Him.
  16. Cleaning out the washer's disgusting as hell water filter: Me.
  17. Squeegeeing the shower: Him.
  18. Yarding the hair out of the shower drain: Me. (It's mine, so this seems fair.)
There's like a million other things that we have divided and conquered over the past 13 years. More than that, I am so glad I am where I'm at today, looking back at some of the ludicrous expectations women have had in the past as a measure of happiness.

What is your spouse awesome at that you suck at? What flatware pattern did you dream of as a little girl?

Wednesday, April 20, 2016


People are losing their shit today. All over Target's Facebook page.

*I refuse to block out peoples' names or faces because well...they put that shit out on the interwebz so they must want everyone to know their position. 

This is partially because Target announced they could give two shits what's in a person's pants when they have to take a tinkle at their store. It's also probably partially because some asshole who likes to hear himself talk whose name rhymes with Flat Qualsh told all his followers to be pissed about it. I don't know. I'll be go to hell before I give that dick a click or link to his garbage ever.

This landed on my radar thanks to Ben and Nick of Hope that Helps , the Facebook page that infamously trolls entitled assholes complaining about (usually) first world problems.

They were nice enough to invite me backstage to scout around, but they're the ones with the public personas. I'm happy to get to see some of the best stuff that never goes public. It's so stupid. People are so stupid. I'm happy to relegate myself to the shitty grunt work, silently hoping from across the country that Ben might get a big break one day. Because I think he's funny. And because I think he's a good person. And when I find straight white guys who actively speak up about things like feminism and racism and homophobia and transphobia, I like to tuck them in my pocket like a tiny mouse.

Shout out to all the mouse dudes who are living in my pockets....please introduce yourselves and mingle while I finish up here.

So of course the HTH page has been BIZZAY today responding to all of the completely enraged people that are dunzo with Target, which is funny because they seem to be all the same people that said they were never stepping foot inside Target after the whole no-more-boy-or-girl-toy-aisle fiasco.


Anyway. I know that folks are sitting squarely on one side of this fence or the other. And for those who are scared of the El Molestario boogie monster? I get it. That fear has been instilled in children since the beginning of time. Mostly out of ignorance. Mostly out of our own inability to face the facts surrounding who the ACTUAL predators are. You REAL LIFE CRIME CASES.

I see your wall posts. The ones that say "confused people should have their own so we don't have to be around them".

Please. Before you get caught up in this ignorant hysteria. Stop. Realize that it's very likely that you either know someone or know someone who loves someone who IS TRANSGENDER.



And they will see your words and it will sting. It will sting in a way that you cannot imagine. It will push not only that person away that you fear "getting any on you", but it will also push people you love away, because they won't want to get any of your hateful emotions on them. Or on their children.

As for the House of Lee, it's not welcome, that. I am proud of my husband for a good many things, and while this is only loosely related*, one of the nicest things he has ever said about me was to one of his friends who made an off-color remark about "the gays":

"Dude. Do NOT bag on gay people around my wife. She might hate EVERYONE, but she fucking LOVES the gays."



*Disclaimer mostly for your education, not mine: Being transgender and being gay are completely separate things. Please educate yourself and engage in meaningful, supportive, forward-moving conversation.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Speaking ToddlerBandit: Snacks

ToddlerBandit has his own language and he expects you to be fluent in it. Here, to help guide you through one of the most critical periods in his day (snack time) in order that you may minimize the trauma inflicted upon yourself, is a list of things commonly requested demanded by our bite size ThirdKid, in no particular order of preference or indication that he will actually eat said item once his demands are met. If you are unfortunate enough to find yourself in charge of said child, I thank you in advance for your unselfish sacrifice to our family.