Rainy Days and Mondays

They weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow, but that Mom o’ mine is like a horse.  No, she doesn’t have disturbingly large nostrils and front teeth…much.  Once she smells the barn there’s just no keeping her away.

Also, I may or may not have worn them the fuck out.  Mom’s seventy year old knees do not take kindly to having three flights of stairs between them and any potential outing.  All her aches coupled with the gray mist that rained out our planned boat trip around Manhattan apparently smells just like barn.  And so they are Virginia bound at this very moment.


Speaking of Virginia, saunter over to Craftastrophe and check out the commemorative plate I found to celebrate their long drive back to their home state.  You’ll want to move fast.  I’m quite sure these plates sell faster than the hot cakes that you can’t serve on them.

These conversations can’t possibly be as funny to the rest of the world as they are to my sick ass.  Yet I still insist on sharing them, don’t I?  Poor Mom thinks all my notes are safe in the bottom of her suitcase and rapidly barreling down Interstate 81, never to be recounted on the Interwebz.  Too bad her husband ratted her out and showed me where she stashed them.  (Yay Dad!)  And with that, here’s a few snippets of conversation from the weekend.

Mom:  There’s nothing better than ice cream.

Rocco:  Sex?

Me:  Cheesecake?

Thom:  Hummers?

Mom:  I don’t have it every night anymore…

Rocco:  Sex?

Me:  Cheesecake?

Thom:  Hummers?

Mom:  Yes.

Mom:  I was really drunk on wine once.  That brother Chuck of mine told me to drink a glass of milk.  I thought I would vomit my head off.

Rocco:  How old were you?  Sixty?

Me:  I can’t believe that cat just jumps right in your lap, especially since you hate cats so much.

Thom:  Then she shows me her probing end.

Rocco:  Lick your finger first.

Thom:  I’m sure not going to lick it after.

Mom:  She was actually biting me a little this morning.

Thom:  Did you put peanut butter on your hoo hoo?

Now I’m going to go hide under my comforter and mope for the rest of today.  I’ll leave you with the perfect song for the day.


  1. oh my God, I love the conversations that go on in your house! I am going to have “Sex, cheesecake, hummers?” going around and around in my brain now, and eventually will use it to answer my husband. Not sure what kind of question it will answer correctly though!

    you could have cheesecake sex IN a hummer, couldn’t you.
    .-= pixielation´s last blog ..Banged up in Munich for being English. Probably. =-.

  2. OMG. Maybe I need to try these tactics with my in-laws, because even though our multiple flights of stairs threaten their weight-burdened knees with replacements, they always seem to come for loooong visits.
    .-= Carrie Meadows´s last blog ..Zesty Feta Dip =-.

  3. See, now I feel a sense of loss.
    I’ll go over to craftastrophe and hope this new item doesn’t inspire the kind of vivid nightmares the zombified children did.
    .-= Kelly´s last blog ..Pre Cana Insane =-.

  4. I love your Mum and Dad, they are ultracool… the worst thing about all the excitement is the leaving a?? I’m gearing myself up for that situation very shortly… although my Mum hasn’t made it here in nearly three years. Bitch ;0)
    .-= Eternally Distracted´s last blog ..Ooooo hose me down! =-.

  5. Can we have a sitcom based on your family? No, STARRING your family. You are a looker. Let’s not even be humble about it. So I am pretty sure all of your family members look good on TV too.
    .-= subWOW´s last blog ..On the road =-.

Comments are closed.