Raise your hand if you're wondering how my hub took the blow.
The blow about the Utah cops sneaking into my room at night to watch me sleep.
He took it remarkably well, all things considered. I had to do some fancy wordsmithing, but he didn't file for divorce.
"Honey, remember how you always used to dream about fast cars and fast women?" I told him. "Well guess what! You're living your dream!"
And I'm living proof that the universe works in mysterious ways.
Yesterday when that lady cop pulled me over she asked me if I was in a hurry.
"Is anyone in a hurry at 30 mph?" I said.
She gave me an attitudinal adjustment. In the form of a ticket. Then she told me to be safe. And have a nice day.
I told her I was on my way to the doctor for my annual check-up, of which I haven't had in nine annuals. "Is that being safe enough for you?" I said.
On my way to the doctor I saw a boy I kissed in college at the stop sign. He smiled and let me turn in front of him.
I didn't even feel a flutter.
Okay, that's a lie. He didn't smile. I don't think he felt a flutter either. I don't even think he felt a glimmer of recognition. (But then I had really big hair in college.)
It was the first time I've gone to the doctor here in Utah so I was nervous. It was also the first time I've had a "complete" physical (if you get my drift) since I had my twins, so I was extra nervous. I get kinda weird when I'm extra nervous.
My new doctor was recommended to us by my old doctor in Hawaii so I thought that might be a nice conversation starter as I laid there getting everything sampled and drawn and smeared.
"So how do you know Doc N?" I asked.
"I was his little league coach," he replied.
"Oh." I said. "That's neat." (Neat? Who says neat anymore?)
"Ironically Doc N. gave me my first pap in Hawaii," I told him.
"And you're giving me my first pap in Utah."
Still more silence.
"Ain't life funny like that," I continued, my eyes on the ceiling. "I bet that thought never occurred to you while you were coaching Doc N. in little league."
"What thought?" He said.
"The thought that the two of you would give the same girl a pap--twenty years apart."
Screeeeeech! Can someone please smack me!
But fer reals, I was nervous and I had all sorts of questions going through my brain. Like, what if I have cancer. I DON'T WANNA DIE YET! At least not before I clean my bathrooms.
And what if Lulu is off somewhere getting herself knocked up with the neighbors Bassett Hound? I don't think Bassett Retrievers would sell very well, do you? Yes, Lulu's in heat, And YES, I've been wondering why they don't make doggy kotex.
Other things I fretted about as I laid there all vulnerable-like: I hope the bishop doesn't figure out I'm overqualified to be the YW prez. I really really like all the other leader ladies. And the girlz are okay too. I kinda lub hanging out with them. Right now the girlz are planning the entire Young Women in Excellence so last night we met with the class presidencies to help them make sashes. Each girl's parents had to come up with one word to describe their daughter and then we wrote the word in glitter across the sash.
I had a heck-of-a-time coming up with one word to describe my daughter. So I wrote a list and took it to her for approval.
"Refined," I said.
"Oooh, that sounds like an old lady word!" she said.
"Okay, hows about Genuine? or Authentic? Or Too-Legit-to-Quit?"
"Mom! I don't want to know what word you're picking!"
"MOM! Just pick a freakin' word! But don't tell me what it is!"
I ended up chosing Brat.
(Mwuahahahaha.) (That evil mad scientist laugh is so yesterday, isn't it!)
So, now it's time for a commercial break.
The following message is a paid advertisement for Sam-E Complete and the Crash Test Dummy. Brought to you by The Little Train That Could:
A few days ago my daughter turned 16 and started looking for a job.
"OOOH, OOOH, OOOH, pick Smoothie King," I told her. I LUB Smoothie King. Even more than Jamba Juice. So while she was applying on-line we came across this other job for what is called the Good Mood Blogger. The gig is for Sam-E and entails blogging every weekday for 6 months about what makes you smile.
"I CAN DO THAT!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, because seriously, what doesn't make me smile, right? I got super excited about it and started telling my kids "I WANT THIS JOB. I have to win this job!" over and over.
But then I got kinda shy about it because it's a popularity contest and I hate popularity contests.
I almost gave up the idea, but then my fourteen-year-old son said "MOM, you have to try. You're always telling us we can do/be/get anything we want if we try hard enough."
"But someone already has 2,000 votes," I said. "I can't beat that."
He thought for a minute. "Well, you can make an announcement in Young Women on Sunday," he said. "And I can tell all my friends. And we can call all the family. And what about your blog and Facebook!"
"But that would be like campaigning and I hate campaigning. What if nobody votes for me and I look like a loser?"
That's when my youngest twin (by 1 minute) piped up.
"Those who have never failed have never tried anything new. Albert Einstein."
Oh golly, he got me there. So I'm trying it. For my kids. (And for the $$$$.) But mostly so my kids don't think I'm a hypocrite. (And for the $$$$.) (Fame and glory wouldn't be so bad either.)
So VOTE for me. And I promise there will be longer lunches and more recess. And no more homework.
See that link up there? Click on it. Every day. Until November 10th. PLEASE, please, pretty please. For the kids. (And the $$$$.) I need to get into the top 20 to make it to phase II--the video, and I'm at least 500 votes behind as we speak.
What are you waiting for? You can vote once a day, on every computer in your house. And at your office. And in your school computer lab. You can make up little slips of paper with the link and pass them out to all of the students you advise (Look to it Martha.) And you can force your students at gunpoint to vote for me for extra credit. (Look to it Miles and Keola and Lisa.)
Wow. I think I just overcome my fear of public speaking! YAY!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I think I can, I think I can . . .
Raise your hand if you're wondering how my hub took the blow.