Friday afternoon brought the beginning of a weekend adventure.
We’re on our way,
We’re on our way,
On our way to Grandpa’s farm…
We hitched up our rented tent trailer and headed south.
Friday afternoon brought the beginning of a weekend adventure.
We’re on our way,
We’re on our way,
On our way to Grandpa’s farm…
We hitched up our rented tent trailer and headed south.
Here’s the question of the day:
What I could do with $2100?
Answer: Plenty.
Shopping.
Home improvement.
Travel…
Ah travel, how I love thee.
For just a bit more than $2100 my family could fly to Cancun, spend five nights at an all-inclusive hotel and still have enough to fly home. Though I can’t understand why we would want to fly home.
twenty-one hundred dollars…
Monday was National Wear Your Apron Out Day.
And though I got accused of making it up for attention so I could wear my Mother’s Day gift, I did not.
(But making up new holidays does sound fun, I’ll have to try it…)
For more pictures that tell their own stories, go to 5 Minutes for Mom.
31
How about November?
30
March?
31
I know because my second grade teacher taught me a trick, a trick that I still use all these years later.
Ball your hands into fists.
Now look at them. Do you see how your knuckles make bumps and valleys?
If you assign each bump and valley a month of the year, in order, the bump-months will be the ones with 31 days, while the valleys will be the ones that only have 30 (except for February, which has 28-ish days).
Confused yet?
Maybe a visual will help.
I’ve asked the Girl Wonder to be my hand model:
I’ve always been amazed that this works so well.
And it’s not just that every other month has 31 days.
Oh, no.
If you look at July and August, they are both on bumps and they both have 31 days.
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This is my 100th post. Let’s all take a moment to reflect.
It’s okay. I’ll wait…
Finished already?
Really? You don’t need more time?
All right then…
I know it is a bloggy tradition to mark this day with a list of 100 things about me. So I wrote my list, ut I won’t be publishing it.
My mom (second from the left) with her sister and some friends:
I always knew my mom was funny.
I’ve told stories about her to friends, family members, and strangers in line at the grocery store. People always crack up at her antics.
But thanks to the wonders of the internet, all week I’ve been able to share my “special” mom with a much wider audience.
And as Sally Fields might say, “You like her! You really like her!”
You know what? I like her too.
There is so much more I could share.
Like some of the crazy things she said and did at the nursing home where she worked. For example, the time she thought a woman was saying “I’m going to dine”. My mom patted her hand and told her, “Oh, yes they are coming to take you in just a minute.” Unfortunately, the poor thing was really saying, “I’m going to die”.
Or I could tell you all about the time she went to Jazzercize and following the instructor’s direction to “tighten those cheeks” made Mom’s mouth really sore.
Oh, and who could forget her love for ice cream? Once she told me that she ate a whole brick of it in the car on the 25 mile drive home from the store. When I told her, “Mom, you can’t do that!” She said, “Sure I can. I keep a spoon in my glove box.”
My mom has left her purse on the top of the car and driven away at least a dozen times.
She has picked up driftwood at the beach, only to discover it to be dog poop. But it was pretty dog poop.
She has tried cleaning her glasses with furniture polish and then couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her eyes.
The list goes on and on…and new stories are added everyday.
I could probably make this blog all about her and never run out of material. (Shhh…don’t give her any ideas!)
Instead, I’ve offered to set my mom up with a blog of her very own when I come to visit. That way she can tell her own stories. I’ll share the URL once we get it going.
Speaking of sharing, I’d like to share a little message with my mom:
Happy Mother’s Day and thanks for the laughs!
If you’ve enjoyed my My Mom’s Funnier than Your Mom series, please leave a comment for her here.
I know she’ll be reading, just as soon as she finds her glasses.
My mom is a terrible driver. Just ask the mailbox.
All right, maybe I’m being too hard on her.
She only hit it four or five times.
Never mind that the mailbox was at least three car lengths from where she was trying to park. It must have snuck sneaked up on her while she was looking to see if someone was at the front door of the house.
But the mailbox wasn’t the worst of it.
I can’t even remember all the times she had a little “incident” in the car.
And since I’m striving for accuracy here at Frantically Simple, I think I’ll call and ask her.
(I don’t know how to record and post our conversation – if anyone could teach me that trick, I promise many entertaining posts will come out of it.)
Here is a transcript of our actual conversation with my commentary in italics:
Me: Hi mom, how’re you doing?
She starts giggling
Mom: Fine, but I’m tired. We were working really hard in the yard today.
Two things: First, I can tell she’s been reading my blog, because she can’t stop giggling. And second, catching her when she’s tired is always amusing. It’s as close to drunk as she’ll ever be. (She does not drink at all.)
Me: Mom, I need to ask you some questions for my blog. Do you have a minute?
She begins laughing out right.
Mom: Did you see my comment?
Me: Yeah, it was funny.
Mom: What did people say about it?
Me: Nothing that I know of.
Mom: sounding a little bit disappointed Oh.
Me: People don’t always respond to other comments. But it was funny.
Could someone please respond to her comment? It would mean so much to her. She likes attention even more than I do.
Mom: What did you want to ask about?
Me: Mom, how many cars have you crashed?
Giggling commences again and continues throughout the rest of the conversation.
Mom: I don’t know.
thinking
I couldn’t begin to tell you, probably five or six.
Me: Why do you think that is?
Mom: ‘Cuz other people don’t know how to drive!
giggle-giggle
big sigh
No, I just don’t pay attention.
Me: What are you thinking about when you drive?
more giggling
Mom: I don’t know. Like yesterday I was thinking about trying to put on my seatbelt and I almost rolled into that car behind me.
Me: Oh mom! Be careful!
Being distracted while driving has always been a big problem for my mom. Once she and a friend were driving together from Oregon to Utah. My mom drove first. While the kids fought played, the two ladies visited in the front seat. It must have been a good conversation because six hours after they left they saw a “Welcome to California” sign. Way back when they had first gotten on the freeway, she had gone South instead of North, and she was just now discovering it!
Me: Big accidents aside, tell me about the little ones. How many fender benders, bumps and scrapes would you say you’ve had?
Still laughing.
Mom: Lemme see… I broke the mirror off coming in the gate…I backed into a tree…I slid off the road and hit a tree…Actually, I was wedged between two trees!giggle Now that’s talent!
Me: I wouldn’t actually call that good driving, Mom. Lucky, maybe – that you weren’t hurt, I mean.
So what causes all these accidents? Are you just somewhere else?
Mom: She sounds disgusted. I don’t like snow. That’s my biggest problem.
This woman really hates snow. If she could kill it by running over it with her car, she would.
pauses to think Wait, maybe not just snow…
I do okay on highway, it’s just in town that I lose concentration. I get distracted.
Ooooh look, shiny stores! WHAM!
And one way streets! Like that time in Utah I was going the wrong way on a one way street.
pensive
I totaled that car…
giggling again
Oh! One time it was a mans fault. He sideswiped me in an intersection!
sounds irritated
He just wasn’t paying any attention to what he was doing!
Me: So…one out of ten wasn’t your fault?
Mom: I’m a basket case aren’t I?
Now we’re both giggling.
Me: No comment. Anything else to add for my readers?
I’m wrapping it up, but she sounds like she’s just getting warmed up.
Mom: Proudly One time, I took a lady home form a church meeting. I hit a post coming out.
Me: What about having wheat growing in your car?
When I was little, my mom had a home based business selling Bosch Kitchen Machines. One of her demo items was a wheat grinder. One time a bag of wheat spilled in the car and the wheat kernels sprouted in the carpet. We had a little mobile farm on the floor of our car. And with wheat prices being what they are now, I kind of wish that car was still around.
Mom: Oh, don’t mention that, they’ll think I’m really dirty.
Me: Mom, these are all strangers. Who cares what they think?
I’m sorry. I care about each and every one of my readers. I truly love you all, but I had to convince her not to worry.
Mom: Some people might see it that know me.
Me: If they know you, they already know your car is dirty.
More giggling.
Me: So how many tickets have you gotten?
Mom: proudly Only one ticket in four years.
Me: How do you get out of them all?
Mom: One time I was dressed like Mrs. Claus. I was going down to the, um… whachamacallit? Where I worked?
Me: The nursing home?
She ued to be an activities director at a nursing home.
Mom: Right. I told him, “I’m in a hurry to get these presents to to my residents.” and he let me off.
Another time you got me out of a ticket, don’t you remember? That time I slid under a truck and ended up breaking my ankle? It was just a week or so after my hysterectomy? The cop came over and was going to give me a five hundred dollar ticket. I started crying and you jumped up and said, “Can’t you see the poor woman’s suffered enough?” and he ended up not giving me a ticket.
Me: I forgot that. Happy Mother’s Day!
She’s distracted.
Mom: Oh! My water’s cold!
Me: Mom? Are you getting in the tub?
Mom: I was going to, but it’s all cold. I musta used up all the hot water…
Me: Okaaay…I’m gonna let you go. Goodnight.
Mom: Bye, love you.
Me: Love you, too. And, mom? Be careful, would you?
So there you have it. My mom is definitely a worse driver than your mom. For her sake, (and for all of us out on the road with her) I hope gas prices get a little higher. Anything to keep her off the road.
For more about my mom, check out my My Mom’s Funnier Than Your Mom series. But please, not while you are driving.
Okay maybe I would, but only for the sake of a good prank. And my mom? She’s only the easiest person to prank on the entire planet.
Like that time I was nine years old. I was playing in the backyard and found a dead bird. I don’t know how it died; it looked really, um, fresh. I stood there looking at it and thinking about how pretty it was. Even though it was dead I couldn’t bear the though of it getting eaten by a cat. So without really thinking about it, I scooped it up and took it into the house.
No, I wasn’t planning on keeping it as a low maintenance pet (really clean, but smelly). I had decided to bury it and needed to find a little cardboard coffin. And since moms always know where stuff like that is, I made a beeline for the kitchen where my mom was on the phone.
You know, the one that hung in the kitchen with a really long curly cord.
You had one like that, right?
Anyway, she looked at me with the bird in my hands and well, I just couldn’t resist.
Me: in a whisper so as to not interrupt her conversation, because I am polite like that Mom. Mom? Mom!
Mom: eying the bird and nodding at me Hmm?
Me: Look at this bird. It just flew out of the sky and landed in my hand. Wanna pet it?
Mom: talking into the phone Oh my! This pretty little bird just flew out of the sky and landed in Heidi’s hand. I can’t believe it.
Begins to pet bird. It’s sitting so still. It’s really tame. And so pretty.
Me: Wanna know what else it is?
Mom: Hmm?
Me: IT’S DEAD! BWAHAHAHA!
Mom: Drops phone and emits gagging sounds while running to wash hands
Weren’t I an absolute delight?
And no matter how often I got her, she always believed me.
Like the time I told her that “gullible” is spelled wrong in the dictionary. She was concerned that no one would know how to spell it right.
Or even better than that, the time I got Dr. Phil to call her.
Okay, so it was really me using a Dr. Phil celebrity soundboard.
Go ahead and try it out. I’ll wait….
Fun, isn’t it?
So anyway, she was so excited! Not a moment of disbelief, because she somehow thinks that I can accomplish anything. Even getting her a phone call with her favorite tv celebrity.
(Mom, I’m really not that good. But thanks for believing in me. It makes my life so much more entertaining!)
She was so nervous, she didn’t know what to say. Especially when “Dr. Phil” got past the small talk and told her he wanted her to start living as a gay woman!
All she could say was, “No, Dr. Phil. I don’t want to do that.”
Weirdness aside, that phone call was the highlight of her life. At least until I burst out laughing and burst her bubble.
And her reaction? “It was only a joke?” laughter, then “Well did Dr. Phil give you a recording of himself?”
When I explained that I really don’t know Dr. Phil, she cracked up and started naming all the other people she’d like “Dr. Phil” to call.
I’ve given her Alka-Seltzer and told her it was Sprite (just last month, actually), rolled her window down in a car wash (not a real prank, but funny nonetheless), and hidden her glasses and/or the tv remote and blamed it on her dogs (wait, that was actually my little brother, not me).
She always laughs. And being able to laugh at yourself is a really great thing.
I think in that way I might be a teeny, tiny bit (ahem) like my mother.
And it’s not so bad. I said it. So there.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have some phone calls to make…
Oh, and in case you were wondering, the above photo is my mom modeling the white elephant gift she received for Christmas. She thinks it’s really funny, but it looks like my dad thinks otherwise. It looks to me like he’s taking it way too seriously. Eeewwww!
Check out my My Mom’s Funnier Than Your Mom series. It will give your diaphragm a workout. (Meaning the muscle effected by laughter, not the form of birth control.)
In the tradition of sharing really bad pictures of me I offer you this:
Yes, my hair does look better than in yesterday’s post; my mom had long since been banned from touching it. But even so, there is no getting around that this is an unflattering picture.
My mom is posing for the camera, though she forgot to put in her tooth. She is just happy to be holding my tiny Girl Wonder.
My sister and I are pee-your-pants laughing, probably at something our mom said.
She says funny hilarious things all the time. The problem is, she doesn’t mean to.
I’ve already blogged about the prosthetic/prostate mix-up.
Here are a few more in that vein:
Mom had been suffering from periodontal disease (hence the missing tooth in the photo) though at the time the ailment was referred to as pyria.
She made an appointment with a new dentist for a check-up. Midway through the exam, my mom interrupted him to ask, “Do I still have gonorrhea?”
What else could the poor man do other than to reply, “I can’t tell from here.”
And then there was the time when my mom spent the entire day at the genealogical library. She was doing something called “extractions”. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think it has to do with copying information from microfiche.
Anyway, when she got home she called her friend Judy. (We were always cracking up over Judy too because she often got as confused as my mom. Listening to them talk to each other was always entertaining.)
Here’s how the conversation went:
Judy: Hi Charlene. Where’ve you been all day? I’ve been trying to call you.
Mom: Oh! I just spent the whole day at the gynecologist. I’m tired.
Judy: What? Is everything okay.
Mom: Oh, yes. It was actually a wonderful experience, but I was there for seven hours. I even brought my own lunch.
Judy: Seven hours! What in the world were you doing?
Mom: Extractions.
Once my brother thought he was having a heart attack, but it turned out to be angina.
Can you guess what my mom told poor Judy?
Yup, you guessed it.
Judy said, “Well, to discover that he had one of those after all these years. No wonder it about gave him a heart attack.”
If you enjoyed these stories, be sure to read the check out my My Mom’s Funnier Than Your Mom series. I’m blogging funny stories about her all week.
When you are done, go see We Are THAT Family for more funny pictures that should never, ever be scrapbooked.
In keeping with my My Mom’s Funnier than your Mom series this week, I thought I’d share this truth:
Having my mom be my hair stylist when I was growing up didn’t work for me.
It. just. didn’t.
Um…those bangs are sort of really crooked.
And now so are the teeth. Somebody get this girl a stylist and an orthodontist, stat!
That’s right cover those monstrous teeth. (Braces are coming, just hang on, girl.)
Oh, and the black clothes? I was mourning my lack of hair cuteness.
And my personal favorite:
I can’t decide what’s worse. The home perm? The mullet? Blue eyeliner? Those earrings? Or that totally rad sweatshirt?
