KFC Conundrum

Have you seen the latest KFC commercial? A family is sitting around the table enjoying their meal and the wife/mother looks at you and says something like this

 "tonight it's all about me and that means no cooking." 

 But did you notice what an awful wife/mother she is?

 It's OK by me for her to take the night off from cooking and it's even OK by me for the kids and hubby to eat greasy take-out. I've been there and done that more times than the average mom/wife.  But somewhere along the line this lady failed.

. The family gets to wolf this humongous Kentucky Fried Chicken meal

 with all the fixings down  and they have to do it without anything to drink.

 Is Mom the only one that knows how to put something to drink on the table and everyone

 has to do without when she has a night off from cooking?

 Did they forget to buy the drinks, were the drinks too expensive,

 are they a liquid-free family,

 or were they all too lazy to at least get a glass of water for everyone?

 Maybe a beverage is a special treat in this household or is saved for

 birthdays and anniversaries.

 Do you think they eat their snacks without liquid sustenance?

I can't help but wonder what advertising agency decided

 that your average family  sitting around the dinner table looks better

 with no tea, cola, spirits, or water on the table?

 It's a conundrum I may never solve.

Hunka Hunka is so Confused!

Since it has been a couple of weeks since we've been fishing we threw the fishing rods

and trolling motor in the back of the truck along with the battery and

 the tackle box (and a snack) and we headed to the pond..

OKAY, OKAY, we all know Bob got everything ready but the snack.

 But let's face it, I do snacks a lot better than I do organizing a truckbed.

 

 Anyway, it was a great day for fishing. Thank you God for letting it be an overcast sky. I forgot to put on sunscreen which usually means I become a shade dweller while fishing. And I don't like to do that because half the fun of fishing with Bob is sitting in the back of the boat thinking up ways to either aggravate him (SEE LIST BELOW) or to make him laugh.

 

Anyway, I found out today that sweet Hunka Hunka is so confused. He was a bass fisherman when I first met him and has been a bass fisherman for the past 40 years. I can't even think about how much money we have invested in rods, reels, tackle, boats and snacks! 

 But today he just couldn't seem to remember what we were there for

.

Anyway,  he starts off fishing with a Zebco. WHAAAT? That's right, the Ambassador, the Shimanos, and the recently acquired AbuGarcia were left unused. The lowly, cheap Zebco was the star of the show today. First Hunka Hunka catches a stickfish.(for you nonfishing peeps,

 a stickfish is a stick or limb you hook and get into the boat.

 Anything you hook has to make it inside the boat to count in the lineup)

 

Anyway, the first water swimmer he catches is a turtle measuring about 7 inches across. That's right, folks, a turtle. He hooks the creature not in the mouth but under the front shell super close to its mouth. I never knew turtles could hiss and try to attack while hanging in the air.  Next on the agenda is a few bream and a shellcracker or two. Becoming even more confused, he adds a catfish to the lineup. Then he reaches up and snags a cork someone

left hanging in the brush hanging over the water.

 

Anyway, he FINALLY catches a bass, but it is only about 5 inches long. (unbelievably this was bigger than one of the bass I caught with my breambuster) 

 He catches a crappie and the big bass of the day  (a little over a pound). 

Sometime during the day he also catches a shrub. 

But he didn't get the shrub into the boat so I don't guess it counts.

 

Hunka Hunka has always told me that there is definitely a difference in rods and reels. Today I found this to be true. Baitcasting reels know that they are to be used with artificial bait to catch bass. Zebco combos don't know what in the world they were manufactured for so they catch at least one of everything they can and make the user look like they are a confused fisherman that doesn't know what he came to the pond to fish for.

WAYS TO AGGRAVATE A HUSBAND WHILE FISHING AN ALUMINUM BOAT
1.Clean the moss off  your artifical worm  by splashing it in the water sideways and spraying water   over your hubby; more than once or twice.
2. Cast your line towards the front of the boat and let your line fall at the top of his ear.
3. Sing.
3. Always add an extra fish to your count and always subtract one from his count. And, yes, it is always a competition to see who catches the most.
4.  Cast over his line.
5. Spill earthworms all over the boat.
6. Freak out because you are close to a spiderweb. (he claims most of these are worm webs, but it looks like a spider web so it counts as a spiderweb.)
7. Act like he almost hit you in the face when he swings his rod back to cast.
8. Put anything at all on top of the battery.
9. Tickle the back of his neck with the tail end of your worm; more than once or twice.
10. Sprinkle cold water from the ice chest over him.

to poo or not to poo? that is the question.

Today I'd like to discuss something that has been bothering me for most of my adult life.

 

During my lifetime I have visited numerous public restrooms. 

 

I have been to the awful smelling restrooms at football games and wondered how a room

with open windows could possible manufacture such an odor.

 

 I have been to hospital restrooms that smelled so strongly of disinfectant that it

 burned my eyes and yet it didn't quite mask that same odor

 I smelled at the football restroom.

 

 I have been to service station bathrooms that would gag a maggot. 

 

Movie theater bathrooms usually smell of  burned popcorn.

 

The bathroom at my daughter's orthodontist smelled like a

 super strand

 of grape potpourri.

 (I've never understood how anyone ever came up with a grape scent.

 I've never eaten grapes that had much odor.  Do the grape smell test in the privacy of your own home. You can get funny looks in public. Just saying) 

 

I've been to elementary school bathrooms in my tender single-digit years that smelled like that oily red stuff they would sprinkle on wet stuff (mainly wet stuff like puke, vomit, throw-up; whatever you want to call it) and in my double-digit years the high school bathrooms smelled like an old lady's powder puff. I think the high school smell was a combination of  hair spray, cologne, deodorant, etc. mixed with the you-know-what smell. 

 

The bathrooms at my church smell nice. (The lady that cleans uses a Renuzit fragrance that I like.)

 

 I've been to the bathroom at the IGA in my hometown and it is always clean and smells OK. 

 

Chinese restaurant bathrooms for some reason always smell not exactly sour,

 but more like they never rinse the mops. 

 

The restrooms at Mexican restaurants are usually clean, but it almost always has only one toilet. (it's like they don't know what Mexican food does to the digestive system of the majority of Americans.) 

 

 The old police station bathroom I visited smelled like old wood and Pine-Sol.

(No, you may not ask how I came to find this out.) 

 

But my quandary is this: Why, in a public restroom,  can we ladies tee-tee and not poo-poo and toot?  How did we as American women evolve into ladies who could tee-tee in a stall next to a friend or complete stranger and never give it a thought; after all it is a natural biological function and everybody does it.  However, it is a major, major, major faux pas to let out a tiny bubble of gassy air or a little poo-poo. Who got to decide this was a no-no? I have spent a few painful moments waiting for a restroom to empty  (and you can wait forever for a WalMart bathroom to empty.) 

I bet men don't have these problems.

God watches out over fools and idiots

Found myself doing the silliest thing the other day.

I know, hard to believe I would do something silly. Totally out of character for me.

 Look at the pic below and see if you can figure out where this is going.

 

This is a three foot section of our Laundry/Pantry/Storage Place to put any other junk we don't know what to do with but we better save it just in case we might need it one day room.

 (Nothing to do with the post but I do like the way Hubba Hubba's brown shoes

 look like they are floating in this pic.)

 The item I'm going to discuss is the pair of  white Reeboks on the right under the high chair.

(Nothing to do with the post but  I think I have finally figured out the "keep it cause I might need it one day" purpose of this chair. I'm thinking about painting it and making it a time-out chair. We'll see where my good intentions take me.) And just in time because the chair is 28 years old.

 I do hope it's the oldest item in this room.

 The Reeboks are my fishing shoes. I always, always, always

 (because of my enormous fear of arachnids)

 pick them up, run my hands all the way in to check for spiders

 (cause the shoes stay out here for days without being used

 and would make a wonderful nesting sight for black widows),

 and then yank them onto my feet without untying the laces.

 Off we go fishing!

 

 I have done this for years. (not with the same pair of shoes; I do occasionally

 replace the old pair with a new pair of old shoes.

 I like that statement-replace the old pair with a new pair of old. Ha!).

 

 It dawned on me a couple of weeks ago that I was being so foolish.

  I bet you have already figured it out.

 It's only by God's good grace that a spider hasn't already bitten me on my finger

. Why would I try to protect my toes from a spider bite by offering the spider my fingertips?

Surely the venom from a bite would reach my heart and lungs

 faster from my fingertips than from my toes.  

 

It must be true that God looks out over fools and idiots.

 

I wonder what other actions I take to protect myself that are actually placing me in more danger?

Newest addition

Our newest addition  (even though you can hardly see her).

Having grandchildren never gets old.  Knowing this will be the last grandchild is bittersweet, but we have been blessed with the 6 sweetest and most beautiful grands in the world. And it's true that grandchildren keep you young. You take walks and look at butterflies and bugs and ants. You stretch up to see airplanes and birds. You run to be the first one to the potty. (you never win at this). You sing songs and act crazy and do funny faces and voices. You laugh with your teenage grands, take great joy in their accomplishments and pray, pray, pray for them.  Through the years we have constructed thousands of lego and tinkertoy thing-a-ma-jigs; only they know what they are building. And I've learned how to get down in the floor and play.

 (more amazing is the fact that I have learned how to get up off of the floor unaided).

 

Just like life being OK without kids; life is OK without grandchildren. But having grandchildren is like having kids; you can't imagine how you got along without them or what you did with all that love that is now theirs forever.

BURYING MY KILLER INSTINCT

A few weeks back my sweet Hunka Hunka and I went to Luverne

 (that's pronounced loo verne, not la verne) to have lunch with my sister. 

 

On an  aside: We can count this lunch as community service or a good Christian deed since she had spent several days in the hospital with her mother-in-law. (just in case God needs reminding of our good deeds and will reward us when we reach a certain level of points.)

 Yes, I know that joke might be offensive to some of you, but it was still a little bit funny.

 

Back to the story. My lovely sister picked Subway for lunch. Great choice; close by and you could have a sandwich or a salad.  We're chattering on and on and occasionally even letting Hunka Hunka have a say as we work down the line, choose our bread, choose our cheese, hot or cold? Then we notice the super slender, young, nose-earringed and in a tank top with tattoos in various places guy in front of us. He's ordered a footlong sandwich and is piling on everything in the display. That sandwich looked thicker than one out of a commercial. Seriously!  It was so thick the man fixing the sandwich could hardly close the top over. He could have definitely used some of those thick, thick rubberbands  to hold it together. Lovely sister starts a conversation with him. He must be hungry, going to eat lunch and dinner (cause they don't eat supper where she comes from)

 from one sandwich, etc. Da, De, Da, De, Da

 

On an side: I'm thinking he must be feeding a family of four somewhere and that's tells you how big the sandwich was because ya'll know I can eat humongous amounts of food at one sitting.

 

Back to the story: The nice young man replies back (and this is where I have to look way, deep down inside myself and find the strength to bury my killer instincts). He says it's all for him. He will eat the whole, entire sandwich himself at one sitting and be hungry again in less than TWO, yes, I said TWO hours. He will then eat again every two hours and probably wake up during the night hungry. He eats 5,000 calories a day, at least. He has a very high metabolism, he never gains any weight,

he wishes he could gain weight.

AAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

 

On an aside: Now do you think it would have been wrong of me to kill him on the spot? Just swat him like a fly and grind him underfoot? I didn't know there were people with this problem out there and I sure as heck didn't know they considered it a problem!

 

Back to the story: We managed smiles (this was not hard for lovely sister as she is a much nicer person than the writer) as he left with his 7 lb. sandwich.  But I thought of this young man last night as I read this quote on Pinterest (and if you don't know what Pinterest is you have my sincere congratulations on being a person that actually does things instead of collecting pictures of what everyone else is doing. I have quite a collection of what everyone else out there is doing).

 

THE QUOTE: MEN THINK THAT ALL WOMEN WANT A GOOD-LOOKING SUPER RICH MAN TO MARRY. WHAT WE REALLY WANT IS TO EAT ALL WE WANT WITHOUT GAINING WEIGHT.

 

Can I get an Amen, sisters?



National Holiday

I haven't been on here in so long I am surprised it recognized me when I logged in. Even more surprising is the fact that I remembered my password.

Here's an idea I want to get the government and everyone else to push for:

NATIONAL DRAMA-FREE DAY!

Don't you think that would be great? Heck, let's  make it:

NATIONAL DRAMA-FREE WEEK!

My brain is in overdrive. I better take a break.