Archive of ‘Funny’ category

You Better Work….

Sweet Mary Mother of God. Have you ever had one of those days when you walk out the door looking fierce, or so you think, and in a matter of minutes you deteriorate completely. You spend a great deal of time on your look, particularly your hair, because your physical appearance is important for your line of work and you need to be on trend and put together. But, then the planets shift and your are in trouble. Not like you forgot your lipstick, and need a pick me up. No, I am talking more of the holy $h!+ if Stacy and Clinton saw this they may reincarnate “What Not to Wear” just for you.

You catch a glimpse in the rear view and notice a problem

The scarf seemed like a good idea when I left the house, but after further investigation the color and tie technique is resembling an infected goitor. But, that isn’t the worst of my problems. Take a look at that lipstick. It looks as if I put it on with my feet or let Handsome #2, my three-year-old, give it a shot.

Hmm, did you style your hair with a fork, Ariel?

Here, you can really see how great that lipstick application is.I appear to be hemorraging, but just on the sides. Somehow, the center has nothing on it, at all. Shall we discuss the hair? I am quite sure that I used AT LEAST five different products to keep my faux hawk in shape, but somehow it looks more like I just got a fresh trim from a flowbee.

Excuse me Eric Carmen, can we discuss those Hungry Eyes

Holy $h!+ this was the shock of the day. I knew that I looked terrible, but when in the hell did I develop a lazy eye? Looking at this makes me nervous, I am not sure which one to look at. They both look like they hurt and could induce instant vertigo and vomiting….Make.it.stop.

Just cover your whole face and no one will know it’s you

I figured that putting on my sunglasses would make things better. Let’s see about that, idiot. Not only does my hair look like Blanche Devereaux after a romp in the woods, but those damn glasses are so big, they are nearly wrapping around my head. WTF is going on?

Since there was nothing that I could do to make things better from my car, I did the only reasonable thing that I could. I drowned my sorrows in a 440z Diet Dr. Pepper, drove to my office and hid. I suppose it could have been worse. I could have been standing on the beach in a bikini thinking that I was really hot stuff….oh wait……

Oh look, an awkward boy in a bikini with a popeye…..

Day 8, you lost a wagon wheel and the baby is suffering from Typhoid

As of late, the Thomas family has been living a life eerily similar to those pathetic excuses for pioneers in the Oregon Trail video game. Everyone loved Oregon Trail Day at school, it meant a full 45 minutes of fording the river, shooting buffalo after buffalo knowing full well that you would never be able to carry the load back, purchasing senseless rations just because you could and hoping that no one caught dysentery on the way to California. I would have happily shot a buffalo and attempted to carry him home at any point during the last two weeks.
I have heard that boys are rough and tumble, prone to accidents and often covered in bruises, cuts and scrapes. I can handle that, I grew up with three brothers and the occasional scuffle would arise. One particular incident with a recliner has left one brother with a scar that could easily fool any late night bar patron to believe that he was either a) attacked by a bear or b) his kidney was stolen in the middle of the night and he awoke in a bathtub full of ice, but I digress. My sweet, innocent children have had a decent track record. No injuries, no major illnesses, just a pretty easy going four years.  Well, that is if you don’t count that little incident on Handsome #1’s first Easter, when I fell down the steps while holding him and inadvertently broke his leg in the process and didn’t seek medical attention for two days because, “he was fine.” Just a blip on the radar……
Happy First Birthday, you can discuss this with your therapist in 20 years
It was only fitting that our first  second major injury would take place on a day when we had plans. Not the kind of plans where you are going to the zoo and it rains, nope bigger. Not a birthday party that is cancelled because a child gets the flu. Nope, even bigger. My brother, Kevin, and his now wife, Emily, happened to be getting married on March 24. The exact same day that Finnegan marches into our bedroom and says pitifully, yet quite matter-of-factly,
“I fell out of my bed in the middle of the night and I screamed and cried and no one came to get me.”
Yep, the poor child took a header out of his bed and ended up with an injury requiring immediate medical attention, a mere six hours before he was to be a ring bearer in my brother’s wedding. Perfect! It certainly wouldn’t be a Dilthey function without a catastrophe, right? Right. So off to St. Anthony’s Cardinal Glennon pediatric ER for a couple of pictures. We arrived at the hospital and I very casually handed them my insurance card and asked, “How long is this going to take? My husband, two children and I are all in a wedding in a few hours, so we need to be out of here fast.” Hmmmm, that may have been a poor choice. Had I known then what I know now, I would have certainly kept a low profile in the ER.
He found this exciting and couldn’t wait to see his bones
Such a sweet baby, whose mother didn’t hear him cry….I could just die!
Handsome #1 was taken back to a room,  wheeled into X-Ray and asked a few questions about what happened. Ultimately, it was ruled a broken collar bone and he was given a sling to wear to help protect it. As soon as the sling was on, I proceeded to ask really dumb question number two, “Does he have to wear this in the wedding? I mean, there will be a lot of pictures.” The doctor looked at me like, WTF is wrong with you, and said yes it needed to be worn. Fabulous! The darling monogrammed john john will now be totally covered up, at least he will have on his black and white saddles, that made me happy…..Shallow, I know but don’t tell me for one second that if you have a darling outfit planned for your child and something changes that you aren’t pissed? You are just as shallow and a lousy parent just like me…..
This is the best picture I have to date, pitiful. Look at the tap dancer, it is a surprise we didn’t go right back!
Temporarily misplaced sling=Hillbilly healthcare
Handsome #! took to the sling like it was nothing and really gave me no trouble. Let’s fast forward to the following Saturday, shall we? We had family portraits planned that day for Handsome #1, Handsome #2  and Nephew #1 that day. I pressed their seersucker pants, white polos with their monograms and shamrocks and laid out their navy and white saddles. The boys were bathed, dressed and we were on our way to Faust Park.
The ride was uneventful, a little Fresh Beat Band, Yo Gabba Gabba, Dolly Parton for a diversion and a little 9 to 5. We no sooner pulled into the parking lot that I heard the familiar grumbling and splatter. I turn to see my precious Handsome #2 covered from head to toe in banana vomit. Perfect, just perfect. My picture was just ruined.  I couldn’t possibly get Finnegan’s picture taken without Handsome #2, so I turned the car around and headed back home. Not without an extremely over dramatic phone call to Scott where I sobbed uncontrollably about how nothing ever goes right, my life is terrible, I just want one simple picture is that too much to ask and blah, blah, blah…….I think he fell asleep have way through, or at the very least put me on mute.
The next day I had just about had it with being a parent and was thrilled to have a diversion and headed to a family baby shower. No sooner did I walk in the door from my afternoon of being a big girl without someone crying or screaming or rubbing snot on me, that Brennan awoke from his nap. He was clingy and acting incredibly disoriented.  I asked Scott if anything strange had happened and he said that he had fallen off of the chair and bumped his head, but didn’t really cry. This scared the shit of me and then the barfing came. Again, and again, and again. Back to St. Anthony’s Cardinal Glennon ER we went. Perfect, last Saturday, my son fell and I didn’t go to help him or rescue him, which he has made a point to tell everyone, and this time, my other son has fallen and I wasn’t around so I am just not sure what happened to him. I could already hear the call to DFS being made!
He was so sick
This was before the screaming began
Clearance to go home =44 0z of Diet Dr. Pepper
Same routine as last weekend, we got a room, a few X-rays some antinausea medication and the clinical diagnosis of a potential concussion. In other words, no serious damage and he was OK to go home. Thank God! No one even mentioned that I had been there the week before. Maybe they didn’t notice, or maybe they didn’t think that I was crazy, or maybe, just maybe they believed that I wasn’t trying to kill my children! I have certainly closed my eyes from time to time in an effort to make them evaporate, just for 10 minutes or so, but I would never hurt my babies.
Once we were settled back home, it because apparent that whatever was causing this barfing had taken over Handsome #2 and it wasn’t stopping. There was barf everywhere. Scott and I put the kids to sleep hoping for the best, but braced for the worst. And the worst was upon us, Handsome #1 started to barf too. I covered the furniture and floors with sheets, I handed everyone a bucket and urged them to aim well.  Typhoid, dysentery, diphtheria I don’t know what it was, but it was bad and they were down.
We have a piper down…..
Please note that is not vomit on the child, instead Popsicle residue
Thankfully, the plague was rather short lived and we were able to resume normal activity at the Thomas House just in time for Easter and Uncle Jimbo’s 27th birthday extravaganza.
I told you no more pictures!
My mom thought that it would be a real hoot to have a piñata at the party. Being the athlete that I am, I decided that I should help Handsome #1 to bust the piñata open…..It didn’t go so well……Well, I must depart now break time is over in the slammer, until next time, enjoy……

Because I’m Bad, I’m Bad…………really, really bad……

I should have seen it coming. I should have been prepared. All of the signs were there. How could I have been so stupid? There were both physical and behavioral changes, and yet I did nothing to protect myself or to be proactive.
He began to grow a majestic, yet angry mane
He danced on tables without fear
As his brother looked on in horror
This happens to novice parents, not experts like me. But this morning, as I gazed into those beautiful blue eyes, it was as if I could see the flames flickering. I really only have myself to blame.  I have gotten cocky. One good week at Mass, and all of a sudden my son is ready for canonization? Not quite, after this morning’s performance, I think that he may be closer to excommunication.
It started out innocent enough, really it did. We arrived at 10:30 Mass, my strapping lads and I, and made our way to the cry room. Brennan was getting a bit restless by the end of the first prayer, but with Thomas the train in one pocket and a bag of Kix in the other, I was golden. He began with the chorus of “Up, momma, down, momma, up momma, down, momma.” So, I plugged his mouth with a sippy cup of apple juice and went on about my business. Unbeknownst to me, Handsome #2 was winding up on the pitcher’s mound ready to beam an unsuspecting parishioner in the head. I watched in horror as the cup went flying through the air, missing a gentleman, by mere centimeters.  Humiliated, I sheepishly made my way to the front of the room, apologized and sat back down.
(Please note, this was taken after Mass, and is merely a reinactement, well sort of, he was really trying to get out)
As I made my way back to the pew, he stood on the bench, looked at me and cackled. He ran back and forth, taunting me with his eyes, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, you can’t get me.” It was like trying to catch a fish with my bare hands, I finally grabbed hold of him and he slipped right through my arms and made his way to the cry room door. “Help, help. Peasseeee help!” He screamed as if he was locked in a cage filled with live animals. I grabbed him again and attempted to sit him on my lap. But instead he made himself as stiff as a board and howled in agony.
At this point, poor Handsome #1 tried everything to get him to calm down. I think he was afraid that the child was either going to burst into flames right there, or that I was going to make good on my threat to leave someone behind. After handing over trains, cereal, cups and his own prized possessions Handsome #1took a leap of faith and lead his brother by the hand to the stained glass. At this point, my heart melted. He stood and patiently told his baby brother about the colors as Handsome #2 pointed and repeated. It was beautiful to see the love that my boys had for one another and I beamed. That was until Handsome #2 caught my stare and immediately began to scream. “House, Momma! House now! Now! Now!”
Imagine this without Maurmi and wax figures and insert stained glass and people trying to pray in silence

I soon realized that the rest of the cry room’s inhabitants had moved far to the left of the room, I think that they were afraid that the pea soup he was certain to spew was going to stain their Sunday best. For the next 15 minutes we fought, position after position for him to find comfort. We never found that magic spot, but it was time for Holy Communion and a nice walk. You would have thought that he was walking on to a stage, his demeanor changed immediately as we walked out of the door. As we made our way down the aisle, he sweetly waved bye-bye and said Amen! Making all of the old ladies smile.

As Mass came to an end, we walked out to the parking lot and I was stopped not once, not twice, but THREE times to tell me how darling and well behaved my children were. I smiled sweetly, said thank you, and inhaled deeply to be sure that I was not knowingly letting anyone who had clearly hit the Bloody Mary bar before church drive home and kill anyone.
I buckled Brennan in first and made my way to the other side of the car to get Finnegan settled. He is a big boy and buckles himself, so it is a fast effort. As I turned on the car, buckled my seatbelt and checked the review mirror, this is what I saw……….Perfect…….

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