Mama Tiger

We’ve had quite a bit of rain in Nashville lately. I know it’s necessary for survival but it really puts a damper on my world because most of my eleven month old son’s entertainment comes from outdoor activities. Well it rained again yesterday so I decided we would check out the Discovery Center in Murfreesboro. It’s an indoor facility where children can run around and play while stimulating their little minds at the same time. This would be a sure fix for Luke’s rainy day cabin fever.

When we arrived there around noon the place was packed. It turned out that I wasn’t the only desperate mom with a genius plan. As soon as we walked in the door we were greeted with temper tantrums and meltdowns from kids in every direction. One little boy in particular was running around, snatching things, pushing other kids out of his way and being an all around asshole. I would never use that word regarding a child unless it was really true…but he was an asshole. His parents were dragging along behind him and looked as if he had worked them over as well. They were evidently no match for him. I couldn’t believe all the other parents putting up with this little beast that was pushing their own kids around. I would never sit idly by and watch someone bully my little boy without saying a word, I thought.

We decided to forego all the madness and went to the other side of the room to check out the tractor station. Luke and I climbed inside and in no time he was pushing buttons and playing with the steering wheel. Just then who crashes our private tractor party but the little A-hole himself. He jumped inside the cab with us and pushed Luke aside pinning him between the wall and the steering wheel of the tractor all the while shouting, “Me first! Me first!” Luke then began to cry and Mama Tiger was officially pissed off.

His parents walked over and gently pleaded, “Stephen, buddy, it’s not your turn. Give him a chance,” but they were interrupted with “shut up!” I knew then that it was all up to me. It was “go time” and there was a good chance that I was going to be in the paper the next day. I needed to free Luke so I tried gently pushing little Stephen aside while reasoning with him. I explained to him that Luke was stuck and that he was scared because he is just a baby. Little Stephen didn’t budge and Luke was now screaming. I pleaded, “It’s not your turn! We were here first.” No acknowledgement.

I looked around for his parents and they were nowhere to be found. It then hit me that I couldn’t pick this four year old up and move him out of the way (or body slam him) AND I was obviously losing our verbal exchange. Or was I? Hit with my second stroke of genius for the day, I leaned over pretending to talk to Luke but instead looked straight at little Stephen. Then quietly yet firmly and with a smile on my face I said, “Your boots are ugly, Santa isn’t real and your mommy doesn’t love you.” And just like that he jumped down and ran away. What do you know? Kids can be reasoned with.

As soon as he was gone I picked up Luke who was getting ready to hyperventilate from crying so hard. He was fine and the whole ordeal probably lasted less than two minutes although it seemed like an eternity. I must say that despite sinking low and hitting little Stephen below the belt I had no guilt whatsoever. I felt like the king of the world. Little Stephen will probably require some therapy after what I said to him and at the very least have nightmares for a few months but don’t you worry about him. He learned a very valuable lesson yesterday. Don’t f@#% with my kid.

Mullet Watch 2009

For my latest installment of Mullet Watch I present Dog the Bounty Hunter. His beachy, wind-blown version of this scraggly do includes braids. Good try, Dog but we still know that you're completely bald in back. I give it three out of four brass knuckles.


What do you call someone with hair extensions who is completely bald on top? Why that would be Rock of Love's Brett Michaels of course.

You can call it a "mod-mullet" if you wish but it's a mullet none the less. Due to his clever way of disguising it, however, I give him four out of four herpetic lesions. Good job, Brett! You have just won a month supply of Valtrex.

Incognito

We’ve all heard it before. You’re lying in bed in a full body cast and pouring your heart out to a friend. Just three days before you were laid off from your job when on your way home your failed attempt to avoid hitting an animal renders your car totaled, your pelvis shattered and to top it all off the animal you still managed to mow down was your beloved pet. At times like this there are no words. All you need is the presence of a loved one when you hear it… “I’m sure this is just a blessing in disguise.” "Really?" you ask. "A blessing? You do realize that the narcotics I have to take to ease the pain cause me to poop rock hard turds through a hole in my cast. Well please by all means cancel my order. We’re all full up on blessings here."

You then hesitate to bring up your dear friend’s husband’s infidelity or her Rheumatoid Arthritis but against your better judgment you do it anyway. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, right? Of course, all of these things are blessings in disguise. Blessings have just gotten really good at disguising themselves lately. Let’s see. Bunion on left foot- blessing. Dyslexia- blessing. Diarrhea, crapping my pants, having a two week long period. Blessing, blessing, blessing.

So I guess the common thread in all of these situations is that our loved ones don’t always know how to react or just what to say when people they care for are hurting. When a loved one is hurting sometimes there are no words and the best thing you can do is just be a presence…a silent presence. It will speak volumes.

Otherwise, the next time you see a strange man lurking outside your window wearing an overly elaborate mustache, an ostentatious wig and brandishing a crowbar think twice before calling the police. That may just be your next blessing.

Addiction

Alone I lie in the dark.
Bold face I lie to my friends.
I am suffocating.
Each day my breath grows weaker.
You sit in judgement on your ivory tower.

Who do you think you are, Afrin?
With your magic breathing potion and
promises of not causing dependency if used for less than 72 hours.
I hate you
But then my nose begins to whistle and
I love you again.



My nose candy

In the Begining...

Oh snap! I picked up this little gem from awkwardfamilyphotos.com.

Okay, I get the whole Adam and Eve reference and you might even call it poetic, in a hillbilly sort of fashion. However, I think the most off putting aspect for me is, not Bubba’s hand placement, but the fact that if Adam and Eve wore anything in the Garden of Eden it would have definitely been Lee denim.

And speaking of temptation, my index finger is having quite and affinity for my esophagus right about now.

Good News and Bad News

The bad news is…it’s bathing suit season. The good news is…you can stop doing crunches. I have, aside from the little move it takes to sit up out of bed (in which case I do three or four a day).



Allow me to introduce “Wholesome Wear,” a line of modest yet stylish swimwear endorsed by Discovery Health Channel’s the Duggar Family.

Who in a million years would’ve guessed that this family of twenty, living in a compound and dressing like good times at the FLDS prom, would have a flare for such trend setting duds? I have learned my lesson. Never judge a book by its cover.

If your faith requires you to wear this type of bathing suit then swimming should be against your religion