We All Scream for...Different Reasons

I was meandering through the frozen foods section of Publix this weekend when I was startled by the packages of frozen treats staring back at me.
Just who, exactly, does Blue Bell think they're marketing to? By the the ice cream models before me, I would have to say, kids and pedophiles. The only thing missing from this picture (other than his protective eye wear) is a caption reading, "Get in my van. There's more where this came from."

Here we have old MacDonald. And, on his farm he had some Rohypnol. E-I-E-I-zzzzzzzz.

I don't even know what to say about this photograph, but I wouldn't be surprised if her other hand held a machete. This did not make me want to scream for ice cream. Darn you, Blue Bell, for being so disturbing, and yet, so delicious.

Thanksgiving Run Down

Thanksgiving is upon us and the turkey is almost ready. It has been soaked in brine, injected, and rubbed. The only thing left to do is make love to it, but for the life of me, I can’t tell the top from the bottom.

If you’re like me, then you have three or four families to celebrate this holiday with. We had one such celebration this past weekend with my folks in Alabama. It was wonderful as always and reminded us of years past when we were all together. However, this year was very different. My baby sister is all grown up now, and within the last year has a new job and a new house to be thankful for.

I listened to her talk about her brand new world with pride. “I met my next door neighbor. She introduced herself as Jen, then mentioned that she goes by Diamond at work.”

I jumped in. “Well, that’s a lovely story, Leigh. Thank you for sharing that. You know, the world needs strippers just as much as lawyers.” I saw Brantley open his mouth and before he could get it out, “No, we cannot talk about something else. Stop trying to change my family.”

By that time, Leigh had moved on to a work related story. She is a nurse in a trauma/burn unit and has to encounter horrific things every day. She was telling one of these horrific and detailed stories at the table, but to my satisfaction she ended it on an up note. “If you can move your arms, I’m not washing your who-ha or brushing your teeth,” she said. Brantley got up and took Luke into another room where I heard him say, “Daddy, I wanna brush my teef.” Luckily, they were too far away to hear her recount accidentally activating a comatose patient’s penile implant, and then having to call the doctor and tell him that she had just given her patient an erection.

Ah, the sweet moments spent with family. I hope your Thanksgiving is equally magical. Happy turkey day!!

Hollidaze

Luke’s preschool had their Thanksgiving pageant and party this afternoon. Not to my surprise, Luke wasn’t much on participation. He immediately ripped off his decorative Native American vest fashioned out of a brown paper bag, and threw down his feathered hat. Then, I had to sit in front of fifty people while securing him in position (held him down) as the kids sang a song about turkeys. He actually didn’t sing much, but he cut his eyes at me with a slight grin on his face which told me that he was enjoying himself. I was glad.
After the show it was time to eat. We got in line and while standing in front of the dessert table, Luke grew impatient and stuck his entire face into an iced carrot cake. Yes, it had nuts in it, and yes, he’s still alive. Then, he sat still long enough to stuff himself silly. The only thing that kid can be serious about is food.
After that, we helped clean up and headed out. I had to make one stop at the post office before we started home. There was a package that needed mailing. Despite my efforts to hurry Luke along, he sauntered through the parking lot and in the door as slowly as he could. I addressed the package and sealed it up. Now, all we had to do was wait our turn, but Luke had already proven once today that he wasn’t a good waiter. That's when suddenly and without warning, he licked the garbage can that stood in the lobby. It seemed to have happened in slow motion, and much like a bad dream, I couldn’t intervene in time. Before snatching him up and reprimanding him, I caught a glimpse of the sticky brown substance he had just imbibed. Could it be anthrax, glue, or perhaps liquid cooties? I guess we won’t know until his fever spikes.
Have the holidays really just begun? Please someone, wake me when Santa leaves.

Nolensville Book Signing Pics

Thanks to everyone who made it out to the Nolensville Feed Mill last Saturday for my book signing. It was a fun time spent with new and old friends. Next stop, Montevallo, AL!!

And the Winner is....

Congratulations to Pat Littlejohn!! She is the lucky winner of an autographed copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Matters and five Loripalooza pens.

Many thanks to everyone who participated!!

Poor Kanye...and "all that jazz"

Hey Matt Lauer, why so brutal? And by brutal, I mean talking in a voice soft enough as to not wake a baby. Don’t get me started on the rational and necessary questions you posed to Kanye West on the Today Show this week. How do you expect someone to offer a half-hearted apology for saying stupid things over and over if you are going to make them feel a discomfort, known to most people as guilt, in the process?
Shame on you, Matt Lauer. Whenever you are ready to apologize to Mr. West, he can be reached in his ivory tower.

Reminder- Book Signing This Weekend!

Don't forget this Saturday from 2-5pm I will be signing copies of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Matters at the Nolensville Feed Mill. I will have twenty copies on hand to sell, or feel free to bring your own. Remember, you don't need a book to stop by and say hello. I'd love to see you!

The address is 7280 Nolensville Rd.Nolensville, TN 37135

(click here to view the Feedmill website.)

Blog Giveaway- One Week Left!

There is one week left before I draw to choose the winner of the newly released Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Matters. So far, there are only three people in the running so you still have a good chance of winning. Click HERE to read all of the rules and to find out how to easily be entered to win FIVE times.
In order to win you must be a blog follower. Here are the instructions on how to do that.

1. Go to http://www.loripalooza.com/.
2. Click on FOLLOW with google friend connect (top right side of page)
3. Click on create a new Google account
4. Complete the required information
5. Click I accept. Create my account.
6. Click on Follow this blog (Loripalooza should be at the top of this page)
7. You will get the congratulations page then click close.
Now, you are logged into Loripalooza.

In the future to log in:
Go to http://www.loripalooza.com/
Click on Sign In (top right of page)

Happy Monday and good luck!

Live Birth Reenactment

Halloween: a Summary

Halloween had a little less magic this year than in years past. Thanks to recent events from Yemen, I found it somewhat inappropriate to dress Luke in his Unibomber costume. So, we had to resort back to the cow costume he didn't want to wear. It took both Brantley and I to wrestle him into the costume and get it zipped up. All that fun wouldn't have been complete without a marital spat, which ended in me shouting at Brantley, "He's the two year old so why are you acting like a big fat baby?" Not my finest moment, but we made it through and after a few houses Luke got the hang of saying, "Trick or treat."

We made it back to the house in time to give out candy and experience my favorite part of Halloween, passing judgement on everyone's costumes. There was the expected super heroes, vampires and zombies, with splashes of originality and cute kids. Then came the preteen girls dressed like jail bait. Did their Dad's not notice their costumes before they walked out the door? I saw fit to punish them with a candy penalty. They would receive only one piece per vixen.

Next, came the boys, or should I say, young men who appeared far too tall to be trick or treating. One of these gentleman approached with a familiar mask made popular in the movie Scream. By his size I guessed him to be about fourteen. He eyed the bowl and asked for a specific item, a trait I detest and for which I usually give a candy penalty. However, this kid was big enough to beat the crap out of me so I allowed it. "Do you think I could have one more for my wife?" he asked. "She loves those."

"What did you just say? Did you say wife?" I asked

I could feel a smile coming from under that mask as he pointed to his wedding band. "Get off my porch," I stated simply to the grown man clutching a pillow case full of candy, and he did. Loser.

About that time, anorexic runner lady ran by for her fourth sprint of the day. She's the poster child for the female athlete triad and her body hasn't seen a period in years. Of course she couldn't be home giving out candy like everyone else. That would be unhealthy. So, instead she runs the neighborhood on a dark night with the highest traffic of the year. Hey Miss, getting hit by a car isn't good for you, either.

Up walked another individual who was too big to be trick or treating. I say individual becuase I was unsure of their gender, but he/she weighed in at a good deuce and a half with what appeared to be a black DD bra on the outside of his/her clothes. That was the costume, normal street clothes with a bra on the outside. He/she definitely filled out the bra, which lead me to think female, but the rest of the picture just didn't fit. Of course it really didn't matter other than requiring me to change my standard question, "What are you supposed to be, little girl?" Instead, I changed it to, "Hey, look at you there."

The night drew on and the candy eventually dwindled with two little boys finishing me off. "I like peanut butter cups," one of them told me. "Sorry, I don't have anymore of those," I said politely, while secretly wishing him a candy penalty for being so forward. "But, I see some behind your back," said annoying little boy. "Mind your business," I told him. I wasn't about to give up all of my candy after all the hard work I had done that evening. I sent them on their way, blew out the jack-o-lantern, and turned off the lights.

At last, Halloween had drawn to a close. Time to go Christmas shopping. Ugh!

Parenting Examined

What does it say about me as a mom that after pulling up to an ATM to make a withdrawal, Luke (2 years old) shouts out the window, "Can I get some chicken and a Doctah Peppa?"

I can say without a doubt that this kid has NEVER had a Doctah Peppa in his life, but maybe he's seen Mommy and Daddy place a few too many orders. I should've been ashamed, but instead I was a little proud of him for NOT ordering fries with that.