Jokes. As told by T

On the way home from school yesterday, I was delighted to have a front row…well, actually driver’s….seat to the stand-up act my 5-year old is obviously preparing. It went something like this:

T: Mama, wanna hear a joke?

Me: I’d LOVE to hear it. (from the rearview mirror, I notice she is holding a book of “Monster Jokes”)

T: Why do werewolves howl up at the full moon?

Me: Gee…I don’t know. Why?

T: Because root beer makes them burp. (very proud, yet forced, giggles)

Me: (Silent, blank stare) 

T: I don’t really get it.

Me: Whew! Me either. 

Then we both roared with laughter!

Turns out, she was reading the joke from one page, and the punch line from the next, as pointed out by G when she climbed in the car. The two pages should have gone something like this:

Why do werewolves howl up at the full moon?  Because you can’t howl down at the moon!! 

Why do vampires drink blood? Because root beer makes them burp! 

I don’t know about y’all, but I liked T’s version better 🙂



Drive-thru etiquette

         Let me begin by confessing… I am a Chick-fil-A junkie.

     Despite the negative press the chain is receiving lately on social networking sites for their strong religious convictions, charitable contributions to organizations deemed anti-gay and their beliefs about what makes a family, I really love their food. Btw, who knew the Fellowship of Christian Athletes hated homosexuals? Not me, and I was a member in high school, and that point was NEVER covered in the meetings. Seriously.

Apparently, I am somewhat of an anomaly…a Christian who believes marriage should be based on love, rather than sexual orientation. Everyone should have the right to marry the love of their life. Period. Raising a family and creating a stable, happy home environment also has nothing to do with which side your bread is buttered on in my opinion. Therefore, I cannot boycott the business. There. I said it.

Why? Because I’m a Southern girl who managed to hang on to her roots while living in the cultural mecca that is Hollywood. You see, I grew up with CFA back in Bama, and had to wait 15 years for them to open one in Los Angeles, close enough to my home so I could scoot on over there and back in less than an hour…..WITH traffic 🙂 So, to all my beloved gay, lesbian, and bisexual friends, if you see me “check in” on FB at one of the shiny, new CFA locations here in Los Angeles, please don’t boycott me, because I support you 100%. I just need my sweet tea and fried chicken sandwich fix every once in awhile:-) Whew….glad I got that out there!

Now for the point of the post: DRIVE-THRU ETIQUETTE. Last night, I was in line at the CFA in Northridge, with about 25 other cars. I swear they needed their own Rent-A-Cop directing traffic. Not surprising though, I’ve witnessed this before. As usual, I only had about half an hour to make the round trip from the girls’ gymnastics facility to CFA and back. Well….that train got completely derailed by the car 3 ahead of me, when the person pulled up to the menu board and WHIPPED OUT A LIST as long as my arm. As soon as I saw it, I wanted to jump out and scream “You know, they cater. Try calling ahead next time and hauling your a** inside to pick it up!” but I didn’t. Only because 2 of my 3 girls were in the car with me and I didn’t want to cause a scene. Oh, but the fury I could have unleashed had I been childless. They really would have needed a Rent-A-Cop then! But I digress. My point is, the drive-thru is for people IN A HURRY or, those unable to go inside because their children are dressed only in gymnastics leotards and it’s 40 degrees outside. Of course, I was the victim of both things last night. So, if you find yourself being the “food runner” for a group of folks, park and go in…..PLEASE! Because you just never know when a childless, Southern bitch in a hurry  jonesing for some sweet tea might be behind you.

     Although I can say with certainty you’d be safe at McD’s….I hate that place. But watch out at CFA and Taco Bell 🙂

why did you vote for me?

Had to get this one down on paper so all of you can smile as much as I did.

By now, most of you know, I have 3 daughters. All are gorgeous (y’all don’t mind if I brag, do you?) but each one has her own look.  My oldest two little pixies have light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and my baby has very blonde hair and blue eyes. Genes are funny that way. When you least expect it, someone hits the jackpot and lands ALL of the recessive ones.

You see, The Man has dark brown hair and brown eyes like both of his parents, but his paternal grandfather had crystal blue, as did his great-grandmother. As for me, I have hazel eyes. My father had chocolate brown, my mother had blue. Out of 6 biological children, 4 have blue, 1 has brown and 1 has hazel. Go figure. Daddy had dark hair, Mama had blonde. Mine was strawberry blondish as child, and brown as a young girl. Now….well….I…um…rely on the genius of my hair guy Bryan Kelly, to chase away the gray, and harness the color of youth 🙂 But I digress.

There is a  point to this, I promise.

As I was drying my sweet baby girl’s hair yesterday, she says, “Why did you vote for me to have blonde hair?” Stifling giggles, I replied, “Well, I didn’t. God did.”  Puzzled, she replied, “But how did it grow?”. Really? I’m thinking. To the best of my ability I explained that children don’t always look exactly like their parents. Sometimes they look like grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins,….mailmen, etc. Still, she pressed on, almost with tears in her eyes, remarking “But…I’m…I’m the only one. Why did it have to be me?” With that, I hugged her up, and said “Because you are special, and God wanted everyone to know from the moment you were born. Your hair was kissed by the sun, just like Rapunzel‘s!” A huge smile came across her face and those blue eyes twinkled like moon kissed ocean water in the Gulf of Mexico. She was satisfied, and I was thanking my lucky stars for Disney’s movie, Tangled”, which we had just seen. When you speak princess to a princess, you can never go wrong!!

Too funny not to mention.

One of my Facebook friends posted this and I thought it was just too hilarious not to share:  ”I have PMS and a GPS, which means I’m a bitch and I WILL find you”!!  Ever have those days????  RFLMAO….

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