This morning my neighbor, Michelle, was telling me that her young daughter, "Miss M",  was starting basketball practice for a local rec league tonight.  Because of this, Michelle told her daughter that she would rearrange her work hours so she could be there to watch the practice.   To this remark, "Miss M" told her mom that she should TRY  to "look cool".   Michelle was somewhat surprised by this statement because, like me, she all ready thought she was cool.    "Miss M" went on to inform her mother that sometimes "your hair is sticking up and you look like Jimmy Neutron" , a Cartoon Network character.   Truthfully, Michelle shouldn't be too upset with the comparison to "Jimmy Neutron".   (Jimmy is actually kinda high-tech cool!)  And  resembling "Jimmy"  is  SO much better than my familial resemblance to the Cryptkeeper from the "Tales From The Darkside" TV series!  Of course, my peers in the geriatric set, who actually know who the Cryptkeeper is, might think my resemblance to this character is cool...who knows.

Anyway,  I told Michelle that perhaps she should ask "Miss M"  if she knew of a "school for cool"  where us uncool moms could learn to be cool.  Or maybe I should say where we could re-learn coolness.  Because  I'm pretty sure that somewhere back in time, both Michelle and I were one of the "cool people"!  I'm not sure what happened to our "coolness", I guess time and gravity changes everyone.

Then again, maybe Michelle and I should consider that the fact that our names are on the "uncool membership list" is actually kind of cool!  I'm happy with it.

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On Friday my granddaughter, Breezy, was carrying some can goods in to school to donate to the Food Bank.  I mentioned to my neighbor, David, that Breezy was struggling to carry her bookbag because of the weight of the canned goods.  David said he was unaware that the kids were asked to bring in donations.

David went on to say that they had lots of stuff that they could have donated because his wife, Michelle, had  recently decided that she should take up grocery shopping.  (A job he normally does.)  He went on to say that Michelle had also recently taken up cooking.  But, that she still needed help finding the kitchen sometimes.

Of course, me being me, a somewhat jaded, much OLDER housewife,      I couldn't help but think that I needed to have a talk with Michelle!   Help finding the kitchen?  Michelle, you need to do as I do...demand a Yahoo map with directions to the kitchen, then swear that the last two turns were wrong, as usual.   (Of course, I have no problem finding the kitchen to get my coffee...I guess my sense of direction improves  when the coffee is brewing. Go figure.)

I recall one week where I cooked at least 3 times.  By then I had reached the limits of my domestic-ness.  But wanting my kids to at least temporarily think that I was turning into a "June Cleaver, dinner-on-the-table-every-night-mother"  on the 4th night,  I actually asked them what they wanted for dinner.  They voted for hamburgers and french fries.   Because I care... I promptly sent Jack to Burger King to fetch it for them!

What I am trying to say, Michelle, is that learning to cook is fine. We do have to eat afterall.  The mistake is in letting your family know that you CAN cook.  If they know, then they EXPECT  that you will be cooking dinner for them.   So if you must cook, do it only 2-3 times a week...that way it seems as you are giving them a "treat" because they are so special!   And on the 3rd or 4th day...send David to BK.

:)

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I am a charter member of an on line club for the "domestically impaired."   Over the years a few of the newer members have "suggested" that I exaggerate the messiness of my house.  One young lady said, "I bet your house is neat and clean... like a page from Better Homes & Gardens!  And I bet you mop the kitchen floor on a regular basis!" 

Feeling that I had to defend my star status as the most domestically impaired member of  this club I replied:

"No, no, no!  You'll not find anything closely resembling neatness at my house.   My house looks lived in...so what if it looks like the entire population of NYC lives here.  Mop the kitchen floor?  Sure, when all the soda spills super glue my socks to the floor and I keep walking but the socks don't.  Then, and only then do I consider mopping the kitchen floor.  And SOMETIMES  I actually even do it!  Nope. Nothing remotely close to neatness here.  Just the thought of you inferring that I am neat would have me laughing my socks off, if they weren't all stuck to the kitchen floor!" 

:)

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Not long ago my son, Larry, brought home 3 dozen doughnuts from Krispy Kreme.  (A dozen were free with a coupon.)  I was waiting for my  "IQ points" to finish brewing when his wife, Ann, informed me that the "Hot To Go" sign had been on and that I should come get a doughnut while it was still warm.  So, I walked into the kitchen and there was only one box on the table containing 10 doughnuts.  (I know what they did.  They know that I usually eat 2 and Jaime and Jack eat 4 each. So they counted out that amount and then absconded with the rest!)

"Where are the rest?" I asked Ann.

She told me that the rest were in  their room.

I replied, "Larry told me that he couldn't afford to pay me the $16 that he owes me because he needed gas money to get to work next week.  So technically, it looks like the doughnuts were bought with the money he owes me.  So again...where are the rest of the doughnuts?"

Ann just looked at me and walked away.  A bit later when Larry came out I told him the same thing that I told his wife.

"And what about the coupon? I had one of those."

"So did I." he said.

"Well son, can you prove you used YOUR coupon and not mine?"

"No, but can YOU prove it was your coupon and not mine?" he asked.

Dammit!  I thought, this kid has been around me too long and knows exactly how to counter my statements.   I would have to get tough if I was gonna win this debate!

"No. I can't prove that it was my coupon that you used....but that only leads back to my argument that "technically" it was money owed to me that paid for these doughnuts.  So,  where are the rest?"

The coward headed to his room mumbling about "someone" having a possible obsession with Krispy Kreme Doughnuts.

Okay maybe I am a little KK obsessed. But, I'm pretty sure that one of the  other boxes probably contained a raspberry filled doughnut that I was kind of craving.  And  yes, it was  too freaking early in the morning to be debating doughnuts.  However, I think the money owed was a good point!  Don't you? On the strength of that point alone I believe I won the debate. 

But, I never did get anymore doughnuts.

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Not long ago I wrote about my daughter's sense of humor in telling her boyfriend, "I don't think you love me...at least not as much as I love me!"

Last night I realized that the girl obviously has a wicked sense of humor.  She was on the phone to her boyfriend, as usual, when I heard her say, "I need to talk to you about something serious.  I've really been struggling with this. And I have mixed feelings about even saying this to you."  

Of course, I thought maybe she really was going to break up with him since both of them will be heading to college next year.  And just filling out the applications and looking for grants is sooo time consuming.  Really doesn't leave a lot of time for relationships. I could picture the poor guy steeling himself for whatever news she was about to deliver.  But, then she said...

"I really do have mixed feelings about saying this but I think you need to be told....I AM amazing!" 

Luckily, for her sake,  he loves her sense of humor and thinks she is amazing too.

;)

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One of the new bloggers here, " Sandy Springs...", is a transplant from Georgia.  I was reading one of her blogs where she mentioned  " a true Southern woman" and BBQued ribs. It made me think  that perhaps I have been away from my Georgia/Tennessee roots for too long because I don't like BBQued ribs.  Nor do I like grits, pinto beans, or  cornbread (unless it's the sweet kind).  And just the thought of breaking cornbread up into a glass of buttermilk turns my stomach. (Sorry Dad.) 

Perhaps the supposed image of a Southern woman varies by location?  A Texas friend of mine says in keeping with her Southern Belle persona, she sometimes sits on her veranda and sips Mint Juleps.   Well...okay. If I were better educated and  knew my anatomical terms better perhaps I'd know just where my veranda was located.  But, since my southern roots are in the hills of Tennessee mostly ,  I normally just sit on my  fat butt and drink beer. (But,  if I were to go ask Uncle Edgar,  I KNOW he could teach me the recipe for Moonshine, and probably even give me a jar to take home.)  

Truthfully, I am very proud of my southern heritage and not all has been forgotten.  I love biscuits and gravy and fried okra.  I still say y'all and I reckon.  I recall  that when my Grandmother said, "The grocery store is a fur-piece."  She meant it was miles away.  I know she lived in "the holler".  And that "Slyvester" and my granddaddy made "shine" down in the gulch.

Most importantly, in keeping with the true mark of having roots deep in the Tennessee hills, sometimes it's years before any new friends or neighbors realize that I ACTUALLY do own a pair of shoes! 

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My daughter, Jaime and I were both sitting in the computer room when her boyfriend came over to visit .  I was concentrating on my stupid computer game and not paying much attention to her and her guy friend when suddenly I heard her say , "Baby..."  ( Okay, that's not really his name but that's what she called him.)  I noticed this quiet yet serious tone to her voice and thought oh hell, I guess I should leave the room.  Although I was unaware of any problems in their relationship, it sure sounded like she was using her "we have a serious problem that we need to discuss voice."    Unwilling to abandon my stupid game mid-board I sat at my desk and braced myself for whatever teen angst was about to occur.

Jaime continued, "Baby, I just don't think that you love me...at least not as much as I love me."

I had to laugh!  And I informed her boyfriend that that statement was probably true!

Obviously this young lady has a slightly twisted sense of humor!

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A few weeks ago another pamplet from a cleaning company arrived in our mailbox.  My husband Jack carried the mail in.  He was looking through it and said, "Oh. I believe this is for you."  "What is it?" I asked.  He said, "It says the wrong people are cleaning your house."  Then he handed the pamplet to me. 

Almost instantly I tossed the pamplet onto the coffee table.  I looked at Jack and said, "AIN'T no people cleaning my house.  And I agree...THAT'S just WRONG!"

:)

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This morning my oldest son's wife, Dorothy,  called to voice her opinion on the blog that I wrote yesterday. Seems she believes that should either of my daughters-in-law receive a Christmas present from me that it should be her.  She says, "I've been your daughter-in-law the longest."  (This is true.)  She also said, "I have a job. And I DON'T live with you!"  (Both points, also true.)  I suppose that her seniority should count for something. And the NOT living with me is a very good point!  But, I haven't a clue why she would want TWO bus tickets to Carolina?  Or a job application since she all ready has a job?

You know, it seems like  there should be some way that I can take advantage of this daughters-in-law rivalry!   ;)

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November first...and some of the kids are all ready talking about Christmas!  Today my  live in daughter-in-law  said, "Mom, do you know what you can get me for Christmas?"  I quickly reminded her that she may not want to go there.   Last year when she asked that very same question, I answered, "A bus ticket home?  A job application?"  Of course, neither of those were on her Christmas list.   I suppose that since she and my son got married a few months ago this years gift offer should include TWO bus tickets back to Carolina or a job application for her. 

She says I'm mean to her.   I think she says that because of the incident last  year when I asked her to crawl under my desk and plug in my printer. On the way out she bumped her head pretty hard.  She quickly said, "I'm all right."    I replied, "I don't recall asking."   I do believe she's holding a grudge against me.  That's probably why she doesn't appreciate my gift offers!  ;)

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