Warning! Warning! It's the Wife....

Grumpy got a new phone. Well technically he got Drama Queen's old phone. His was too advanced for his skill set. It required touching the screen and being able to hit the right number, letter or icon. So he downgraded to a standard slider phone. We are all prepay around here. No way would I pay the rates that some of these companies charge for a phone when I can have unlimited for 50 bucks a month.

Grumpy doesn't need unlimited because the only person to call him is me and that's just so I don't have to walk down the hall and bellow up the stairs. Drama Queen needs unlimited text but not so many minutes because she doesn't believe the voice is essential in communicating. Unless of course it's with me and then her voice is going non-stop. So we all have different plans and different phones. When Grumpy downgraded to a phone for dummies he had to switch providers. The old phone was a different one. With this provider he has the ability to download ringtones. To help him out, I introduced him to Phonezoo.

I think that was my biggest mistake. A few minutes later I heard this obnoxious sounding noise from upstairs that resembled the warning signals from Star Trek. I feared what he was doing now. After all I've been listening to his obnoxious email alert for like 3 years now. Who knows what show theme he was downloading.

It was worse than I feared.

He downloaded a ringtone specifically for me. It has all these alert sounds and it makes you think the planet is exploding. Then a voice comes over and yells "Warning, Warning. It's the Wife!!" lovely. That should be quite entertaining to everyone else. Although with those alarms, it would be funny to play on December 21.

He spent most of his day yesterday adding ringtones for everyone he knows. It's like seeing a kid at Christmas. I guess now that he has a phone his brain cells can work he's decided he actually enjoys having a phone.

However, he takes forever to answer the phone now. Apparently he needs to sit and listen to this warning message for a few minutes and snicker to himself. Since he thinks it's the funniest thing on the planet of course. 

Now I need a ringtone that says "IDIOT CALLING"

I'm a Prisoner in my Home....

He's back. Not only is he back, but he's holding me captive in my own home. I tried to go outside last night. When I did he sat there, less than 10 feet away, and stared me down. Neither of us moved for a good 3 seconds. Then I did what any strong and powerful woman would do. I backed up, went inside and shut the door. But I continued to stare him down. I may be a prisoner, but I was going to make him uncomfortable.

I told Grumpy that he didn't want to take the dogs outside. They wouldn't be safe. They, too, were being held captive. Soon Grumpy was beside me. We watched. We waited. He sat there and didn't move. Then he saw us. His eyes met mine and I knew that he knew that I was watching him. Grumpy had a bright idea. He was going to go after him. So he did.

He headed outside and towards the tree. That vicious creature had been coming down. I'm not sure what Grumpy had in mind when he headed out there. Maybe he was going to take him to dinner and a movie. All I know is he walked off the deck and to the tree that held him. He stared up towards him, but he had disappeared. Grumpy then proceeded to circle the tree. Like a lion looking for his prey, he walked around and around looking up the entire time. I think I heard him talking, and I kind of wondered what he was saying, but I kept the door shut so that I was safe. If Grumpy was going down, he was not going to take me with him. I was willing to sacrifice him if that meant freedom for the rest of us.

He didn't have to worry. The creature crawled up the tree and sat at the top. Watching Grumpy circle. Probably laughing and thinking he should come down just to see the dude at the bottom run like a little girl. But he didn't. He just sat there and watched. After about 20 minutes Grumpy decided it was pointless. He came back inside and we went to bed. The raccoon had won the battle.

That does not mean the war is over. It's almost bonfire season and I will be able to enjoy my backyard. That raccoon is going down.

Don't Walk Beside Me and Make Me Look Like a Bad Parent...

Today I slept in. It happens. A lot. I like to say because I work late. That might be half the reason. The other half is likely that concept of avoiding work to begin with. Either way it leaves Grumpy in charge of seeing the child off to school. She lives too close to ride the bus so he has to take her. This gives him ample opportunity to look her over. At this point he can see if her ass is hanging out of her pants. Her D cups are hanging out of her shirt. Or the other little things that could cause a normal and attentive parent to pause. For instance, the fact that their teen daughter looked like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman before Richard Gere bought her a bunch of clothes.

So we go to pick her up at school and she walks out of the building. My mouth drops. The only words I can manage to release from my lips are What is the hell is she wearing? Of course if I were Simon Cowell it would have sounded better and included Bloody Hell, but you get the point. The following conversation ensued as she made her way to the car....

Me: What in the HELL is she wearing?
Him:  I dunno. Clothes?
Me: Does she have on a skirt?
Him: I don't think so. Just pants.
Me: Those are NOT pants
Him: What are they?
Me: They are leggings
Him: Hm, I thought they were pants
Me: When have you EVER seen me buy her spandex pants?
Him:  Well why does she have them?
Me: To wear under her little dress
Him: What is she wearing?
Me: A tank top with a crop top over it
Him: Hm, I didn't notice.
Me: Obviously. You get pissed because she has a boyfriend yet let her leave for middle school looking like she's working the corner.
Him: Well maybe you should pick out her clothes
Me: Maybe you should pay attention to what she's wearing?
Him: I thought it was the style
Me: To look like a prostitute?
Him: Well she's out of school. No big deal.
Me: Except we are going to Walmart. One camera and she will be online tomorrow.

Drama Queen proceeds to get into the car. I proceed to tell her how leggings are meant for under dresses. She tells me what about shirts. I point out that they mean long shirts. Like really long shirts. She shrugs and blows it off. I tell her she can't walk beside me in Walmart. I have no intention of those classy people judging my parenting.

Let There Be .... Brownies...Or Cookies....Or Oreos....What??

In our house it is a priority to be healthy. We want to only eat good foods and exercise regularly. We strive to be as health conscious as possible. When you look at the salads and vegetables we have for dinner you would be ashamed for downing that bag of coconut creme Hershey Kisses by yourself in the closet.

Okay, I can cut the crap. The truth is, we aren't perfect. We eat junk. I would live off of chocolate and coffee with a side of liquor if it were up to me. Did I mention how very good those coconut creme Hershey Kisses actually are? And maybe I was in the closet. Maybe I was in the car waiting on Drama Queen to get out of her youth group. Who knows? Does it really matter?

Anyways, we try. We've been on a mission to try and make a few healthier choices. We have eliminated sweetened drinks. DQ might have a Coke or glass of tea occasionally, but even Grumpy went to diet drinks. A fact he is not proud of. Sometimes we cheat. Sometimes we have a dinner that is less than healthy. Meatball subs anyone? But overall we are making steps. One of those steps was to initiate dessert night. Now those Sundays in the car do not count. Our abolishing chocolate and other sweets from the daily menu only counts when Drama Queen is present. Since technically she INSIDE the church and I am OUTSIDE the church, it means I'm free and clear.

That said, we don't cheat between dessert nights. Really it should be called Crazee Lady, DQ and the Mom's feast. Grumpy could care less about dessert night. Most days. Yet it seems the week that I am wishing I had a chocolate IV. The week that I would kill my mother for a candy bar. The week that I offered to take care of a friend's ex for a lifetime supply of chocolate. THAT would be the week he give's a rats ass.

Yesterday I get an email from him. Yes he's located upstairs. We believe in communication. It says something about Slutty and I'm thinking what in the sam hill hell has he sent me now. Then I open it. It is a divine recipe from the Londoner called Slutty Brownies. Are you seriously kidding me? We are an entire week away from dessert night and he is going to send me that?? Brownies, cookies and oreos in one? With the promise of ice cream on top? The one thing that will kill me dead in my tracks.

He is a jackass and has joined my hit list. I will add him to the 'taking care of the friend's ex' list for free. I will bury them together. This is his punishment.

And dessert night has now been moved. It officially occurs today.