Sunday, December 23, 2012

Random, Ridiculous and Rhetorical Parts of This American Life.

Hey y'all. Well. I don't have much going on today. This will be random. Extremely. Proceed with caution.

How 'bout we start out with this EXTREMELY awesome picture of Tounces and Poopdeck circa 1966?  Don't mind if I do.

Dad was fully prepared for a flood. Or a bike ride. And Mom? Well. She just looks adorable and I can see how she turned the head of that big time senior engineering frat boy despite her freshman status.

Hmm. What else?

Let's see. Somebody was telling me that I'm always positive and always seem to like everything. I am proud that most would think of me as positive. That said, 'tain't true that I like everything. Nope. Don't believe me? Quick! I'll name you five things that I DON'T like or that SUPER ANNOY me. (And it won't include CHEESE because y'all already know that CHEESE smells like feet to me and does not touch my lips.)

Okay. Here's your five:

1.  I don't like it when people finish sentences when talking to another person. You know. The kind where they're listening so carefully to you that they try to predict the last three to four words of every sentence you say? Like it's name that tune. Don't like that. To that I say: Cut. It. Out.

2. I don't like the anti-reflective coating that they put on eyeglasses. Because if you're like me and get new glasses only once every two years, that coating gets streaky and leaves you with this perpetual chicken grease appearance on your specs. Not. Cool. Even worse is that even when I say NO CHICKEN GREASE REFLECTOR STUFF they do it anyway. Like they're doing me some kind of favor. To that I say: Cut. It. Out.

3. I don't think I like it when someone calls my outfit, hairdo, shoes, etc. "fun." There's this woman I encounter regularly who always looks at me and squeals, "Oh my gosh! Your outfit is so FUN!"  Then a few days later she'll say, "Oh, what a fun hairstyle!" My bright green coat was also fun, as were my purple jeans. To that I say: Cut. It. Out.

4. I don't like it when the BHE asks me rhetorical questions. Such as, "Sooooo. . . .are we just . . .no longer eating any fruits for snacks or. . ?"  (That's his way of telling me that we are out of fruit.)  The more annoyed with me that he is, the worse they get. First a preamble: "Sooooo. . . I'm confused about what our gameplan is about keeping our room clean."  Then the question:  "So are we just completely saying EFF IT when it comes to our room in the two days before our housekeeper comes?" Lastly the commentary: "I mean, let me know if that's how things are working because right now it seems like that's what we're doing."


It doesn't help when I reply with, "I was wondering the same thing about the fruits! Because those plums you wanted and those bananas you asked for all went bad. Hmmm. Good question." And the room part, which is clearly referring to the things I have left around and not his military-neat side, I just sort of ignore for as long as possible. Then I try batting my lashes at him to see if I can distract him with my feminine wiles.


But mostly, in my head I'm all like: Cut. It. Out.

5.  I DO NOT like it when little boys and grown men remove pants and underwear together and then leave them intertwined in hampers. Nothing about that makes me happy. In fact, it kind of gives me the heebie jeebies. But on a scale of one to ten, it's only like a three, yet still annoying.

See. I don't like everything. See? Oh. One more. I don't like it when people send text messages that ask for some immediate response on every day unimportant things. Unless it's the kind of thing that is important and genuinely deserves an immediate response, it can be slightly annoying.

Only a two on the annoying-scale of one to ten. But still.

Like, in medicine, we have something called "open ended questions" that we're supposed to ask our patients. Like, "What brings you here today?" or "Can you tell me more about that?"  This is meant to get a verbose answer that allows you to expound. But see, text messages aren't for all that. It's fine sometimes but mostly, I need it to be like a unidirectional tweet for one. I can chime in if I want or keep it moving if I need to. Or respond like two days later. These are the very best kinds.


This doesn't apply to my very best friends. Or immediate family. Or my friends, you know who you are, that have text message bonding as an unspoken part of our bonding rituals. For those people, do whatever you want.

Otherwise: Cut. It. Out.

Ha ha ha ha ha. I am cracking myself up.

I was in the mall with the kids today to see a movie. We walked past the Santa Claus display and I realized that I am a horrible mom who has never taken her kids to get their photo taken with Saint Nick. So I decide to try to right this wrong. "Hey dudes. Want to go get a picture with Santa?"

Zachary looked intrigued for a bit. Only for a bit. Because Isaiah gave the whole concept the GAS FACE. "That dude is SO not the real Santa. Mom. It's December 23. What would Santa be doing up in a mall lobby?" I replied, "But look. He has real white hair growing out of his head and a real beard." Because this mall Santa, like, totally did.

Maaaan. Isaiah waved his hand at the whole display like whatever, man. And walked right on by.

Of course, his baby brother followed his lead. "So not the real Santa," Zachary repeated.


I started to launch into that whole biz about Santa having a bunch of look-a-like helpers that work in malls and yadda yah, but honestly? It wasn't that serious. I'm no Scrooge but I also don't bend over backwards to keep the dream alive. At least not the mall Santa one. So I kind of shrugged and kept it moving.

As far as the Manning boys are concerned, the mall Santa can kick rocks. So if you know any of them, tell them that Isaiah says: Cut. It. Out. (And Zachary does, too.)

My husband doesn't drink red wine. This is annoying because I love red wine. But since I am not a wine-o and I have a job, I can't just bust through a bottle of red on a whim. And. Even when I try to store it as correctly as possible, I never like the taste after a couple--okay one--day after opening-slash-uncorking. Oh well. One of y'all will have to come and drink red with me one of these days.

Yep. What else?

My husband, despite his rhetorical questions and non-red-wine drinking, is a keeper. That man is the BFHE. He so is. Let me tell you, ladies. The other day I was rubbing the under side of where my neck meets my chin and felt what I am certain was some kind of whiskery thing. Yes. This? This was not good. 

Now. If you are over thirty-five, you know that one lone terminal hair growing from or near your face becomes an obsession until it is sho nuff plucked. Let's be clear. I am forty two years-old, so this was NOT the first whiskery thing I have discovered and attacked. But. It was in a very odd place so I couldn't see it even with acrobatic mirror juggling.

Oh just admit it. You're laughing because you've been there with one of those suckers.You rub it. You try to grab it with your finger nails. You almost wreck your car trying to see it at stop lights.

A whisker is worse than texting, I tell you. And don't EVEN judge me as you read this because the only ones who are appalled by this confession are a.) under the age of thirty five and have yet to discover a whiskery renegade, or b.) in complete and utter denial about those things they keep plucking out  every month.

Mmm hmmm.

So y'all! I couldn't get it no matter how hard I tried. It was making me crazy. So guess what I did? I told the BHE. And do you know what that sweet man did for his wife? He grabbed a pair of needle nose tweezers and went to town. Like it wasn't nothing. Yes! He plucked a hair from the under side of my chinny-chin-chin.

Awesome. And so, so very blogworthy.

"Dude. You totally love me. Totally. Wow." This was what I told him. Then we both stared a little bit closer and realized that the hair he is holding in the tweezers appears to be grey.

"Wait. Did I just pluck a grey whisker from my wife's chin?"

And I nodded with pursed lips. "Sexy, huh?"

He just laughed and walked away. And I yelled behind him, "You know you love it!"

Hey. I just thought of something. I think that was on his birthday that he did that for me. Damn. My bad. Hey--what horrifically awesome things have you done for your honey or has your honey done for you? Oh come on. . .you can tell me.

Oh that man of mine. He is something special, rhetorical questions and all. Thank goodness he is now forty two also. His cougar jokes get very old very fast. Ha.

The BHE's birthday was good. Mostly uneventful, which was how he wanted it. "I just want a boring night at home with my wife and kids. That's it, that's all."  We came through big time! Ha.

Oh yeah. He also baby sat our almost two year-old godson last night so that me and Jackson's mama-slash-my bff could go and have us some good girlfriend time. And red wine.

Yay-yuuuh. That was fun. On this picture she was telling me about the Ugg boots she'd just bought earlier that day. And then we talked about the wonderful cocoon they wrap your feet in.


I love my Ugg boots. They are so, so, so comfortable. But The BHE calls my Ugg boots GFD. That's code for "grounds for divorce." In other words, he really doesn't like those things. And did I mention that I have a black and a brown pair? We don't hold grudges in our house. But if he makes me mad, my passive aggressive stealth move always involves my Ugg boots. They also work if I have a headache that night.


Another non-African American person wished me a Happy Kwanzaa. To that I say: Cut. It. Out. (Because the secret is that hardly anyone I know really celebrates it. At least not enough to be wished a happy one more than anyone else.) That made me remember this funny top ten post about cultural holiday celebrations. And of course the holiday post where this whole Happy Kwanzaa thing first came up. Check it out for a good laugh.

Oh! And I went to another Target to find the $99 off camera and guess what? Now it's $149 off. And they had one in stock. Shut the front door. See? Told you it wasn't the end of the world. 

Oh Lord. What a ridiculous post. Completely. Utterly.


I think that's all I've got for now. I'm fixin' to play with my kids. Because Christmas time with a six and a seven year-old is just a whole bunch of fun. Sure is. My friend, Ms. Moon, was talking about "fixin' to" do things on her blog today. I've been thinking that ever since. Even though whenever I do say that, it comes out more as "finna" than "fixing to." I kind of think of Paula Deen when I think of "fixing to."

Yeah. On that note. I'm finna go. Talk to you good people later.

Happy Sunday.


  1. You said:

    Another non-African American person wished me a Happy Kwanzaa. To that I say: Cut. It. Out.

    Why do you say that? Isn't it like a Jewish person wishing me a Merry Christmas? Or me wishing a Hindu friend Happy Divali?

    I hope the question isn't offensive.... I really do want to know.

    Thank you.


    1. Ha ha ha! No Julia! There's a story behind that--the joke is that most of my black friends don't celebrate Kwanza. It's kind of funny that people think we do and wish us a "Happy Kwanza." It's actually not offensive at all. Just funny.

      Admittedly, I have encountered a few who told me on this blog that they do Kwanza. I just haven't before.

      I hyperlinked to the post where I first mentioned that. Very tongue in cheek. Sorry for the misunderstanding and of course, it's cool for people to be understanding of each other and to wish others well during their holidays! Not offensive at all to me when my Jewish friends wish me well at Christmas!

      See? This is why I warn y'all about my random posts! :)

    2. Thank you so much. The post you linked to helped a lot. I've been reading your blog for just a few months, so I don't have a good feel for when you are laughing just yet. But I am enjoying it very much, and I'm learning a lot.


    3. Hey Julia,

      I'm all about cultural competency. And any question you have is always welcomed. Thanks for reading and for feeling comfortable asking. That makes me feel like this is a safe place and like I'm doing something right. :)

      You'll be an old friend in know time -- getting all of my goofy joke. Have an awesome evening.


    4. Shoot--NO time. Not know time.(This is to stop my mother from texting me to tell me that I wrote "know time" instead of "no time" as she is my human spellcheck. That's a whooooole separate blogpost.)

      Wink to you, Tounces.

  2. I like rambly posts.
    And my husband and I had a chin-hair moment the other day. Despite the fact that we've been together since 1983, I almost died of embarrassment. Yes. That is the way I am.
    Merry Christmas, baby. I mean it.

    1. Yes!! I love that Mr. Moon. I cannot believe you were embarrassed. But I do love the image of your almost seven foot husband plucking a renegade whisker out of your chin. Go Mr. Moon!!

      And man, I think I am interested in this egg plant casserole of yours. Send me the recipe if you get a minute.

      And Merry Christmas to you, too. I mean it.

  3. Love the bit about the boys and the mall Santa! Just sent you an email with a pic of the REAL Santa at Central Night Shelter...
    Tomorrow night on Christmas Eve we have a Jewish congregation that comes to spend the night at the Shelter to honor the Christian holy day. The past couple of years they have done their Sabbath prayers in Hebrew before the dinner. Can I just say that I LOVE that...
    and I love you and your family, Coach B

    1. That sounds totally awesome, Coach B. Wow.

      And you know I love you, too. Loved hugging your neck the other day and I promise, I agreed to drive the boys through carpool that morning just so I could.

      xo, Kimberly

  4. Merry Christmas to you and yours, Kim. Oh, and when my doctor asks the open-ended question, What brings you here today?" my reply will be, "Yes."

    1. Ha ha ha, touche.

      I hope you're well. Merry Christmas to you as well, Nicole's mama.

    2. You just walked headlong into an inside joke, and it has filled me, Nicole's mama, with such joy. (Hugs)

  5. All I can say is you are crackin me up! As usual. I turned on some folks to your blog lady and they are lovin it. ;-) Merry Christmas to you and the fam KD!

    1. What up,'92? Awww, I appreciate the love. I live to crack you up, girl! Merry Christmas to you and Team Grant. I love you guys.

      xo, KD

  6. Last time I asked my patient, "What brought you here today?" he replied, "A 1977 Lincoln Town Car."

    I can't get that line out of my head, so now I just ask in my NY accent, "How you doin?":)

    1. Bwwwah ha ha. I once got "The MARTA train." Now I will hear you saying "How you doin?" over and over in my head.

      Happy Birthday to Baby Mackey!

  7. I love a rambling post, too, especially one about small gripes and annoying things. So, I'm with you on the pants/underwear thing. Both boys and husband do that sh**t, and I feel like such a shrew when I ask them not to --

    As far as hairs and chins and such -- well -- I'm forty-nine and have plucked my share.

    1. Ha ha ha. Elizabeth, one of my favorite posts of yours is the one where you wrote the list of things you "hate." Ha ha ha. That made me LOL and I go back to it often because, like me, you're a positive soul. Small gripes feel good to get out sometimes.

      And as for the chin hairs--I hope they weren't grey. I told Mother Nature: Cut. It. Out.

  8. My BHE and I are still newly weds (for another 6 weeks or so!), so the embarrassing stuff isn't supposed to happen yet. Or, at least, it feels like it shouldn't. But pregnancy and childbirth and pancreatitis and postpartum constipation have definitely thrown us our share of the ridiculous and disgusting! You know it's real love when you can clean up your partner's puke and still make moon eyes at each other in the same sentence.

    Merry Christmas, Dr. Kimberly!

    1. Yeah, pregnancy gets pretty hard core. Especially the delivery! I kept asking Harry--while pushing--Oh Lord! Am I pooping? I don't want you to see me pooping!" and he kept saying, "You're not pooping, crazy lady! You're having a baby. Just a baby no poop, I promise!"

      Ha haha. Now that? I couldn't have handled him seeing poop that up close and personal.

  9. Replies
    1. Awesome. That makes my day. That and the fact that you've agreed to keep my kids today. Hee hee.

  10. My #1 Cut. It. Out. is chew with your mouth closed, I don't want to see or hear your food being chewed.
    #2 Boys and men that take their socks off in a "ball" and toss them across the room, what is that about?
    My former husband used to pop back zits and ear zits without a single complaint. That was true love!

    1. Back zits? Wowza. That's hard core, baby. These are very unglamorous yet important jobs.

      And the open mouth chewing? Yes. Cut. It. Out.

  11. This was like a fun visit. So fun! Haha. It really was though.

    A blessed Christmas to your beautiful family.

  12. So you had me running to the bathroom to check out the chin. Chemo killed most of the hair on the rest of my body, but it just took root on my face. I probably should go have it waxed, but...well, I can't think of a real excuse.

    Texts are for "whenever you get around to it". If you need an answer now or if the answer will require a paragraph, that phone makes calls too.

    ohhh, and I promise to at least try not to finish anyone else's sentence.

  13. Haaaaaaa!! Your randomness lifted my spirit today. Thank you for that. D always told me about your blog, mad I slept on it for so long. #4 on your list brought it home for me...cuz my hubby...ughhhhh! lol. And Santa kicking rocks...he is soooo passé with the kids of today. HAAA! I feel good today. :-)

    Put your blogs in a book and watch it top the bestseller list!! -Renee

  14. Cameroonians will often make a point of stopping a sentence early so that the other person can finish it. In fact, adults commonly do it when talking to kids or even when leading talks in a group of people. It instills the idea that the other person was listening enough that they understand you. It goes along with something that's said often - "On est ensemble (We are together)." Just thought I'd weigh in with another cultural perspective. Have a stellar Christmas!

  15. Lol at "finna!" My classmates from Cali always make fun of me for saying it that way! They had me thinking it was a southern thing.

    Merry Christmas Dr. M!



"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan

Related Posts with Thumbnails