Superman and Grits

 

This is me pictured with my cousin Cathy on a visit to their family in Baton Rouge. On this memorable trip, I was first introduced to grits.  It was instant love.  A year or two later Cathy told me Superman had killed himself.  I was sincerely devastated.  If Superman couldn’t deal, what hope was there for the rest of us?

 

Don’t Bother Reaching for Your Umbrella, It’s Probably Broken!

The baby was tiny. I hadn’t seen anything but tonsils, poop, and Sesame Street in three weeks. My three-year-old-jabbered non-stop. My ears were sore. Naturally, with the clear-thinking of a woman with near terminal post-partum depression, I took full responsibility everything that went wrong. I don’t know if my husband was a good father or not, since he

Super Pooper

We had guests  My husband and I were in the kitchen getting coffee and dessert when we heard the couple laughing loudly.  We hurried back in the living room  to find our ten year-old-son had decided to pull a stunt. On a dare, he’d come walking out in front of the guests clad only in his briefs and socks.  He was a big kid, way beyond the point  to expect this.

Shocked, his dad spouted, “”Boy, are you nuts?  Go get your clothes on!”

As he turned to go, he waddled.  The woman exclaimed “Oh my God!”  He had packed a gargantuan lump of Playdoh  (afterwards known as Play Dooky) in the back of his briefs.  It looked liked he’d been holding it for about a week.   Then he reached back and pulled it out to show us, like a prize.  If I’d been offered retro-active birth control, he’d have disappeared then and there.

Vagina, Boobs, and Poop (Part 12)

This post has nothing to do with Vagina, Boobs, and Poop.  I am doing a post on crazy things my mother has said and done and wanted to see if this garnered interest.  Mother is sensitive about her age and height, so I can’t mention the fact that she is past eighty, and “not tall,” but besides that, has said and done some interesting things.   (Links to part 1-11 below)

Killer Tomatoes (Tales from the Toilet)

A well-worn path led down the hill to the toilet located far enough to cut the odor and avoid contamination of our well.  Mama was vigilant about sanitation and shoveled lime into the pit to aid decomposition and screened the open back to foil her chickens who considered the flies and maggots a tempting buffet.  Chickens are not known for their

Not Quite the Proverbial Turd in the Punchbowl

Annie, our surly Dalmatian with gastrointestinal issues was not only a pooping housebreaker (see link below), she was a wedding crasher.  We knew the Craig’s across the street were hosting a wedding, so made a point to give Annie had plenty of time to spend in our yard to conduct business before their guests started arriving at one-thirty in the afternoon. In the interest of being good neighbors, we’d even made a last minute inspection of their yard before the guests arrived, just to make sure she hadn’t left an unwelcome “wedding gift.”

Alerting the family to keep her incarcerated, the whole family was on alert.  Annie was a lazy dog, normally content to sleep the afternoon away, snoring stertorously.  Apparently, the party traffic was disturbing.  She spent her afternoon whining at the back door, dancing with her legs crossed, claiming she had to pee.  We took her out on her leash a time or two, but she came up dry while attempting to escape to the party across the street.  All went well until a neighbor kid came bursting in our back door, releasing Annie just as the wedding party exited the house across the street.  Bowels urgently loaded, she streaked over to join the fun.  In all the excitement of tossing the bouquet, she escaped the crowd’s notice as she laid a prize-winning turd a few feet behind the gaggle of bridesmaids vying for the bouquet.  One of the more top-heavy ones slipped in her offering,  bringing the rest down like a bunch of bowling pins.  Annie scored a perfect strike!  I could have sworn I heard shouts of “Dog-S–T!” rising above that bevy of pastel Southern beauties.  I guess their mama’s didn’t raise them right!

 

Coming up next:  Annie is accused of murder.  Human skull found in our neighborhood and Annie found with detached arm!

Pooping with Brian

Pooping with Brian

I got my daughter a Dalmatian for her thirteenth birthday.  I do believe that was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  For about a day and a half, Annie was sweet.  As soon as she got her bearings,she became a hyperactive, maniacal buzz saw, plundering and eviscerating everything in her path from shoes to the rag top on my husband’s MG, but that’s a story for another post.

Vagina, Boobs, and Poop (Part 11)

This post has nothing to do with Vagina, Boobs, and Poop.  I am doing a post on crazy things my mother has said and done and wanted to see if this garnered interest.  Mother is sensitive about her age and height, so I can’t mention the fact that she is past eighty, and “not tall,” but besides that, has said and done some interesting things.   (Links to part 1-9 below)

Vagina, Boobs, and Poop (Part 10)

This post has nothing to do with Vagina, Boobs, and Poop.  I am doing a post on crazy things my mother has said and done and wanted to see if this garnered interest.  Mother is sensitive about her age and height, so I can’t mention the fact that she is past eighty, and “not tall,” but besides that, has said and done some interesting things.   (Links to part 1-9 below)