Cover of You Might Be a Redneck If
Have you all… Pardon me, y’all. Or better yet, yins, heard that Jeff Foxworthy joke: “You might be a redneck if you mow your lawn and find your car”? (Now you have. You’re welcome.)
Well, it might be time to vacuum your carpet if in it you find six bodies, a hatchet, and a piece of pie. Read the rest of this entry
It’s kind of a shame that our seven-year-old can read so well. When I’m at the computer reading some sordid article or having a private conversation through I.M. on gmail, I have to be sure she isn’t anywhere in eyeshot if I don’t want the inquisitive little bugger to read something inappropriate, scary, or just none of her beeswax.
I never thought I’d have to be concerned about her reading junk mail. When my husband came home and plunked the mail on the counter, G. meandered over and soon started crying. More specifically, she was weeping. She wasn’t sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, she just couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. Why? Because: Read the rest of this entry
Purse, pre-disaster (Photo credit: pit pitoca)
I was babysitting five little kids. Their mom came home and we were talking for a bit. She then went to get her purse and couldn’t find it. As she was going down the hall to her bedroom, I heard her yell. Seems she looked in the bathroom door on her way by and there Read the rest of this entry
(Re)construction of a dinosaur from the bones of a rabbit. Perhaps Eddie should have tried rabbit bones?
Since my mother forbid me to continue digging in the yard for dinosaur bones, I hatched a plan to construct my own dinosaur skeleton.
After weeks of saving and hoarding, my mother followed her nose to my bottom dresser drawer where she discovered my collection of Read the rest of this entry
English: (“tramp stamp”). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Another of my husband’s darling students (see previous story), on a geography test, wrote that the capital of North Dakota was not Bismarck, but Read the rest of this entry
White Toilet Bowl in Malaysia (Photo credit: epSos.de)
When our two boys were about three and seven, we never had more than one working toilet at a time. I don’t know why they felt the need to put foreign objects in them. One day the plumber was “snaking” the toilet and out popped a Read the rest of this entry
When I was a little girl, my mother tells me, I emptied a gallon of molasses over myself and followed it with Read the rest of this entry
Someone’s good kid washing his hands.
My four-year-old doesn’t always take the time to wash her hands after using the bathroom. Because of this, we began asking to smell her hands when she returned. Our scented soap made it obvious with one sniff whether or not her hands were clean.
One night when I asked, she didn’t just hold her hand out an inch or two from my nose, as she normally did. This time she put one hand on my cheek and the other up against my nostrils. Then she said, with a big smile, Read the rest of this entry
Plastic Lei (Photo credit: sandy.redding)
After a luau-themed school picnic, my seven-year-old came home with several different colors of plastic leis. When her two-year-old “Queen of Destruction” sister grabbed a hold of one, she became very nervous. Trying to pull it away would almost ensure a torn lei and asking nicely for its safe return having proved fruitless, she instructed her little sister, “Don’t break or tear it.”
The younger, bent on the mess potential all this frilly plastic could create, but still wanting to be obedient to her big sister, responded, Read the rest of this entry
As though I didn’t already know my two-year-old was a rascal, I caught her with her arm in the child-locked candy drawer, trying to pull something out. I stood nearby with a raised eyebrow, watching her. She spotted me and whispered, seemingly to herself, Read the rest of this entry