Blog Name Vote Results

Of the 20 blog name offerings, 15 got votes. I will not say what they are, so those who submitted the other five won’t be sad. (I, the only one who truly matters 😉 enjoyed ALL your submissions.)

The ones that received three votes were as follows:

Chick Kick; Life is Funny; Chex Mix, Chickens, and Other Tales; All Things Betsy; and I Have Nothing Better to Offer.

Next, there were two that received four votes:

Laugh Lines and The Accidental Rooster.

And the winner, with a whopping eight votes, due to his overwhelming cleverness as evidenced in his own blog post titles, never mind that this contest was his idea, no doubt because he knew he would rock it, is….

A couple of short funnies and a missed opportunity. Maybe.

I relayed to Hubby a conversation with a friend about how I wasn’t particularly interested in living to a ripe old age. She responded snippily, “Then I hope you die young.”

Hubby lovingly responded: “Too late for that.”

~~~

I was listening with earbuds to one of my new favorite songs, “Trees” by Twenty One Pilots. (Linked to save you the trouble, M.) The last few seconds pretty much enrapture me. I was thus fully engaged when Hubby came over and said something I didn’t hear. I held up a “just a moment” finger, not wanting to interrupt those last few glorious seconds.

Then I felt like a jerk, so I pulled out an earbud to listen to him. “So we only got one egg today? Bummer,” and he walked away.

Go take a hike

On our family hike, I found myself carrying the backpack and the extra water bottle, so naturally I had to tease my husband: “Sure, sure. I carried our kids for nine months each, I might as well carry everything else now too.”

He said, “Well, since you have all that experience…”

He was joking, of course. He then took the bag and bottle from me.

When we came across this in the parking lot, my little Joe said, “Someone dropped their fire candle.”

He’s a descriptive kid.

Anybody go on any walking adventures recently? Spot anything interesting/pretty/weird?

No greasy fingers here, Mom.

I allowed my son to eat popcorn, but I wanted him to do it in his high chair. That way, his greasy fingers would be staying put, not potentially running along my sofa.

My son did not want to eat his popcorn in his high chair. He wanted to be free to roam.

And so he found a solution. He would eat his popcorn chair-free and hands-free.

“Look, Ma! No hands!”

I suppose I should applaud his problem solving skills.

Hubby picked up our hold items from the library, including this item:

Uuuuuumm…

“What’s this?” I asked him.

“Looks like it’s called Predators,” he helpfully tells me.

“I see that, but why did you bring it home?”

“It was on the hold shelf. You must’ve ordered it.”

I had not. It was clearly misfiled. I’m not sure if him thinking I had actually ordered this movie says more about him or more about me.

Do you have a favorite unexpected movie or genre?

[I did see the original Predator, actually, and can quote lines from it even, but that’s the extent of Predator movies for me.]

Human Jungle Gym, Part 2: A Happy Medium

Here’s Hubby’s latest approach to working from home with a toddler:

(If you missed it, here’s Part 1.)

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As you click through the slideshow, note Hubby’s concentration. Working through distractions is a learned skill.

That last pic is just for fun, so you can have your “Awwwww!!!” moment once you get a load of that kid’s eyes!

My final offering is in honor of fellow blogger, tref, because when I saw this pic, I was reminded of those I see of him looking at his restaurant food. I get extra points, however, because my sweater perfectly matches my deep fried matcha green tea ice cream, which was, by the way, delicious.

Thank you for reading. Which pic did you enjoy the most? Eat anything extra tasty lately?

Blog clean up

When looking for a story to post this week, I checked my plethora of drafts where I’ve housed snippets of funny things to save for later.

It’s later.

So prepare yourself for a series disjointed stories while I clean up my draft folder. For instance:

Losing your pet spider

“I forgot to tell you,” my husband says, “When I was in my office today, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and there was a spider on my shoulder.”

My eyes widen in horror.

“It was just a little one.”

My eyes relax a smidge.

“My first thought was to brush it off, but then I remembered this is October. I’ll just walk around and introduce it to people as my pet.”

“Hewoo. Will you be my fwend?” [Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay]

“But then I forgot.”

Me: “You forgot?”

“Yeah. I must’ve gotten distracted. I forgot all about it.”

“So what happened to the spider?!”

Kids grow up so fast.

One day my son is two. The next day he eats cold pizza for breakfast, so apparently he’s now in college. [My husband was on breakfast duty that day.]

My husband was googling what to do when your paint cans won’t close securely, so I asked him, “How did we find things out before Google?” He said, “We talked to people. This is much better.”

Friday wisdom

Those of you who follow Andrew Reynolds’ blog know that I’m blatantly stealing his post idea. (Flattered, Andrew?) His hilarious Friday posts are often “wisdom” from his father. Since my children’s father imparted wisdom on them recently, I couldn’t resist this post.

My husband and three daughters were at Costco when one of them spotted a dime on the floor. Soon another found two pennies, and the other a quarter. Next it was another penny and a dime.

My husband said, “We should find out who’s dropping this money. And follow him.”

What do you do when you find a coin on the floor?

A. Pick it up.

B. Leave it.

C. Turn it head side up to give someone good luck.

Birthday Bashing

On my birthday, one of the girls asked for a bedtime story. So naturally I said, “Thirty-nine years ago today, the most wonderful mom in the world was born.”

My husband added: “And so was Betsy.”

(Reminiscent of the famous choosing a cat story, don’t ya think?)

Hubs texted me that day: “Do you have a cake?”

Me: “No.” I mean, if I had one, I’d have had to bake it myself. So, clearly no. Which was fine with me. Just show me to the nearest ice cream. But he said, “No wife of mine isn’t going to have a baked good on her birthday.”

He turned up after work with six mini fruit pies from Walmart. Fifty cents each.

Who says the romance is dead?

You’ll note there are only five pies pictured. The sixth, an additional apple pie, was left out. That’s my husband’s favorite. He bought two of those. I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

I leaned to the side so as not to mar the view of my single candle (to reflect the age I act) and my little “Happy Birthday” sign.

And I missed the