Camera Ham

MiniMe loves to Bogart my camera and run around the Haus taking obnoxious pictures of herself. (As well as others of us, but those get deleted pronto! because at my age, only pictures with good lighting & proper warning are going down in the history of our family photo albums, or on FaceBook.)

I usually discover that MiniMe has been über-busy clicking & snapping when I attempt to upload photos and it takes forever because there have been 157 pictures taken since . . . uh, 12 hours ago.

Here's a sampling of what most of those 157 photos may look like:



She's defintely the Poster Child for something. Perhaps . . .

A) Yuck! Broccoli!

B) But, I don't wanna take a bath right now!

C) Eat more fiber.

D) Birth control. Just saying.

E ) Eeewwww. Somebody just farted!

F) Have you hugged your dork today?

I know that every mother dork duck thinks her duckling is the fluffiest & most gorgeous. Of course MiniMe is a CutiePatootie.

And, I have the pictures to prove it.

Competitive Moving - We Win

A few days ago I happened to glance across the street & noticed this scene:

My neighbors are packing up to move to Germany. And, as jealous as I am about that, I did take a moment to be really glad it wasn't me on the receiving end of an overseas move. Or any move for that matter.

I said to myself:
Hey, SavvySelf, just looking at that makes me want to vomit & hyperventilate.

My SavvySelf agreed (which is really fortunate since we are one in the same & if we didn't agree, we'd probably be diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder & we I would need more therapy than what the occasional blogging can deliver).

Anyway, later that same day, Man waltzed in the door from a hard day's work and commented that just looking at the Trucks & Crates gave him heart palpitations.

I agreed with him (which is also very fortunate) & explained that I had the same kind of visceral reaction just thinking about a move. I also pointed out that I was extremely thrilled that another one wasn't in the immediate future. And, by immediate I mean not until next summer. Because that's what you told me, that's what the Military wants, and next summer at the earliest, right? Right?

And, I really have no desire to compete for the Gold in the
Military Moves Olympics. Silver is just dandy with me.

His answer . . .

Unless I get another job within the HQ. Then we can leave in February.

Wha . . . Huh?

Surely he's just joking? You know, just kidding?

Seriously? Really?

Excuse me while I . . . bluughck! Breathe in, breathe out.breathe.breathe.in.out.in.out.in.out . . . Anyone have a brown paper bag handy? Bluughck!

No Butts About It

Bright and early this morning (unfortunately for me, before any caffeine or wine),
I bee-bopped down the stairs, sauntered into my kitchen and was greeted by this:

Yes . . . this is a broken toilet seat on my kitchen table.

And, no . . . I didn't stage this just for giggles & grins.

While I prefer not to think of the condition of trashy trailers, circa 1973 other homes that may have a similar kitchen decor, I did wonder if anyone wants to play another round of Name that Picture.

Please choose your fave from the following captions:

A - Your digestive system. Where it begins . . . and ends.

B - Gee, Frau, that the Cream-of-Something-Casserole tastes like crap.

C - Hey, Savvy, I hate to eat & run . . .

D - Wilkommen to HausFrau's Kitchen! Please seat yourself.

E - Today's Special: Poo-Poo Platter $13.95

F - Friendly reminder: the diet starts today!

G - Shhhh . . . It Happens.

H - The Do-Run-Run-Run . . . The Do-Run-Run . . .

I - Etched into the table with a steak knife: For a good time call Jenny 867-5309

J - HGTV Host: And, to tie the theme all together, use toilet paper for napkins.

K - Mmmmmm! Fiber.

Quit While I'm Ahead

Over the last two days I have spent quite a few hours hanging out with these guys:

I know, they are just about as cute as they can be. And, they are ready for First Grade! Actually, they are just ready for summer and you can feel the buzzing and excitement as it oozes out of every pore.

Yesterday, I was buzzing right along with them for Field Day. Apparently, I managed to impress the right person & got myself assigned to the Tattoo Station. For those who have been paying attention: a little removable body art is more my style than, say . . . relay races or stupid water games.

Today at the Kindergarten End-of-Year Party (sniff, sniff), my luck held & I finagled Craft Table Duty -- far away from water games & smack dab in the middle of a shady patch of lawn. I even managed to avoid SnoKone Duty and Hold The Rope for Limbo Duty. Once again, the Volunteer Fairy was tossing pixie dust and sparkles all over me.

I mean, if you are going to volunteer to work with kids, can it get any better than Shady Craft Duty?

Probably not.

Can it get any worse?

OK, I'll just tell you what happened . . .

One particular cutie-patootie, while working away on her craft (decorating foam sun visors with foam stickers, if you must know), announced with extreme excitement . . .

Hey, I just coughed & out flew a loogie!

Thinking the absolute worst, I asked very slowly and with extreme urgency . . .

OK, SweetHeart, exactly which way did the loogie fly
& where did it land?!

Yes, I actually said that out loud. With witnesses.

Thankfully, what didn't land on her shirt was dripping down between her fingers. Hello, people! A loogie landing on anyone else but me is something to be very thankful for. I also have gratitude in my heart that Loogie Duty only required that I escort the princess to the potty.

Just to be on the safe side though, I'm not going to volunteer for any activities involving small children for a while. Thankful is one thing. Pushing your luck is something entirely different.

And, I really don't want to go there.

The Savvy Shopper

I recently made the necessary journey out to the World's Busiest & Most Profitable Commissary. Thanks to extremely poor planning on my part, I made this voyage on a Friday.

A pay-day Friday.

I know, I should have better things to do. Like scrub a toilet. Or vacuum. Or menu-plan around 3 chicken nuggets, leftover taco meat, 3 frozen blueberry waffles & German mustard.

Needless to say, the commissary was a cluster f**k little bit crowded. If I wasn't dodging other shopping carts & bumping into small children, I was doing my best to maneuver around the retiree population & their walkers.

Oh, the elderly crowd . . . some of them are the sweetest little old people. Others are quite crabby & should double-up on their mood elevators before they commissary shop on a Pay Day Friday.

Some are just downright entertaining . . .

Harriet (pushing her walker in front of her): Hey Herbert! Remember: You need your prune juice. Better get the big bottle.

Herbert: Good Lord, Harriet! Why don't you just announce to the world that I am constipated?

Me Thinking: Harriet, I could have gone all day without knowing about Herbert & the Prune Juice. Thankyouverymuch.

And, what commissary trip would be complete without the MOPS (moms of preschoolers) crowd shopping with their broods? Pushing those impossible to maneuver dumb ass car carts. First the kids beg to ride in them. Then they get bored with being good and sitting quietly in the car just after passing by the banana display. By the time mom pushes past the Hamburger Helper, the kids are hanging off the top of the cars & moms are threatening bodily harm. And, I'll put those Princess Gummy Snacks right back on the shelf, missy, if you climb on the top of the car one. more. time. Now, sit. down.

Then there are creative moms who are obviously oblivious to the sanity of the rest of us. One mom started out gaining my admiration when she suggested that her three kidlets follow right behind her in a straight line. (I know, shopping on Pay Day Friday with 3 kids in tow . . . it's the reason someone invented margaritas.) She'd be Momma Duck & they'd be the Ducklings.

It's was a great idea.

Right up until it wasn't.

I wanted to bop Momma Duck right smack in the middle of her forehead with a big can of crushed tomatoes when she pushed the envelope a bit too far:

Momma Duck: And, everybody can quack like ducks!

Seriously, could we not just walk like ducks and be done with it?

On the cereal aisle: Quack! Quack! Quack-quack-quack!

On the lunch meat aisle: Quack, quack! Quack!

Three aisles over by frozen pizza: Quack! Quack! Quack!

Then there was Little Johnny's Mommy. It took me a while to figure out what game she was playing, but I'm on to her and her kind now. At the first overhead announcement, I felt badly for her & her obvious panic of a missing child . . .

Attention, Commissary Shoppers. We have a lost little boy, about 3 years old, in the manager's office. He is wearing a bright orange shirt, navy blue shorts & says his name is Little Johnny.

(Quack! Quack!)

I just knew the worried mom would be relieved to know that her child was safely tucked away in the Manager's Office. I almost felt the relief for her. But, five minutes later at the second announcement,

Attention, Commissary Shoppers. We STILL have a lost little boy, about 3 years old, in the manager's office. He is wearing a bright orange shirt, navy blue shorts & says his name is Little Johnny.

No sigh of relief for me or the panic-stricken mom. According to the PA announcer, mom and child had yet to be reunited. I was actually looking around the store for some worried mom climbing over shopping carts, dumb ass car carts & old people walkers making a beeline for the Manager's Office.

(Quack! Quack!)

However, five minutes later at the third announcement, it occurred to me what was really going on.

Yep, 15 minutes ago Little Johnny had been the one climbing on top of a dumb ass car cart & while Little Johnny's Mom was price comparing Honey Nut Cheerios vs. the Bagged Knock-Off, he wondered off.

Once she noticed that Little Johnny escaped, that woman, not missing a beat, immediately began power shopping and racing up the bread aisle and down the juice aisle, tossing WonderBread & JuicyJuice into her cart. By the time the first announcement was made, she was halfway down the pickle aisle, having conquered Valasic.

Knowing Little Johnny was safe & sound in the Manager's Office, she power-walked down the chicken nugget aisle. At the second announcement, she was on an all out mission to finish up shopping in peace & quiet. As she raced down the dairy aisle, throwing yogurt & cheddar into her cart, she nearly flattened Herbert as he stocked up on Activia.

(Quack! Quack!)

By the third announcement she was chunking hotdog buns & Cheetos into her shopping cart. Wiping her sweaty forehead at the end of her childless SuperMarket Sweep, she "frantically" headed to the Manager's Office to fetch Little Brat Johnny and then made her way to the check-out line.

Hey, I think it's a brilliant plan - especially if you can get away with it.

(Quack! Quack!)

After all the drama with prune juice, ducks & "accidentally" misplaced kids, I was ready to check out (of the grocery store, silly). I kid you not when I say the line was long.

Well, how long was it, Savvy?

It was so long that I had to wait in line UP aisle 17 and back DOWN aisle 16 before I made it to the zig-zag line in front of the registers. Yep, it was so long that a regular civilian store would be out of business because of the insane lines.

So, while I waited in line I entertained myself with Shopping Cart Psychoanalysis. It's a little game I invented where I guess a person's life circumstances based on what items are in their shopping carts.

For instance,

Oma and Opa are waiting in line with a cart full of Eggo Waffles, Fruit Loops, Popcicles, hot dogs, Pringles and Oreos. My obvious analysis: the grandkids are visiting this weekend.

Ralph is standing in line with his HotPockets, PopTarts, Lean Cuisines, diet Mt. Dew & individually wrapped frozen burritos. HausFrau's opinion: The divorced bachelor is making his weekly shopping trip.

Debbie is waiting to pay for her chicken nuggets, boxed mac & cheese, cheerios, hot dogs, Similac, Pampers and 3 gallons of double chocolate chunk icecream. Savvy suggests: Hubby is deployed she's existing on chocolate ice cream.

Pam's cart if chocked full of red wine, chocolate, Lay's potato chips, cheddar cheese, cheesecake, frozen cheese pizza and Midol. The obvious conclusion: Hubby is deployed, she's PMSing & the kids are getting frozen pizza for dinner, damn it.

Carla (who can stand to lose a few) is loaded up with fresh veggies, fish filets, bottled water, fat free yogurt, chicken breasts & fat free dressing. You guessed it: the diet starts today. But Debbie is her neighbor . . . so the diet probably ends today too.

Bob is in line waiting to purchase strawberries, cucumbers, red bell peppers, pesto sauce, cream of mushroom soup, Montreal chicken seasoning, whole wheat bread, ricotta cheese, garbanzo beans and red wine vinegar. Apparently: Bob's Frau sent him to the store with an detailed shopping list so that she can cook a few meals this weekend. He puzzled over the list as he knew he couldn't find some of the items & wonders how much trouble he'll be in at home. Dude, if it was up to him, he'd be buying HotPockets, PopTarts & frozen burritos. And, what the hell is pesto sauce anyway?

Jane is buying one cart full of hot dogs, buns, condiments and individual variety pack of chips. The other cart is full of bottled water, juice boxes, 2 liter bottles of soda and cookies. We all feel for her because: the soccer team is having an end of season party this weekend and she's in charge of feeding everyone.

Julie is purchasing Pepsi, Doritos, bacon, sausage, cheddar, biscuits, eggs, hotdogs, ketchup, frozen french fries, mayonnaise, pancake syrup, Little Debbie snack cakes, chocolate milk, Cookie Crisp & Lucky Charms, hamburger meat, peanut butter, Fritos and bean dip. My analysis: the problem is probably not her thyroid.

Once you start minding everyone else's business, it's amazing how quickly you fly through that long check-out line. The best part of this trip . . . I was done and neither Little Johnny nor the Ducklings were going home with me. Nor was I going home with Prune Juice Dude.

The worst part . . . it set me back $200. And, I'll have to do this all over again in 2 weeks.

Tell me your honest opinion, would it be so bad to have a nice glass of red wine before my next trip? And another on the cereal aisle? Perhaps another over by the chicken nuggets? And while waiting in line . . .