Busted

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

I always thought later meant after HausFrau becomes a top-rated sitcom & I get to make the Oprah-Letterman couch rounds as being the real Savvy.

But, I didn't make it to later because sooner happened this past Friday. I actually met someone (for the very first time, mind you) in real life who very quickly put 2 & 2 together and totally guessed that that my Internet alter-ego is Savvy.

Even as I sit here writing this, I am amazed. I was picked out of a crowd of thousands & thousands of HausFrauen out here in the DC 'Burbs & drug out of my secret Internet hidey-hole.

Here's how the event went down:

I show up at the elementary school Friday morning to chaperone the 1st graders on a walking field trip. I'm looking all cute in my Happy Halloween shirt & brand-spanking new hair color (red is such a hot color for a HausFrau). While we waited for the kinder to get ready for the field trip (just another reason to thank God for those teachers who love their elementary jobs!) I begin to mingle with some of the other parents & surprisingly, a mom introduced herself to me.

Y'all know that I immediately assumed she must be military because the NoVA natives don't tend to gravitate toward me & ask things like . . . my name. Or whose mom I am.

Over the next 45 minutes of our walking field trip, I chit-chatted with Matt'sMom as the logistics of herding 21 first graders 1.5 miles would allow. As could be predicted, it eventually came up in conversation that we Rockin'Bauers only moved to the DC area from Belgium as recently as February.

Matt'sMom, wow. . . let me tell you, nothing gets past this woman. She could probably bust up a few terrorists cells without breaking a sweat. And, frost cupcakes for a class party. All in a day's work, right?

Anyway, no sooner than the word "Belgium" came out of my mouth, she wanted to know if I knew her friend, Red (Hi Sandra! Know & love you!) & ooooohhhhhhh,

then she wanted to know if I was the one with the blog.

Uh . . .

The one with the blog?

Uh . . . oh!

Seriously, she figured that out from my casually mentioning that I lived in Belgium? I suppose it could have been worse. She could have blurted out: OMG, you're Tampon Woman! Hey, everyone, it's Tampon Woman & who decided to let her be the Room Mama?! Does the principal know?

I do believe that I now have two options:

1. I have to homefool school MiniMe, give up my job as 1st Grade Room Mama & lay low (very, very low) until we PCS again.

Or,

2. Matt'sMom is my new DC BFF because there is a real possibility that she knows way too much. (Hi, Rachel - Sandra vouched for you on Facebook. Maybe she'll vouch for me too? If not, are you interested in the Room Mama job?)

Carded

It happened again.

And this time I had a witness.

Man & I made a recent trip to Costco to purchase Laze-E yet another iPod. With her money. This time the new Nano. In pink.

I had a splitting headache but made the necessary trip so that my oldest blessing from heaven could have music for a very long Band Bus Trip the next day. Splitting headache, on a mission to get an iPod, at a super warehouse, late on a Friday afternoon. It's the recipe for a good time, I tell ya.

Even a headache didn't stop me from enjoying the best part of Costco: the food samples. As Man & I sashayed around the back of the store for appetizers, he found & had to have a case of Hofbrau Oktoberfest Bier. I'm all for a little German culture, so no objection from me. Although I would have preferred a Dunkel. Preferably, Winklerbrau Kupfer Spezial, straight from the middle-of-nowhere Bavaria.

Eventually, we pushed past all the other shoppers and waited to check out. Man with his bier. Me with the iPod & headache & by this time, I was ready to just go home. I zoned out for a brief moment daydreaming of Advil & the couch, but was quickly snapped back to Friday afternoon Costco reality when the cashier asked for my ID.

Not tracking her intentions, I replied:

Oh. I thought I handed you my membership card.

Nice little Asian Lady Cashier responded:

No. I need ID. You try to buy beer.

Seriously, here we go again. Not only am I plenty old enough to purchase alcoholic beverages, I look plenty old enough to do so. Since I couldn't be bother to dig through my wallet to produce proof of age, I decided to pass the buck:

Oh, the beer? I'm not buying the beer. He (I pointed to Man & smiled) is buying the beer. It's not a Dunkel, after all.

Man joined in the fun at this point, starts digging out his driver's license & asked eagerly:

You need my ID card?

The Cashier Lady frowned & waved her hand in dismissal. Then announced:

I no need your ID. You okay to buy beer.

Just few moments later, Man left Costco with his beer. I left with Laze-E's new iPod, my headache and a really bad case of the giggles.

Poke Her With a Pool Cue

For some reason a topic of discussion at tonight's dinner included poker. (And, potential jobs & moving & Germany & Texas & the Rockettes & Marching Band & Meet the Teacher & pseudophed - just another ordinary day around our Haus.) For whatever reason, Laze-E commented on FryBoy's (age 9) ah-mazing math skills at the poker table.

MiniMe immediately piped up wondering what the heck is poker, anyway?

I answered that it was a game. And, before I could explain farther . . .

Man began poking at her in some misguided attempt to make a joke. See? Poker. Poke-Her. Hardy-Har-Har.

I know, I know. And, yes I was the one forcing this quality family time around the dinner table. Salad & leftover lasagna my incentives. That, and of course, bribes of ice cream for dessert.

MiniMe either did not see the so-called humor of the game Poke-Her (who could?) or the "joke" was completely lost on her. She only missed about one beat & then I could see the awesome power of deductive reasoning beginning to dominate her neurons. Though Man continued to poke-her (annoying, isn't it?) as if to illustrate the details of a poker game, my baby's eyes lit up as it all finally made sense.

Oh, Poker! It's that game where you poke the balls with the stick.

Huh?

Lucky for me, Laze-E caught on quickly and set the record straight. Oh, that game is called pool.

Oh, the swimming pool!

No, Sweetie. Pool is the poke-her game. And, poker is a card game.

Other than taking MiniMe to WalMart occasionally, I fail miserably in some areas of motherhood, most notably: pool, poker, light beer, tattoos & BB guns. Some essential life lessons will just have to wait until our next trip to Texas. Uncle Jerry can teach her to play poker. Grammy can show her a few tricks at the pool table. PaPa can handle any questions about light beer & tattoos. And, BBLady, well, we all know what she can do.

Me? I'm all about the ice cream. Praline Caramel Crunch, anyone?

Finally!

In a matter of just a few short hours life changed drastically around the Haus. Gone are the lazy days of hanging by the pool . . .

Gone also are the hot days of Band Camp:

Gone are the days of my attempting to entertain my children around the clock:

As it turns out, sometimes they can entertain themselves.

With or without adult supervision.

A party for no reason other than you requested one.

Roller coasters & Hershey's Bars.

Glow sticks & aliens.

Countless hours of ModPodge crafts.
And yes, we should quit our day jobs and just create greatness all day.

Picnic with the neighbors.

Slumber Party in the RV - and nooo we didn't actually play LIFE.

Score: Water Gun, 0 . . . Water Hose 183

Auf Wiedersehen to the beach bags, Adios to way too much Disney Channel, Hello to backpacks & adults supervision courtesy of the public school system:

Laze-E, Freshman

MiniMe, First Grader

Empty Calories

No kidding, folks. This conversation actually happened today at an On The Border:

Waitress: Hi! I'm Buffy, I'll be your waiter today. What can I get you to drink?

Me: What do you have that's sugar free?

Waitress: Uh, I don't think anything.

Me: Well, how about Diet Coke?

Waitress: We have Diet Coke, but I don't think it's sugar free. Want me to go ask?

Me: No, that's okay I shall spare you that potentially embarrassing conversation with the manager. What the heck, I'm on vaca. I'll splurge & have the Diet Coke. And, make it a double.

Next time, I'm ordering a margarita like a normal person should & not worrying about calories, butt fat & my pancreas. I'm also checking back with Buffy . . . in 20 years . . . after 2 kids . . . plus 30 lbs . . . my bet is that she'll know a thing or two about "diet".

The Camera Doesn't Lie

IF . . .

you (Hello, TGirl!) were on a weekend family fun trip with us Rockin'Bauers,

and had the oppotunity to be in a few family pictures . . .

would you at first be happy to be included?

Would you then think that maybe, just maybe you don't want photographic evidence that you actually associate with us?

Would you finally decide that it's just not worth risking public humiliation?

IF so, you are not alone.

And, IF anyone knows how to get two certain someones to behave for photos, please share.

Driving Around, It's A Hoot

If you are ever driving around out here in the 'burbs of The District, you may come across this road repeatedly:

Backlick Road? Seriously? Just when you thought the real South had the market cornered on RedNeck-isms.

Every time I pass a sign for Backlick (which is frequently because the road is long and filled with modern-day suburban goodness) I get one of two visual images in my head: othe first is of my cat licking her backside & the other is of . . . well, something that might be a Dare Double-Dog Dare at the tail-end of a fraternity keg party.

Pleasant thoughts, I know. Just thought I'd share.

Keep in mind, though, if you take the I-95 Richmond exit in the picture, drive southbound for about 10 miles & turn right, you can be at this next location lickety-split.

At first I was sophomorically amused because there was Dick's Sporting Goods Store across the street from the Hooters.

(giggle, giggle)

Then, I noticed there was a STOP sign in between.

(Bwah-ha-ha-ha-hilarious!)