web analytics

He Said, She Said: Alien Anal Probes

{You know all those funny and/or stupid little moments that happen in every marriage but nobody ever talks about? Well welcome to He Said, She Said: True Stories where I give you an unprecedented glimpse inside the marital dysfunction. You are welcome.}

Setting the Scene: It was Matt’s turn to load the dishwasher and he was reluctantly collecting dirty dishes from around the house. The following conversation took place when he asked me if I had any water glasses upstairs on my nightstand.

She Said: Of course I do. I always do.

He Said: How many are up there this time?

She Said: I don’t know. 3 or 4 probably.

He Said: Why? What is the purpose behind this?

She Said: I’m scaring off the aliens. Der.

He Said: What the hell are you talking about? Have you been drinking?

She Said: You know, like in the movie Signs when the little girl has all the water glasses around to keep the aliens away.

He Said: You know that was a movie right? Aliens aren’t real.

She Said: Tell that to Will Smith.

He Said: Yeah. That was a movie too.

She Said: Whatever.

He Said: Huge exasperated sigh.

She Said: Fine. I’ll bring my water glasses downstairs from now on. But don’t blame me when the aliens attack us. I’m telling them to take you first, just so you know.

He Said: Great. It’s a deal.

She Said: You’re gonna be sorry. I hear those aliens do anal probes.

The End.



He Said, She Said: Anacondas

{You know all those funny and/or stupid little moments that happen in every marriage but nobody ever talks about? Well welcome to He Said, She Said: True Stories where I give you an unprecedented glimpse inside the marital dysfunction. Your are welcome.}

Setting the Scene: While randomly surfing the internet one night last week Matt came across an article on yahoo describing how there are 9 pound rats invading the Florida Keys. The following conversation took place after he made me stop what I was doing so he could read the article to me.

He Said: Good Lord. 9 pound rats.

She Said: That’s disturbing.

He Said: It says they can grow up to 3 feet long.

She Said: That’s not a rat, that’s a small dog.

He Said: What do you suppose they do with them when they trap them?

She Said: Well it is Florida. They probably feed them to those Anaconda-sized Pythons that already invaded Florida. By the way, we’re never moving to Florida.

He Said: I’ll show you an Anaconda.

She Said: God.

He Said: What? It’s an offer you shouldn’t refuse.

She Said: Consider it refused. I’d rather move to Florida.

He Said: That’s harsh.

The End.



10 Guilty Pleasures (minus the Guilt)

Have you ever looked back to the beginning of your marriage and wondered why you married your partner? I mean, beyond the whole love-them-more-than-life-itself and we-will-make-pretty-kids things. There has to be more to it. Matt and I have been married for 16 years this year. 16 years. That’s a long time folks and there have been lows to go along with the highs, that’s life. I can look back now and clearly see the underlying reasons I married my Matt. I mean, it’s so obvious now.

5 Secret Reasons I married Matt

*He accepts and tolerates my addiction to trashy tv. This is a biggie. I watch a lot of trashy tv shows. Teen Mom, 16 & Pregnant, My Big Redneck Vacation…the list goes on and on. Not only does he accept and tolerate my addiction, he now supports it as well. Kind of. He still refuses to watch anything having to do with teen mama drama but he has been sucked into the vortex of Chelsea Lately and My Big Redneck Vacation. Next up, I show him the hilarity that is Whitney.

*He feeds my desire for nutritionally void fast food. He knows that at least once a week I am going to call him at 4:59pm and ask him to pick me up something from either McD’s, Five Guys or Chick-fil-a. And he will say yes and bring me whatever my little heart desires because he knows that I have cooked a nice, healthy meal for him and the kids. My body craves crappy fast food, what can I say? I blame years of self deprivation when I was battling an eating disorder. What can I say, I don’t do anything in moderation.

*He turns a blind eye to my love of shopping. He might be twitching and foaming at the mouth behind my back but he pretends to not notice that large shopping bag from Kohls sitting in the middle of the floor. He knows that shopping is a stress reliever for me and that it’s more effective than the anti-anxiety pills I was prescribed. And you know what they say- a happy wife doesn’t kill her husband.

*He willingly keeps the house stocked with wine and liquor. This is a biggie. I like my spirits, it’s no secret. He stops by the ABC store down the street so often that the cashier knows him by name. That should probably embarrass me but I have kids, nothing embarrasses me anymore. I rarely get drunk or even tipsy but I do like a drink at the end of the day. I have 5 kids, don’t judge me.

*He indulges my need for petty gossip by lending his ear every night. I am in this house with short people all day, every day. Sometimes the only adult interaction I get in a day is when I surprise the poor mailman by popping out from behind the mailbox. By the way, they don’t like that.

Poor Matt has learned to accept my guilty pleasures with grace. Not that I give him much choice. Hey, he knew what he was getting into before he popped the question and flashed a shiny ring in front of my face. He knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the shiny. I never can, that’s why he refuses to let me enter a jewelry store. I have a few more guilty pleasures that he doesn’t understand quite so well but he accepts them nevertheless. If I can tolerate his love of all things car related, he can turn a blind eye to my addictions. That, my friends, is called compromise.

5 more guilty pleasures (that I refuse to feel guilty about)

*Starbucks. Oh how I love the Starbucks. I have a different favorite drink for every season of the year. Matt does not understand this addiction but he begrudingly accepts it because this mama with no coffee is a dangerous woman indeed.

*Hot bubble baths. Matt does not see the allure of the hot, steaming bath filled with frothy bubbles. Sinking into that tub at the end of the night with a glass of wine and a good book to read is my idea of Heaven. The fact that he keeps the children away from me for those 45 glorious minutes ensures that his night will have a happy ending. *wink*

*Sending my children to school every day. I probably should feel guilty about this one but I don’t. I love them and all but I do a little jig of glee when they trot down the driveaway to catch the bus in the morning. Matt would totally understand this one a little bit more if he spent 50+ hours a week at home with them watching Caillou on repeat and uttering things like ‘please get your hand out of your pants’ and ‘who smells like poop?’

*Endless redecorating of our house. I get bored, I can’t help it. I spend all day every day staring at these walls and I get bored. I want to redecorate, I want to refresh. Pinterest has not helped me curb this addiction either. Poor Matt never knows what the house will look like when he comes home at the end of the day. I get this honest from my mom. One day my dad came home from work and my mom had knocked down 2 walls that separated our kitchen and dining room. True Story.

*Shoes. I have a little addiction to shoes. And by little, I mean big. Really big. If I could talk him into it, I would build myself an entire shoe closet to house my pretties. I have shoes in every nook and cranny of this house. Unfortunately for Matt, it seems that both of my girls are taking after me with their love of shoes. Whoopsy.



He Said, She Said: Dizzy Spells

{You know all those funny and/or stupid little moments that happen in every marriage but nobody ever talks about? Well welcome to He Said, She Said: True Stories where I give you an unprecedented glimpse inside the marital dysfunction. You are welcome.}
Setting the Scene: A few weeks ago I told Matt about the dizzy spells that I’d been experiencing for no apparent reason. After some questioning, he thought he had figured out the reason for said dizzy spells. I don’t care if he ends up being right, I’m not calling him Doctor and letting him take my temperature.
She Said: I’ve been getting these dizzy spells…
He Said: What kind of dizzy spells?
She Said: The kind that make you dizzy.
He Said: Smart ass. When are they happening?
She Said: Usually late morning or late afternoon. Sometimes early morning too. And late at night.
He Said: So….pretty much all the time then?

She Said: No. Not all the time. Just sometimes.
He Said: Sigh….I meant no specific time of day.
She Said: Oh.
He Said: Are you sure you are eating enough during the day? Are you eating breakfast?
She Said: Well. Today I ate half a poptart, a yogurt, half a waffle, half a bowl of grits, a string cheese, a Healthy Choice meal, 2 chicken sticks, half an apple, a granola bar, a couple of oreos, some french fries…..oh and the rest of that container of chocolate frosting in the fridge…I dipped my french fries in that…
He Said: (staring open mouthed in fascinated, ok more like horrified, silence)
She Said: Yeah. I probably should have left that last part out….
He Said: I think your dizzy spells are your body rebelling against your dietary habits. You might want to work on that.
She Said: Whatever….
He Said: Just call me Doctor. Need a physical?
She Said: In your dreams pal, in your dreams. You’re not taking my temperature.
The End.


He Said, She Said: Asians & Rice

{You know all those funny and/or stupid little moments that happen in every marriage but nobody ever talks about? Well welcome to He Said, She Said: True Stories where I give you an unprecedented glimpse inside the marital dysfunction. Your welcome.}

Setting the Scene: Matt surprised me by bringing home Chinese food for dinner one night last week when I was feeling under the weather. The following conversation took place as I was dishing up Chicken Lo Mien onto the kids plates. Matt likes to fill up the children with as much as rice as possible so there will be more Lo Mien leftovers for him. Can you say Greedy?

He Said: Give Mase some rice.

She Said: He doesn’t like rice, he won’t eat it.

He Said: He has to like rice.

She Said: Well….he doesn’t.

He Said: That’s like a Buddhist not liking Buddha.

She Said: Huh? Why? What?

He Said: He’s Asian. He has to like rice.

She Said: He is half white you know.

He Said: Well it is white rice.

She Said: I don’t think it works that way.

He Said: Give him the rice anyway.

The End.

It is important to note that Mase did not eat only single grain of rice that Matt forced me to pile on his plate. Apparently it is a myth that all Asians like rice. But he is only half Asian so perhaps that makes a difference. I don’t know but that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.