What a night of correspondence!

First, there was this comment from the CEO of this sex toy company that demanded my attention. Of course, I had to reply. It would have been rude not to.

I do wish she had read more carefully. I wasn’t dissing the toy. I was merely shocked by the price, which I’ve subsequently discovered is in line with other toys of its caliber. I offered to try out some of their other fine products and review them. Who knows if they’ll take me up on my offer. I will say the Jollie is far more fun that it first appears.

Then it was on to organizing a little get together at my house. No RSVPs so far, but I might vacuum if they take me up on the invite.

Shakey walked through the room as I was composing the invitation. I thought I should give him the head’s up that I was inviting all of the viable presidential candidates to the house. You know, since he lives there and all. I got the typical response: head shake.

It stinks that I can’t surprise him anymore.

Tonight the Southern Living at Home invitations go out. They have a great deal for hostesses on their fireplace screen this month. I’m such a sucker. Sorry to any of you who get the invitations. I swear you don’t have to buy anything!! Just come over. I’ll have drinks!

So that’s what’s been on my writing desk. Can you imagine if I had had to do this all with quill and ink? Yet another reason to be glad I wasn’t born in the 1700’s.

When I worked in retail–back when people used paper money–my favorite change to give was $.41.

One of each coin. So satisfying!

…it’s probably just me limping across the floor.

Has anyone mastered the sexy saunter while wearing the walking cast? Cause this ski boot I have on my left foot is making it difficult to strut my stuff.

In the meantime, I give you *dun dun dun duuuun*

The Top 5 Reasons I Prefer to Visit My Podiatrist Over my Other Docs

#5. No hauling my ass over to another office for x-rays. He’s got a machine right in his office. Just for feet!

#4. The office decor includes many posters of fabulous shoes.

#3. When he pulls out the ultrasound I’m not going to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.

#2. You only have to get undressed from the ankle down.

And the #1 reason I prefer to visit my podiatrist over my other docs…

You don’t have to step on the scale.

I first noticed his presence as I felt him on my back. He was big and gave off air of danger. I couldn’t help but look. My eyes were drawn to him.

So I did it.

I looked in my rearview mirror to see the asshole riding my bumper at 75 mph (not that I speed). In his giant white landscaping truck, he stuck to me like glue in an apparent effort to get me to move.

Now it’s not like I’m above developing an attitude similar to a twenty-two year old with a little liquid kevlar in his system when faced with pond scum such as this. There have definitely been a few incidents in my past where I escaped with my teeth and still haven’t learned. It’s not a trait of which I’m proud.

But we’re talking DC traffic. At rush hour!

Where the hell was I supposed to go? The cars were lined up in front of me six deep. This guy wasn’t getting anywhere by getting me out of the way. So, I just hung in there and turned up the radio.

He finally found some room to his right and went barreling off down the center lane–swerving I noticed as he rode up on some other poor soul’s butt. And this is where I got mad.

It’s one thing to piss me off, but don’t go assuming you’re more important than everyone else on the road.

Who the hell does this guy think he is?! I got a pretty good look at him, as he was practically in my backseat, and I’m fairly certain I didn’t miss any blood spraying from his eyes, nor did I see plumes of smoke billowing from his head. I mean what fuck made him think his plans were any more pressing than ours?!

I was all fired up? I’m trying to get all sorts of work finished before I leave on vacation. It was 8:15 p.m. and I was just on my way home from the office. I had a client trash something I had just given to them (and thought was crossed off my list) and I WAS NOT IN THE MOOD.

I wanted to tell you about how I chased after him, cornered him at the next exit and got out of my car at the red light. I wish I could tell you that walked right up to his driver’s door, opened it and pulled him out by the nose hair and then proceeded to lecture him about proper etiquette while operating a vehicle.

But I didn’t.

I bitched at him from the safe confines of my car, shook my head and decided he had probably spent too much time at happy hour and hoped he didn’t hurt anyone else while he was on the road.

I think I’m maturing.

Shit.

Hey there!

I’ve missed you. How are you?

I know I haven’t been in touch in a while. I don’t really have an excuse. I mean there were fireworks and a BBQ, a few entertaining books, the pool, baseball, family and work, but other than that…nothing really.

I could add more, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my period, how I stubbed my pinkie toe and lost most the nail or the fabulous brochures I’m writing to try and pry innocent Americans from their hard-earned money.

So what’s up with you? Any good gossip?

I love juicy gossip. Mostly because I like to say, “No she di’nt!” and “Get OUT!”

So spill it. Tell all. Take a load off. Leave it here. You should see my house. I won’t notice.

Love,
Mamma

My earlier post today was not complete. There were additional moments of brilliance I didn’t share with you my sad saps who have nothing better to do than read my inane spewingfine readers.

If this conversation was thought A, allow me to continue with…

wait… wait…

are you ready for it?

Thought B!

We in the parent blogging world allude to sex from time to time on our blogs (some begging for it more than others). And while we all must have done the waterbed waltz at one time or another to become parent bloggers, I don’t read many posts that touch on the topic in a serious way. Sure there’s Lotta who’s always got our back thinking about ways to improve things, but I’m always amazed that something that so many people do (or want to do) is still so taboo. Anyway, my great thought–which doesn’t seem so great anymore–was that we should start a blog called, “Yeah, Your Parents ARE Having Sex” to discuss such matters. And we’ll all make sure not to tell our co-workers, neighbors or parents about it.

Are you still with me?

Okay, so for Thought C–and I swear my shower wasn’t that long.

I really hope that if Shakey decides to have an affair he never brings the other woman to our house. I’d be so embarrassed by the state of my house.

Yes, as I was rinsing off, I looked around my shower, and–now I KNOW this will come as a major shock to my mother–I noticed that it along with the rest of my house bathroom needed to be cleaned ASAP.

I got to stop worrying about what other people think.

I’ve been low on post ideas, hence my infrequent visits to your reader, however the mighty Blog Goddess saw fit to bless me with an event last night that just demanded to be blogged.

We’re wrapping up the Little League regular season here in VA. Now Mamma Loves baseball, but it does mean that I visit the ball fields 4-5 times a week with our two players.

The thing about the ball fields you see is that when nature calls a woman has few options.

I did give that bottle of water a second thought before I took it out of the refrigerator at work to drink on the way to the game. I did weigh the possibility of having to use the dreaded Don’s John. But I was thirsty.

Some time in the bottom of the second inning I couldn’t wait. It was time to brave the Bacteria Bin.

The lights were on at the field and when I got inside and closed the door I realized it was really dark inside that potty. I was wearing my work clothes and I was a bit concerned about my pants touching the floor, so I hitched them before pulling them down from my waist.

You know I totally squatted cause there ain’t no way any part of me is touching any of this latrine. Everything was going well. Pants hiked up. Perfect squatting position achieved and bladder emptying.

Then I tried to maneuver for some toilet paper–while I maintained my position.

What happened next was all such a blur. I guess I lost my balance. Next thing I know pee is ricocheting off the toilet and spraying the backs of my legs and running down my ankles. I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t readjust. I couldn’t keep the pants up, the squat maintained and find the target. I was frantic. And I was covered in pee!

And it was only the second inning. And it was humid.

I managed to blot out most of the dripping parts (mostly the hem of my pants) and luckily the pants were black and so the wetness was not noticeable. I hurried to my car just to collect my thoughts. I could go home and change, but it was a tournament game and how was I supposed to explain my running off to change. Besides, us baseball parents? We’re weird and superstitious. The team always wins when I’m in my work clothes. I couldn’t change.

The pants weren’t as bad as I first thought, so I made my way back to the game. I am happy to report that Mr. 10’s team won and will continue on in the tournament. I’m also pretty sure I’m the only one who noticed that I smelled like a Port-O-Potty (remember the humidity?). It’s that or the other parents on the team just have really nice manners.

200…two hundred…CC…double benjamins…ducent

• The amount of money you collect for passing “GO”.
• The number of years NOAA has been in existence.
• Double the number of words this gent allows for each post.
• The number of innocent people released from jail due to DNA testing.
• The number of calories in this serving of celery (Doesn’t eating it actually burn calories?).
• The number of calories in four OREOs (I don’t know how many are in one of these.).
• The number of times I’ve seen Sixteen Candles (at least).
• The number of freckles I have per square inch on the sun-exposed parts of my body.

• The number of this post (Our’s goes to 200…).

Okay, can you guys just stop posting for a bit? Little league season has started and I have two playing this year (on different teams), so I can’t keep up.

When I do try I get so involved with reading blogs that I’m too tired to post here.

To be honest with you, I think I’ve run out of things to say. I feel like if I can’t make you laugh like her or cry like she does or rant like this one or give you beauty like this, well then what’s the point?

So in the meantime I’ll share with you the few thoughts/questions bumpin’ around in my brain. I had five hours in the car yesterday traveling to and from an hour and a half meeting to consider some of this.

1. I love the term attorneys general. Pluralizing the word attorney rather than general is a fun surprise.

2. One of my favorite words is efficacy. Not for it’s meaning, but because it’s fun to say. Try it. EFF-I-CA-CY. Fun huh?

3. My Blackberry Texas Hold ‘Em addiction is rearing its ugly head again. I’m such a risk-taker betting large sums of pretend money against a computer.

4. Did you know the State of Maryland has no natural lakes? All that exist are the result of river damming. Yeah, me either. (Thank you NPR)

5. I had to cros the Mason-Dixon line to get to my meeting. Why are there MORE country music stations North of the line?

6. Passed a tattoo parlor in the middle of nowhere. Wanted to stop on my way home to get me some ink, but I couldn’t decide on a design. I wanted to get something to commemorate being a mother, but not something cliche. I know, I know, getting a tattoo because you’re starting to feel old is a cliche, but I don’t care. Any designers out there want to throw me a design? I have three boys and three strong women who inspire me. I was leaning toward some sort of oak tree/acorn thing, but I could change my mind tomorrow (especially if you send me a good design–hint hint).

7. If porn stars get hemorrhoids are their careers done? You can’t airbrush them out of an entire video.

What Kind of Cake Are You?I know these are silly. But hey, if you're red" data-image="http://images.blogthings.com/whatkindofcakeareyouquiz/velvet-cake.jpg" data-button="none">

You Are a Red Velvet Cake

Rich, decadent, and sensual.You have a deep appeal that transcends all trends.You are the definition of passion: intense, adventurous, and seductive.

I know these are silly. But hey, if you’re red velvet you gotta tell the world.