Monday, November 24, 2008

A Two-Fer Cuz I Didn't Have Enough for a Onesie


Getting ready for guests that will arrive on Thanksgiving will have you cleaning things around the house that had become those things you just don't notice anymore. Until you're planning your menu and look up from the kitchen table to discover a fur coat fine layer of dust covering your decorative plates hanging on the wall above your head. And also on the window covering over the sink. And the tops of the cabinets. And if you decide to stand on a chair; the top of the microwave and refrigerator [and those last two things are a must clean because two of your guests are extremely tall].

Before you know it you're waist deep inside your oven breaking your back and passing out on fumes gently wiping away the burnt on residue and cleaning solution because you don't want to set off your fire alarm while the family waits for turkey.

[Editor's Note: Jesus God I hate my oven]

Then you demand from your husband:

Me: My next oven is going to be self cleaning because this sucks [also, I might have dropped the F bomb]
Husband: C'mon. How often do you clean that thing anyway?
Me: PMSing and already reaching for the steak knives How often DO YOU?
Husband: You're a big fat cry baby. [okay, he didn't say that he just called me mean I don't know whyyy perhaps it was my tone]

***********************************************
We finally hallelujah! had our last soccer game ever ever ever of the season which means - all together now - team party. WoooOOOooo. There was pizza. Goody bags. And the worlds ugliest trophies. I'm not even kidding. Two words: Bobble head. [although, it may be one word, Google was torn]. Great. It's not enough to get a trophy for showing up; now they've gone and made them interactive. [should we start placing bets now as to when this will become a headless trophy?] I'm also willing to overlook that it is a boy.


Seriously, doesn't it look like a small child fell into a vat of hot bronze? And doesn't that just creep you the hell out? I don't trust it. Think I'll sleep on the lighter side.

Also at team parties? Small talk. Oh GAWD just kill me. I happened to choose a chair in the shade which also happened to be directly located next to a woman that, between you and me, is a bit of a sourpuss. She's one of those people that kind of barks when she talks and she's always disappointed in something. And. Never. Ever. Smiles. She's also the mother of twins and a younger third child.

Meanwhile, back at the small talk.

Me: What is the age difference between your children?
Her: TWO minutes!

And she was dead serious. She thought I meant the twins. She also thought I must be the dumbest person on the planet to ask the length of time between births of the two people that shared her womb simultaneously. Or? She forgot she had a third.

then she caught a ground squirrel with her bare hands and ate it

The small talk ended in one of those not often seen moments when it comes to Tootsie - speechless and mouth agape.

38 comments:

Amanda said...

Oh I so feel your pain with the never-ending soccer and the party at the end of the season!

for a different kind of girl said...

Gah, small talk! I wish there was a creepy trophy awarded for small talk, but I fear it would be some really scary bronze woman, mouth agape, and I would try to ditch it on my way home.

Strange Pilgram said...

Hilarious. And I just wiped out my oven. Fortunately no one is coming over this holiday season. Maybe I should invite some people so I can be forced to clean my house too.

hulagirlatheart said...

Ha! I just cleaned out my microwave last night for fear that someone would see it this week. That and I clean furiously when my mother in law pisses me off, and let's just say the whole dang kitchen is now spotless thanks to her. If she squashes my last nerve I could get the bathrooms done, too.

jenontheedge said...

Someone could make a horror movie using that trophy as the killer/slasher/freak.

Also? Small talk at soccer games/parties/practices? Big stabby hate.

Cheri @ Blog This Mom! said...

Heh. Two minutes. Heh. Ate a ground squirrel. Heh.

That trophy? Bride of Chucky.

Laura said...

At first glance, I thought those were clothespins holding up your curtains. I hate the guy that invented dust.

Lo said...

oh, i detest women like that... that assume that YOUR stupidity is really all your own, and not just bc they're morons and can't understand a freakin' sentence in proper english. i run into these women all. the. time. i am like a magnet for bitching moaning snarky ass women who want to try to pinch my head and possibly eat it. just bc i'm minding my own business.

calicobebop said...

That trophy is creeping me out. Why would they do that? Why?!?

smalltownmom said...

Please don't talk anymore about the fur on the roosters because it is making me look at the fur on all my kitchen tchotchkies on the top shelf and it is depressing. I'm not inviting any tall people over.

Tuesday Girl said...

People always ask me what the age difference between my twins are because they don't know they are twins.

Moi said...

Eldest daughter plays soccer so much the seasons never end.

Downside: The seasons never end

Upside: No parties, no small talk

Also, put a ponytail on that trophy & that is what the girls trophies look like around here.

mommypie said...

I'm still laughing at the ground squirrel. Maybe you could skip the rooster fur and have Thanksgiving dinner at HER house?

LuckyMe said...

Just had our soccer luncheon Saturday, Tootsie. You are always hitting a nerve with me. As a late arrival, I had no choice but to sit with 5 dads. Lovely men but I can't talk football and computer programming for more than 5 minutes. I must remind my son what he owes me besides the 5 bucks he conned me out of so he could leave and play 2 minutes of video games.

I posted some fun party games for the holidays. Stop by!

apathy lounge said...

So glad that the remaining child plays golf. Nothing required but polite clapping. I love my new oven (Bosch), but detest my refrigerator. Time for a new one.

L said...

I hate the pre-thanksgiving cleaning almost as much as I hate the post thanksgiving cleaning. I was literally inside the refrigerator of my boyfriends grandmother because that is where the festivities are this year.. I deserve an engagement ring.. I'm just saying.. And yes your trophies scare me.. not ok..

Timi said...

I hate cleaning! I need a staff!
I had to clean a couple weeks ago. I'm done for the year.
The oven........mine DIED in the middle of cooking dinner one night for 8 people, while they were all fighting and calling each other names. All I wanted to do is get them fed and the hell out of my house! Got the oven fixed after they left but we don't invite that group (Mother in-law) of people over anymore. We decided the oven hates them!

Trenches of Mommyhood said...

Ahh yes, Eldest got a Bobblehead football trophy this year. And in 3.2 seconds, Baby had ripped its head off.

Swirl Girl said...

Last day of soccer for us too!
YEAH!!!!!!!

Region 9 trophies are so cool. A real soccer ball on top that spins...makes a great back massager when rolled up and down the spine.

your's looks like a 'chuckie' doll.

Stephanie said...

Are you sure you weren't talking to me?

j/k.

Lee the MWOB Queen said...

Two thoughts -

1) I'm impressed you're even cleaning before Thanksgiving. I'm figuring my family will forgive the mess because they're well, family.

2) HATE small talk. Killmenow. AND what's worse than being at the end of the year soccer party engaging in small talk? Being the dumbass who volunteered to be the Team Mom and now has to ORGANIZE the end of the year soccer party. Again, killmenow.

Martha said...

I am responsible for making the team soccer cake and make sure it's spike so the grown ups can enjoy themselves. Just kidding! Yes, incredibly ugly soccer trophies, look like a ghoul. You make me glad that my Thanksgiving guests are on the short side.

barbra said...

That trophy. OH. MY. GAH.

Mrs. G. said...

Thank the lord I married an Italian. We don't have any tall people in our family.

kmbrknits said...

I got one of those bobble head trophies one year when I was the kid's (seriously incompetent) soccer coach. Creepy is so right. It had a ponytail and I couldn't tell if it looked like a recent decapitation victim or really really drunk.

It lives in the landfill now, though the boys have enshrined theirs somewhere.

My kids sucked at soccer, so we're done with that, thank god. I agree, the small talk was excruciating. Strangely, its better when you're the only English speaking mom on the team.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

Things I no longer have to do (and it makes me happy)--end-of-year soccer parties.

Oh wait, there's still Water Polo and Cheer banquets. Damn--I guess it never ends.

Manic Mommy said...

I thought I was the only freak who cleaned her oven for company.

How long have you and Mr. F been married? God he should know better.

WaltzInExile said...

Okay, when you say "fine layer of dust", that means "an astounding example of dust gathering" -- right?

Saucy said...

That trophy has me aghast. Two words: garage sale.

ALF said...

I somehow never notice the giant cobwebs until a guest is standing right underneath one and then despite the fact that I could remove it quietly, I always feel compelled to make some comment about it so that they notice it too.

kathy said...

My younger son got a baseball version of that trophy a few years ago. The mom in charge of picking them out was all oooh...look at these! How cute. Gag.

Jarrard said...

Crap - I forgot about the top of the refrigerator, but no one at my house for Turkey Day is over 5'10" except my husband and if he is bothered by it he can clean it.

I hated those parties - small talk about how great the kid that couldn't find the ball on the field with a map and a compass were so painful.

O'Neal (The woman in charge around here) said...

You mean we're supposed to clean those things????

I missed that memo. But it does explain the smoke when I bake! And all this time hubby was questioning my baking skillz...silly man!

SuburbanCorrespondent said...

I always notice the ceiling fan blades covered in fuzz just as I'm serving dinner. You know, the ceiling fan that is directly above the dining table...

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

That is a nasty trophy. And a nasty-sounding oven. And you should've sprayed that woman with the rest of your oven cleaner.

Preston said...

I'm reading this at work (I know, shame on me) and I laughed out loud at the squirrel comment. Everybody looked at me. Oh well. It was hilarious!

Debbie said...

Tall people suck. And I'm 5'8" - but my dad is 6'4" and never fails to notice the dust.

stephanie (bad mom) said...

The first part of this post was very "If you give a mouse a cookie..." "If you give a Tootsie a feather duster..."

Anyhooo. Sorry about the dumb trophy; maybe have less talented kids? :)