Category Archives: Marriage

Family Fight Night IV: Dog Days of Summer Smackdown

Posted on August 13, 2025 | 1 comment

Hello, hello and welcome everyone to what is shaping up to be our biggest battle of the year so far here at Family Fight Night! We’re your announcers for the evening, Stan Boomvoice and Tucker McThundercords. 

Big is right, Stan. It’s the dog days of summer and this family of four has spent entirely too much time together. The seasonal strain is showing and it’s clear that the Dogged Dame of Daytime Daycare is done. 

And don’t forget, Tucker, school is still a few weeks away. August may be hot but the temperature outside is not nearly as scorching as the flaring tempers inside. 

And it looks like things are about to take a turn for the worse. It’s getting close to bedtime and we all know what that means, Stan. Pure. Utter. Pandemonium. The Savage Siblings have had free reign for months but now this Miffed Mama is desperately trying to get them back on some sort of schedule. 

They’re not liking that, Tucker. 

No, they are not, Stan. Oh! And we’re off! Meanie Mumsy is making the first move, starting out strong and throwing down the hammer with her dreaded Clean Your Rooms Reminder. 

But here comes the Pre-Pubescent Prince, aka The Elevenator, coming in hot with his classic countermove, the Proclamation Indignation Dispensation. You know she had to be expecting this, Tucker. It’s been his go-to move ever since he cleaned his room back in early June. 

Oh! But would you look at that! Bet the Missus of Mayhem didn’t see this coming, Stan! In a rare show of alliance, Little Sister Seether, fresh off a Talking To after lunch time’s Tit for Tater Tot Tiff, is joining Belligerent Big Brother with some Defiance Drama of her own.

But it looks like the Maligned Matriarch is not backing down, busting out The Cutthroat Countdown! It’s surprisingly early in the fight for this move, Tucker. Which just goes to show, she’s as over summer as the overdue library books she can never find.  

What happens when she gets to three, Stan?

No one knows, Tucker. No one knows. And it looks like the mystery will remain, with the Chaos Kiddos tromping in retreat to their rooms. Which begs the question, she won the battle, but can she win the war?

I think we’re about to find out, Stan. It appears her victory is short-lived and a Sibling Squirmish has surfaced over a shared spirograph kit, which is swifting spiraling out of control. 

A completely unexpected turn of events, considering neither of these Juvie Jackals has played with it in years. Do you think Mom can count on an assist from Dad here, Tucker?

It’s not looking good, Stan. Daddy Dearest is already deep in a Dissociation Doomscroll Dodge after another day of drudgery at work. 

And it looks like the Primary Caretaker is stepping in before she becomes the Primary Undertaker. It’s all fun and games until these Feral Fledglings gain the upper body strength to actually kill each other, Tucker, and after yet another growth spurt, it looks like they just might this time. Lil Miss Nine, who is anything but benign, is ready to end the bloodline, while the Minor Macho Man with the Overworked Glands is throwing hands!

Oh! But would you look at that! This Wine Mom is unleashing some candid Cabernet Savagery, her patience dissipating faster than the morning dew on a sun scorched lawn, Stan.

She may have started imbibing at 4 pm, but this Put Upon Parent has definitely earned those glasses of wine. The Tedious Teenybopper Trash Talking began early this morning and hasn’t abated since, Tucker.

Oh! Oh! But would you look at that? Her Bitchin’ & Twitchin’ Eye combo is met with a perfectly executed one-two Whatever/Eye Roll from the Bruh of Duh, followed by the Femme Fatale Fourth Grader’s Flared Nostrils of Annihilation. Oh, the humanity! These Wilding Whelps are pulling out all the stops! 

They’ve got her on the ropes, Tucker. It’s clear she’s already depleted after dealing with the back-to-back Leggo My Lego and Spilled Kinetic Sand Scream Storm earlier today. 

My ears are still ringing from the Twin Kin Keening, Stan. Oh-ho! But what’s this? It looks like the Slouchy Grouch is off the couch and ready to cause some major ouch. Father Fatigued is finally stepping in and stepping up as the Harbinger of Hygiene, heralding that it’s time for the habitual ritual of teethbrushing. 

Wow! Truly a Hail Mary Hall Pass! You can visibly see a sigh of relief from the Sapped Senora but Sister Sloth is still deadset, coming out swinging with the Sun Is Still Out Excuse. 

The Elementary Eldest is chiming in as well, with his Maturity Manifesto, Stan. Looks like we have us a Dynamic Duo Dual Dramatic Dialogue Drop! 

But the proof is in the pudding, which no one got tonight after the classic parental maneuver of Just Desserts Means No Desserts, doled out after dinner’s French Fry Fracas. The Pissed Off Patriarch is having none of it and executes the Slightly Raised Voice power move! 

And would you look at those scamps scramble! He hasn’t even hit wonky refrigerator decibel levels yet and they’re already tucking themselves in. Looks like we can chalk up another win for the Tired Tyrants tag team!

But wait, Tucker, isn’t it bath night tonight?

Sshhhh, I think Mama Maim just heard you. She’s staring right at us with her patented Glare-N-Growl. I’m scared, Stan.

Well, that’s all for us here at Family Fight Night, folks! Until next time, everybody! …Go, Tucker, go, go, go, go…

1 Comment

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pop Culture, Sports, Women, Writing

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Money is wasted on the rich

Posted on February 20, 2025 | 2 comments

As far as I can tell, from my very distant plebeian view (because they won’t let me get any closer), once you’re rich you only have one goal. 

To get richer. 

Over and over again we see it. People have all the money, just obscene amounts of it, and all they want is more. More money to get more power so they can get more money so they can get more power to manipulate the system so they can get more money, blah, blah, blah. 

How utterly boring. 

It’s people like me that should be filthy stupid rich. Give me a crap ton of money. Someone who is old school poor. A red-blooded American bastard child born to a single teenage mom. Because listen, once I’m rich, I’m good. I don’t need any more money. I would feel absolutely no need to destroy nature or other people’s lives or democracy itself in pursuit of more.

And HOO BOY, would I have fun with it. My god, do you know the things I would do if I had money? 

I’d start off small, of course. First, to celebrate that I’m no longer a peasant, I’d go to a fancy ass restaurant and order the GOOD wine. No second cheapest red on the menu for me. Oh no. The one with the label I can’t pronounce that has hints of cherry and oak or whatever it is that good wine is made with. And then I’d buy the entire inventory of the good wine and tell the server that it’s all for the employees when their shift is over. Front of house, back of house, the ladies who come in the middle of the night to clean. And then, once I’m drunk enough, I’m going to buy the restaurant outright, yell “who’s been working here the longest?” and make them the new owner. 

Then I would go to my doctor AND my dentist, throw up a huge wad of cash, reveal just how long I’ve been lying to them about my “healthy” habits and tell them to give me a full work-up. I’m a mess. But since money is no longer an object, I can now bring up things that I was worried about in the past out of fear my insurance would try to bill me for even daring to mention it. 

And then I’d turn to everyone in the waiting rooms, announce “this round is on me” and pay all their medical bills.

Speaking of which, I’ll also hire some super scary pitbull lawyers to fight my insurance company for everything and anything they dare to not pay for. Like, I’m going to get super petty about it. Huge bonuses for any attorney who makes the health insurance person on the phone cry. 

Then I would tell my husband he can quit his job and that starting today, we’re gonna start living our best lives. Which obviously means buying a house somewhere in New England where I’ll write books and help the local sheriff solve crimes on the side like my girl Jessica Fletcher. 

Yes, a cute but modest house that has all we need and nothing we don’t. With TWO bathrooms. Maybe even an additional half bath. (No more coordinating poop schedules for my family!) But I’d buy it in a rich neighborhood with one of those ridiculous homeowners associations and make their life a living hell. I’ll put a pollinator garden in the front yard and watch them go apoplectic. Paint the exterior a garish color and get a llama that I’ll train to spit on people walking by who are wearing blood diamonds. Refuse to upgrade our 2003 Honda Odyssey van (The Tan Van-Damme) and park it right there outside the garage in all its rusted hobo glory. 

Then I’d pay all their fines in giant jars of mixed coins. 

Naturally, the HOA will try to get me kicked out but they forget, I’ve got the sheriff on my side, what with all the crime solving.

Then I’ll hire a down-on-her-luck single mom to be my cleaning lady and grossly overpay her under the table. I’ll overpay her so much that eventually she’ll be able to buy a house for her family in the neighborhood. Then she’ll get her own cleaning lady and I’ll find another one I can grossly overpay and we’ll continue to do this until we completely reverse gentrify the entire area and the former tenants flee. 

Then I would travel the world. But not first class. Never first class. You ever notice how those people won’t meet your eyes as you slowly make your way toward the back? It’s because they know. They know how awful they are and how awful it is back there. And that if we were to crash into a mountainside and had to start eating each other while we waited to be rescued, we would start with them. Because they’ve been marinating in champagne and smugness and warm chocolate cookies while we just suffered through something called “chicken.”

But I would BUY first class tickets every time. Roughly half of them for the flight. Then I’d find every family with small children, every drunken frat bro, all the chatty grandmas with vaguely racist views, and, of course, the guy who can’t stop clearing his throat, and give them the tickets. Meanwhile I’m relaxing back in economy, surrounded by empty seats, as chaos reigns up front now that there is no longer a barrier in place to keep the PUBLIC from descending on their orderly, elilist lives.  

The only thing that wouldn’t change is my children’s lives. I’m not even going to let them know we are disgustingly wealthy. Rich kids tend to be assholes and grow up to be even bigger assholes. But there would be signs if they paid attention. A thermostat turned up to 68 in the winter (70 on the weekends!) instead of 62. Shampoo bottles not filled with water once they’re almost empty. No more dealing with bullying because I’m paying for therapy for all their childhood bullies.

And, perhaps the biggest sign of all, the fact they now have two loving and attentive parents who aren’t perpetually stressed out as they stare despondently down at a bleak future that will likely make them work until the day they die just to make ends meet. 

2 Comments

Posted in Family, funny, Gardening, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Politics, Travel

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Claus and Effect

Posted on December 11, 2024 | 2 comments

Gather ‘round, parents. Your Auntie Aprill wants to tell you a story. A beautiful Christmas story about childhood and the magic of Santa. And what happens when it all goes horribly, horribly wrong. 

It was a few years ago on a night just like tonight, with the warm glow inside the house keeping the cold and darkness at bay. My eldest child came to me, the very vision of childhood innocence in his pajamas, a smile on his lips and a slight twinkle in his eye. 

And it all went sharply downhill from there. 

In my defense, flimsy as it is, he asked me point blank. 

“Is it you?” he asked. 

It’s time, I thought to myself. He had been hinting for weeks that he knew The Truth. Luckily I was prepared. You don’t gaslight your own children for a good chunk of a decade without having an escape plan. And mine was a doozy. A Christmas narrative so beautiful and heartwarming, Dickens himself would bow to my obviously superior skills. 

I put on my most serene and saintly smile, motherly wisdom practically radiating out of my pores, and began. 

“It is, sweetie, but now that you know…”

I got no further. 

“What!?” he cried out. “It is!? But I didn’t really want to know!”

Oh. Oh. Oooh.

“But listen!” I said, a bit too loudly, desperately trying to swallow my panic. “A long time ago, there really was a Santa Claus that gave presents to poor children and when he died…”

“Santa’s DEAD!?” he gasped. 

Son of a Blitzen. 

“No! Baby, no! Well, kind of…the point is he inspired millions of people for hundreds of years to keep the Christmas magic he started alive by…”

“By lying to kids?”

He had me by the sugarplums there. 

“It’s not lying…per se. It’s…more like an untruth. A glittery, shining untruth that makes children happy.”

The Grinch himself couldn’t have produced a more withering stare. I could literally see my son’s heart shrink three sizes that day. 

“I think I need a minute, mom,” he finally said, throwing a blanket over his head, his preferred method of dealing with Uncomfortable Things. 

And there it was. The moment where I ruined his childhood. The moment where the downward spiral begins. First he’ll start acting out in school, carving candy cane shivs in detention. Then moving on to spray painting “Scrooge Had It Right The First Time” under bridges. Eventually there will be jail time, where he’ll emerge with a homemade tattoo of Krampus featuring comically warped proportions across his entire back. 

Devastated, I headed to the kitchen in search of comfort. But standing in front of the 40 proof eggnog was my husband. 

“He knows. About Santa. It was supposed to be you that he hated!” I told him with the sensitivity and subtlety I’m known for. “I’m the favorite parent!”

To my husband’s credit, he still tried to console me but it was useless. The image of me as the Infallible Tower of Matriarchal Love and Knowledge had been shattered. 

Faintly, I heard my son calling for me from the living room. I gave my husband one last desperate look and turned to face my punishment. 

As I approached, my son climbed up onto the ottoman so we were almost eye-to-eye. The better to headbutt me, I figured. 

“Does keeping the Christmas magic alive mean that someone has to eat the cookies left out for Santa?” he asked. 

I laughed in spite of myself. 

“Yes. Yes it does. And I think I know the perfect person for the job.”

We both smiled as I gently wiped the last of his tears away.

“Now, mom, about the tooth fairy…” 

2 Comments

Posted in Family, funny, Holidays, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pop Culture

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Family Fight Night 3: Sibling Summer Slam

Posted on July 16, 2024 | Leave a comment

Hello, hello! And welcome everyone to what is sure to be the most legendary Family Fight Night yet. We’re your announcers for the evening, Stan Boomvoice and Tucker McThundercords. 

Legendary is right, Stan. It may be hot outside but it doesn’t come close to the temperature inside. Summer break is in full swing and tempers are flaring higher than the flames on Dad’s gas-soaked grill. 

Speaking of Daddy Doomed, he’s still at work and the Married Matron is looking pretty harried, Tucker. 

This muggy air has nothing on Mama’s mean mugging, Stan. I don’t know about you but I’d steer clear of this Miffed Missus. She’s already behind on dinner prep and potatoes aren’t all she’s ready to whip. 

Looks like she’s regretting the Tablet Time-Out she instituted after the Blanket Fort Fracas, Tucker. These Wilding Whelps haven’t given her a break since breakfast. 

And they are showing no signs of slowing down. Big Brother Bash is currently baiting Sister Seether with his infamous Toy Pile Driver, refusing to leggo those Legos even though he knows some of them are hers. 

Oh! And it looks like the Rising 3rd Grader is rising to the occasion. She’s going in hard with her patented Honeybadger Hurricanrana, Tucker. Just a feral flying mass of tangled hair and untrimmed nails. 

It’s not looking good for the Prepubescent Prince, Stan. I believe the Spare is ready to dethrone the Heir. 

Not looking good at all, Tucker. That growth spurt she had last month is really paying off here. He might be older but this youngest is ready to yeet him out into the yard. 

And it looks like the disturbance is dragging the Depleted Damsel into the drama, and she is clearly in distress. What do you think her play here should be, Stan?

Grounding is hardly groundbreaking, Tucker, but it might be Mama’s best move. Sometimes the classics are classic for a reason. 

Oh! I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! A Hail Mary hailing from Hell’s Kitchen! In a surprise move, she’s busting out A Moment’s Peace, letting them play video games! I did NOT see that coming, Stan.

It’s a risky move, Tucker. Risky move. The Tween Titan has been on a hot streak during this heatwave, dominating the action on the Nintendo Switch. He’s already gotten several reprimands for trash talking. 

But it looks like the Sus Sweetie has something up her sleeve, Stan. She’s been secretly practicing while The Bruv of Shove was at camp last week and has managed to eke out a win! 

Oof! That’s gotta hurt. Unsurprisingly, the action is now spilling over from the screen into real life. The Super Smash Brothers have nothing on these Super Shriek Siblings! Oh, the humanity! 

And here comes all 15 pounds of the Round Mound of Pure Hellhound, always happy to add to the bedlam. This little doggy has a bone to pick and as you well know, Stan, the Chaos Canine rarely gives up easily. 

Talk about a tongue lashing, Tucker. His bark might be worse than his bite but his lick is far from lovable. 

Do you hear that, Stan? With her signature primal scream, it’s clear The Frazzled Femme Fatale has had it and is stomping out of the kitchen again, flinging F Bombs like a F5 tornado! Daughter Dearest at least has the decency to look demeaned but the Savage Son remains defiant. 

Oh and would you look at that timing! Father Fatigued is finally home, unwittingly headed right into the eye of the storm. There’s a lot to take in here, Tucker, but he immediately executes his go-to move, The Raised Eyebrow. 

The Pint-Sized People Producer is beyond peeved at this point and not afraid to project! She ain’t having none of it, gesturing wildly at everything! It’s clear she’s ready to tag him in, Stan.

But Daddio is coming in hot with the Decompression Defense! Looks like Bro-Dad just wants a brewski, Tucker. 

We might have a Sweaty Stare Down on our hands. Do you think his Killer Commute can compete with her Caretaker Collapse, Stan?

Not likely, Tucker. Not likely at all. But wait! What’s this? He’s busting out the Meatlovers and Movie Maneuver! 

And on a Tuesday! Unbelievable! Papa Peacemaker saving the day with Papa Johns! And will you look at that turnaround? They went from throwing hands to clapping hands.

What a bout, Tucker! What a bout. 

Indeed, Stan. Always nice to see a Happy (For Now) Ending here at Family Fight Night. Until next time, everybody! 

Leave a comment

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pets, Pop Culture, Sports

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

My Annual Spring Cleaning Motivational Speech to my Family

Posted on May 24, 2024 | Leave a comment

Hello, beloved family. You know how every year I deny having Seasonal Affective Disorder even though we all know I go into full on Goblin Mode for five months straight? Well, guess what…

*dramatically throws back window curtain*

Spring has finally arrived in New England! And not False Spring, where we get a couple of nice days and then it snows. And not False Spring Part Two: Hail to the Sleet. 

Oh no. Real spring. The sun is shining, the trees are green, and everywhere is the beautiful grunting sounds of people struggling to set up their air conditioning window units. 

And, of course, the official sign that summer is on its way…

*dramatically thrusts out one leg*

I’ve switched out of my sweatpants and into my leggings. 

Do you know, dearest family, what this means? I’ll take it from your groans that you do. Yes! It means that I will begin manically spring cleaning the house, dragging you all into chaos against your will! Because I finally have Vitamin D coursing through my veins and my brain has started producing dopamine and serotonin again. 

I can tell from your whimpers that you’re just as excited about this as I am. Excited to cast aside the resigned acceptance we have for our filth and clutter and cramped tenement-style conditions and eager to embrace no longer being garbage people. 

Yes, my loves! We don’t have to live like this! Just this morning, I finally cleaned out and organized that one cabinet in the kitchen that was driving me insane and suddenly it was like a whole new kitchen. So I cleaned out another cabinet. And then the fridge. And threw away all those frozen leftovers in the freezer that we were never, ever going to eat but thrust in there haphazardly because it’s wrong to waste food. 

As it turns out, 90 percent of my desire to burn everything down and start over is the fact we just have too much stupid crap. 

Just imagine the possibilities! All that stands between us and the house of our dreams is a little bit of deep cleaning! And by little bit I mean A LOT. We are super gross. 

Like, what if you kids actually had room in your rooms to play? Beautiful, clean, organized rooms! With a place for everything and everything in its place. And absolutely no place for the 300 or so dried out markers scattered around because we will finally throw them away. I’m so pumped by the idea of this I even wrote a song about it…

“We need room in our rooms

[Room in our rooms]

Room to roam, room to grow

[Room in our rooms]

So we stop being so embarrassed on Zoom”

OK, fine, I’ll stop singing. But you have to admit it was pretty catchy. And the point remains, we could take pride in where we live. I know we’ll never have nice things but we CAN make our crappy things slightly less crappy. We could be the kind of people who, instead of cramming more things into already overstuffed drawers, get rid of all the things in the drawers we don’t need. 

We could have drawers that close! Oh, dare I dream? 

And all those stains we’ve had so long that we just consider them part of the family now? We could DO something about them instead. We could finally get rid of that giant bag of old batteries we have because we know we’re not supposed to throw them in the trash but we’ve always been too lazy to actually google what to do with them. We could even, and honey, get ready to catch me in case I faint, put the NEW FILTER we bought eight months ago into the BRITA. 

A whole new better life awaits us!

So what do you say, gang! Who’s with me? Let’s do this!

…

I can tell from your resounding silence that you might not be as enthusiastic as I am about all this…

Anybody want to hear my Trash Can Song? It’s pretty inspiring…

*starts banging on lid like a drum*

“This is the trash can song 

[the trash can song]

Because who can? He can! The trash can can!

[the trash can song]

Ooooh, he can take your cans and take your old pans…”

No? I have also prepared a lovely candy wrapper rap. WITH explicit lyrics. 

OK, fine. Fine. For every bag of trash you gather I’ll give you $5 and I’ll give $10 for every box filled with clothes and toys we can donate. Yes, you too, Daddy. 

Now there’s the energy I was looking for! 

Leave a comment

Posted in Family, funny, Marriage, Parenting

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Family Fight Night II: Hardcore Holiday Havoc

Posted on November 22, 2023 | Leave a comment

Hello and welcome to another epic battle here on Family Fight Night! And what a historical evening it’s shaping up to be. We’re your announcers for the evening, Stan Boomvoice and Tucker McThundercords. 

Historical is right, Stan. If you remember our last brawl, Mom and Dad came out on top with their expertly executed tag-team move, Just Desserts Means No Desserts, but tonight we’ve got the perfect storm brewing. It’s the holiday season and you know what that means.

Big Feelings, Tucker. Big Feelings all around. 

Right you are, Stan. It’s anyone’s fight tonight. I mean, just look at this lineup! You’ve got the Fourth Grader Dictator, the eldest with the edicts, who’s been dealing with fractions AND infractions all year long. Then there’s Little Sister Savage, that baby beast in baby pink, who is going through a fierce independent streak right now. And to top it off, here comes Daddy, the Big Bad Bacon Bringer himself, just coming off an excruciating three weeks of overtime. 

He can bring home the bacon but can he bring the pain? And let’s not forget the Matriarch of the Madhouse, Tucker. She’s taken on the full brunt of the domestic duties these past three weeks while also elbow deep in holiday prep and you can tell she’s starting to feel the effects. 

Elbow deep is right, Stan. Just ask the Thanksgiving turkey. Stress levels are at an all-time high on the whole, but particularly for Mumsy Mayhem today.

Just don’t let her hear you call her that, Tucker. Or she’ll be elbow deep in you.

Ha ha! She truly is terrifying, Stan. And speaking of Mommy Dearest, here she comes, straight outta the kitchen, wielding a ladle and lecture!

And we’re off! She’s coming out strong with the Why Is No One Helping Guilt Trip. What a power move! And it looks like it’s working. The kids are already looking to Daddy for help. What do you think is the right defense here, Tucker?

He could always try the Sincere Apology or the ever popular Play Dumb Gambit. But no! He’s going with The Gentle Reminder, telling her that not even 20 minutes ago she kicked them all out of the kitchen because they were getting in her way. Talk about risky, Stan!

Risky indeed. If it doesn’t diffuse the situation it’s bound to act as a powderkeg. And I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! He got away with it! Receiving only a Glare-and-Growl from the Matriarch. They don’t call him The Stable Stallion for nothing, Tucker.

If you can’t stand the heat, get back into the kitchen! But this Proactive Progenitor isn’t off the hook yet, Stan. It appears a Sibling Skirmish has broken out, resulting in a full-on Remote Control Rough And Tumble. Oh, the humanity! 

I’m not surprised, Tucker. The rivalry between them has been simmering harder than mom’s gravy ever since this morning. The dynamics of The Dynamite Duo have changed over the past few months and it looks like The Sassy Lassie is ready to light a match! She is straight up dropping taunts like they’re baby teeth. 

Brother Bash isn’t liking that. Stan. 

No he is not, Tucker. Oh! They are really going at it! There’s a lot of moves Dad can pull here but remember, it’s a holiday, so it’s highly likely both Grounding and Go To Your Rooms are off the table. 

Do you think he can expect an assist from Mom here, Stan? 

Unlikely. She’s too busy whipping potatoes to whip some ass right now, Tucker. 

And would you look at that! It appears Papa Penalty has had enough after several failed Compromise Attempts and is coming in hot with the You Know What!? followed by the Power Off Flex. There’ll be retribution for this, for sure, Stan.

Oh, I can almost guarantee it, Tucker. And there it is! The Shrieks of Self-Righteousness. In stereo, no less! Oof! That’s gotta hurt. He’s getting it from all sides. 

But wait! What’s this? Saved by the dinner bell! Unbelievable!  

And just in time too! I don’t know how much longer Dad would have been able to hold out. But the kids aren’t done with him yet, Tucker. Looks like they’re teaming up to pull a Sulk & Pout at the table.

It’s a clever maneuver, Stan. Mom isn’t going to want to deal with that now that she’s finally got a chance to sit down. They’re likely hoping she’ll take their side and put the blame fully on Dad. 

Any other night it might have worked but the Sibling Squad forgot to factor in Mama’s Holiday Pour. 

Yes, they did. She’s three glasses of wine in already and using the Big Glass, Stan. She’s ignoring the whole dramatic display! Which can’t be easy, considering she cooked for 16 hours only to watch her kids eat rolls and mac-and-cheese while scowling. 

But these Chaos Kiddos refuse to give up. The Fun-Sized Femme Fatale is going straight into Fake Tears while The Son of Slam immediately goes on the defensive with his favorite go-to move, She Started It. Mom easily deflects it with I Don’t Care, I’m Ending It.

Sensing an opportunity and looking to gain favor, The Mischievous Maven switches effortlessly from Fake Tears to Full-On Fawning, giving Mom a gentle chokehold.

I believe that’s called a hug, Tucker. Oh-ho, but it appears there’s an ulterior motive! A Very Pointed Smirk thrown directly her brother’s way and behind Mom’s back! This Disney princess must have a death wish.

But what’s this! From out of nowhere! An Illegal Roll Throw from across the table! Hitting his sister right in the kisser! It’s well known that he doesn’t like to lose and he’s willing to risk it all to prove it. And here comes Mom, flying off the ropes with the expletives! It looks like The Mental Load Carrier has finally gone mental! Oh, I tell you, Stan, I’ve never seen the vein in Mom’s forehead throbbing this hard before.

Looks like in an act of desperation, her current opponent has decided to double down with The No One Understands Me Storm Off! We haven’t seen this move since Tuesday’s spaghetti night, Tucker. 

Mama certainly does not look happy. And if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy and she is willing to throw hands to make it happen. But what’s this now? Hold up! The unthinkable has happened! It looks like Mom is waving the white flag, using the only weapon left in her arsenal, The Tears Of The Unappreciated. 

And just look at that! Talk about an emotional gusher! Actual Crocodile Tears! And at her age, still able to do it! One has to wonder, Tucker, where is Daddy in all of this? 

Regardless, it looks like it’s working, Stan. Both kids are executing a perfect Head Hung In Shame followed by a Mumbled But Still Fairly Sincere Apology. We haven’t seen this kind of turnaround since her Disastrous Birthday Dinner of 2020. 

It’s not over yet, Tucker. Because here comes Dad, from his mysterious doings in the kitchen, walking in with the rarely used I’ve Got Something Hidden Behind My Back Gimmick. Whatever it is, it better be good. Things are looking pretty bleak. 

He’s starting with a powerful left swing and it’s…a cheesecake! With cherries AND a chocolate crust! Good start, good start, but Mom is still giving her Fake But I Appreciate The Effort Smile. Yet to be deterred, he’s now swinging in hard with the right, revealing …Another Bottle Of Wine! 

OH! I think I might go blind from that pearly-white-from-ear-to-ear grin Mom just whipped out of nowhere! And can you believe it, the children are actually applauding!

It is quite the anti-climatic ending, Stan, but a heartwarming one nonetheless. 

Looks like everyone’s a winner here tonight, Tucker. That is until the Who Has To Help Clean Up Fracas that is looming, but unfortunately that’s all the time we have. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! 

Leave a comment

Posted in cooking, Family, Food, funny, Holidays, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Sports

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

A Love Letter to my Husband on our 13th Wedding Anniversary

Posted on March 1, 2023 | Leave a comment

Dearest husband, 

Where do I even begin? Where does one start with a love like ours? After 13 years of marriage it’s still as strong as ever. When I look into your eyes I still see the…wait, wait, come sit on my other side, I slept weird last night and my neck won’t turn that way now. 

As I was saying, when I look into your eyes, I still see the eyes of the young man I married. 

And some crazy long eyebrow hairs. Wow, those really went to seed over the years, eh? Oh, that reminds me, did I tell you I found another hair on my chin the other day? Black as night. I feel like a lady dwarf. 

Where was I? Right. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t change a thing (that blowout fight we had about whether the Hulk is actually a hero notwithstanding). I still remember our wedding day as though it was yesterday. And I remember the hangover the following day even better. The sight of champagne still makes me want to die. Remember when I lost my shoe? Heh. 

Seriously though, you’ve made me a better person. I always replace the toilet paper roll now, ever since The Great Toilet Paper Roll Argument of 2012. You are such a patient and gentle and kind person. And let’s be honest, I can be a ridiculous creature from time to time, so it can’t always be easy…OK, you don’t need to nod quite so vigorously… 

We’ve been through so much together. Moving across the country, not once but twice. Traveling the world. That time I got bangs. 

We even survived a pandemic together. And through it all we’ve only grown closer. Especially now that you’re back in the office three days a week and I’m able to swallow my intense rage at your VERY LOUD ZOOM VOICE. “HEY CHRISTINA, LET’S CIRCLE BACK TO…” Oh yes, you are that loud. I’m not exaggerating, buddy. Not even a little. 

But most importantly, you’ve given me two beautiful children and for that I can never thank you enough. Remembering the smell of their tiny heads and their soft breathing against my chest and their little baby giggles brings me such joy and helps me slog through this new phase of their childhood filled with endless eye rolling and getting called “dude” multiple times a day. 

We’ve built a beautiful life together in our beautiful home. And even though we still have to rent that home because house prices skyrocketed the second we started looking to buy, the memories we’ve made here can never be evicted. That reminds me, did you remember to call the bank? Or was I supposed to do that? We should really get on that. And that first time home buyer program thingie. Hang on, I’m going to make a note in my planner. Oh! I’ll make it right beside the note that says “buy anniversary card and gift.” Sorry about that. But hey, check out this marriage related meme I found yesterday. Hang on, hang on, where is it? There it is. Check it out. Your cheaters are on top of your head, babe. I know! Funny right? 

Look, I know things are always crazy now with the kids and the activities and work schedules and play dates and speaking of which I completely spaced on scheduling one of those so we could go out. Dammit. 

Well, how about tonight I cook us a homemade dinner? Steak, perhaps? Oh crap, what time is it? Nevermind, it’s too late to defrost them. OK, how about I order us a home cooked meal? Yeah? What’s the name of that place you like? Oh god no, I hate that place. The other place. Yes, the one I love. That’s the one. I’ll order us a nice meal and even call the restaurant myself this time when they’re late with the order and it arrives cold again. Oh! I do have that board meeting tonight at 6 pm, I just remembered, and our youngest has science club after school and the kids need a bath but then, maybe when the kids go to bed we could…oh wait, I haven’t shaved. It’s been like two weeks. Kidding. It’s three. And I already put on my good sweatpants (for YOU, of course). Are you still working from home Friday? Maybe after I take the kids to school and run to Target for a razor (I think the last one committed suicide) we can finally celebrate physically (WINK). Yeah, oh yeah, check your meeting schedule first and get back to me. 

But you know what? It doesn’t matter how we celebrate. Or when. The point is we’re still in this together and still in love and I look forward to spending 37 minutes picking out something to watch tonight and then pausing it so we can get the one kid a glass of water and tell the other kid that we can talk about which dinosaurs would win a fight against a hoard of zombies tomorrow and then falling asleep within 10 minutes after that on the couch and then growling like a feral coyote at you when you wake me up to go to bed because every time I sleep on the couch my neck gets all wonky. 

Happy anniversary, my love. There is no one else I’d rather embrace the suck with than you.

Leave a comment

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Love, Marriage, Parenting

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

An update from your favorite mediocre mom

Posted on November 15, 2022 | 6 comments

So it’s been a minute. Sorry I haven’t written in awhile (to the few of you who still read these). But I have two very good reasons. 

The first was that my husband and I went to Ireland for two weeks in October. We even managed to go without our children after somehow convincing my mom to watch our feral brood (and we’re hoping to be back on speaking terms with Memaw any day now). 

The entire experience was straight out of a fairy tale. But instead of having a meet-cute and falling in love on the windswept Cliffs of Moher, we’ve been together for 15 years and privately mocked all the giddy, lovestruck idiots who went right up to the cliff edge to get the perfect selfie despite many signs stating emphatically that that was a very good way to die. We even got caught in a downpour after touring a castle and ran to the nearest pub soaking wet, where we ordered some beers, looked lovingly into each other’s eyes and complained about how loud the music was. 

It was a dream come true. 

Which led to another dream come true. 

Perhaps it was because I had my full brain power for two weeks, or maybe having this big adventure reminded me that before children I was an actual human being with hopes and dreams and a decently working bladder, but last week I finally finished the first draft of a novel I’ve been working on all year. 

It’s terrible. 

But it’s out of my head. All 90,000 words are out of my head and written down and existing in the world, complete with The End in giant font on the last page because I am nothing if not dramatic. 

It exists and someday (hopefully soon) it might even be, dare I dream, above average. I’ve always wanted to be an author and figured it was time to actually make it happen. 

Besides, I’ve also always wanted to read a fantasy novel where the heroine is a busy, tired mom who doesn’t have time for all this hero crap but someone has to do it so everybody move aside and somebody hand her a sword. Added bonus if the book also depicts children in all their blood-thirsty, weapon wielding, fearless, psychopathic glory. 

Because moms are strong and children are brave (and terrifying).

I want to read that book. So I wrote it. 

And I hope someday (hopefully soon) you get to read it. 

But lest you think I have transformed into a fully functional and complex person now, I can assure you I am still the lovable grumpy hot mess of a mom you all know and love. And so, until I can get around to writing my next post about my children showering with their socks on (WHY!?), I’ll leave you with these recent poignant moments of motherhood. 

This morning while getting ready for school, no one was listening and when they did, everything was met with irrational counter-demands and complaining. 

“Sometimes I just feel like I’m failing on all fronts as a mother,” I finally exclaimed in desperation. 

My 8-year-old son, my beautiful baby boy, stopped mid-whine and looked at me with concern on his face. He pulled me down to his level, put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and looked me dead in the eye with his soulful brown eyes. 

“Oh mama,” he said “You’re…I mean, listen, you’re doing okay as a mom.”

That’s right. So sorry, other mothers. The title of World’s Okayest Mom is officially mine. 

And then last night at dinner, my 6-year-old daughter whispered to me “hey, mom, look” and pulled down her sock to reveal a small Lego sword hidden in there. “It’s in case someone does something I don’t like, I can stab them.”

World’s Okayest Mom, indeed. 

6 Comments

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Travel, Writing

Tagged , , , , , , ,

There’s no place like home alone

Posted on August 17, 2022 | Leave a comment

So…here we are.

Hey. 

Hi, I guess. 

Sorry. This just feels so awkward. It’s been so long since we’ve been…alone. As I’m sure you’ve heard (or actually not heard by the silence that has blissfully descended), the family is gone. Off visiting the in-laws. It’s just you and me, house. 

You and me for an entire week. 

I know, I can’t quite believe it either. You can thank the airlines and their ridiculous ticket prices. 

Wow, I can’t even remember the last time it was simply us. It’s been, what, years? Between having small children and then the pandemic with all its remote work and school. You look good, by the way. Although you’ve changed a bit. Though I suppose I have too. We both look older. And after the pregnancies, we both have things that were never put back the way they were. We definitely both creak and groan more. Now if only I could pass mine off as “it’s just my body settling,” eh?

Again, I apologize. I tend to make bad jokes when I’m nervous (and also pretty much during every other emotion, but I digress). 

This is silly though. Back in the day, we spent plenty of time alone together. You’ve seen me naked, for god’s sake. Like A LOT. And you’re still the only one who knows about the weird thing I do in the shower. 

Speaking of bathrooms, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that whenever I go in there it will still be in the same state I left it in. No towels on the floor. No giant mystery mounds of toothpaste in the sink that everyone SWEARS they didn’t do. And, oh my god, this week all pee will actually end up in the toilet where it’s supposed to be! 

We’re LIVING THE DREAM, dear house. 

So, what should we do? Do we reenact “Home Alone” or “Risky Business” first? Or eat? On the couch? While binge watching all the old “Sex in the City” episodes so I can say “wow, this has not held up well” every seven minutes? Or NAP! Oooo…should we nap? Just a nice little 14-hour nap? Or maybe light a bunch of candles and write all my very deep emo thoughts in a journal, straight up college style?

Even better, I could work on the truly terrible first draft of my novel without stopping mid-sentence to scream “turn off the kitchen light!” or “stop murdering each other, you’ll get blood on the floor!” 

Or…do you want to maybe get a bit naughty? Perhaps break open a bottle of wine, turn on some music and FINALLY go through the kids’ toy boxes? We can actually throw crap away! Without tiny humans wailing their keening songs on your floor. (And maybe then I’ll stop having that nightmare where I die under an avalanche of dismembered Mr. Potato Head body parts and what I hope are chocolate-stained stuffies). 

Or, even naughtier, let’s order an irresponsible amount of Chinese food even though we have a fridge full of healthy groceries and spend two hours complaining to my mom on the phone about my ungrateful children. Oof, I got goosebumps just thinking about that one. 

Man, I tell you what, house, I am so happy right now. 

Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I don’t love my family. They are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Truly. 

The best thing that happens day after day after day after middle of the night after before dawn after day to me. 

I can’t wait to miss them.

Leave a comment

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pregnancy, Women, Writing

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dungeons & Dragons for Delinquents & Dummies

Posted on March 2, 2021 | 2 comments

In a misty corner of the Forgotten Realm, on an old road leading into the city of Neverwinter, three strangers meet at a crossroad. Each is coming into the city for the same reason, having been summoned by a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker. 

“Greetings. I am Anneke, an Eladrin Ranger.”

“Hi! My name is Princess! Princess the Princess Daring!”

“I’m Orko and I’m a wizard. But you can’t see me because I cast a spell of invisibility. And I have lasers in my eyes.”

Alas, the wizard was wrong. He had neither the spell for invisibility yet nor did he have lasers in his eyes. 

“Aw, man. Not fair.”

The quest is a seemingly simple, if mysterious, one. The adventurers are to bring a wagonload of provisions to the settlement of Phandalin, with Gundren offering ten gold pieces each. The dwarf is secretive about the reasons for the trip but ten gold pieces has put no one in the mood to ask questions. 

And so, the ranger, the wizard and the cleric…

“What’s a cleric?”

The ranger, the wizard and the priest are walking along the High Road when they veer east along the Triboar Trail. Soon they spot two dead horses in the road, each riddled with arrows. 

“How many arrows? Where are the arrows?”

“What color are the arrows?”

The arrows are numerous and normal arrow colored. They have hit the horses from behind in the rear.

“Rear means butt.”

“Hahahahaha! You said ‘butt!’” 

“We approach the so help me if you don’t stop picking your nose go get a tissue dead horses.”

Suddenly four goblins run out of the bushes and attack. The adventurers…

“Hit them in the eye. With an arrow. Two arrows! Ninety-seven fifty eight arrows!”

Princess the Princess Daring hits a goblin in the eye with one arrow. 

“I throw more arrows at his face!”

The goblin with the arrow in his eye is already dead. 

“But I want to do more things to the goblin!”

“Since I’m a wizard, can I do magic to bring the goblin back to life? So we can kill him again? Using the spell Banana Poop Poop?”

“Hahaha…poop.”

Orko the Wizard tries to cast the spell Banana Poop Poop to bring the goblin back to life but the goblin is still dead. 

“That’s not fair!”

“YEAH. I WANT TO DO MORE KILL-Y STUFF.”

“Alright, well, I’m going to make a side quest to the kitchen to get more wine.”

While Anneke goes off on a noble side quest to refill her comically and unnecessarily large wine glass… 

“…I heard that…”

…the remaining goblins continue to attack. Princess the Princess Daring…

“Can I throw art supplies at them?”

“Art supplies? That’s dumb. You’re a dumb princess.”

“You’re dumb!”

“No, you are!”

“I throw eighty billion forty twenty seven arrows at your eye!”

“I’m back. What did I miss?”

“I throw an ax at Princess the Princess Daring’s head!”

“I punch Orko in his stupid face!”

“Oh yeah, this is definitely bringing us closer together as a family.”

“Can we play this again tomorrow?”

“Where did Daddy…I mean the Dungeon Master go?”

“If I roll a 20, you guys want to see me chug this wine?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!” 

To Be Continued…

Probably. 

2 Comments

Posted in Family, funny, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pop Culture

Tagged , , , , , , ,