Category Archives: Humor

That time when…

That time you tried to recall a humorous anecdote from your kids’ childhood and it turned out to be a scene from It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
Me: “…I can’t remember if that was you or your sister.  I think it was your sister….”
Son: “Wasn’t that Linus talking about the Great Pumpkin?”
Me: “Oh.  Yeah!”
Son: “You’re an idiot!”
::Hilarity ensues:: [end scene]

Pupsanity 101:


I recently got a puppy.  Her name is Penny and she is a 13 week old Lab mix.  Other than being completely adorable, she’s also a whole lot of puppy craziness.  In just a few short weeks, she’s completely turned our house into a disaster area, and my husband into a babbling pile of puppy-loving goo. Even my teenage son, who’s always been afraid of dogs, is completely smitten.  It’s amazing how much influence one little black fur-ball can wield.  20170312_090836

I’ve started posting “pup-dates” on Facebook for my friends, called “Pupsanity 101”.   Several of my friends also have puppies, and are going through the same stages of puppy-hood.  One even suggested I make t-shirts out of my Pupsanity posts.  That’s a definite possibility, but I’ll share them here first.  I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them.  🙂



Convos with My Teenage Son


I can no longer post funny stories about my teenage son on Facebook without him becoming embarrassed.  The kid’s a corker though, and some stuff just needs to be shared.  I’m such a mom!   So I’m borrowing a page from Convos with My 2 Year-Old, (a dad’s video blog that,  if you haven’t already, you really need to check out), and will blog about our conversations instead.   To even further maintain his privacy, as well as my plausible deniability in future defamation suits, he will henceforth be known simply as “Dude”.

Stay tuned.

What’s the secret password?


I am so tired of having to have complicated passwords.  Why do I have to have one capital letter and one number for the password to my grocery store account?  If that actually got hacked, what is at risk?  My penchant for SmartOnes frozen lunches?  OMG, they may steal my gas points!!  I mean…seriously?  That’s the worst that’s going to happen.

Years ago, I tried to simplify my life and create three levels of passwords for online activity.  I had one simple password for all my non-critical interactions; one more complicated password for email, etc.; and one very cryptic password exclusively for my bank account.  Then shit got complicated and websites started putting more demands on me.  The problem is that their level of importance didn’t fit into my nice, neat password boxes.  So, I met the criteria by capitalizing the first letter and adding a number at the end.  Problem solved, right?

Not even close.

They added punctuation.


Okay, so I added a random punctuation mark in the middle of my now capitalized password with the number at the end.

At this point, I’m up to about 85 passwords to remember – my email password, my bank account password and 83 variations of the cheap, useless password, which were supposed to be easy to remember.  Okay, I can do that.

New problem.  They don’t tell you what the password format is for each individual website.  This starts a whole game of “guess which fucking password you used the last time you shopped at you dipshit you”.

Username: – OK.


“sparkle” – NO

“Sparkle” – NO

“Sparkle9” – NO

“Sp@rkle9” – NO!


Secret answer:BiteMe!

New Password:

“sparkle”You cannot re-use a previous password.

“Sparkle”You cannot re-use a previous password.

“Sparkle9” – You cannot re-use a previous password.

“Sp@rkle9”You cannot re-use a previous password.


“Sp@rkle98”Password has been changed.


Grrrrr………Didn’t I already tell you this?


Oh. My. God.  Seriously????

At this point, I throw my phone.  Because of course, I was trying to do all this on a teeny-tiny touchscreen and I now not only need a break, but also an Advil and a very strong drink…at 10 a.m.

And then I get a text message from my kid.

“Mom I’m out of lunch money.  Can you put some on my account?  I’m going to lunch now.”




P.S.  The thing that I failed include in this entry is all the times that I ran through the 82 possible password variations, clicked on the link for my “forgotten password” reminder and discover that I simply had a typo the very first time.

P.P.S – I also failed to mention all the times that I forgot my username, because your username can’t be your real name, email address or anything that you could even remotely identify with.

P.P.P.S. – Oh, I forgot to mention the variations of my secret question because of a phase I went through where I got tired of trying to answer secret questions and just answered everything “blue”.  This regularly has me screaming at the computer “YES THAT IS THE NAME OF THE STREET WHERE I GREW UP!! YOU DON’T KNOW ME MOTHERFUCKER!!” “Oh, sorry…it’s “blue”.

P.P.P.P.S. – This doesn’t even begin to cover my work email, where you have to change the password every six months.

P.P.P.P.P.S. – Or my husband’s accounts.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. – Or my kids.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. –  I need a nap.





The other day, I found my 13 year-old son in the garage, painting and listening to music on the radio.   He’s always been into classic rock, but like many kids, has no idea about the names of the groups or their significance.  What followed was…well… pretty much what you’d expect.

Oh, you’re listening to The Who!

The what?

No, The Who.


The group you’re listening to.  They’re called The Who.

The what?

The Who!  The band!  The band is called The Who!

I don’t get it.

Never mind.

I guess I should just be glad he has good taste in music.  Heaven help me if he discovers The Band.

Dear Geico, e-Trade and AT&T


You’ve ruined commercials.  Because of the Hump Day Camel, E-Trade Baby and those hilarious Kids in the Discussion Group, I can’t stand other advertisements.  

If I can’t stand other advertisements, I won’t buy products.  

If I don’t buy products, my kids won’t have clothes.  

If my kids don’t have clothes, they’ll get kicked out of school.  

Please don’t make my kids get kicked out of school.  


I really need to get out more.  

All That and a Bag of Chips!


Conversation in my house about an hour ago:

Hubster: Honey, who are the Yankees?

Me: New York’s baseball team

H: Who are the Dodgers?

M: LA’s baseball team

H: Who are the Redwings?

M: Detroit’s hockey team

H: The White Sox?

M: Chicago baseball

H: Who are the Blackhawks?

M: Chicago’s hockey team

H: The Seahawks?

M: Seattle’s football team

H: Reds?

M: Cincinnati’s baseball team

H: Sabres?

M: Buffalo’s hockey team

H: Pistons?

M: Detroit’s basketball team

H: Daaayuummm….

M: What’s that all about?

H: You’ll see in a minute.

M: Did my stock go up??  😀

H: Let’s just say I don’t know any women who could do that.

10 minutes later he showed me his Facebook status:

My wife’s respectability level just plummeted. She told me she was rooting for Jeff Gordon to win the Sprint Cup this year.

  • Comment #1 –  At least she didnt say she hopes the Yankees win a game again in their existence.  – about an hour ago · Edited · Like · 1
  • Hubster:  I just peppered her with 10 questions on sports team names. She got all 10 right. I was going to say she wouldn’t know a Yankee from a Dodger, but I guess I would be wrong!

Oh yeah…I rock!  (And all while making General Tso’s chicken too!)

The Pizza Sauce Always Knocks – A comedic drama in two acts


ACT 1:

We join our happy couple during an argument over pizza sauce.  The hubster adamantly insists that he bought one jar, but the wifester knows he bought two.  The following is an actual imitation reproduction of events earlier in the evening today before.  Let’s watch!

H:  I only bought one!!

W:  You bought two!

H:  I bought one!!

W:  You bought two!

H:  ONE!


H:  ONE!


H: Do you always have to be right??

M: YES!  Because I am always right!!  Do you  always have to be right!?

H: NO!

M: Then shut up, because by insisting that I’m wrong, you’re insisting that you have to be right!!

H: Harumph!!  ::storms off upstairs, muttering about women who have to be right all the time::

ACT 2:

We rejoin the happy couple just moments after the wifester retrieves the second jar of pizza sauce from the pantry shelf and the hubster is in the bathroom, with the door locked…umm…”thinking”.

(sound of pizza jar tapping on bathroom door)

:knock knock!:

H:  WHAT!?

W: Guess whooooooo??

H: NO!!

:knock knock knock!:

H: WHAT?????

W: Guess whooooooo!!  I’ll give you three hints…I’m red and in a glass jar and I’m pizza sauce!

H: Can’t I even take a crap in peace!?

W: Say it!!

:knock knock knock!:

W: Say it!!

:knock knock knock!:

W: Say it!!!!!

H: Say WHAT??

W: Say, “you were right, sweetie!!”

H: Asshole!!

W: Say, “you were right, sweetie!!”


W: Say, “you were right, sweetie!!”

:knock knock knock!:

W: Say, “you were right, sweetie!!”

:knock knock knock!:


W: SAY IT!!!

H: you were right, sweetie.

W: Thank! Yoooouuuu!!


:knock knock knock!:

H:  WHAT???

W: Say “as yooooooo-suallll”


W: I love you too, sweetie.


Of course I’m always right, I’m ME!

Your Attention Please!


Ever notice the similarities between attention and money?

I have neither.

I can’t pay attention.  I couldn’t pay attention if it sent me a monthly bill with a little return envelope.

I’m so far in the hole as far as attention is concerned, my attention account has gone to a collection agency.

I get collection calls.

“Hello, can you please pay attention?”

“No, I’m sorry.  I have no attention to spare.”

You could say I have a serious deficit of attention.  There should be a name for that.