A guy I met once on a wine tour/bus trip shared this fact about marriage with me:
Marriage. It’s not all pixie sticks and butterflies. ~ Mitch
I thought that was rather prolific and true. Sure it came from one newlywed to another, so neither of us really had that much experience in this whole married life thing, but I agreed with him.
Not more than one hour later, Mitch also asked about my husband’s and my plans for having children, a natural step after marriage, but I felt it was a little soon to be discussing plans for my uterus given we’d: 1) just met, 2) had been drinking copious amounts of wine, and 3) it’s my uterus and none of his business. Thank you very much. (My mama raised me with manners.)
Still, this Mitch guy had a point. Marriage is not all pixie sticks and butterflies. Sometimes the person we love, the very individual we picked out of all other individuals – like ones who know how to clean up their beard hair trimmings or put the toilet seat down *swoon*– sometimes they morph into something else. Their alter ego.
Getting to Know Your Spouse’s Alter Ego
My husband has an alter ego. He denies it because I can’t remember the name we gave him, and if I can’t remember his name, then he doesn’t exist. But we wives all know that’s bogus. It’s BOGUS I tell you, Joseph Judgey McBelchins!
My alter ego has long been named. She goes by Grumpy Pumpkin. Which sounds adorable and cute and quirky, but that’s what makes it so annoying. It’s all very Anne-of-Green-Gables-“He-called-me-CARROTS!!”-esque.
Grumpy Pumpkin rears her horned head when:
- she hasn’t eaten in awhile
- she’s woken from her beauty sleep because friends of Acoustic Van Man-Coozie are strumming the guitar and bellowing song lyrics at 3 in the morning
- she asks a question and gets answered by Deadpan McBlank Stare
- she hasn’t eaten in awhile
- and/or she doesn’t like what she’s eating
I maintain I am not the only party in my household with an alias. But until He Who Shall Not Be Nicknamed gets an identity, I can’t call him out on it.
This is where you come in.
Help me name my spouse’s alter ego.
Here are some helpful examples of things that lure his bad boy out:
- Timeliness – my hubby is exceptionally prompt, but I say it’s called an itinerary not the Iditarod
- Timeliness – the man has scheduled poops – WTF?
- Cleanliness – supposedly, the house is not clean until I remove my piles of gloves, magazines, car keys, DVDs, postage stamps, notebook paper, AA batteries, my external hard drive, a bag of Dove chocolate, and a pair of earrings from the kitchen table
- Repeating Himself – I may, or may not, have the worst short term mem- OHMYGOSH! WHAT BRINGS YOU ALL OVER HERE? … You’re reading my blog? … I have a blog?
- Inconsistent Shaker Skills – At our local wedding ceremony, we performed a musical number in which I desired to play the tambourine and was downgraded to an egg shaker and forced to practice under Nazi-regime (which isn’t an exaggeration because food was withheld from me) because apparently I have “inconsistent shaker skills.”
So, I’ve created a poll with some potential names for my honey’s alter ego.
Vote for your favorite! Or better yet, write in your own!
Does your partner have a cranky alias? Do tell!
Set your coffee down, folks! It’s time for another round of “Sh*t My Husband Says While Sleeping,” the reoccurring blog series that pops up…whenever I remember to write down the batsh*t things comin’ outa his mouth!
First, meet my husband.
This is Joe.
He likes short walks through the grocery store, old school Keanu Reeves movies,
and growing facial hair.
Now, Joe talks in his sleep. When that happens, he occasionally refers to me as “his little pear juice.”
It isn’t all the time, and he can’t control it, but he says the WEIRDEST things when he sleep talks.
Here are a few of his latest sleep disturbances…
Example No. 1
Joe: Did you wanna take the bear?
Me: What bear? What’s his name?
Me: Where’d you meet him?
Example No. 2
Joe: Mmmm Mmmm good! That’s what it is.
Me: What’s good?
On the flip side, if his REM antics become popular, I might consider switching the tag line of this blog to “Mmmm Mmmm good. That’s what it is.” How do you think that’ll look on a business card?
Where do YOU think Joe met the bear?
Hey Dudes and Dudettes,
It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged about my progress with the To Be Read Pile Challenge, so I thought I’d better “update my status.” You see I’ve been reading a lot about relationships lately, so I have three titles of love advice for anyone to enjoy.
And as a refresher, if you’re unfamiliar with the TBR Pile Challenge, it’s a reading contest hosted by Adam over at Roof Beam Reader. The goal is to complete in 12 months time 12 books that have been sitting on your bookshelf for a year or more. You know the ones, they linger in the ever-looming “to be read” pile. At nine months in, I’m just two books away from completing the challenge this year. Holla!
What have I recently crossed off my list?
Little known fact about me, or maybe it’s no secret, I love learning about sex and sexuality. I minored – and only because it wasn’t offered as a major at the time – in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. I’m passionate about women’s issues and rights, and I’m thrilled to be working at a reproductive health clinic in my town. Reading about the history and science of sex research was right up my alley.
The author, Mary Roach, is quite possibly the queen of nonfiction exposition on risque topics. Her other books dive into the worlds of human cadavers, the digestive track, and what happens when we die. For Bonk, the woman volunteered herself and her husband to be lab rats for sex research on orgasms. That’s dedication.
In Bonk, not only will you learn about the doctors and scientists behind the “G-spot,” the infamous Kinsey “attic sessions,” or just how artificial insemination happens in a pig, but so much more!
Alright, let’s tame things down a bit. For all you Downton Abbey diehards and regency era wannabees, I suggest you give Daisy Goodwin’s The American Heiress a try. My book club read this one and it was well enjoyed.
Cora Cash is an American debutante. She is wealthy, beautiful, and definitely high society. Her mother, opinionated at her core, has high plans of wedding her daughter to an English Duke, which would grant Cora the one thing she doesn’t have…a title.
It won’t surprise readers to learn that Cora is soon wed in the novel, however can Cora’s marriage last when she comes from a different world than her husband? So many unknowns!
Escape on a whirlwind love affair in Europe, walk the halls of the great English mansions, and go galloping with the finest – or are they – members of society.
By and far one of my favorite reads this year! I can’t believe I didn’t read it sooner! After all, the film adaptation by Alfred Hitchcock is tied for first place (with North by Northwest) as my favorite film of his.
Be very aware, young lovers, when falling head over heels into this tale. A young woman of unfortunate circumstance believes her luck has turned around when she meets and marries millionaire, Maxim De Winter, owner of the luscious estate, Manderley. But all is not well inside these walls. The great rooms of the house, the garden with its roses, and the forgotten cottage down by the beach – they are all haunted by Rebecca – the first Mrs. De Winter.
A shocking truth brings the honeymoon to a miserable end in this chilling story by Daphne Du Maurier. I can’t tell you what happens, just read it for yourself!
What have you been reading? Are you participating in the TBR Pile Challenge? How’s it going? Got any recommendations for me?
Well the cat’s out of the bag now and we revealed our big surprise to our wedding guests and you that we’ve secretly been married for a month now.
Surprise!!! *throws rice confetti and releases the doves*
Here’s what people are saying about it:
“It was the best wedding I’ve never been to!”
“Most fun we’ve had at a wedding in a long time!”
“It’s so romantic and beautiful.”
“How did you keep it a secret so well? We loved it!”
We are eternally grateful that everyone supported our actions and thought what we did was romantic and dreamlike. It really was.
I mean, look where we were! Can you blame us?
Our wedding day in Santorini was relaxing. Since our wedding wasn’t until sunset, we actually lounged the whole morning, swimming and hanging out in our private jacuzzi with glasses of Assyrtiko wine.
I’ve heard that every wedding day has its minor glitches and mine involved my flat iron.
While we had planned ahead and purchased an international adapter plug, Joe had warned me about voltage conversion issues. So far, things had worked out when it came to charging our camera and my laptop. While getting ready for the big event, I plugged my flat iron in to use it to smooth my bangs down and planned to curl the rest of my hair.
Yes, I know that sounds weird. I use my FLAT iron to CURL my hair. Just trust me it works, and I like how the curls turn out better than with a curling iron.
I had recently just purchased a new flat iron as well. It was so beautiful, a shiny new red handle and it worked really well.
I was straightening my bangs when I heard this little sizzling noise. And about 5 seconds later I dropped the flat iron to the floor because that sizzle I heard was the inside of the HANDLE burning up and scalding my palm. VOLTAGE CONVERSION ISSUE!!!
This day is not about my hair. This day is not about my hair. This day is not about my hair.
Those are the words I repeated to myself in the mirror as I stared at my straight hair. They were followed by gratitude to the gods for the fact that I had smoothed my bangs and NOT begun curling my hair or else I’d have ended up with some half-headed poodle-ized catastrophe.
And my new straightener…ended up in the trash. 😦
In the end it worked out.
Joe also played a trick on me on our wedding day. We’d been talking the week before we left about our wedding vows and all he’d tell me about his were that he “had a good idea” of what he was going to say and he didn’t need to write them down because he didn’t want them “to sound rehearsed.”
Okay, fine. But know that I had stepped up my game when it came to writing wedding vows. When Joe and I first started dating, I was still in college and wrote a lot of spoken word poems. Some even, for Joe. It’d been years since I’d written one. As a meaningful gesture, I wrote my vows in a spoken word poem for him.
The morning of our wedding, we both had to rewrite our vows nicely on fresh paper because we’d only packed the rough drafts. So I wrote mine out on one end of our room, and he wrote his on the other. I finished rewriting mine, meanwhile Joe is still sitting there – slightly staring into the abyss, periodically writing something down.
That worm! Is he just writing his vows NOW?!!
So our wedding time came and I was unsure what Joe’s vows would be. I was half preparing for a bulleted list of nonsense.
So what the heck had he been twiddling with for so freaking long?
My twerp of a husband was messing with me. That whole time he was sitting there pretending to struggle with his vows, he was scribbling Bruno Mars song lyrics on the back of the paper!
I’ll get you for this, my pretty!
Everyone we worked with from our Grecian wedding planner’s company was wonderful. We had so much fun laughing with them, enjoying our happy moment of foreverness, taking in as much beauty as our eyes would let us, and sharing cake and champagne with them as well as our hotel staff, who felt like our long distance Greek family members while we stayed there.
Thank you to everyone who supported us and our big surprise!
We so enjoy sharing our 2 special weddings with you all.
Have you ever kept a big secret from your closest loved ones?
How did it go over when you finally told them?
Wedding weekend extravaganza is officially over. Joe and I were married this weekend…
Or were we?
That’s right, we had a bit of a surprise during our ceremony.
But now the cat’s out of the bag, and you all can be in on it too! During the wedding, we showed a slideshow, and today I’d like to share it with all of you! (It’s 7 minutes long, so those wanting to jump to the really good part, should fast forward to 4:30ish.)
*All music composed and/or arranged by Joe Gantzer, except the Greek song, all vocals by Joe Gantzer and Jess Witkins. The Disney song has been rearranged by Joe Gantzer.
Kah-lee-MER-ah, Everyone! (That means ‘good morning’ in Greek! And yes, I wrote it phonetically, because I do not have the Greek alphabet on my keyboard, nor would most of you be able to read it if I did not do so.)
Thank you to Misty and Deanne for keeping you all company while I was away!
Greece was magnificent! We thoroughly enjoyed our pre-wedding honeymoon (yep, it’s backwards thanks to Joe’s gig schedule, but I’m just happy we got to get away).
We started in Santorini, which was breathtaking.
We stayed in one of the southern most cities, Akrotiri, which is the historical part of the island. It was quiet and scenic as our room overlooked the caldera, with Nea Kameni (the volano island) right in the middle.
This is what breakfast was like each day.
We rented ATV’s a couple times and cruised all around the island, checking out the northern most city Oia (pronounced Eeh-ah), relaxed in Perissa on the Perevolos black sand beaches, and headed down to the southern tip where we watched the sunset from the rocks around the lighthouse.
Our next stop was Athens. We left the beaches and wineries of Santorini for the Capital city. We got lost – in a good way – on the streets of the Plaka. We buzzed about Adrianou Street and ventured out to dine in street cafes where we listened to local musicians and stared up at the Acropolis.
On one of the hottest mornings of our trip, we trekked to the Acropolis. And it was totally worth the heat.
We visited the National Archeological Museum, the largest in the country. My favorite room showed the items and murals found in ancient Thira (Santorini) in the ruins of Akrotiri – an ancient trade port that was covered for centuries by volcanic ash and uncovered in the 1800’s. We walked the ruins in Akrotiri, and had to wait till we got to Athens to see the murals that were recovered there.
Famous Mural – The Boxing Boys
Did you all read Deanne’s guest post about the Greek Changing of the Guard? We did see the Evzones.
We had a date night at one of the most famous outdoor theaters, Cine Thissio, which was built in 1935.
And of course, the FOOD was amazing!!!
1.) Shockingly, I’m sure to you all, we only got kind of lost one and a half times. The first was after our ship docked in Piraeus and we had to find the metro to connect to Athens and check into our hotel. This was all after 9 o’clock at night, so it was dark out and there weren’t any signs for the metro that we could see.
We basically got there by meandering the city and following some other tourists for a bit, all while dragging our luggage along. We were hot, sweaty messes when we finally checked into our hotel. Oh…and I had what I thought was motion sickness, but ended up being vertigo, so I threw up a bunch that night!
2.) Yes, I got vertigo – actually still have vertigo – and that made touring Athens interesting. We had to take several breaks throughout the day for me to sit and cool down and start believing the walls and pavement were not in fact coming after me. For the record, vertigo sucks.
3.) The second time we got lost was our first full day in Athens. We had a map of the city, which was in English, but once you venture away from the main streets of the Plaka, most street signs are only in Greek, so the map didn’t help a ton. And it was also 99,000 degrees Celsius. Yes, Celsius!
We were literally wandering inside the very mouth of Hades!
4.) And this one is minor, truly. But, I did get me some sun poisoning in Santorini. As any good ginger knows, being in too much sun will cause one to self combust, and sauntering all over that beautiful island caused my arms to break out in some form of minor hive-age.
I paid a visit to a pharmacy in Fira where a very kind Greek woman helped me purchase what I hope was Grecian benadryl and anti-itch cream. The “Greek-adryl” box was entirely in Greek and her only counsel on the drug was to take it for 5-6 days. I didn’t know the dosage or whether the stuff was non-drowsy or what, so I resigned to only taking it at bedtime, wherein I seemed to conclude that it was in fact the drowsy version. It worked wonders on our final flight home in which Joe tells me there was some serious turbulence and a lightening storm that I completely missed. 😀
The anti-itch cream made me laugh as it was in Greek and Grenglish? My favorite part of the tube is where it read that the cream helps with “the itch of elderly people” followed directly by “contact with jellyfish.” It was most comforting to know that if I came in contact with either an old person or a jellyfish, I was covered itch-wise.
That’s our story! All in all, a very happy honeymoon!
As they say in Greece, “Cheers” or “Yah-mas!”
By Misty’s Laws
Since Jess is about to embark on a journey of love and foreverness that many before her, including me, have taken (and somehow survived), I thought this might be a good time share my own wedding story, which might serve as a cautionary tale for her upcoming nuptials.
I was married on a rainy day in October, almost 12 years ago. Leading up to that wedding, I was what could best be described as a dragon breathing, hair-trigger, insane beast . . . better known as a Bridezilla. It happens to all of us. I’m sure not Jess, of course, but pretty much everyone else. I never thought in my life that I would be someone who stressed over details such as table
settings and flower arrangements, but there I was.
But a really strange and wonderful thing happened the day of the wedding. I woke up and I had the weirdest feeling . . . complete and utter calm. Today was the day and it was all over. The planning, the stress, the details… everything was finished. All that was left was to get married. It was incredible.
Although I seemed very calm and happy, the people around me were wary of my new state of being. They had experienced the monster I had become and were skeptical of my newfound peacefulness. Hence, when we arrived at the hair salon and I realized that we had left my headpiece back at the hotel and asked my dad to run back to fetch it, they expected some type of rant or fuming state because of this mishap, and I watched as my bridesmaids and mom exchanged wary glances. But
instead, I serenely sat and drank my mimosa, and patiently waited for it to arrive.
And despite the clouds and drizzle outside, I felt fine and knew it would be a beautiful day. Some people say that rain on your wedding day is good luck, and I was convinced at that time of the truth of
When we returned to the hotel room to get dressed and ready for the wedding, there were a million people in the hotel room and I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. It was the closest I got that
day to becoming annoyed. But, instead of yelling and throwing a childish fit, I just took a breath and focused on getting into my dress.
Once everyone was ready to go, and the photographer had snapped a few “getting ready” shots, we went downstairs to catch the limo to the chapel . . . but it wasn’t there. It was running late. My maid of honor had the company on the phone and was very firmly explaining that this was unacceptable and that we couldn’t be late, but I just spent the time getting some more beautiful shots taken in front of the hotel. I was still happy and calm.
The limo arrived soon after and we were off to the wedding. By the time we arrived, the sky had cleared up and it was a beautiful day with a gorgeous blue sky above us. The wedding itself went smoothly, but I later found out that as we were doing a final prep before I walked down the aisle, somehow we got lipstick on the wrap I was wearing around my shoulders. My bridesmaids wisely did not inform me of this, and instead just reconfigured the wrap to cover it up. They told me later and I found it pretty funny.
The reception was wonderful . . . mostly. However, all those little details that I had stressed over and meticulously planned? I didn’t care at all. People were eating, drinking, dancing, and having a great time. And so was I. Every once in a while, somebody would walk over and place a drink in my and my husband’s hands, but because we were always meeting and greeting with people, and then later dancing, we would usually set them down somewhere and forget about them, until someone brought us another. This is to say that we weren’t drinking very much . . . at first.
Here is where we face our greatest problem of the day, and where I finally lose that zen-like calm. It started the moment when my husband’s best buddies from high school realized that there was an
actual bar in the lobby of the hotel, directly outside our reception hall. And when they decided to forego the open bar we had paid for for our wedding guests, and instead decided that they would go across the lobby and buy shots. Mainly . . . mind-erasers. These shots were then fed to my new husband, who drank them out of a sense of fun and responsibility, not because he’s a huge drinker. A few of those bad boys, and it was all over. Luckily, this was at the tail end of the night, but our last dance was not pretty, let me tell you. I was holding him up as we clumsily swayed on the dance floor.
Once the festivities were over, and we went to the front desk to get the keys to our honeymoon suite, the night desk clerk was clueless as to what we were talking about. In attempting to explain to him that we were the couple who just had the 4 hour reception in the room directly beside his desk, and that there should be a room waiting for us (supposedly filled with flowers, champagne and strawberries, per our prior request), he just looked at us blankly. This was about the time when my extremely inebriated husband decided that he had had enough of this guy, and wanted to fight him. So, we then had to hold him back and firmly place him on a couch across the lobby to chill out. By the
time they found us a room (not the honeymoon suite, just a room), we were too tired to care. One of us was about to pass out, as well, so you can imagine how exciting my wedding night was!
So, that is the story of my magical wedding day. Mostly serene, until the very final moments. To avoid this, I would suggest not having your wedding where there is a real live bar close enough for shot
purchases. Either that, or put something in your wedding vows for Joe to recite, wherein he promises not to get wasted on your wedding night! Mazel Tov and good luck!
Misty is a lawyer by day, ninja by night. At least one of those things are true. Recently, she discovered that she is growing a baby ninja, and can’t wait until the baby starts training . . . inside her belly. Misty sometimes finds the time to write about various inane subjects at her blog: Misty’s Laws.
A few nights ago I had the craziest wedding dream yet!
You already know about my weird dream where I was on the road to interrogate a killer, but stopped to crash someone’s wedding reception just to take notes on what I liked and disliked about it. Note* I do NOT like Skittles as party favors.
But this last dream was far more outlandish!
First off, my dress started out as my real wedding gown, but somewhere in the dream it morphed into a gaudy black sequin and lace ensemble with layers of petticoats underneath and puff sleeves!
“How’s my hair look?” I asked.
She wouldn’t answer me. She just kept prattling on about other things! I begged her to go to the restroom with me so I could see my hair in the mirror. It had been styled by a team of professionals and I badly wanted to see how it turned out.
When we finally got to the bathroom, Cat tried to block me from the mirror. I managed to step around her and catch my reflection.
The top of my head was a beehive of curls, mounded in a great glump. The back of my hair was a mohawk, gelled straight out to a point!
That’s not even the worst part.
I didn’t know what to do. Where does one even begin to fix a headdress that dangles lady knickers?
I went in search of my family.
When I got to the reception hall, guests were milling about restlessly. A few were seated at tables with odd chairs and stained linens. The staff on hand were way behind cleaning up from a prior event, so nothing was ready for us! There were hardly any chairs for people to sit on, and there was nothing for them to eat or drink but a few water glasses one staff member was lazily dropping ice cubes into, one by one, with a tongs.
Someone had asked our entertainment for the night to start performing, so the side room was filled with Asian dancers moving melodically. But no one was watching them. Because there were no chairs to sit on, guests assumed they were not supposed to be in that room yet. Only a few people who stood in the doorway witnessed any of the dancers we invited.
I started looking for my family again and saw my father, who was carrying in the wedding cake. He was dressed in a Bill Cosby-esque sweater! For his daughter’s wedding?!
Apparently that was the last straw as I woke up right after that, but WOW! I mean, what a circus!
I sat up in bed, stupefied. I turned, looking at Joe, “I had a nightmare.”
Here’s hoping our wedding will include less crazy hair and more of this…
As little girls we daydream about what our wedding day will be like.
I was so obsessed with it I wore my grandmother’s old slips and paraded around our front porch, two steps at a time and always in a straight line. I went through boxes of kleenex by piecing together homemade gowns for my Barbie dolls.
Now that I’m actually wedding planning, I can’t wait for the day to be over and the stress of really planning a wedding to be gone.
Soooo THAT’S the reason all the Disney movies go from first kiss to wedding to credit roll. It wouldn’t be a fairytale anymore if you had to listen to Cinderella talk about table settings with her stepsisters. Or see Snow White hit her prince over the head with the registry scanner because she wants 500-thread count sheets and he wants low ball glasses on clearance.
But as of last week, I made the last payment on my wedding gown and got all my accessories.
Let’s hope it’s an improvement from my dress-up box days.
What things did you daydream about as a kid that were different once you experienced them?
I’m so pleased to welcome our first Guilty Pleasures Guest of the year! If you haven’t been following Julie Glover on her blog Threading the Labyrinth, you’re missing out! With posts on wordplay and word games, ROW80 motivations, and even High School memories, Julie is a fun and inspiring blogger! Just check out her bio!
As a city girl from the Lone Star State, Julie Glover owns both go-go boots and cowboy boots; has been to Broadway shows and rodeos; enjoys chateaubriand and rattlesnake sausage; and likes Led Zeppelin and Rascal Flatts. When she isn’t daydreaming about a personal chef or wrestling the family’s laundry, Julie pens mysteries and young adult fiction.
Thanks so much for kicking off our Guilty Pleasure Fridays, Julie! Can’t wait to hear what no good you’re up to! Take it away!
When I received word from Jess that I would get to write a guest post about my guilty pleasure, I struggled with the topic:
Um, okay, what’s my guilty pleasure? *tapping fingers on desk* Guilty pleasure, guilty pleasure… *tapping*
I can’t think of anything! I have NO guilty pleasures.
Am I doing nothing decadent?! What happened to the rebel I once was? Was I ever a rebel? Sheesh.
I’m not perfect. I’m plenty guilty. I swipe my son’s chocolate when he’s not looking and neglect housework so long that a HazMat team might simply throw up their hands. I can be selfish and annoying. But I’m not proud of that. It’s not pleasurable.
So what do I take pleasure in…that maybe I shouldn’t do quite so much?
Aha! Embarrassing my kids.
Which isn’t hard now that they are both teens.
I don’t want to cause permanent shame or public humiliation or spur my children to consider joining the circus instead because those people must draw less attention than their uncool mother. But hey, they embarrassed me like crazy when they were toddlers throwing fits in Walmart, Chuck E. Cheese, McDonald’s, you-name-it!
A sampling of the payback:
Mama in Pajamas. A couple of years ago, my sons kept missing the bus and asking me to drive them to school. Taking them there and returning home sucked about 30 minutes out of my day. That’s 30 minutes I could be cleaning, writing, painting my toenails. Unacceptable!
I explained that I would happily take them to school if they missed the bus. But I would wear whatever I happened to have on. Note that the rest of my family showers and leaves before I even start my daily grooming.
The first time my son missed the bus, I drove him to school in my jammies, robe, slippers and let him out in the car line.
The second time he missed, I parked the car. And walked him to the entrance—jammies, robe, slippers.
That evening, my husband suggested to me and said son that I give him a goodbye hug next time. After all, our son needed to know how much we love him.
He was never late again. *grin*
Mama Loves You. The threat that I might kiss a kid in public is enough to send either boy into pleas for mercy. Those little boys who once gave me big hugs and smackeroos when they were in preschool are now young men who prefer to save their lips for future girlfriends.
Yet I constantly try to give those big boys some much-needed PDA. And I snapped this pic, which could be used at any time to embarrass my son on Facebook.
Oh wait. I guess I already did it here. *grin*
Mama Has Sex. This is a shocker to all children everywhere, right?
If we ever want to clear the room, all my husband and I need to do is melt into one another’s arms and let our mouths comingle. Four rolled eyes and five seconds later, our kids are nowhere to be seen.
But our vocal flirtations really leave my kids blushing crimson and me tickled pink. For instance, the time during dinner when my husband alluded to his desire to see me shirtless left my sons speechless.
Guess they know now. Mama and Daddy didn’t just do it those two times. *grin*
I threaten to embarrass my kids more than I do. Since I have managed to embarrass my kids a time or two or twenty, they’re never quite certain when I might act. Keeping your kids on edge a little can be a good thing.
In case my sons are reading this post, I want to assure them that my karaoke act is ready at any time that the music piped through grocery store so moves me. I kept all of your naked baby pictures. And the school dance needs more chaperones, especially ones who can teach both the Chicken Dance and Gangnam Style.
Thanks again Julie for guest posting! Remind me not to get on your bad side, I fear the repercussions! I can just see it now, you walking into the DFW Writers Conference in your jammies, robe and slippers!
Got a guilty pleasure story to share? Can you top Julie’s embarrassing kid stories? Share with us!