Unprotected Left Turns

Hello, all!

Welcome to another exciting edition of:

Questions.

And Their Answers. 

Do you freak out when your son pees on your major appliances?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

Why do I freak out?

Because having someone pee on your washing machine is just nasty-wrong.

What is one thing you wish you were better at?

Sewing.

I loathe sewing.

My lovely sister-in-law, Lisa, tried to give me lessons once.

You see, my girls started in the Awanas program.

And darn my luck, they progressed in the program and were awarded badges.

Horrible, awful, thick, tiny badges that must be sewn onto their vests.

I didn't want to admit to my sister-in-law that I completely forgot one vital part of her lesson:

How to Thread a Needle.

I could not admit this to her.

So, one day, when I was behind about 8 patches, I was determined to figure this out on my own.

So I Googled:

"How to Thread a Needle."

And I found a helpful instructional video!

The Internet.

So helpful.

So, there I am.

Sitting with needle and thread.

I must pause this helpful and informative video many, many, many times, as I cannot get it right.

The stupid thread is too big to go through the stupid holey thing.

I kid you not, I do this for 45 minutes.

Finally, I thread the needle.

I sit back and let the helpful video finish.

At the very end, the guy holds up a curious little trinket and says,

"Or you could just use this."

Hello?

Sewing Dude?

Information that would have been useful at the beginning of your helpful instructional video.

*sigh*

Want to know something sad?

The Lumberjack gives his sister all his mending.

I.

Am.

A.

Shamed.

Mommy! 

Why didn't you teach me how to sew?

Oh the humanity.

Do you cook every night?  Do you like it?  Do you have a signature dish?

Yes, I cook every night.

I do like it.

I would like it more if I didn't have to rear 4 children while cooking.

Signature dish?

Probably Chicken Stir Fry.

It is my Lumberjack's Favorite.

That and Chicken Piccata

Other family favorites are:
Pizza (I use PW crust), Lasagna (from PW), Taco Salad, Mini Meatloaves, and Chicken Burritos.

Interruption:  PW=www.thepioneerwoman.com

Please note that my Lumberjack's two favorite dishes involve chicken in some way.

For those of you who are new-ish to my blog, you may not know that my handsome husband bought us one whole entire cow (or steer,  for the technical reader, such as MindyLou).

So, I started cooking beef.

Seems logical right?

And now, gentle readers, I would like to present to you:

A Conversation Between The Lumberjack and I About 3 Weeks After He Purchased Aforementioned Cow:

LJ (short for Lumberjack!  Focus, people!):  What's for dinner?

Me:  Beef roast.

LJ:  Hmmm . . . you sure have been cooking a lot of beef lately.

Me:  Seriously?

LJ:  What?!

Me:  Dude.  You bought a whole animal.  You helped to end its life.  You assisted with driving the remains to the butcher shop.  You picked up the packaged animal.  You loaded in our freezer.  You told me how much you spent.  I gasped.  You told me I would save all year on the grocery budget because I would not have to buy meat.  What do you want from me?

LJ:  Well, I didn't mean you had to cook beef every night.

So, I bought some chicken, cooked him his favorite stir-fry, and all was right with the world again.

Whatever, Lumberjack.

Whatever.

Fact:  Daisy Mae recently informed me that I make the best homemade salad.

So, there you go.

I am a culinary genius.

You are having a bad day.  Who do you talk to?

Hmmm . . . .

Well, that depends on the situation that has arisen to cause my bad day.

But, I generally talk to the following people, depending on the circumstances:

Amanda:

Amanda gets me.

Fact:  Amanda has known me since kindergarten.

Fact:  Amanda gives it to me straight.

Fact:  Amanda also has 4 kids.  She can identify with my woes.

Amanda and I have an unspoken agreement.

Whenever one of us is pregnant, which seems to happen often, we always call each other first.

And the conversation usually goes like this:

Unpregnant one:  Hey!

Just-found-out-she's pregnant one: Hey.

Unpregnant one:  What's up?

Just-found-out-she's pregnant one:  Well  . . . um

Unpregnant one:  Oh, dear.  Pregnant again?

Just-found-out-she's pregnant one:  Yup.

Unpregnant one:  Let us pray.

 

Melissa, aka Bimlissa

We have girls the same age.

We share recipes, clothes, and lots of inside jokes.

She even gave me her Perfect Black Sweater that Even Has Ruffles.

Just because I liked it.

And since she got me started on the whole blog thing, she gets to listen to all my questions/concerns/paranoia regarding said blog.

She loves it.

My Mom.

I can talk to her about anything . . . except things that would involve phrases such as, "wink, wink."

Mom!  My kids are ruffians!

Mom!  How do you seperate eggs?

Mom!  What is the difference between gross and net on a paycheck?

Mom!  Why do I still have acne?

Mom!  Why didn't you teach me how to sew?

And, finally, if I am feeling really desperate, I talk to this stud-muffin:

I kid!

I jest!

I talk to him the most.

 

What is your quirkiest habit and how long have you had it?

I refuse to make unprotected left turns.

I literally plan out my driving routes to ensure that, if the need for a left turn arises, I will be making said turn at a helpful,and safer, traffic light.

How long have I done this?

Ever since my driving instructor informed me of the dangers of unprotected left turns and scared the living daylights out of me.

Why anyone would want to avoid a traffic light is beyong me.

You know that old lady who drives 58 mph on the freeway and starts signaling for her exit 2 miles in advance?

I want to be her when I grow up.

 

Happy Tuesday!