Confessions of a Lumberjack's Wife

I found Kira's blog, Kissing the Joy as it Flies, a bit ago, and I thoroughly enjoy it.

Thoroughly.

Anyways, she does this thing called "Fess Up Friday," and I thought I would join in today.

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1.  As I was tidying up the house for the 97th time, I noticed a bit of debris hiding under the couch.  Usually, I make one of the children do such inferior work.

Me?  Crawling around on my hands and knees to pick up junk?

Please.

 Unfortunately, the children were already engaged in other tasks, so the job was up to me.

Now . . . my boys have this odd, naughty habit of stealing food and hiding it so they can enjoy their treats whenever they please.

I find it irksome.

So, I saw what appeared to be a mushed up Tootsie Roll amidst some other odds and ends yesterday.

Guess what looks like a mushed up Tootsie Roll?

One, lone kernel of poo.

2.  Come on!

I can't be the only gal who has random kernels of poo hiding under her couch?!

Right?

Right?

Hello?

 Let's move on. 

3.  When I was a young girl in grade school, an older boy began to fancy me. 

I can't say that I blame him.

My brother caught wind of this news and informed my dad post haste.

Remember my dad?

Growing up, my siblings and I were constantly tattling on each other.  We were loving and considerate like that.

Anyways, when my dad heard that a BOY liked me, we of course all got a lecture and I was told that I was to never be speaking to the boy on the phone or doing any other nonsense of the sort.

One day, the phone rings.

Caller:  Hello, Sir.  Is Taylor there?

My Dad:  Yes.  Hold on.

Me:  Hello?
Caller:  Hi, Taylor!  This is Johnny-Who-Likes-You from school.

So, I talked to that boy on the phone while looking strangely at my dad, who was clearly trying to sabotage me.

I mean, what do you do when your dad tells you to talk to a boy on the phone right after telling you you may never talk to a boy on the phone?

Me:  Dad!  That was the boy from school!

Dad:  No!  That was a girl!

Me:  No!  That was the boy.

Dad:  Oh.  It sounded like a girl.

Mother had to remind father that sometimes grade school boys' voices haven't changed and I had to tell Johnny that he really couldn't call me anymore.

4.  The first time I tried to pluck my eyebrows, I ended up cutting them in half after mistaking tweezers for tiny scissors.

It happens.

5.  My nickname is Doodles.  No one knows why.

6.  While in the Walmart bathroom with Little Dude yesterday (always a treat), he was peeking under the door to see the lady in the next stall.

Fantastic.

Little Dude:  Look, Mommy!  That lady has pretty toes!

Me:  Shhhh!  Come back!

Little Dude:  But her toes!  I like them!  They wee nice!

Handsome Dude was a few stalls down, taking care of business all by himself, like all 4 year olds should.

As I am trying to keep Little Dude from touching the lady's toes, Handsome Dude is hollering minute by minute updates to me on the progress of his elimination.

"Almost done, Mom!"

"Oh.  Wait!  I need to go poopy!"

(straining) "It's a hard poopy!  I'm still trying!"

"All done!"

"Wait!  More poopy!"

7.  The clutch in my husband's truck has been acting all temperamental. 

David:  I need you to follow me to the mechanic tonight.

Me:  Okie dokie.

David:  I don't think the truck will make it there.  You might have to tow me.

Now.  Have you ever experienced this fun activity with your spouse?

If not, I implore you to try it immediately.

It's a true test of your marriage.

So, we get about 1 mile away from the house and the truck breaks down.  Therefore and henceforth, I had to tow him the rest of the way.

I must admit, I have done this so many times it is almost becoming old hat to me.

Cause (or cuz, if you prefer) I'm awesome like that.

Towing the truck caused great distress for the children who were shouting at me the whole time.

"Mom!  What's wrong with Dad's truck?"

"Mom!  Did you break Dad's truck?"

"Mom!  Where are we taking Dad's truck?"

*cry,wail, sob*

Finally, I just told them that Mommy's truck (I drive a Ford Excursion. Holla.) is simply bigger and better than Daddy's and sometimes Daddy's truck needs Mommy's truck's help.

They looked at me admiringly and hushed up so I could finished towing my husband's weak, girly truck.

***

That is all.

If you are feeling frisky today, you should head on over to Kira's blog and tell her Holla!

Her fess up post is quite humorous.

And, her blog is always a delight.

Later, dudes!