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Source: http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default

1. <?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534</id><updated>2024-10-07T00:45:45.086-05:00</updated><category term="advice"/><category term="anecdotes"/><category term="funny"/><category term="motherhood"/><category term="children"/><category term="christmas"/><category term="holidays"/><category term="erikarobin"/><category term="corn"/><category term="Erika"/><category term="entertaining"/><category term="finding jesus"/><category term="kids"/><category term="writer of wrongs"/><category term="allie brosh"/><category term="bajingo"/><category term="blog"/><category term="boogers"/><category term="brinkley"/><category term="clowns scare me"/><category term="dog"/><category term="friends"/><category term="inappropriate"/><category term="moms"/><category term="ninja"/><category term="oh christmas tree"/><category term="parenthood"/><category term="parenting"/><category term="pee"/><category term="pink"/><category term="pizza"/><category term="psychic"/><category term="random ninja"/><category term="samantha"/><category term="stories"/><category term="sugar packets"/><category term="talent"/><category term="vagina"/><category term="vulva"/><category term="your branches green delight us"/><category term="zombies"/><title type='text'>Random Ninja - Writer of Wrongs</title><subtitle type='html'>Kicking Motherhood&#39;s Ass Since 1999.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-1546049893754628201</id><published>2021-02-20T16:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2021-02-20T16:35:24.461-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ew! Mommy Nasty! - the holiday Kiosk Sniper Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
2. <span style="font-size: small;">My kids still ask me to tell the story of "that one time at the mall."</span></div>
3. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
4. <span style="font-size: small;">I am only too happy to oblige, and it goes a little something like this:
5.  </span><l< div="">
6. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
7. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
8. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
9. <span style="font-size: small;">
10.  
11. I was at the mall with the spawn,
12. heading toward the exit when a woman approached me. I know I never should have made eye contact, but she wasn't
13. standing right near her kiosk, so I was caught completely off guard when this woman I'd never met before stepped out and asked me what brand of hair straightener I used.
14. I had flat ironed my hair that day (a mistake I won't be making again) and I totally thought she was complimenting me for real. This woman then
15. beckoned me over to her little shop of horrors.  I blame being hungry
16. and tired on my inability to say no, because I followed her
17. like an obedient lap dog.  You would have thought she had enticed me
18. with a fistful of bacon. Mmm...bacon.</span><l< div="">
19. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
20. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
21. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
22. <span style="font-size: small;">She
23. led me to her stand, where I thought I'd hear a little blurb about how
24. great this new hair straightener is and instead I found myself with a gigantic
25. glob of Dead Sea Salt Exfoliant on my hand. </span></div>
26. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
27. <br></div>
28. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
29. <span style="font-size: small;">"Let us rub that in", she said quickly.  </span></div>
30. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
31. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
32. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
33. <span style="font-size: small;">Holding
34. my hand over a white plastic bowl, she played twenty questions with me,
35. asking me my name, how old I was, if I had a husband, how long we've
36. been married and whether or not I was gainfully employed while she exfoliated the everloving crap out of my arm.  Oh, she was
37. good, this one.  She had me right where she wanted me: wet and trapped.  I knew she had a towel hidden there somewhere, but I couldn't see it
38. and I wasn't too keen on the idea of walking off with one hand covered
39. in this weird Dead Sea Salt scrub, so I remained her captive customer.  She then showed
40. the children and me just how terrific this product was as she hosed my hand
41. off with a spray bottle of water.  </span></div>
42. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
43. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
44. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
45. <span style="font-size: small;">Then...it got gross. And weird. And actually sort of rude.</span></div>
46. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
47. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
48. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
49. <span style="font-size: small;">She
50. laughed loudly as she told my children, "Look how NASTY Mommy is!" and how
51. "Mommy need a shower!", while surveying the depths of the white plastic
52. bowl which was now full of water and my dead skin.  </span></div>
53. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
54. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
55. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
56. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJl2teJ453cw3pJ3orwG_kgG7aykS5TPOmG8pB6aBqO6D6P6fHasSESptjzBAdkoUyn2t8EQX5uvCmwjP8V-sYIh1GBzrLqacPR2GgUigLBTSUa1iCzvK8G8T4uNlUD5QlhpCAjBx-2M/s1600/troll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJl2teJ453cw3pJ3orwG_kgG7aykS5TPOmG8pB6aBqO6D6P6fHasSESptjzBAdkoUyn2t8EQX5uvCmwjP8V-sYIh1GBzrLqacPR2GgUigLBTSUa1iCzvK8G8T4uNlUD5QlhpCAjBx-2M/s200/troll.jpg" width="200" style="max-height: 80%; max-width: 80%; height: auto; width: auto;"></a><span style="font-size: small;">Um...ick...and WHAT?!  Did she just say that, really?  </span></div>
57. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
58. <span style="font-size: small;">I
59. think we were all more than a little taken aback that she actually said those
60. words in her sales pitch.  "Nasty" and "needs a shower".  Yup.  Well,
61. that'll sell a bundle of this shit, right?  Absolutely.  Give me 100
62. units right now!</span></div>
63. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
64. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
65. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
66. <span style="font-size: small;">I was offered a few backhanded compliments for my trouble as she lathered my arm up with her magical moisturizing lotion: "Your oily skin is a gift from God."   My what is a huh??    Lady, are you kidding me with this? </span></div>
67. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
68. <br>
69. <br></div>
70. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
71. <span style="font-size: small;">Mesmerized
72. by the audacity, I stayed planted on the spot to listen to
73. what else she found hideous about my apparently troll-like skin and
74. greasy, gunk-filled pores, while my children stood by and helplessly
75. watched the drama unfold, their eyes big as saucers.</span><br>
76. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
77. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr>
78. </tbody></table>
79. </div>
80. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
81. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
82. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
83. <span style="font-size: small;">Finally,
84. I couldn't take it anymore.  I had accepted her free presentation with
85. good humor and didn't bloody her lip when she basically told me I was
86. too grotesque to be walking around with normal people.  It was time to
87. end this before one of us got hurt.  </span></div>
88. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
89. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
90. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
91. <span style="font-size: small;">In an effort to bring about the end of my Trial by Esthetics, I asked, "How much?"</span></div>
92. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
93. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
94. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
95. <span style="font-size: small;">I
96. don't know how they train these people for this stuff, but they do have
97. a knack for it. We got the rundown of a professional salesclerk and
98. were told that the skin of a princess could be all mine for the "low
99. price" of $250.  Jeez, for THAT, I could buy actual princess skin and
100. make myself a princess suit!  </span></div>
101. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
102. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
103. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
104. <span style="font-size: small;">She
105. sensed my apprehension and suddenly, as if by magic, the Discount Gnome
106. came along and bippity-boppidy-booped the entire line of skin care down
107. to $125.  I don't know how she did it!  Amazing!</span></div>
108. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
109. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
110. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
111. <span style="font-size: small;">Still
112. too pricey for my blood, I declined to purchase her wares.  Maybe
113. her brother needed a new kidney or maybe it was costing her too much to
114. keep fuzzy Uggs on her little feetsies this winter, because she was not giving up.  She was so intent on making the sale, that
115. she whipped out that magical Discount Gnome again and this time the
116. price poofed from $125 to a mere $39.99 for two of the four miracle
117. working products with the additional promise that I could come back
118. tomorrow and get the other two for $15 off the price. </span></div>
119. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
120. <br></div>
121. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
122. <span style="font-size: small;">Wait, what?  Was
123. that $15 off the original price or off the discounted price? </span></div>
124. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
125. <span style="font-size: small;"><br>
126. </span></div>
127. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
128. <span style="font-size: small;">Ah, forget it.  Doesn't matter anyway. 
129. Somehow I managed to peel myself from her evil clutches and escape with
130. my children, my one soft arm and what was left of my dignity.  </span></div>
131. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
132. <span style="font-size: small;"><br></span></div>
133. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
134. <span style="font-size: small;">Later, while I was at the grocery store, I bought a jar of really good-smelling dead sea salt exfoliant and a bottle of super-hydrating princess skin lotion (probably not made with real princesses).  </span></div>
135. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
136. <br></div>
137. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
138. <br>
139. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
140. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-TLyNNxj10hj9yCyw8QXDFhZFfNCY319vvsajORCyvLwCC2WRMNXjoQ-pJoc3BouPbWvx85C8C8R90kMT1I2hAEC41xxM5eIaZgj6LewwoNwOuUHwe-DJ3MDAG1mJb-6x32UVNoku44/s1600/troll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br></a></div>
141. <br>
142. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
143. </div>
144. <span style="font-size: small;">Price?  Twelve dollah.  </span></div>
145. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
146. <span style="font-size: small;"><br>
147. </span></div>
148. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
149. <span style="font-size: small;">Eff you, Kiosk Sniper.</span><br>
150. <br>
151. <br>
152. (I should have punched her in the throat, right? Tell me the truth:
153. &lt;br&gt;What would you have done if it was you?) &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/l&lt;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/l&lt;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/1546049893754628201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/05/trial-by-esthetics-skin-of-princess-on.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1546049893754628201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1546049893754628201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/05/trial-by-esthetics-skin-of-princess-on.html' title='Ew! Mommy Nasty! - the holiday Kiosk Sniper Story'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJl2teJ453cw3pJ3orwG_kgG7aykS5TPOmG8pB6aBqO6D6P6fHasSESptjzBAdkoUyn2t8EQX5uvCmwjP8V-sYIh1GBzrLqacPR2GgUigLBTSUa1iCzvK8G8T4uNlUD5QlhpCAjBx-2M/s72-c/troll.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-1806450661875175687</id><published>2015-11-08T18:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T19:34:50.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Delusions of Grandeur </title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;_209g _2vxa&quot; data-block=&quot;true&quot; data-offset-key=&quot;alei1-0-0&quot; data-reactid=&quot;.gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$alei1&quot; style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;&quot;&gt;
154. <span data-offset-key="alei1-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$alei1.0:$alei1-0-0"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This morning the microwave stopped working.  Again.  The NEW one.  The one we got only five months ago.  I managed to save my receipt for it this time and I lugged it out to the car, loaded it in the trunk and took it back to the dreaded Walmart from whence it came.  Sadly, because I did not purchase the protection plan when I bought the food cooker, the store couldn't give me any credit toward a new model or even exchange it for the same one. </span></span></div>
155. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="alei1-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$alei1" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
156. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Disappointment.)</span></div>
157. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="ahgrq-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$ahgrq" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
158. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As if that wasn't enough, there was an ugly moment between the clerks as they each advised me as to just what I could do with my broken kitchen appliance.   I accepted the advice First Clerk offered, Second Clerk glared at First Clerk, I waved awkwardly to both and left with my cart full of broken microwave and a heavy heart.  </span></div>
159. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="ch78k-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$ch78k" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
160. <span data-offset-key="e6jvp-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$e6jvp.0:$e6jvp-0-0" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is that the end of my tale?  Of course not.  I still needed a new microwave for </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">F%*$ sake!  </span></div>
161. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="737eu-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$737eu" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
162. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Fast forward through me putting the broken microwave in the car and heading back inside to the housewares aisle and through the part where I put the container of fried chicken in the microwave and sent a picture of it to my husband to show him how spacious our new WORKING microwave would be.)</span></div>
163. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="59fs7-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$59fs7" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
164. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the end, I was able to procure a new (slightly less powerful and smaller) microwave for around $70, this time opting to buy the extended two-year warranty so I wouldn't have to go through this again in another five to six months. </span></div>
165. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="59fs7-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$59fs7" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
166. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Go, me!  Getting shit done!)  </span></div>
167. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="59fs7-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$59fs7" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
168. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I got home with the new microwave, wrestled it out of the box, put it on the cart and plugged it in.   And absolutely nothing happened.  No light, no flashing clock.  NOTHING.  </span></div>
169. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="5nm0s-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$5nm0s" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
170. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And do you know WHY nothing happened?  Because unbeknownst to me, the circuit breaker had flipped.  Which means that was the problem all along and not the shoddy craftsmanship of the people at Panasonic!</span></div>
171. <div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="5nm0s-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$5nm0s" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
172. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So yeah.  I took my microwave for a walk today and now it has a friend.   </span></div>
173. <div>
174. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
175. <div>
176. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
177. <div>
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179. <div>
180. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
181. <div>
182. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
183. <div>
184. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
185. <div>
186. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
187. <div>
188. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
189. <div>
190. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
191. <div>
192. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
193. <div>
194. <span data-offset-key="52k64-0-0" data-reactid=".gu.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$52k64.0:$52k64-0-0"><br /></span></div>
195. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/1806450661875175687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2015/11/delusions-of-grandeur.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1806450661875175687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1806450661875175687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2015/11/delusions-of-grandeur.html' title='Delusions of Grandeur '/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-1900989239341555417</id><published>2013-09-15T19:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T19:20:44.002-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="allie brosh"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clowns scare me"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corn"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pink"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="psychic"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random ninja"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="talent"/><title type='text'>I didn&#39;t see that one coming.  Fugly Sweaters and Power Tools.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I have come to the realization that I am not psychic. &amp;nbsp;I know it&#39;s true for a lot of people, but I never expected it to happen to me. &amp;nbsp; My psychic abilities begin and end with knowing just how full the kitchen garbage can get before it spills over into the cabinet under the sink. &amp;nbsp;And even then it&#39;s hit and miss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
196. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
197. <span style="font-size: large;">But there was a time when I thought I could predict the future.  At least where the holidays were concerned.  I was clearly in denial.</span></span><br />
198. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
199. <span style="font-size: large;">Our first Christmas together as a married couple, I got John a cordless power drill. I was completely stoked and couldn't wait to give it to him.  You see, we are perfectly matched and because <u>I</u> LOVE power tools, my husband would undoubtedly love power tools too.  I knew this was the perfect Husband-y Man-type Thing for my beloved life partner. </span></span><br />
200. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
201. <span style="font-size: large;">I could see it all in my mind: he would open this fantastically shiny and useful tool and immediately declare that not only was this the best gift he had ever received, but that I was an even better spouse than he suspected I would be when he signed up for this whole crazy marriage thing.  I would smile sweetly, knowing full well the extent of my awesome as he bragged about this sweet drill that didn't even require an extension cord to use <u>and</u> me, his wonderful wife. </span></span><br />
202. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
203. </span><br />
204. <blockquote class="tr_bq">
205. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Did you see what Erika got me for Christmas?!   Isn't it great?!  I'll be able to get shit DONE now!  How did she know?!  Man, she is the BEST. WIFE. EVAR!!"</span></span></blockquote>
206. <br />
207. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
208. <span style="font-size: large;">That's not quite what happened.  Because I'm not psychic.</span></span><br />
209. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
210. <span style="font-size: large;">He opened it, looked at me and said, "Is this my real gift?" </span></span><br />
211. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
212. <span style="font-size: large;">Damn those delusions of grandeur!</span></span><br />
213. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
214. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
215. <span style="font-size: large;">Of course he didn't do any better.  One year I asked for a pink sweater.</span></span><br />
216. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
217. <span style="font-size: large;">Anyone who was psychic would have known that what I meant was that I would like one of those super-soft baby pink angora-type cardigans with the faux pearl buttons that were on all the mannequins at Braun's.  (Good God, whatever happened to Braun's?)</span></span><br />
218. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
219. <span style="font-size: large;">What I got on Christmas Day was NOT that.  At all.  Like, AT ALL.  It was indeed pink, as I requested, and made of yarn.  However.  It was Pepto Bismol pink with stripes of silver tinsel throughout.  And holy shoulder pads, Batman!  I could have played defense for the Steelers in that thing! </span></span><br />
220. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
221. <span style="font-size: large;">I suspected that somewhere a clown was naked and cold. </span></span><br />
222. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
223. <span style="font-size: large;">Now, I am not a completely ungracious receiver.  Please stop picturing Nellie Oleson.  I pretended to love the pastel holiday nightmare and actually wore it a few times. But it was hard to mask my disappointment that it was not what I thought I had so clearly asked for when I said "pink sweater". </span></span><br />
224. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
225. <span style="font-size: large;">I still futilely clung to the idea that one of us would be blessed with the gift of second sight, or at least a knack for insightful guessing.  I remember telling him that I didn't care what he got me as long as it was from his heart.  I said that he could get me a yo-yo and if it meant something it would always be special to me. Mistake.</span></span><br />
226. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
227. <span style="font-size: large;">That year I got a Duncan Imperial. </span></span><br />
228. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
229. <span style="font-size: large;">The lesson here, my friends, is that you must be specific.  Non-psychic spouses do not thrive on uncertainty.   You can't leave anything to guesswork.  Pictures help greatly.  Cut out photos and tape them to the toilet seat, and make sure you mark the exact color, size and number that you would like.   </span></span><br />
230. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
231. <span style="font-size: large;">Yes, it takes the surprise out of your holiday, but sometimes that's a good thing.   If you vaguely hint about something specific, and you and your gift-giving honey pie are as psychic as my husband and I are, you're probably gonna end up with a clown sweater. </span></span><br />
232. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
233. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/1900989239341555417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/09/i-didnt-see-that-one-coming.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1900989239341555417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/1900989239341555417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/09/i-didnt-see-that-one-coming.html' title='I didn&#39;t see that one coming.  Fugly Sweaters and Power Tools.'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-6140780555958390914</id><published>2013-09-10T10:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T19:55:35.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you seen the children?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id=&quot;docs-internal-guid-68e795ca-0825-1bb9-d201-b3f0c254cfa9&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
234. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
235. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Why is it that whenever I pass a sign that very specifically states "Happy children at play" I never see any happy children about?   </span></span></div>
236. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
237. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
238. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
239. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Where are they?  I mean, the abundance of happy children was obviously important enough at one time to warrant a sign, so what happened to them since its posting?  Are the happy children missing?  Did they grow up and move away?   Am I the only one concerned about these children?</span></span></div>
240. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
241. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
242. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
243. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I drive past one of those signs at least once a week when I take my daughter to her friend's house and I've never seen even one child anywhere near that sign. </span></span></div>
244. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
245. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
246. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
247. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wait, wait.  I take that back.  There was one time we passed a boy, about nine years old,  running through the grass with a large pair of scissors in his hand.  HE looked happy.  Deliriously happy, in fact.   Until he saw us watching him, whereupon he stopped dead in his tracks and glared menacingly at us until we were out of sight.  </span></span><br />
248. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
249. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That was rather frightening.</span></span></div>
250. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
251. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">  </span></span></div>
252. <div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
253. <div style="line-height: 1.15;">
254. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">You know, thinking about it, maybe that particular sign should be changed to "Unbalanced children with sharp objects".  It</span></span><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;"> would be more accurate at least.  </span></span></div>
255. <div style="line-height: 1.15;">
256. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
257. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 34px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And still I'm left to wonder what became of the other children.  The happy ones at play.  </span></span><br />
258. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 34px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
259. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 34px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have you seen the children??  </span></span><br />
260. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 34px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
261. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 34px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
262. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/6140780555958390914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/09/have-you-seen-children.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6140780555958390914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6140780555958390914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/09/have-you-seen-children.html' title='Have you seen the children?'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-8600088123912041422</id><published>2013-07-21T10:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T19:34:25.139-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ToeJam Sam and the Maxi-Pad Aisle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;&quot;&gt;Hi,
263. peoples.  I've got stuff to do today, so please enjoy this piece I wrote
264. a few years ago while I try to find the top of my dining room table
265. again.</span></span><br />
266. <br />
267. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><b>ToeJam Sam and the Maxi-Pad Aisle: </b></span></span><br />
268. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">I
269.  didn't know I wanted three children, but four and some-odd years ago,
270. the urge to have just One More Baby gnawed at me until I finally  
271. shrugged, rolled over and ordered hubby to "just do it".    
272. Bingo-Bango-Bongo, I got pregnant (yep, pretty much just like that).  I
273. peed on a stick to be certain of it...on Mother's Day, no less.   
274. Yepperooni.  Pregnant.  </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
275. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Many moons passed.  Many <i>many</i>
276.  moons passed.  So many moons passed that I was beginning to think that
277. I  was living on the wrong planet.  This child was setting up shop in  
278. there for the long haul. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
279. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">I
280.  suspected that bambino knew it was wintertime and had hoped  
281. to hibernate until the weather warmed up a little.  I had visions of  
282. being pregnant forever with that kiddo all warm and toasty in the Womb  
283. For Went...*ahem*...RENT.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">   </span></span><br />
284. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">So
285.  one day in January my doctor gave me a pitocin cocktail with an  
286. epidural chaser and a few hours later a very teeny person practically  
287. shot out of my vagina (that's "bajingo" for a few of you).  We named her
288.  Sam.  Our family was complete with three adorable little girls and the
289.  sky was full of lollipops and rainbows.  It was a Lisa Frank world.   </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
290. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Let's skip a few pages of our story and bring us to the here and now.  We'll title this segment "Never a Dull Moment".</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
291. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Yeah,
292.  that says it nicely.  Sam is anything but dull.  She's the child who  
293. wants to name animals after breakfast cereals and body parts.   
294. ("Cornflakes" was one and I won't say the other one, but it rhymes with
295. Schmagina.)  </span></span><br />
296. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">This
297.  is the same child that cannot watch a toy commercial without stating
298. "I  wanna buy that for my birthday" even when she's alone in the room.  
299.  This is the child that loves animals so much, <a href="http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-truth-shall-set-you-free-even.html" target="_blank"><u><span style="color: red;">she pees on their heads</span></u></a>.   (I can just hear her some day, "Jeez Mom. I did that ONE TIME!!")</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"> </span></span><br />
300. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">The
301.  entertainment Sam provides us with is absolutely invaluable.   A trip
302. to the grocery store is never boring.  Just this week, Sam was with me
303. at Wal*Mart.   The surrounding area bustled with my fellow shoppers in
304. search of their favorite shampoos, soaps and various scented shaving  
305. creams, when Sam's eagle eye spotted the familiar Always box.  Pointing,
306.  and using her I'm Outside And Just Too Doggone Excited About It voice,
307.  she exclaimed,</span></span><br />
308. <span style="font-size: 24px;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">"MOMMY<b>!  YOU BUY </b><b><i>THOSE</i></b>!  YOU PUT THEM IN YOUR <b>UNDERPANTS</b> WHEN YOU GO TO THE <b>BATHROOM</b>!!" </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span><br />
309. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Those
310.  are the moments that take my breath away.  Sometimes they take the  
311. breath away from other ladies shopping within earshot, whose shoulders  
312. hitch up and down as they try not to laugh loudly at what my daughter  
313. just said.</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">  Bless their hearts.</span></span><br />
314. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Pardon me.  She just ran past the doorway...naked...with a can of Spaghettio's.   </span></span><br />
315. <br />
316. <br />
317. &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;&quot;&gt;Yeah, dull&amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t get much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/8600088123912041422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/07/toejam-sam-and-maxi-pad-aisle.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/8600088123912041422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/8600088123912041422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/07/toejam-sam-and-maxi-pad-aisle.html' title='ToeJam Sam and the Maxi-Pad Aisle'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-6293926727747421596</id><published>2013-03-04T10:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T19:52:28.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>White Sugar Bunnies of Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;As a latecomer to the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.hangingoffthewire.com/2013/03/day-4-march-blog-challenge.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;31 Day Blog Challenge&lt;/a&gt;, I guess I&#39;ll just pick up where the other, more timely bloggers are at this moment: March 4th.&amp;nbsp; Best Childhood Memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
318. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
319. <span style="font-size: large;">I have so many to choose from, it's embarrassing.  I suppose though, that my best childhood memory is actually more of a conglomeration of memories all lumped together into one giant ball of "OMG, I remember this song/feeling/candy/tv show/friendship pin/gold shoe/pair of earrings"...etc.</span><br />
320. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
321. <span style="font-size: large;">The memories that continue to make me smile come from that far away land of "The 80's".</span><br />
322. <br />
323. <span style="font-size: large;">I could go on and on with memory after memory, but since boring you to tears is not the assignment for today's blog post, I'll randomly select one from the file. </span><br />
324. <br />
325. <br />
326. <span style="font-size: large;">White Sugar Bunny Ornament.</span><br />
327. <br />
328. <br />
329. <span style="font-size: large;"> There once was a bunny made of sugar that hung from our Christmas tree every year.  He didn't look Christmas-y at all, just a 3/4" thick cookie cut-out rabbit silhouette with sculpted eyes and a nose highlighted with pink paint, but the sugar looked like glitter under the multi-colored lights on our tree and I adored that ornament. I remember sitting under the tree looking up at it, mesmerized at the way it caught the light.  It was definitely my favorite.</span><br />
330. <br />
331. <br />
332. <span style="font-size: large;">And that brings the "favorite childhood memory" bit to a close. </span><br />
333. <br />
334. <span style="font-size: large;">Since tomorrow doesn't appear to be "sad shit that happened" day, I'll tell you now that Bunny met his demise the year our beloved cat Mittens peed in a box of ornaments.  If you haven't seen what happens to a sugar ornament when it meets cat pee, you're better off.   Poor little bunny.  What a way to go.</span><br />
335. <br />
336. <br />
337. <br />
338. <span style="font-size: large;">What's <span style="font-size: large;">your favorite childhood memory?  </span></span><br />
339. <br />
340. <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span> </span><br />
341. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
342. <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
343. <br />
344. &lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/6293926727747421596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/03/white-sugar-bunnies-of-christmas.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6293926727747421596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6293926727747421596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2013/03/white-sugar-bunnies-of-christmas.html' title='White Sugar Bunnies of Christmas'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-7466165094151773217</id><published>2012-06-04T12:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:03:36.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping it clean.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
345. </div>
346. John's Uncle Jim asked the girls if they'd like to walk with him in a small town parade wearing his campaign t-shirts.  "Us?!  In a ...PARADE?!"  Of course they were more than happy to oblige.  They've already been helping out by putting together more than 600 yard signs for him.  Good kids, they are.  They probably would have done it even if he hadn't paid them.  But this...was a PARADE.  That's like Super-neatoriffic!  Hells, yes they'll do it!<br />
347. <br />
348. <br />
349. Their job was simple:  Look adorable.<br />
350. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
351. <br /></div>
352. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
353. As their mother, my job was also simple:  Keep them clean until Jim got here to take them off my hands.  </div>
354. <br />
355. Keep them clean until Jim gets here...  Keep them clean until Jim gets here...<br />
356. *thinking*<br />
357. How can we kill ten minutes and still keep them clean?<br />
358. Hey, I know!  Let's take a few dozen pictures of them in the yard.  Where the dirt lives!  That's a recipe for success!<br />
359. <br />
360. Line up, girls!  <br />
361. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
362. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2c_FikL9KyagKejUZ9UGoFM8hsg4UHfH6-KPv9rsk-ATSeTX4fl0kOPsMgS4OFWjcrSCWbLKFA6tZZYj-r7jVdJiSm_bogqAHuBECOuuFQTk1Vt8kWKI3JPNnvJuMl2fj-rV55FwddNI/s1600/M1220027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2c_FikL9KyagKejUZ9UGoFM8hsg4UHfH6-KPv9rsk-ATSeTX4fl0kOPsMgS4OFWjcrSCWbLKFA6tZZYj-r7jVdJiSm_bogqAHuBECOuuFQTk1Vt8kWKI3JPNnvJuMl2fj-rV55FwddNI/s400/M1220027.JPG" width="305" /></a></div>
363. <br />
364. <br />
365. <div style="text-align: center;">
366. What's got six thumbs and just made it into an embarrassingly picture-heavy blog entry?</div>
367. <br />
368. <div style="text-align: center;">
369. These guys.</div>
370. <br />
371. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
372. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUfWIsBlJECQWbrhb7Ys5j8eoRudboAH5xqbUGk0POhjc6XLu-1wAj3J_F2FRxNPAKpbQGssxCQY6000NIf3Hu6pMZWHc3YD_yxRB0VtXOG3tna03tR-crXJpAlnHMvTno20Kpq2MoRo/s1600/M1220028.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUfWIsBlJECQWbrhb7Ys5j8eoRudboAH5xqbUGk0POhjc6XLu-1wAj3J_F2FRxNPAKpbQGssxCQY6000NIf3Hu6pMZWHc3YD_yxRB0VtXOG3tna03tR-crXJpAlnHMvTno20Kpq2MoRo/s400/M1220028.JPG" width="390" /></a></div>
373. <br />
374. <br />
375. <br />
376. Me: What other picture should we take?   Want to make a pyramid?<br />
377. Lily:  Mom, that will get our shirts dirty.<br />
378. Me:  Ooh, good call, Lily.  You're right.  Let's do something else.<br />
379. <br />
380. Madison:  No, wait.  Let's do it this way.  Here, Sam.  Give me your foot...Lily, take the other one!  Now stand up, Sam...<br />
381. <br />
382. <br />
383. <br />
384. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
385. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8q5jRK81lX_cnoOpN1s7iGyweRWtApZKYpgL915ed57YcffNuK9Y4_fDzqXe87i7Q0I_2R3dSgcc0d8TcRMh6LT-uQ7eyByzITntk9gk3num9WjJ3kEflDvO3h-Hg0NLrHGVdt5O9ko/s320/M1220030.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="230" /></td></tr>
386. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I can't stand up, you're gonna drop me!"</td></tr>
387. </tbody></table>
388. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
389. <br /></div>
390. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
391. <br /></div>
392. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
393. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ExjhlHGvhhW4fhro6A2Swlqj1I3lFaMfqWaHuTCxuFKxclecWmv7MGAR2MQPQC6KW6Kl7QDlCNTYVKSV_tZlMHuJC5TOcUx7SKsnFRvBn8BDbHRbc6Ma6OBHlkASAY_O7HFUN7mjlMw/s1600/M1220031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ExjhlHGvhhW4fhro6A2Swlqj1I3lFaMfqWaHuTCxuFKxclecWmv7MGAR2MQPQC6KW6Kl7QDlCNTYVKSV_tZlMHuJC5TOcUx7SKsnFRvBn8BDbHRbc6Ma6OBHlkASAY_O7HFUN7mjlMw/s320/M1220031.JPG" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
394. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I changed my mind. I wanna get down." </td></tr>
395. </tbody></table>
396. <br />
397. <br />
398. <div style="text-align: left;">
399. And then there was some discussion about Madison's belly button...</div>
400. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
401. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbqww3KZknrXRDC7nTJ8LynAnOI0qCtR67LmhG_Ky_Mgexh3hOH65mw1y-kyhfXHCuemcMFZEWb9ePYZqZfXYCdXX-IgFySD7LGjkGIF18VYScRaRndVo15ezkym5u0Wg7RQ62V5t8Gg/s1600/M1220038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbqww3KZknrXRDC7nTJ8LynAnOI0qCtR67LmhG_Ky_Mgexh3hOH65mw1y-kyhfXHCuemcMFZEWb9ePYZqZfXYCdXX-IgFySD7LGjkGIF18VYScRaRndVo15ezkym5u0Wg7RQ62V5t8Gg/s320/M1220038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
402. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's an innie AND an outie, see?"</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
403. </tbody></table>
404. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
405. <br /></div>
406. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
407. <br /></div>
408. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
409. So the other two had to check theirs out as well. </div>
410. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
411. <br /></div>
412. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
413. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wj50UxAeTQFTCRXoPHul-053ISgyOUav7zb1IaFfq35MsbesQtpbTlrjBKQHJRuoIExwOOgUneVrHzj2fKr7eHDfeZOEQcSP2YhHidqCtkghwC7SGXDcH_Am1DzfcKjkltUSD-_SsmU/s1600/M1220039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wj50UxAeTQFTCRXoPHul-053ISgyOUav7zb1IaFfq35MsbesQtpbTlrjBKQHJRuoIExwOOgUneVrHzj2fKr7eHDfeZOEQcSP2YhHidqCtkghwC7SGXDcH_Am1DzfcKjkltUSD-_SsmU/s320/M1220039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
414. <br />
415. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
416. <br /></div>
417. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
418. <br /></div>
419. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
420. But Lily was distracted...</div>
421. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
422. <br /></div>
423. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
424. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lT6R3LsIz87ehRKKy9GrV8I9yVM74aNjfgRtA3HD-1DQdCEy0yhidQw18i9rvCwslY-Z5oS2iAzC4bc7fzQ_y-qsKXVgBB2P_5b3wmwn0sV6DOwrl1p7RnswjR9AMo0ue093ChhrQdg/s1600/M1220040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lT6R3LsIz87ehRKKy9GrV8I9yVM74aNjfgRtA3HD-1DQdCEy0yhidQw18i9rvCwslY-Z5oS2iAzC4bc7fzQ_y-qsKXVgBB2P_5b3wmwn0sV6DOwrl1p7RnswjR9AMo0ue093ChhrQdg/s320/M1220040.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
425. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
426. <br /></div>
427. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
428. Uh...Lily?   Did you find something shiny? </div>
429. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
430.   </div>
431. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
432. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3bhk43lrC0V90tfFZnvYrsxN1DicSyCrJ3QOFE35MfQvV5XXMaQvCncaTS59jORuSmnlk17Wa1tcgLRKQmBxcQNzf7Lt78cCUg486dgBQuSf8u6i7-IxbuWTIKRwC8FZig9y8IjThQQ/s1600/M1220042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3bhk43lrC0V90tfFZnvYrsxN1DicSyCrJ3QOFE35MfQvV5XXMaQvCncaTS59jORuSmnlk17Wa1tcgLRKQmBxcQNzf7Lt78cCUg486dgBQuSf8u6i7-IxbuWTIKRwC8FZig9y8IjThQQ/s320/M1220042.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
433. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
434. <br /></div>
435. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
436. She's busy.  We'll come back later.</div>
437. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
438. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA6xE0dz_6di7qRvwNLpGRwaRVMpKqcRp4cCs4OHOKRL1ff3PFzxxtEziQj31LaBuNUcIClycTnJY4PvB3mVCvfsmFUz4Gt9v1cFWb6AbcBbR-B7FEP9Vn4zNUFXCVeVfRhWnA5uVg50/s1600/M1220041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA6xE0dz_6di7qRvwNLpGRwaRVMpKqcRp4cCs4OHOKRL1ff3PFzxxtEziQj31LaBuNUcIClycTnJY4PvB3mVCvfsmFUz4Gt9v1cFWb6AbcBbR-B7FEP9Vn4zNUFXCVeVfRhWnA5uVg50/s320/M1220041.JPG" width="179" /></a></div>
439. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
440. </div>
441. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
442. </div>
443. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
444. </div>
445. <br />
446. <br />
447. What were we doing?  Oh, right.  Keeping the kids clean until Jim gets here.<br />
448. <br />
449. Wait a second.  Where did Madison go?   She's in the Strawberry patch!  Why is she there?  Because nothing makes you hungry for red berries quite like a nice white shirt.   IT'S BERRY-PICKIN' TIME! WOOT!<br />
450. <br />
451. After addressing Jesus by his full name, I asked if it was too much trouble for the girls to at least TRY to avoid All Things That Could Stain for the remaining eight and a half minutes until Jim arrived.<br />
452. <br />
453. "I'm being careful, Mom.  Sheesh."<br />
454. "I hope so, Maddie."<br />
455. "Don't call me Maddie."<br />
456. "Shut up and eat your berries, Kitten."<br />
457. "Ha." *eyeroll*<br />
458. <br />
459. <br />
460. <br />
461. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
462. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyahUgnnaflauUMo_PDvVfUC1STGPMer-iOKWSCsZg0d6fpxImU-rn4Ho5RO2nqLc04RD0VnzIbSZuhsPbHO6yJca51mY16PR5gD9UyUG4GydCIzq4KOvjAbiGFPcHmzJPM3MD12a8glw/s1600/M1220044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyahUgnnaflauUMo_PDvVfUC1STGPMer-iOKWSCsZg0d6fpxImU-rn4Ho5RO2nqLc04RD0VnzIbSZuhsPbHO6yJca51mY16PR5gD9UyUG4GydCIzq4KOvjAbiGFPcHmzJPM3MD12a8glw/s320/M1220044.JPG" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGi77L4WnSMkROtt7GP4zTeI_IBrqnr5m4QYoxgos9g26OPhaAA39dSDD9U8F1Gx82VhdFA75CDvyBnCI63CWOjHS4M6iTr3qRb0zTc7niK3yCXoKo4Y8pXZEJoZSlsxbrIJxym51q3pM/s1600/M1220045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGi77L4WnSMkROtt7GP4zTeI_IBrqnr5m4QYoxgos9g26OPhaAA39dSDD9U8F1Gx82VhdFA75CDvyBnCI63CWOjHS4M6iTr3qRb0zTc7niK3yCXoKo4Y8pXZEJoZSlsxbrIJxym51q3pM/s320/M1220045.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
463. <br />
464. "Madison!  Don't wipe strawberry juice on your pants!"<br />
465. "What!  It's not on my shirt!"<br />
466. "True enough.  Carry on."<br />
467. <br />
468. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
469. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAeALWawhXltjYcgy3wRI3Ij602L6RFnBfT_XTVh6rRnJu2oWg9lnHYYCrPkMunZC1VYN51CvM6BcKghWgQpP8N-r6PJxXK_ZV-oJknSE9FlQiKzBDsl4X_4i2a6E6eTXBFvzwiroT40/s1600/M1220057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAeALWawhXltjYcgy3wRI3Ij602L6RFnBfT_XTVh6rRnJu2oWg9lnHYYCrPkMunZC1VYN51CvM6BcKghWgQpP8N-r6PJxXK_ZV-oJknSE9FlQiKzBDsl4X_4i2a6E6eTXBFvzwiroT40/s320/M1220057.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
470. <br />
471. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhrFy9Gn7-CXhS8Hu4Pv_xUTjZDYxe1lABWmPFs4TY9SeZI2T3wfBxRJ6sQc3wJOylji6DXeqPx8SAQwlHnB8BEYrN5Yrl20LI4_zty8R3NpLfH-Z-AWfdeK8S8rTDD-5Vsfmbr1wQGc/s1600/M1220047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>They picked this one for me.  Um...thanks?<br />
472. <br />
473. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
474. </div>
475. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
476. </div>
477. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
478. </div>
479. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
480. </div>
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482. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6Z8jgpRlKL7cSGLQs4VWhZCKp5I7dhWYIGgmZuWjsgJqSlhFmmhlWXfHm8dncFxV9DWY-1m50KSaqY9p93Wn-IMzkrhhhs-NX-oBmIvOrlMXHe-64kVOp3MVpvkak8JDzPvsD-egYys/s1600/M1220052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6Z8jgpRlKL7cSGLQs4VWhZCKp5I7dhWYIGgmZuWjsgJqSlhFmmhlWXfHm8dncFxV9DWY-1m50KSaqY9p93Wn-IMzkrhhhs-NX-oBmIvOrlMXHe-64kVOp3MVpvkak8JDzPvsD-egYys/s320/M1220052.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
483. <div style="text-align: center;">
484. <br /></div>
485. <div style="text-align: left;">
486. <br /></div>
487. <div style="text-align: left;">
488. <br /></div>
489. <div style="text-align: center;">
490. <br /></div>
491. <div style="text-align: center;">
492. "Like my earrings?  They're real."</div>
493. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
494. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84CRTH3AsbZMn4uOsSWSrI1E3Mzm6PIJ9Sr5VVWEiDc3a3ugQf9Px1zOfJ2R9oogpBRTrBMFMKYA7juvb2dN5lm5SgvfJH1yimHlyHs9w2wrheAsJalfhwSwsu5VPk7utGF2BB95brbM/s1600/M1220058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84CRTH3AsbZMn4uOsSWSrI1E3Mzm6PIJ9Sr5VVWEiDc3a3ugQf9Px1zOfJ2R9oogpBRTrBMFMKYA7juvb2dN5lm5SgvfJH1yimHlyHs9w2wrheAsJalfhwSwsu5VPk7utGF2BB95brbM/s320/M1220058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
495. <br />
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497. </div>
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499. </div>
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501. </div>
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503. </div>
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505. </div>
506. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
507. </div>
508. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
509. </div>
510. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
511. I'm gonna eat you!!</div>
512. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
513.  <img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0irf3atn4VPEwyBc2bG8boPOK-m276-kvikg6oqMkmBrHPATVFN6hAGQfM-X2mDke_1MTw4wL2tqe6OFug6OBN0Dw89eRPi28-n50Ee3Rbv3Y63v8TAs7fsppY3WuxesR86Bs1sfMVFA/s320/M1220061.JPG" width="320" /> </div>
514. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
515. <br /></div>
516. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
517. <br /></div>
518. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
519. Get in mah belleh!</div>
520. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
521. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8T3qcHXml8D1NrtJZJTHS4w0PoqIre_wTS0bDw-K7S3HQCGg5_cCpFj-mymk5Wpp3s__KBDl1GXoLH01kRasAEXiloAoRrwrk01ZFzIACY3hxWOnEhG7Dhm7eHeKLXGEMUjWEDa2NkHw/s1600/M1220060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8T3qcHXml8D1NrtJZJTHS4w0PoqIre_wTS0bDw-K7S3HQCGg5_cCpFj-mymk5Wpp3s__KBDl1GXoLH01kRasAEXiloAoRrwrk01ZFzIACY3hxWOnEhG7Dhm7eHeKLXGEMUjWEDa2NkHw/s320/M1220060.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
522. <br />
523. <br />
524. <br />
525. <br />
526. <br />
527. <br />
528. <br />
529. <div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
530. Then Madison got a hold of the camera...</div>
531. <br />
532. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
533. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC18_z7Kuj-vG50xT40C1I7QXzBFaTpyzc00yPsIeQZsO4ba1TAKkKySHYnU5RWBfOYna5AiY0yqVvUgDJqd9itXdDidAsyYPBEywiW2DpCiqVXUr3m2bj3StGTLPk2e1TNJ12xyKDkCo/s1600/M1220064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC18_z7Kuj-vG50xT40C1I7QXzBFaTpyzc00yPsIeQZsO4ba1TAKkKySHYnU5RWBfOYna5AiY0yqVvUgDJqd9itXdDidAsyYPBEywiW2DpCiqVXUr3m2bj3StGTLPk2e1TNJ12xyKDkCo/s320/M1220064.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
534. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
535. </div>
536. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
537. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTsFXhwomG-3ZsepBfrUDnppZG81F7IsA7bDkq5rtXOWDpjvJOFIL4Dc7TcmzMCkKj4EXkkQZaf0MAUltQB61j2Q_9enEDSm_5ptIHasYHwThseonsdOfWUDdRrkfgMb8Q0PUu6-isZU/s1600/M1220065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTsFXhwomG-3ZsepBfrUDnppZG81F7IsA7bDkq5rtXOWDpjvJOFIL4Dc7TcmzMCkKj4EXkkQZaf0MAUltQB61j2Q_9enEDSm_5ptIHasYHwThseonsdOfWUDdRrkfgMb8Q0PUu6-isZU/s320/M1220065.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
538. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
539. <br /></div>
540. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
541. <br /></div>
542. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
543. ...while Sam did a little pool maintenance.  The Starlings thought our pool was a giant birdbath last week.  Oh, and did you know that mulberries are in season?  Even if you suck at math, you'll know that equals, "Sam! Watch out for the bird poop!"</div>
544. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
545. <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LpskrpNwVgbzbPr-H840n1dITl714Om2bodZ0pRLmf9Ui9wuTFDppX8XVSuIgRuZ3w6lP8a7_2qcMXbAvNFCf3PvqiLev582nJAT7AC4rgWgt7vrwMEtRCgAptHcfJuDcXtLBmqCDRg/s320/M1220046.JPG" width="180" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvEomp__NlK1zeyKpMKJHlt7cAPdwXXwS6B8i3132EtbaW_N-atyrb1IwCHsu_tZPetLy7DJGIpx-BdCbINO0_NqC4B9IDqKwummz0BWN8P_sn0ZLHgZgT-zBUxYJqAL6CaGktBAgJDI/s1600/M1220043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvEomp__NlK1zeyKpMKJHlt7cAPdwXXwS6B8i3132EtbaW_N-atyrb1IwCHsu_tZPetLy7DJGIpx-BdCbINO0_NqC4B9IDqKwummz0BWN8P_sn0ZLHgZgT-zBUxYJqAL6CaGktBAgJDI/s320/M1220043.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
546. <br />
547. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
548. <br /></div>
549. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
550. Against all odds, they managed to stay clean until Uncle Jim arrived.  I have no idea how.  Really.  None.</div>
551. <br />
552. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
553. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigx0bSuovY2IYhAtKnPxAjw-hVf6qMD7kIYfE6X3ikukgXlWys7X-104O9z97OIT6g9lMYVuUPDosP3HfOyruVDnX4ZWMURdAR7RlaGlOfCJDy9K3lHY9uL4XlQm8BNURHt1kQi6npTJE/s1600/M1220068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigx0bSuovY2IYhAtKnPxAjw-hVf6qMD7kIYfE6X3ikukgXlWys7X-104O9z97OIT6g9lMYVuUPDosP3HfOyruVDnX4ZWMURdAR7RlaGlOfCJDy9K3lHY9uL4XlQm8BNURHt1kQi6npTJE/s640/M1220068.JPG" width="440" /> </a></div>
554. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
555. <br /></div>
556. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
557. <br /></div>
558. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
559.  It's up to you now, Jim.  Good luck, man.</div>
560. <br />
561. <br />
562. <br />
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564. </div>
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566. </div>
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568. <br /></div>
569. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
570. How would you have made sure they stayed clean in those sparkling white shirts?  Tell me.  I can take it.</div>
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578. <br /></div>
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580. <br /></div>
581. &lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/7466165094151773217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/06/keeping-it-clean.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/7466165094151773217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/7466165094151773217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/06/keeping-it-clean.html' title='Keeping it clean.'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2c_FikL9KyagKejUZ9UGoFM8hsg4UHfH6-KPv9rsk-ATSeTX4fl0kOPsMgS4OFWjcrSCWbLKFA6tZZYj-r7jVdJiSm_bogqAHuBECOuuFQTk1Vt8kWKI3JPNnvJuMl2fj-rV55FwddNI/s72-c/M1220027.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-8370523272818161692</id><published>2012-04-17T07:06:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:54:41.322-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bajingo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corn"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="erikarobin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="finding jesus"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inappropriate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moms"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vagina"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vulva"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writer of wrongs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="zombies"/><title type='text'>Are you SURE that&#39;s a vagina?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
582. <span style="font-size: small;">For those of you who are teaching your kids the generic "girls have a vagina" lesson, you ARE teaching them that the  proper term for the entire outer package is vulva and not vagina, right? I mean, you know that the words are not synonymous, don't you?  </span></div>
583. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
584. <span style="font-size: small;">Just in case, let me give you a quick anatomy lesson. </span></div>
585. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
586. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
587. </span></div>
588. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
589. <span style="font-size: small;">Vagina  and vulva are <u>not</u> the same thing.  They are not interchangeable physiological terms.</span></div>
590. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
591. <span style="color: black; font-size: small;">The vagina is part of the inner workings, not the outer.</span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
592. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
593. </span><br />
594. <span style="font-size: small;">I asked this question on a social networking forum and got a variety of responses including this one: </span><br />
595. <div style="text-align: left;">
596. <span style="font-size: small;">"My child is too young to know the technical terms for her body parts." (Ignore the fact that the pet name we have created for her genitalia is four syllables long and she's already made up a song about it.)</span></div>
597. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
598. </span><br />
599. <span style="font-size: small;">And this one:</span><br />
600. <span style="font-size: small;">"Vulva is just a gross word."   (Vulva is not a gross word.  "MOIST" is a gross word.) <b><i> </i></b></span><br />
601. <span style="font-size: small;"><b><i> </i></b> </span><br />
602. <span style="font-size: small;">And also this one: "It all means the same thing."</span></div>
603. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
604. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
605. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
606. <span style="font-size: small;">(To say that it's all the same thing is as inaccurate as saying that your hand is a finger and your finger is a hand and that's just plain silly.)</span></div>
607. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
608. </span><br />
609. <div style="text-align: left;">
610. <span style="color: black; font-size: small;">You know what this post needs?  Venn Diagrams!  (I know they look like crazy cartoon breasts.  Shut up.) </span><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><br />
611. </i></b></span></div>
612. <span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ClKCYtHo4sh9o_W7nV1iHensffs16P7iF-akmhEC0_QefcTJUgK93eV8e3siQX7YiahHBh2XXY03D1CfUmy-6ewlIamGcnZBX7cov4RNqESP8ZiNwdknY1rYvoBoekPlU2KnjICAgIA/s1600/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ClKCYtHo4sh9o_W7nV1iHensffs16P7iF-akmhEC0_QefcTJUgK93eV8e3siQX7YiahHBh2XXY03D1CfUmy-6ewlIamGcnZBX7cov4RNqESP8ZiNwdknY1rYvoBoekPlU2KnjICAgIA/s640/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
613. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's true that all rectangles are parallelograms, but not all parallelograms are rectangles.  </span><br />
614. <span style="font-size: small;">Likewise, all vulvae contain vaginas (or rather, the vaginal opening), but all vaginas don't contain the vulvae.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
615. </span></td></tr>
616. </tbody></table>
617. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
618. </span><br />
619. <div style="text-align: center;">
620. <span style="font-size: small;">Yes, there is a difference and the difference is huge.  Vulva = clitoris, labia (2 sets) urethra, vaginal opening.  Vagina = the canal that leads from the vaginal opening to the cervix.   </span></div>
621. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
622. </span><br />
623. <span style="font-size: small;">Do you need another diagram?  Okay, here:  </span><br />
624. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
625. <span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8YV9GCXAZM2mHO8HFmk9uQclB0_mNAm3TkO_6hZDL_e3Dj3VynqZAu2HO0jTLiAgiXv0ZVN8wsWpr49yKh55cSJEnbT6YDjHXdyl6VPFrLl7Aximl9_hyphenhyphenjADsQBhyphenhyphen0lJt0P_AbHlxmE/s1600/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8YV9GCXAZM2mHO8HFmk9uQclB0_mNAm3TkO_6hZDL_e3Dj3VynqZAu2HO0jTLiAgiXv0ZVN8wsWpr49yKh55cSJEnbT6YDjHXdyl6VPFrLl7Aximl9_hyphenhyphenjADsQBhyphenhyphen0lJt0P_AbHlxmE/s640/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" width="640" /></a></span></div>
626. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
627. <span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZ-jdJ-Nvlw59A2k29xmHgmqpjLUx1Jl-ggRPJ5yeDU2Qzr963T0MExcbH1s7V2LQPrET8_UyBln3H5xYRSYQ90WfDCDuuLJHZwImwaTWFd_V3-qOKyOpst871gBNBSZz6YBIsqR8EBU/s1600/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
628. </a></span></div>
629. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
630. </span><br />
631. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
632. </span><br />
633. <span style="font-size: small;">So if you choose to shave your vulva, that's cool.  Get creative. Have fun with it.  However, if you choose to shave your vagina, it's not going to end well.  Don't use the good towels.   </span><br />
634. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
635. </span><br />
636. <span style="font-size: small;">Now, I know there will be someone who will get all worked up  about this. Calm down. You can teach your kids whatever you want.  Don't sweat it  because some stranger on the internet told you that it's the wrong  word.   You're not breaking any law of child  rearing.  No member of the Vulva Brigade will show up and ticket you for referring to your lady bits as your bajingo and hand you some reading material about the inaccurately named Vagina Monologues. </span><span style="font-size: small;">I'm not going to take away your euphemisms.  Hell, euphemisms are fun!  </span><span style="font-size: small;">Tell them it's a Harvey Wallbanger or a FlufferNutter if you like.  </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
637. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
638. </span><br />
639. <span style="font-size: small;">I'm just saying that technically, it's incorrect.  </span><br />
640. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
641. </span><br />
642. <span style="font-size: small;">To recap: </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
643. </span><br />
644. <span style="font-size: small;">The vulva is the correct term for the outside parts as a collective whole.</span></div>
645. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
646. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
647. </span></div>
648. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
649. <span style="font-size: small;">The vagina is the correct term for the "collective hole".  </span></div>
650. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
651. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
652. </span></div>
653. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
654. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
655. </span></div>
656. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
657. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
658. </span></div>
659. <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
660. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">What's your favorite euphemism for the VULVA?</span></span><br />
661. <br />
662. <br />
663. <br />
664. <div style="background: url('http://tools.blognation.com/bn/tools/favorite/image/d3dcaf82d9986cae6182bb70ebb4cfb4.png') no-repeat -1px -1px;">
665. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></div>
666. <br /></div>
667. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
668. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
669. </span></div>
670. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
671. <span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #3366ff;"><i> </i></span></b></span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
672. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
673. <span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory" border="0" class="nkutmgdglomqtpmikysn" height="59" src="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/directory/images//banners/tmb-468x60-fast.gif" width="468" /></a></span></div>
674. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
675. <span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">  </span></div>
676. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
677. <br /></div>
678. <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
679. <span style="font-size: small;"><br />
680. </span></div>
681. <br /><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><br />
682. &lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/8370523272818161692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/04/are-you-sure-thats-vagina.html#comment-form' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/8370523272818161692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/8370523272818161692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/04/are-you-sure-thats-vagina.html' title='Are you SURE that&#39;s a vagina?'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ClKCYtHo4sh9o_W7nV1iHensffs16P7iF-akmhEC0_QefcTJUgK93eV8e3siQX7YiahHBh2XXY03D1CfUmy-6ewlIamGcnZBX7cov4RNqESP8ZiNwdknY1rYvoBoekPlU2KnjICAgIA/s72-c/Venn+Diagram+corrected.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-4474570191097929428</id><published>2012-04-15T08:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:21:14.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Coupon Day Comes for Jose and the Prophylactics.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 24px;&quot;&gt;It was a  Friday night, the young&#39;uns were at a sleepover and The Man  and I had  the house all to ourselves.  I got a phone call on the way  home.  It  was The Man.  He asked me to pick up a few things for our evening   without the kids.  No problem, said I.  I&#39;m a grown-up-type person.  I   can buy stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
683. <br />
684. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">I normally don't get embarrassed about buying the more <i>personal</i>   items.  I buy maxi-pads and toilet paper all the time and I'll bet a   million dollars that the ladies behind the cash registers have used both   at least once.  (I can't speak for the gentlemen.) </span></span><br />
685. <br />
686. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">It's  easy when these products are put on the conveyor belt with a  few  friends to keep them company.  I tend to have about a dozen other   things on the belt that help draw the attention away from the economy   sized package of birth control.  "Let's see, I need   eggs...milk...flour...new socks...(this giant box of rubbers)...and   Pez!  Yep, that's all for today."</span></span><br />
687. <br />
688. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">It  works for me.  The box doesn't call attention to itself and   practically sing to the rest of the store, "Guess who's getting lucky   tonight?!"</span></span><br />
689. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">However...</span></span><br />
690. <br />
691. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">When  you show up with Trojans, K-Y, and a big bottle of Jose  Cuervo, at the  checkout, everyone KNOWS what you're doing with your  Friday night.  Of  course, when you make this purchase at the express  lane, the question  that begs to be asked is "Will you be able to wait  until you get to the  <i>car</i>?" </span></span><br />
692. <br />
693. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">The  Barely Legal To Drink kid standing next to me with his OWN   prophylactic/alcohol power duo in hand, caught my eye for an instant   before he resumed his intense study of the floor tiles.  I wish I could   say I was cool enough to at least wink at him and tell him to have a   great night. </span></span><br />
694. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">Alas, I was not.  I merely turned six shades of red as I   made my purchase, remembering my frequent shopper card and a "$5 off a   $25 purchase" coupon.  (Score!) </span></span><br />
695. <br />
696. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;"> </span></span><br />
697. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYsWiJOdY_jif8XGx0JYCzUawwis56Gkds7AxnKSD5s90SKilu4traGzqJO9_gvrL8s76FntzIQYUaOtMa70-efCuKhucfbVImVw-fpbzK7qerhM9zTiZhOerp4HoFAv9k93Y7Ux-uAI/s1600/rde2217l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYsWiJOdY_jif8XGx0JYCzUawwis56Gkds7AxnKSD5s90SKilu4traGzqJO9_gvrL8s76FntzIQYUaOtMa70-efCuKhucfbVImVw-fpbzK7qerhM9zTiZhOerp4HoFAv9k93Y7Ux-uAI/s320/rde2217l.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;">That's dead sexy.</span></span><br />
698. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXbP3YYp2ewg2Qb-gNOQk7OydjNRY9nJiLCR-Jm5YjUeBkua9nSJlsesrJQq9X2_NqlLxo6T9-XmbJylvu5zOpXbHeFESjhVBnA-0OqCoUZgjs5D98y57zPsgwC9Xq8f1jgy4FDIN_os/s1600/winning-cartoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXbP3YYp2ewg2Qb-gNOQk7OydjNRY9nJiLCR-Jm5YjUeBkua9nSJlsesrJQq9X2_NqlLxo6T9-XmbJylvu5zOpXbHeFESjhVBnA-0OqCoUZgjs5D98y57zPsgwC9Xq8f1jgy4FDIN_os/s200/winning-cartoon.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
699. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
700. <br />
701. <br />
702. <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 24px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This post originally appeared two years ago today, but it's one of my favorites.  Happy Anniversary, Jose and the Prophylactics.</span></span></span><br />
703. <br />
704. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.topmommyblogs.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;top mommy blogs&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Just Click To Send A Vote For Us @ Top Mommy Blogs&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; src=&quot;http://www.topmommyblogs.com/directory/images/banners/150x150_rounded.png&quot; width=&quot;150&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 24px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/4474570191097929428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/04/double-coupon-day-comes-for-jose-and.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/4474570191097929428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/4474570191097929428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/04/double-coupon-day-comes-for-jose-and.html' title='Double Coupon Day Comes for Jose and the Prophylactics.'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYsWiJOdY_jif8XGx0JYCzUawwis56Gkds7AxnKSD5s90SKilu4traGzqJO9_gvrL8s76FntzIQYUaOtMa70-efCuKhucfbVImVw-fpbzK7qerhM9zTiZhOerp4HoFAv9k93Y7Ux-uAI/s72-c/rde2217l.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-6539191769892699076</id><published>2012-01-24T14:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:25:52.451-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boogers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="corn"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="erikarobin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="finding jesus"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writer of wrongs"/><title type='text'>She did it again!</title><content type='html'>Our winter holidays started out as normally as they could have, considering who  we are.&amp;nbsp; We had our annual dinner and gift exchange at the in-laws&#39;  after church on Christmas Eve, which is always a great time; dinner was  wonderful, conversation was even better and there was wine.&amp;nbsp; Yay, MOSCATO!&lt;br /&gt;
705. <br />
706. It seems like every holiday, something happens that I simply  MUST write about because...(because I'm an obsessive over-sharing maniac) because I'm a blogger.  Sharing the mundane stuff like this is my life, my passion.  <br />
707. <br />
708. This year, Christmas was full of blog-worthy  stuffs to relay to you, gentle reader.  Sadly, the majority of it was lost  on Christmas morning because that is when tragedy struck.<br />
709. <br />
710. I'm getting ahead of myself (again).<br />
711. <br />
712. <br />
713. <span style="font-size: large;">A Holiday On Hold</span><br />
714. The girls each got a new pair of warm, fuzzy, stay-at-home-socks in their Christmas stockings from jolly old Saint Nicholas.  They love All Things Soft and Fluffy, so of course they put them on immediately.   This is important.  Trust me.<br />
715. <br />
716. After the last present was opened, the plan was for the kids and The Man to clean up the mess from Unwrapaganza while I started a lovely Christmas breakfast for everyone. That plan was rudely interrupted when I heard Lily yell something that derailed our lazy Christmas morning and sent it careening off into a ditch:<br />
717. <br />
718. "MOM!  SAM GOT A SPLINTER!!"<br />
719. <br />
720. Sam ran through the dining room in the slippery wood-collecting-socks that evil bastard brought for her and when she skidded to a stop, yes indeed, Sam...got a <i>splinter</i>.   <br />
721. <br />
722. If you are a regular reader of my family's tales, you will remember that <a href="http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-splinter.html" target="_blank">this has happened before</a>.   Many of you are already aware that I have a child who is a magnet for splinters and  when she gets one, she doesn't mess around with the tiny stuff that can  be gotten out with a simple tweezers or the aid of a needle.  No way, no  how!  When Samantha does it, she goes all out - sliding across the  hard-wood floors, yards at a stretch, to see just how much flooring she  can strip off in one go.  "FIND ALL THE SPLINTERS!" she cries.  She also  gets these enormous planks embedded so deeply and so securely into her skin that it  requires medical attention to retrieve them.  THIS was one of those times.  <br />
723. <br />
724. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
725. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugShtldO1FOIM1_AXcx-teEtKbIhohXUOYQ21r3jC_bETUOD-7QwFJrjjU77T3cZ-rrh2fgd31zSzpLljUjS5DAKEzUqr3qvBjXdf_dcviWB_IuH9li3LCXjk9fYlu67Eho9enwaB6LM/s1600/SANY0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugShtldO1FOIM1_AXcx-teEtKbIhohXUOYQ21r3jC_bETUOD-7QwFJrjjU77T3cZ-rrh2fgd31zSzpLljUjS5DAKEzUqr3qvBjXdf_dcviWB_IuH9li3LCXjk9fYlu67Eho9enwaB6LM/s320/SANY0033.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
726. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, that's not gonna cut it.</td></tr>
727. </tbody></table>After last year's ordeal (which I will <a href="http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-splinter.html" target="_blank">link again</a>,  because it's just that incredible), we knew not to waste any time  waiting for an army of white corpuscles to stop what they were doing and meander over to the foreign body that had taken refuge in the sole of her  foot, for she was likely to lose the entire appendage by the time they cooperated enough to force the splinter out.  It was time to get dressed and head to the  Convenient Care Clinic.  *nodding*  No Post-Gift Exchange Nap for you,  Johnny-Boy.  No waking up to the smell of maple bacon crisping in the oven.  Coats on, everybody!  Let's move out!<br />
728. <br />
729. <span style="font-size: large;">The Waiting is the hardest part</span><br />
730. <span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
731. We got to the Convenient Care Clinic, checked Samantha in and began to wait.<br />
732. <br />
733. And wait...<br />
734. <br />
735. <br />
736. And wait...<br />
737. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
738. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfE98NRAhCWwpGiN1UmvBkwv09fCqyKG951922NrU_4aTBEtnAUj0r7B7SNAHXzJK3y0VYK2wULmwnUOP3aemk35Smgk8tmZgtq7r1d45QLtkqR48RJ9owFZQ5RWeT5N0HXOyEw25Bts/s1600/Sam%2527s+latest+splinterectomy+4+.jpg" /></td></tr>
739. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three bored children, two parents, one large plank of wood didn't  make for a very merry Christmas.  At least we were all  together...irritated, but together.</td></tr>
740. </tbody></table><br />
741. <br />
742. <br />
743. Soon...(what am I saying? Strike that...) After waiting roughly the same amount of time it takes to cook a 20 pound turkey, we were shown  to a room where a nurse got the skinny on Sam's allergies (or lack  thereof), and a brief run-down of how she came to have a hunk of petrified oak  jammed inside her person.  When she had enough information, we were then told  to follow her to the next room and you'll never guess what happened  there!<br />
744. <br />
745. Aw, you guessed it: more waiting.<br />
746. <br />
747. <br />
748. So we snapped a picture of the adorable six-year-old's foot to kill some time: <br />
749. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
750. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3VpiV9o7g8-1F5TBeZUcn3pebKQfWcwOhj77bgE1rLlgqAtTTAQSZ8wj3aydNV4JDFHU_gRQEN8DnCiPgYHvE__mm9R_xAqNk2qFbwwCosX-k9r-wz14skgYRLsmrmbJFPoQYa0JQSY/s1600/Sam%2527s+latest+splinterectomy+2.jpg" /></td></tr>
751. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*pffft* Well, that took all of thirty seconds.  What do we do now?</td></tr>
752. </tbody></table><br />
753. As if sensing my boredom...irritability...and  general impatience that this was taking SO LONG, the more mobile members  of Sam's entourage began to play a nifty little game called "TOUCH EVERYTHING!!!"  Fun stuff, that game.   It's guaranteed to make your mother go abso-fricking-lutely insane in a matter of minutes.  <br />
754. <br />
755. Just  when we were sure they had forgotten about us (I have no idea how  that was possible, as we are noisy and were cordoned off from the rest of the office by only a curtain), in walked the doctor who would surely save Sam from the stabbing pain of Pinocchio Syndrome and us from the agonizing wait.  <br />
756. <br />
757. He took one look at it and said, sounding much like Gary Cole in Office Space: "Mm...yeah, I think we're going to have to go ahead and, uh...numb that."  Well, gee, Bill, do you think so?  I mean, look at it.  There's nothing to grab on to.  Any fool can see that we're going to have to go in after it and one of us may not come out alive.  If you want to try that on a frightened six-year-old without Novocaine, be my guest.  Just use your Jedi mind trick and we'll be on our way.  Moron.<br />
758. <br />
759. Instead of using The Force, we (Dr. Bill and I) opted to put a topical numbing agent on it so the needle wouldn't be as traumatizing to my six-year-old.  Add fifteen more minutes of waiting, this time with Mommy sporting a pair of purple surgical gloves to apply some jelly textured numb-making stuffs to Sam's foot with "gentle PRESSURE" (*sigh*  Poor Sam), follow that with Dr. Bill shooting Novocaine into the entry point, and we were ready to begin. ("BEGIN?!" WTH?!)   He made a few futile attempts to grab the splinter, but found he was unable to get a good grip on it with the smallest hemostat he had, so after all this time, Good Doctor Nimble Fingers couldn't get the splinter out and he sent us to the hospital emergency room.<br />
760. Damn.  This rivaled last year's splinterectomy debacle in a big, sad way.<br />
761. <br />
762. <span style="font-size: large;"> At the ER</span><br />
763. I am happy to report that after another hour of waiting , an ultrasound on Samantha's foot, two near-fistfights between the Tired and the Hungry, and about a thousand mobile status updates to Facebook, Sam was once again, splinter free.   HALLELUJAH!   <br />
764. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNL2IAm9qa26vdvKARWaVtZLR-cbRt9XNt2PK43XvK61zFE59F5aVi9U-wqmCdZstNytsUGwRMNDPehRcytmvqW1i4EMr72zFBu04TEg9ldU0sIbRRlj80PzZvcz_vW-brIxKjO1NnLB0/s1600/Sam%2527s+latest+splinterectomy+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNL2IAm9qa26vdvKARWaVtZLR-cbRt9XNt2PK43XvK61zFE59F5aVi9U-wqmCdZstNytsUGwRMNDPehRcytmvqW1i4EMr72zFBu04TEg9ldU0sIbRRlj80PzZvcz_vW-brIxKjO1NnLB0/s1600/Sam%2527s+latest+splinterectomy+3.jpg" /></a><br />
765. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
766. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5z-y_mlNTuYH9DO-6O0Ep_E_S-A9wRhhHMVzKIhwOQqiz3ltP2KGbJCGauWg2AvSnRKUwxEEw36PS-FLJzcFvv5dTUmKa3CeimmhUw5BiN9T03Q1dJd-dADOuorIVe-6vMU3la071Vo/s1600/SANY0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5z-y_mlNTuYH9DO-6O0Ep_E_S-A9wRhhHMVzKIhwOQqiz3ltP2KGbJCGauWg2AvSnRKUwxEEw36PS-FLJzcFvv5dTUmKa3CeimmhUw5BiN9T03Q1dJd-dADOuorIVe-6vMU3la071Vo/s320/SANY0005.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
767. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holy crap!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
768. </td></tr>
769. </tbody></table><br />
770. <br />
771. <br />
772. <br />
773. <br />
774. <br />
775. <br />
776. <br />
777. <br />
778. <br />
779. <br />
780. <br />
781. <br />
782. <br />
783. <br />
784. <br />
785. <br />
786. <br />
787. <br />
788. <br />
789. <br />
790. <br />
791. <br />
792. <br />
793. <br />
794. <br />
795. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKe_06M1VUZWemm_Kk_9ZpxjSaSuGxlHZ-U9eIKjwNRxXrPoLCx-d7TcvQuQC4mExxnFF1mst6yJknUo3_EJuHzuc5DnguPKlHXAa8JTSw5NR5H3LAo3y9yHjuWiUtDrcQ_id-fnQxqU/s1600/Sam%2527s+latest+splinterectomy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <br />
796. <br />
797. <br />
798. <br />
799. <br />
800. <br />
801. By this time, we were an hour late for dinner at my mother's house, so we gathered up Sam, the splinter and the rest of our clan and headed for Nana and Poppa's house, stopping ever-so-briefly at home to grab the presents and the makings of my contribution to our meal (thank God I didn't have to make anything more complex than green bean casserole).<br />
802. <br />
803. <span style="font-size: large;">We'll call this next part "Splinter At Large"</span><br />
804. When we finally got to my parents' house, Sam immediately wanted to show the splinter to her cousins.  Now, after the morning's ordeal, we didn't expect her to actually take the splinter OUT  to show it off and we sure as hell didn't expect the splinter to make a break for it, but that's what happened.  When she opened the container, it fell.   It fell near(?)...under(?)...IN(?)...the cushions of the couch.  It was lost.  Oh, damn.  That's at least a hundred dollar splinter (and probably more, as we have yet to receive the bill from the ER).  We wanted to keep it and put it in our shadow box of "Stuff that got stuck in our kids".  Shoot.  Now it's gone.  Bummer.<br />
805. <br />
806. <span style="font-size: large;">Was Lost But Now Am Found</span><br />
807. I went to my parent's house the day after Christmas to have coffee and in a last-ditch effort, searched the couch cushions once more, to see if I could find that blasted splinter.  I picked up a cushion and clapped it once and the splinter fell onto the couch.<br />
808. *THUD*<br />
809. Me:  No. Freaking. Way.  I FOUND IT!  QUICK!  DAD, GET THE BOTTLE!  GET THE BOTTLE!   <br />
810. My Father: Where is it?<br />
811. Me:  It's still in my purse!<br />
812. My Father:  Don't move!  I'm on it!<br />
813. <br />
814. And so we wrangled that splinter into the bottle and closed it up tight. REALLY TIGHT.<br />
815. <br />
816. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
817. <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpXL0i9_6ofy4dR59PQGY9QtKj1v_ZSApPHOvRENpE29oZW28OyNyk1hA-9e7JzgpG-6ypDWbQ0SG-s8Wwvbqe5QTwxS2QAses7vrAMLpykJq3vylHrtjuaAv3F5C70cIk-Edt5vNZBc/s1600/SANY0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpXL0i9_6ofy4dR59PQGY9QtKj1v_ZSApPHOvRENpE29oZW28OyNyk1hA-9e7JzgpG-6ypDWbQ0SG-s8Wwvbqe5QTwxS2QAses7vrAMLpykJq3vylHrtjuaAv3F5C70cIk-Edt5vNZBc/s320/SANY0012.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
818. <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That oughta hold it.</td></tr>
819. </tbody></table><br />
820. <br />
821. <br />
822. <br />
823.  Once again, the world is safe for Samantha's tender feet.  Sort of.  <br />
824. <br />
825. <br />
826. We're getting carpet this spring.<br />
827. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/6539191769892699076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/01/she-did-it-again.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6539191769892699076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/6539191769892699076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2012/01/she-did-it-again.html' title='She did it again!'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugShtldO1FOIM1_AXcx-teEtKbIhohXUOYQ21r3jC_bETUOD-7QwFJrjjU77T3cZ-rrh2fgd31zSzpLljUjS5DAKEzUqr3qvBjXdf_dcviWB_IuH9li3LCXjk9fYlu67Eho9enwaB6LM/s72-c/SANY0033.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-3691971590212885210</id><published>2011-03-02T07:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:24:10.254-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><title type='text'>The Amazing Adventures of Hop-Along Sam and the Splinter of Doom!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #33cc00; font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;JUST A SPLINTER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
828. <br />
829. Normally, a splinter wouldn't be blog-worthy, but when you're the parent of an overachiever, it becomes a major production.<br />
830. <br />
831. Our story begins on a rainy winter morning.  While stalling in her preparation for our friends' wedding, Samantha decided not to put on her tights as Mother had instructed, but to instead play a game of Chase After The Cat on the hardwood floor of our dining room.<br />
832. <br />
833. And Sam got a splinter.<br />
834. Sam screamed.<br />
835. I pulled it out.<br />
836. It was big.<br />
837. <br />
838. (Now, I say "big" and, in average splinter terms, this one was about half an inch long total, with half of that under her skin.  That would be "big" in Splinter-ese.  Have you got the picture?)<br />
839. <br />
840. She complained that her leg hurt even after the splinter was removed, but how much of that was pain or general crabbiness we didn't know.  We suspected that it was sore because it was such a big splinter.  She limped for an hour.  She then proceeded to dance the night away with her sisters and the bride and groom, doing the Hokey-Pokey and turning herself around, limp and pain-free...or so we thought.<br />
841. <br />
842. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdl05bfDf_kCewJH2BgDm_HjU8eofXP3rA51jVGQd4Prkvz_VrNICLwlzmjkZxWcUU1maRMsE_dRHC8ePkpWeLkzrr4YwIodNJ7U2u8asoZUeCb7d8mFVf9RDQl5j_l2swb7QexIsI8a0/s1600/SANY0066b.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdl05bfDf_kCewJH2BgDm_HjU8eofXP3rA51jVGQd4Prkvz_VrNICLwlzmjkZxWcUU1maRMsE_dRHC8ePkpWeLkzrr4YwIodNJ7U2u8asoZUeCb7d8mFVf9RDQl5j_l2swb7QexIsI8a0/s400/SANY0066b.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579482984103720338" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 298px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
843. <br />
844. The next day, it looked like this:  <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAXTJW0e8rkA-D8PTFd3CRo8HolOkTSBOqnx80BC3CUkGnozAO0m5LzOHRObXSlRIB0JOHiPu1nzKU9NNKiD332ymDF7V50VxZvWGpH68fQ5-G5jN1w4-011cjIenYnTDadiPjfDs_tI/s1600/Sam%2527s+leg1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAXTJW0e8rkA-D8PTFd3CRo8HolOkTSBOqnx80BC3CUkGnozAO0m5LzOHRObXSlRIB0JOHiPu1nzKU9NNKiD332ymDF7V50VxZvWGpH68fQ5-G5jN1w4-011cjIenYnTDadiPjfDs_tI/s400/Sam%2527s+leg1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579483421114782546" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
845. <br />
846. Still a little swollen, I was concerned that there might have been another piece in there.  We picked off that little scab and to our amazement, there was another piece of splinter attached to the scab.  This one was about a quarter of an inch long.  Well!  NOW she should be feeling MUUUCH better.<br />
847. We thought that was the last of it.<br />
848. <br />
849. Until.<br />
850. Two months later, while I was tucking her in, she requested a pillow for under her leg.  I said, "What for?"  "For where my splinter was.  Hello-o."  "What??  Is that leg bothering you?"  "No, just when I lay on it."  "Let me see your leg. Sam."<br />
851. <br />
852. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqJ8YZm2boIkTcaf0HVkrcLlWn0fo8xEQfRSrCNHkkwUD5bedvPvLzYGP_x3QJq0_255zyMERtenjwYd3Bpb6tjdu0Mdi57tix1lCDHM-Yr4mpAE7nYN88zYGbf87-RnhusOnpcgBObU/s1600/0221111909a.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqJ8YZm2boIkTcaf0HVkrcLlWn0fo8xEQfRSrCNHkkwUD5bedvPvLzYGP_x3QJq0_255zyMERtenjwYd3Bpb6tjdu0Mdi57tix1lCDHM-Yr4mpAE7nYN88zYGbf87-RnhusOnpcgBObU/s400/0221111909a.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579516028572843250" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
853. HOLY CRAP!!!<br />
854. <br />
855. <span style="color: #33ff33; font-weight: bold;">SPLINTERECTOMY -</span><br />
856. <br />
857. After many exciting (for Sam) and nerve-wracking (for Mom and Dad) visits to the doctor, an orthopedic specialist, an x-ray and an MRI, we finally learned that there were still pieces of that danged splinter in her little leg muscle.  STILL!  AFTER TWO MONTHS!   And it would require surgery to get those pieces out!<br />
858. <br />
859. (I accept this Darwin Award on behalf of the clueless parents of splinter-filled children everywhere.)<br />
860. <br />
861. <span style="color: #33ff33; font-weight: bold;">THE BIG DAY!</span><br />
862. <br />
863. Finally the day of Sam's Splinterectomy was upon us.<br />
864. <br />
865. First, she watched Dora the Explorer while we waited for her nurse to ask us a bajillion questions.<br />
866. <br />
867. <br />
868. <br />
869. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEKTYOYqXFh9rnRMSFM9X1Dv3pCvEs9CHNpTJAoOs-Au-3K7QT3webBBZuA2babMAscCRAAEVE0Jwo4VP_ZMRgSV87v_aM4V4mNLtCSxzEECiWTHRzCHdaYxBcRE7ZL0_UbPtzwjnPLo/s1600/0228111137.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEKTYOYqXFh9rnRMSFM9X1Dv3pCvEs9CHNpTJAoOs-Au-3K7QT3webBBZuA2babMAscCRAAEVE0Jwo4VP_ZMRgSV87v_aM4V4mNLtCSxzEECiWTHRzCHdaYxBcRE7ZL0_UbPtzwjnPLo/s400/0228111137.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579488106678035762" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
870. Then a nice lady came in and painted her leg with Snooki Bronzer.  Ooh, purdy!<br />
871. <br />
872. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXvJGt1VvpWfx1vVs4C3C0f2N9oLjcTl8pzWc5x8nNtCNlhHlZYnX_pRvzONaL_-5I1NycjTC4tLYzl7DTdCUw5JKulyVm5eWtgR_opWlhAI3pmz3PSWs4vrbnmayTviBL4QqxCATEts/s1600/0228111200.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXvJGt1VvpWfx1vVs4C3C0f2N9oLjcTl8pzWc5x8nNtCNlhHlZYnX_pRvzONaL_-5I1NycjTC4tLYzl7DTdCUw5JKulyVm5eWtgR_opWlhAI3pmz3PSWs4vrbnmayTviBL4QqxCATEts/s400/0228111200.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579488442212495682" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
873. Then they put this adorable little shower cap on her and wheeled her off.<br />
874. <br />
875. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bO4GF1ejs2GI67Ua3o0a15v8a_3O1Vzxa-0IZwdnEqioMO9G50U0Ri2NSxSh9H6CLL8ioPjLHm6869GlDv3Le0f2P0vlzuXJ3nLS7wQl9mrQMaTkcRiawxl7daPeHolUKyt2D4mRZNk/s1600/0228111250.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bO4GF1ejs2GI67Ua3o0a15v8a_3O1Vzxa-0IZwdnEqioMO9G50U0Ri2NSxSh9H6CLL8ioPjLHm6869GlDv3Le0f2P0vlzuXJ3nLS7wQl9mrQMaTkcRiawxl7daPeHolUKyt2D4mRZNk/s400/0228111250.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579488695025165458" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
876. But first, a smile for all her FANS:<br />
877. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbwmgsXlbFcGM1eVMKg3oAY9wSoflzj5a8NpSvm6c-n7nC1TsoECKA7YZ4y51Gk5n-imDO39q5_eVk7iuo2jdIKU1chY0Yb5vc8Do-hatW_cK4bF60r57o_vrd9OiKbWr-l7j2y4oYrI/s1600/0228111251.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbwmgsXlbFcGM1eVMKg3oAY9wSoflzj5a8NpSvm6c-n7nC1TsoECKA7YZ4y51Gk5n-imDO39q5_eVk7iuo2jdIKU1chY0Yb5vc8Do-hatW_cK4bF60r57o_vrd9OiKbWr-l7j2y4oYrI/s400/0228111251.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579488857890945314" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
878. Still all giggles as she's wheeled into surgery.<br />
879. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DdjCXU8fgiKe6cnQgin3GUiCUwz82YCRcPB7nycEPTmrHXQUz8LbwJri8ClmusIQFpDj5fOHuNuqDpSXBXANwJnm8WRoHSQEphnSBr9EelGO60RVX94o77xAoRdiUnH-XfjUx912KBU/s1600/0228111251c.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DdjCXU8fgiKe6cnQgin3GUiCUwz82YCRcPB7nycEPTmrHXQUz8LbwJri8ClmusIQFpDj5fOHuNuqDpSXBXANwJnm8WRoHSQEphnSBr9EelGO60RVX94o77xAoRdiUnH-XfjUx912KBU/s400/0228111251c.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579488989249194786" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 293px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
880. Forty-five minutes and two planks of wood later, a groggy Sam wakes up.<br />
881. <br />
882. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeuaR9VzxJGuVNoRwg7WeVEwH1kmTgRLzpAmDLhI-Ctd-jhBAWKy9CBy-TWlRH5V91g0dziiZn6d7UdhhjHC6SWIDfruyXTA-MSpkwsI0gOxOIVn4iHKWktfM0-7I_QBFMoXUN_JxC3zQ/s1600/0228111338.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeuaR9VzxJGuVNoRwg7WeVEwH1kmTgRLzpAmDLhI-Ctd-jhBAWKy9CBy-TWlRH5V91g0dziiZn6d7UdhhjHC6SWIDfruyXTA-MSpkwsI0gOxOIVn4iHKWktfM0-7I_QBFMoXUN_JxC3zQ/s400/0228111338.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489099812966738" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
883. Sam, can you give me a smile, honey?<br />
884. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMlb3yjtrmtoVxQceEGXx7HAfbHxNWSAJ34JYqORaLNlu-om0UUWipIGtW71U0eA8ofTgNjovveuhNzhlczve_FJTjwue6f_pVZHtR5-XnrPJKZV5m_oJmltQpVTSyLM34P_br6h5iXc/s1600/0228111342.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMlb3yjtrmtoVxQceEGXx7HAfbHxNWSAJ34JYqORaLNlu-om0UUWipIGtW71U0eA8ofTgNjovveuhNzhlczve_FJTjwue6f_pVZHtR5-XnrPJKZV5m_oJmltQpVTSyLM34P_br6h5iXc/s400/0228111342.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489285391561010" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
885. *snicker*  Thanks, Dopey.<br />
886. <br />
887. She got a few ice chips and a cherry popsicle.  We were sure to remove all wood from Sam's vicinity when she finished it.<br />
888. <br />
889. These are the sticks the doctor removed from my baby's tibialis anterior.  They look to me like they'd support popsicles of their own.<br />
890. <br />
891. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3Hmoj7TzVa4o_vpSgl3SMTf4np0j1xd6Fh-xHX7zOJXnMVpu-XAUZa0IbKpYnF8qnYATB6Xj_CPB8NmNbkbKjtb27YAJSUSykdBAXuXxXEJ4EJSmkZ0Dl5vvkNS7it91YklecCNhVGY/s1600/photo.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3Hmoj7TzVa4o_vpSgl3SMTf4np0j1xd6Fh-xHX7zOJXnMVpu-XAUZa0IbKpYnF8qnYATB6Xj_CPB8NmNbkbKjtb27YAJSUSykdBAXuXxXEJ4EJSmkZ0Dl5vvkNS7it91YklecCNhVGY/s400/photo.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579490603882887890" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 299px;" /></a><br />
892. <br />
893. And this is what her leg looked like when she woke up:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfiCeXfPI4C6kq4egRV4Mlbh8E0zSM663xX2CxGp9hLkt6k60BRQPa3WCWOuGEQfqhKsKKedDX4lq0Le76irU7YpbMwx6rRYEYUj_ApZn6Y9143ENklwkfEZIxbJTHjearyHRHx1nYFM/s1600/0228111338a.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfiCeXfPI4C6kq4egRV4Mlbh8E0zSM663xX2CxGp9hLkt6k60BRQPa3WCWOuGEQfqhKsKKedDX4lq0Le76irU7YpbMwx6rRYEYUj_ApZn6Y9143ENklwkfEZIxbJTHjearyHRHx1nYFM/s400/0228111338a.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489449409410610" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
894. Oh, but the excitement doesn't end there.  We knew that she would be spending the night, to get a jump and a boost on the antibiotics to clear up the infection that Wooden Nastiness had created.  We were prepared to have her sleeping at the hospital hooked up to an IV.  What we didn't realize (and were not told about until she was in recovery) was that the pediatric unit is at the hospital across town.  So the Medic Team came...<br />
895. <br />
896. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbX8K2X3FGeSTnsL-DhulOcP4tIM1wRMrC3_SeIha6b0rXNXzuIy2gAd_5NZZ4wm53kzE10NNwibRd7l3wU6br38a4nEQZDbhJ8pXx19Aisan-jO9g8rb4fIfhvPi1ETLU_OUDnI3JnAE/s1600/0228111504.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbX8K2X3FGeSTnsL-DhulOcP4tIM1wRMrC3_SeIha6b0rXNXzuIy2gAd_5NZZ4wm53kzE10NNwibRd7l3wU6br38a4nEQZDbhJ8pXx19Aisan-jO9g8rb4fIfhvPi1ETLU_OUDnI3JnAE/s400/0228111504.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489571994598850" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>And transferred her to the East campus.  I had to sign to have the child shipped.  Weirdness.  Of course, we got a picture of her first (and hopefully only) ambulance ride.  Doesn't she look thrilled?<br />
897. <br />
898. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilIDaQRa6Q8wAwWvg0fdWkbma4fA_hEPeAOJ5O3MBt3Vzw4UoS09jdXW7sdsloDue8JqabEFiH_jpoYsMHUgDi8ojlh6lZFgTHOnCY6G8yZr_oaWUcrbuOju9IJyJHTVHpKLXqcJw8p4s/s1600/0228111508.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilIDaQRa6Q8wAwWvg0fdWkbma4fA_hEPeAOJ5O3MBt3Vzw4UoS09jdXW7sdsloDue8JqabEFiH_jpoYsMHUgDi8ojlh6lZFgTHOnCY6G8yZr_oaWUcrbuOju9IJyJHTVHpKLXqcJw8p4s/s400/0228111508.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489689342691410" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
899. The bumpy ride from the West campus was entertaining/embarrassing.<br />
900. EMT #1 (girl with ponytail in pic): What did she have?<br />
901. ME: Splinter.<br />
902. EMT #2 (dude without glasses in pic): Wha-huh?<br />
903. ME: She had a splinter.  Two of them, actually.  Doctor Hussein just removed one that was over half an inch long and one that was just less than half an inch.  They were in her muscle.  For about two months.   Without complaint.<br />
904. EMT #1: Oh-Em-Gee!<br />
905. ME: Right?!<br />
906. EMT #2: Tough kid!<br />
907. ME: She's like the Black Knight in Monty Python's Holy Grail.<br />
908. EMT#3 (with glasses): Ha-HA!  "It's just a flesh wound!  Come back and fight!"<br />
909. ME: Exactly.<br />
910. <br />
911. We got her into her room where they scanned the UPC code on her bracelet and told me she would cost an arm and the other leg and then put a little anti-theft device on her ankle that we were promised would sound off many an alarm in the event of her sleepwalking, attempted escape or kidnapping.  Let it be known that you can't pull a Dine and Dash at Genesis East without serious repercussions...or at least a heck of a lot of noise.<br />
912. <br />
913. My mother helped her get settled in.   In the picture below, Sam is reading her the list of movies.  Apparently the hospital gets Netflix.  I don't even want to know how much they'll charge for that on our bill.  $140 for The Jungle Book 2?!  WTH?!<br />
914. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9fx6zdzphTM6oWLZuwL2HV4tRzDwCNHnRXfRnK_U2BXDNwgGzBBjHtWkq64BXq1HsvH3U9mKp8H4SRcT8sdgym5TjmavzLqenu9Sp93DdCh1TyDtch3PNdlXI8NUWxHg7E3VBTq-vR4/s1600/0228111532.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9fx6zdzphTM6oWLZuwL2HV4tRzDwCNHnRXfRnK_U2BXDNwgGzBBjHtWkq64BXq1HsvH3U9mKp8H4SRcT8sdgym5TjmavzLqenu9Sp93DdCh1TyDtch3PNdlXI8NUWxHg7E3VBTq-vR4/s400/0228111532.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579489831355284642" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
915. After school, her sisters came to hang out.   There was at least some semblance of normalcy again with all of them in one room.   No one argued, which was super-nice.<br />
916. <br />
917. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KAAjOiBWHP08LR2aWeieDUm_VAGVUmdVhYYX0lHrp_1qU9qBJYK-Vn5yCBkINYN9Ucl8oIqyt65bCI1dhkbeT9NrS387EIot4316V9a_OQNw7B1MGf089J71HAJeTJTwncO98_H9KNQ/s1600/0228111629.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KAAjOiBWHP08LR2aWeieDUm_VAGVUmdVhYYX0lHrp_1qU9qBJYK-Vn5yCBkINYN9Ucl8oIqyt65bCI1dhkbeT9NrS387EIot4316V9a_OQNw7B1MGf089J71HAJeTJTwncO98_H9KNQ/s400/0228111629.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579490340721500674" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Madison's 12th birthday was that same day, and more than slightly overshadowed by the Splinterectomy, the poor girl.   She took it really well and let Sam's recovery take the front seat that day.  She's a great kid.<br />
918. <br />
919. Weird fact #68:  I gave birth to Madison 12 years earlier just two floors up from where we were sitting.  She declined my offer to re-enact the moment of her birth.  *humph*  Some kids just don't care about history.<br />
920. <br />
921. Thankfully, she had already celebrated with a Slumber Party of Awesomeness the Friday before.  Still, we got her a little something for her actual birthday.   See that little brown thing in her hand?  It's a gift card.  She's texting her friend to tell her about it.   The purple and green blankets are gifts for their newly decorated bedroom and we just decided to make them hospital/birthday gifts for each of them.<br />
922. <br />
923. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORTnAFity2MNZsEZAk9qwudaNHJ4U8qklSRpDkeXsli-xJG8RGG8KXR6fpSMqz5BHcd_xM31UA4xj1sO6cSqiUQuBu8CaOAsZXjmI7MF8vahkXpjmPEXZf9_AfD-WBADzB6Drc-5oz34/s1600/0228111735.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORTnAFity2MNZsEZAk9qwudaNHJ4U8qklSRpDkeXsli-xJG8RGG8KXR6fpSMqz5BHcd_xM31UA4xj1sO6cSqiUQuBu8CaOAsZXjmI7MF8vahkXpjmPEXZf9_AfD-WBADzB6Drc-5oz34/s400/0228111735.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579490883406304514" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
924. Sam liked the hospital food, at least the stuff that Madison didn't sample.<br />
925. <br />
926. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8K988KrwM_78v-0GFeTWQBLMHZ6adLzO6G-9diQ3c0Mi8siYGzIJYnsOX4DG9wGS9W1GceBZI1iTp2H-GwG0qN5Db8AkcCxb5Fp3sjE-19K_grt82rBsRIjItNrhAObnKZBWiBwvQ8OQ/s1600/0228111843.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8K988KrwM_78v-0GFeTWQBLMHZ6adLzO6G-9diQ3c0Mi8siYGzIJYnsOX4DG9wGS9W1GceBZI1iTp2H-GwG0qN5Db8AkcCxb5Fp3sjE-19K_grt82rBsRIjItNrhAObnKZBWiBwvQ8OQ/s400/0228111843.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579492507192573010" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Operation is THE game to play when you're in the hospital.  I think the pencil (Writer's Cramp) in his forearm is about the same size as the larger of the two splinters removed from Sam's leg.<br />
927. <br />
928. Weird fact #99:  Operation dude's name is "Cavity Sam".<br />
929. <br />
930. I laughed my face off at that.  Samantha didn't find it as amusing.<br />
931. <br />
932. <br />
933. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlrw9dbpYys-h72nVN59oFdZvPBieEwq148WS9IBo7qYLxrmU232lAosLTssYiRIQ8h5Y07SPGuL3VfEMMRvc1KnV42wlly1fRJ_m2M_RPKRKLwKvibcW63QcO0lhDzFCUBZhjQgCtxg/s1600/0228111920.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlrw9dbpYys-h72nVN59oFdZvPBieEwq148WS9IBo7qYLxrmU232lAosLTssYiRIQ8h5Y07SPGuL3VfEMMRvc1KnV42wlly1fRJ_m2M_RPKRKLwKvibcW63QcO0lhDzFCUBZhjQgCtxg/s400/0228111920.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579493244640836370" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>And finally she slept.  The book you see there is Curious George Goes To The Hospital, which her Aunt Jennie brought her a few days before surgery.  Seems that George eats a wooden puzzle piece and has to have surgery to get it out of his little monkey belly.  Wood is the debbil.<br />
934. <br />
935. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7p5YK1nhZRi8JXcO23Ewnv_8kN9OipTWXns3iukAQ7H2M-9tbolOn1xoWDGobBE0vJYXErob1zeh9PlZf_PFn-rLaecrludVLOQ77kCPbuiBMbohiVM8DqBoEF4SBFQtQn0VadrFQow/s1600/0301110038.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7p5YK1nhZRi8JXcO23Ewnv_8kN9OipTWXns3iukAQ7H2M-9tbolOn1xoWDGobBE0vJYXErob1zeh9PlZf_PFn-rLaecrludVLOQ77kCPbuiBMbohiVM8DqBoEF4SBFQtQn0VadrFQow/s400/0301110038.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579493370614589426" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a>And the next day, she was ready to roll...posing with the candy that Uncle Marky brought her the night before.  Notice the Anti Theft Device on her ankle.  They removed it and discharged her shortly after this pic was taken and we were able to get her dressed and head home.  She was thrilled at the idea that she would get to ride in a wheelchair (but the ambulance ride had her completely unimpressed).<br />
936. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQ9IYoQPr74nLb-eN2JYpMEHKV65doeR68MlJlH2GngMlDiyXci421YdQ2iHWMNMjfssGct4D6H781kTKpIG_lULcXXuv2k9PHgaaHsG3i-n4hAF5mtDm0wEdljt2DNHs2iMo9NmA7xw/s1600/0301110928.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQ9IYoQPr74nLb-eN2JYpMEHKV65doeR68MlJlH2GngMlDiyXci421YdQ2iHWMNMjfssGct4D6H781kTKpIG_lULcXXuv2k9PHgaaHsG3i-n4hAF5mtDm0wEdljt2DNHs2iMo9NmA7xw/s400/0301110928.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579493565156495746" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
937. We'll close with a picture of Sam on the mend.  This is her "Can we play Just Dance on the Wii" face:<br />
938. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmUtDk6HwCMfJtzQ8BSIFk0Nqd7SHQd_Our0hZeB1FSh78JeNgRY7sMg-qtc6HUG4-O52Iglkq7nIanfPfOSvgnntV9Fhk3cWbjbx3dHHuW8qihMZKP2vlIw1p0UBwvBsogG5SV5WoIM/s1600/0301111018.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmUtDk6HwCMfJtzQ8BSIFk0Nqd7SHQd_Our0hZeB1FSh78JeNgRY7sMg-qtc6HUG4-O52Iglkq7nIanfPfOSvgnntV9Fhk3cWbjbx3dHHuW8qihMZKP2vlIw1p0UBwvBsogG5SV5WoIM/s400/0301111018.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579493739258487010" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
939. <br />
940. Um...No.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/3691971590212885210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-splinter.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/3691971590212885210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/3691971590212885210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-splinter.html' title='The Amazing Adventures of Hop-Along Sam and the Splinter of Doom!'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdl05bfDf_kCewJH2BgDm_HjU8eofXP3rA51jVGQd4Prkvz_VrNICLwlzmjkZxWcUU1maRMsE_dRHC8ePkpWeLkzrr4YwIodNJ7U2u8asoZUeCb7d8mFVf9RDQl5j_l2swb7QexIsI8a0/s72-c/SANY0066b.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-753489446829745636</id><published>2010-12-06T07:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:27:58.006-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><title type='text'>Pictures From Hell - A Holiday Photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #33cc00; font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;...Hallelujah!  Holy Shit!  Where&#39;s the Tylenol?!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
941. <span style="color: #33cc00;">                                                Clark W. Grizwold</span><br />
942. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><br />I wanted to take a nice picture of my kids for a holiday card.  That's all.  </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;">I  didn't want to chisel their likeness into stone.  I didn't want them to  sit and pose while I painted a reproduction of the Nativity.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;">  A sweet photograph of my offspring grinning merrily at the camera was all I was looking for.<br /><br />The  dog was not in the room, Sugar Daddy wasn't mugging for the camera, no  cats were running in and out of the room chasing one another or their  tails or an imaginary mouse.  It was just the spawn, the tree and me and  it went something like this:<br /><br />Sam, sit there for a minute and let me check the lighting for this shot. *click*<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUZuSoeJamI4-f_1O2Ox5NTi-adaTAvOFqsbTEk0ojAS7qDRxqQ8qU8YarOg5w5WY2wY3P2nLM7ozPZK4P16_jww-1upg53z83YQCkAK5wruumZlFaQjQW_I95cY94eLgKcB9iGYda5c/s1600/SANY0128.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUZuSoeJamI4-f_1O2Ox5NTi-adaTAvOFqsbTEk0ojAS7qDRxqQ8qU8YarOg5w5WY2wY3P2nLM7ozPZK4P16_jww-1upg53z83YQCkAK5wruumZlFaQjQW_I95cY94eLgKcB9iGYda5c/s400/SANY0128.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547568179874688338" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Okay,  that's not bad.  That's All That and a bag of - can we lose the bag of  chips, please?  Thanks, honey.  Okay let's try it one more time.  Ready?   Say "Cheese".<br />Sam: "CHEESE."  *click*</span></span><br />
943. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr-pUknh179l2xqXikCW1ytH_AtGee12d8ODF4Vi0ZMp1akJXLUUTShJunh9p0dbuqAhi_XMevlfA_B38aa6Z9qwons3N-cgoDCbEwjX0DRvtwdEc_Rs51qT7bHrSShTmNGZAMJnzK8k/s1600/SANY0129.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilr-pUknh179l2xqXikCW1ytH_AtGee12d8ODF4Vi0ZMp1akJXLUUTShJunh9p0dbuqAhi_XMevlfA_B38aa6Z9qwons3N-cgoDCbEwjX0DRvtwdEc_Rs51qT7bHrSShTmNGZAMJnzK8k/s400/SANY0129.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547568881816291442" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><br />*sigh*  Dammit!  Go away, John!<br /><br />*enter rest of spawn*<br />Okay, is everyone ready?   Good.<br />1, 2, 3.  *click*</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlq0ZdZwN6BsjGyWyESVH3NyaCSgMWkh80qQs5_ENj3bvL6KOQ3g0NPZiOMUf__KrAmeVx6NPuhFG_92mWBByiWAm0lcsqKSdJmRtaAzFQX3-sWPAJa6-Lx03l4kZ9ZLkIgQnz-NlG06k/s1600/SANY0137.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlq0ZdZwN6BsjGyWyESVH3NyaCSgMWkh80qQs5_ENj3bvL6KOQ3g0NPZiOMUf__KrAmeVx6NPuhFG_92mWBByiWAm0lcsqKSdJmRtaAzFQX3-sWPAJa6-Lx03l4kZ9ZLkIgQnz-NlG06k/s400/SANY0137.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547573288663091202" style="cursor: pointer; height: 300px; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
944. <br />
945. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Good!   Now, Samantha, when you say "cheese", can you sit really still?  You  were a bit blurry in that one.  Let's try again, but this time when I  say "3" everyone freeze.<br /><br />1, 2, 3.  *click*</span><br />
946. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupKyoVBMNxGxevtlW7IU0WN_ORYv3ykcXP5-A68lXmmVzQfeu_AlEV7YE3Bh-aztW7Ie88ctA_i8h52iMvQTaK7amoaqmnqr1oiESJVvhhCZU82_Un9htKs3KyOgFDwlWbxwfHGysqAc/s1600/Maybe3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupKyoVBMNxGxevtlW7IU0WN_ORYv3ykcXP5-A68lXmmVzQfeu_AlEV7YE3Bh-aztW7Ie88ctA_i8h52iMvQTaK7amoaqmnqr1oiESJVvhhCZU82_Un9htKs3KyOgFDwlWbxwfHGysqAc/s400/Maybe3.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547574094858884930" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">No, Sam.  Not REALLY "freeze".  Just smile and sit still, okay?   Again...</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">1,2, *click*</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlW13EsWVcWmIsQgxvq4EY4XKNJS_nfOw8FIKBZl3iDhUBx34iHlmpMFJON734e-nkoORMBbHiM6ATw29EbFZrNYpuS9lVJkW1F9duxg_kmr7mXbTD3Gksrz4kh0kh-lkfR4XrmjBmXo/s1600/SANY0136.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlW13EsWVcWmIsQgxvq4EY4XKNJS_nfOw8FIKBZl3iDhUBx34iHlmpMFJON734e-nkoORMBbHiM6ATw29EbFZrNYpuS9lVJkW1F9duxg_kmr7mXbTD3Gksrz4kh0kh-lkfR4XrmjBmXo/s400/SANY0136.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547576229716695602" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
947. <span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />"WE WEREN'T READY!"<br /><br />I was trying to be sneaky about it.  I guess that didn't work.   Just look at me and smile, will you?   *click*</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjClgFz8UGFfdG6goDQRm-CzXgfCOW-U3hJQdxmXU_59iE4HxRHAJvlxSE8nFgR8taIVaH-rYKksIjF5MtuUVXrq_W3ry10OKg73nHcn_j5mGDPLfH47AspXTZgQ9RPN6JXwVj381_hwAE/s1600/SANY0143.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjClgFz8UGFfdG6goDQRm-CzXgfCOW-U3hJQdxmXU_59iE4HxRHAJvlxSE8nFgR8taIVaH-rYKksIjF5MtuUVXrq_W3ry10OKg73nHcn_j5mGDPLfH47AspXTZgQ9RPN6JXwVj381_hwAE/s400/SANY0143.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547578359638922866" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
948. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><br />
949. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXk6L8uL9eZklsBC3_Hy6ZYxEENPRQsNAUSYVATzSAnnF7BbUT7XPB9-apHlEHOslDuyl4ZwKxIHqlBN9GapguoFpw71hSJWx0325GZ6Xvc1uNjyybfMBkzCFd4thY_oTBFiMM2ARb5g/s1600/SANY0141.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXk6L8uL9eZklsBC3_Hy6ZYxEENPRQsNAUSYVATzSAnnF7BbUT7XPB9-apHlEHOslDuyl4ZwKxIHqlBN9GapguoFpw71hSJWx0325GZ6Xvc1uNjyybfMBkzCFd4thY_oTBFiMM2ARb5g/s400/SANY0141.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547577352137897154" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">"She farted!  GROSS, SAM!  MO-ommm!"<br /><br />Samantha, sit. STILL.<br />Madison: "Ha ha, you got in trouble! H</span><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">a ha! UNGH!"<br />*click*</span><br />
950. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57MrDoTSBOb2NWd_G8xzkAgjJIZzYoyHBVxXepTpQu6YyNLJkxyL2nDmgqXRFEIRXVIp9aN3toyg121mzWKCLMEAEOJwbt2rxzNKvs_Vvk1qppH8nCBPCZ5Fa_e2B1VPfoR800SNkeSc/s1600/SANY0144.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57MrDoTSBOb2NWd_G8xzkAgjJIZzYoyHBVxXepTpQu6YyNLJkxyL2nDmgqXRFEIRXVIp9aN3toyg121mzWKCLMEAEOJwbt2rxzNKvs_Vvk1qppH8nCBPCZ5Fa_e2B1VPfoR800SNkeSc/s400/SANY0144.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547579703675929074" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><br />
951. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6N6NX9Q7tOC2fSa3TRCGUsjdqVKqq06Ht3skV55V7k6I4kjHb8N9mEkFgfSkbnwQxidLKKEPN_gJ6zQw2rXB6yp0f1KsWqqepd6dQsTw92xMdr4n0bID4FuWm0rqByWOMGS-Iys3SRk/s1600/SANY0142.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6N6NX9Q7tOC2fSa3TRCGUsjdqVKqq06Ht3skV55V7k6I4kjHb8N9mEkFgfSkbnwQxidLKKEPN_gJ6zQw2rXB6yp0f1KsWqqepd6dQsTw92xMdr4n0bID4FuWm0rqByWOMGS-Iys3SRk/s400/SANY0142.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547580630881025186" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Lily, thank you for continuing to smile throughout this incredible mayhem.<br />Okay, people.  Let's just work with your hyperactivity and try a crazy picture.  Shall we?  Let's give it a whirl.<br /><br />1, 2, 3 *click*</span><br />
952. <br />
953. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcy-aFxC2er9OrboNDqI1OAvky3SJYfbXj6RgN2iDD-DHtYIvFj98lLsQ0032b9Vgk1t0srQmgggmzTVQs92nkGm5Z_wbVMqDBKL-ExsjK4HdO6k8N4YzB7gUdUgc2P1efKRWhUwwFSk/s1600/SANY0166.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcy-aFxC2er9OrboNDqI1OAvky3SJYfbXj6RgN2iDD-DHtYIvFj98lLsQ0032b9Vgk1t0srQmgggmzTVQs92nkGm5Z_wbVMqDBKL-ExsjK4HdO6k8N4YzB7gUdUgc2P1efKRWhUwwFSk/s400/SANY0166.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547581546100998498" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><br />
954. <br />
955. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20bxbrrqOCrYqHLlB9eBT_zyrjfdpLAyKoO2LJK2Ga5kiEMS3V-Eg91OswpEyofHgPVTeW5hHScsnyijVlO5oPnR2yd5xUUQ_saNunjXCuSmPnCrej11Yj_98RL3gh8RxklFIhhZqaG0/s1600/SANY0154.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20bxbrrqOCrYqHLlB9eBT_zyrjfdpLAyKoO2LJK2Ga5kiEMS3V-Eg91OswpEyofHgPVTeW5hHScsnyijVlO5oPnR2yd5xUUQ_saNunjXCuSmPnCrej11Yj_98RL3gh8RxklFIhhZqaG0/s400/SANY0154.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547582520990675586" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
956. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Nope.  Okay, bad idea.  And you all still have to sit relatively still.<br />Again...WAIT! <span style="font-weight: bold;"> STOP!</span>  Samantha, sit <span style="font-weight: bold;">still</span>!  Girls, stop TICKLING HER, THAT DOESN'T <span style="font-weight: bold;">HELP</span>!</span><br />
957. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><br />
958. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_K0dEEYl2y1RA_AKn5864S5GQxLqCtXpBhmUhEvQaRmK81rJqn10pAeYhyTYSZ-8kBIPj8rVxJpVxGGOwVt_vf_MSSzX0ZJPLbrEsqE4qbjfUfWTIUwK6s2FWiU9arXGgONz_yXgjI1Y/s1600/SANY0174.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_K0dEEYl2y1RA_AKn5864S5GQxLqCtXpBhmUhEvQaRmK81rJqn10pAeYhyTYSZ-8kBIPj8rVxJpVxGGOwVt_vf_MSSzX0ZJPLbrEsqE4qbjfUfWTIUwK6s2FWiU9arXGgONz_yXgjI1Y/s400/SANY0174.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547586080951292722" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
959. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">And then Lily had had enough.*click*</span><br />
960. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQbY7kOyqrRpcE-7rCRuy3rlt_XA1yo54hUbS_GLOfrxtFLUNKwG2LEY3k0Qn5QUUfRWgHcKlekCsuD8K5uTHH-v4yEElmnSAa4zMCIt1cTONv8e1sILOTzEw7OrYvgDHyWLmUpWLudg/s1600/SANY0177.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRQbY7kOyqrRpcE-7rCRuy3rlt_XA1yo54hUbS_GLOfrxtFLUNKwG2LEY3k0Qn5QUUfRWgHcKlekCsuD8K5uTHH-v4yEElmnSAa4zMCIt1cTONv8e1sILOTzEw7OrYvgDHyWLmUpWLudg/s400/SANY0177.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547606343323884466" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
961. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCnG992HgycQ2llqPnvmb5NIBoQn8IekutpwcHqhcRSBGKsaGKpQFk7ZP0TSfkKrEjjLremuzhxAvO-L3f69IQMcVoDMYxbUFHaUMJKdYvBCkxEMGi9eYXXKbp2l9J6749zmy0eH0Bm8/s1600/SANY0176.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCnG992HgycQ2llqPnvmb5NIBoQn8IekutpwcHqhcRSBGKsaGKpQFk7ZP0TSfkKrEjjLremuzhxAvO-L3f69IQMcVoDMYxbUFHaUMJKdYvBCkxEMGi9eYXXKbp2l9J6749zmy0eH0Bm8/s400/SANY0176.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547582978262647474" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">*click*</span><br />
962. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWIlweeOjyDq05bMaqdb6bEHLrfy4mrwO8b5hnp_PkNa6HOKdGHUlunfBR8WqCqcIP7KtwWmOsuO8OeEDWJR1SRxy0jvzMXorp04fsilR1hMrRjsHvJ8KDlGvoAKVZkxYLHy19r_MGOJ8/s1600/SANY0190.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWIlweeOjyDq05bMaqdb6bEHLrfy4mrwO8b5hnp_PkNa6HOKdGHUlunfBR8WqCqcIP7KtwWmOsuO8OeEDWJR1SRxy0jvzMXorp04fsilR1hMrRjsHvJ8KDlGvoAKVZkxYLHy19r_MGOJ8/s400/SANY0190.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547608820764883026" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Where the hell are your sisters?!   Oh, good Lord.</span><br />
963. <br />
964. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0g8bCPP6SvhKgQ58qYf40Ns0b5ECAPAeuosA3e8q1nJi9LWEbE6tWs6NXJhZoa-vnc9HKhHOoz-FUyo0JMBpFDhY9dZ75MB9vcWS8bbOl8i3vU4rswLBGLjfxJHcNFLfzxGzAg0Z1o4/s1600/SANY0184.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0g8bCPP6SvhKgQ58qYf40Ns0b5ECAPAeuosA3e8q1nJi9LWEbE6tWs6NXJhZoa-vnc9HKhHOoz-FUyo0JMBpFDhY9dZ75MB9vcWS8bbOl8i3vU4rswLBGLjfxJHcNFLfzxGzAg0Z1o4/s400/SANY0184.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547603202524926866" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ckvMHXow18QYLmuRwhv-20ENnqzPU-w6Alv0_qWWoGfq_fWOBgIu3evcIZh-gLa7SbYOENpE2klyutA5U1vBsujf1CC-Q0pl0YZMEAR_jEFVQpzFlq6qwQMds6WwPFGJC5M_7gL8eKg/s1600/SANY0185.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ckvMHXow18QYLmuRwhv-20ENnqzPU-w6Alv0_qWWoGfq_fWOBgIu3evcIZh-gLa7SbYOENpE2klyutA5U1vBsujf1CC-Q0pl0YZMEAR_jEFVQpzFlq6qwQMds6WwPFGJC5M_7gL8eKg/s400/SANY0185.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547585536497413138" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
965. <span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Lily!  Stop choking your sister!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Get back over here and let's just DO this damned thing before I completely lose it with you people!!   NOW SMILE!!</span></span><br />
966. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtgWWd6AZP_kUCF_LQNtTO7Kk32JTyk0NJmIaP9DRHEua6Yy5bk4wugnlFV_BwvT9vxgjuhcmlyorIeWmkvNsisUeXybqK8Ldquhr8dFr5KIhOTObbuo902VL8YquevTOUnKHUuAmJnk/s1600/SANY0210.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtgWWd6AZP_kUCF_LQNtTO7Kk32JTyk0NJmIaP9DRHEua6Yy5bk4wugnlFV_BwvT9vxgjuhcmlyorIeWmkvNsisUeXybqK8Ldquhr8dFr5KIhOTObbuo902VL8YquevTOUnKHUuAmJnk/s400/SANY0210.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547605218529758178" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Really, Sam?! Now you're incapable of smiling?!  After <span style="font-weight: bold;">all </span>that?!<br />*click*</span><br />
967. <br />
968. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dms1Rj8jqRmYdeM1pq7Hs5FdsXexuNE9_k1dK_kPGYu750RcIJ5cUI3-wjanYtJShy1a4kqHcznjJlMiDYQcfS1FpkQj9deBwCXlOlj8pLR2n1lds6QYs0mFfJJ3p-ndwOIhg2YAch0/s1600/saved5.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dms1Rj8jqRmYdeM1pq7Hs5FdsXexuNE9_k1dK_kPGYu750RcIJ5cUI3-wjanYtJShy1a4kqHcznjJlMiDYQcfS1FpkQj9deBwCXlOlj8pLR2n1lds6QYs0mFfJJ3p-ndwOIhg2YAch0/s400/saved5.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547604017927014354" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">Oh, forget it!!   I'll work with whatever else I've got!  Get out of my sight!!<span style="font-weight: bold;">  Go to bed NOW, all of you!!!  THERE WILL BE NO CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR!!!</span></span><br />
969. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>
970. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>
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975. <span style="font-size: 21px;"><b><i>Please note: </i></b></span><br />
976. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">**When the children were nestled all snug in their beds, their adventure but a memory, I cleared my head and transferred the carnage from camera to computer, I think I managed to piece together a holiday photo that truly captures their  essence:</span><br />
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981. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmA6HD9lQ5dqLE5F_XlJ4EPBjbehyphenhyphenJcYGWGXABOty_HY2Ct8tuPnjfGKuGTZFcrWuNmJ5My8w_13UC16lwT9oCZVmKUjxIwJicq2i_S63P4ZdVuTKGampGGQTBU0vH0X8l6eDAUxxD5jk/s1600/Picture+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmA6HD9lQ5dqLE5F_XlJ4EPBjbehyphenhyphenJcYGWGXABOty_HY2Ct8tuPnjfGKuGTZFcrWuNmJ5My8w_13UC16lwT9oCZVmKUjxIwJicq2i_S63P4ZdVuTKGampGGQTBU0vH0X8l6eDAUxxD5jk/s1600/Picture+001.jpg" height="320" width="640" /></a></div>
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992. <span style="font-size: 130%; font-style: italic;">So yeah.  Happy Holidays and all that junk.  :P</span><br />
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1014. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
1015. </div>
1016. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/753489446829745636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/pictures-from-hell-holiday-photo.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/753489446829745636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/753489446829745636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/12/pictures-from-hell-holiday-photo.html' title='Pictures From Hell - A Holiday Photo'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUZuSoeJamI4-f_1O2Ox5NTi-adaTAvOFqsbTEk0ojAS7qDRxqQ8qU8YarOg5w5WY2wY3P2nLM7ozPZK4P16_jww-1upg53z83YQCkAK5wruumZlFaQjQW_I95cY94eLgKcB9iGYda5c/s72-c/SANY0128.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-9009083914309827744</id><published>2010-11-27T13:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:27:38.151-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="oh christmas tree"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="your branches green delight us"/><title type='text'>Oh Christmas Tree - The Battle of The Green Giant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: underline;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;While I set up the tree with the kids, enjoy my story from last Christmas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;My Christmas tree is assembled, the  lights are on, and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;pepper-berry garland is in place.  The  ornaments are already beginning to go through a series of trips to  various boughs of  the tree (as I rearrange them daily) and should reach  their final destination on or by Christmas Eve.  That is when I shall  take one final look at my masterpiece and exclaim, &quot;That&#39;s as good as  it&#39;s ever going to get!&quot;  And then resolve that next year it will look  even better.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;       I was off to a slow start in  filling up my cup of Christmas Cheer this year, but I finally managed to  get around to that tree.  For those who go the &quot;real&quot; route,  getting the family Christmas tree can be a lively excursion - loading  all of the kids into the minivan and driving out to the  country.   Crouched on the snowy shoulder of a dirt and gravel road,  knees numb from the cold,  you nearly freeze your &quot;aspidistra&quot; off  sawing for dear life while the kids keep an eye out for Johnny Law!  Of  course, the less adventurous folk buy one from a tree lot.   I, on the  other hand, head to the lowest level of my house...to do battle.  To  take but one prisoner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;This is my tale....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;       For eleven long months, my  artificial tree has sat dormant in the &quot;Basement Du Frigidaire&quot;, waiting  under boxes of Easter decorations, old baby clothes, and furnace  filters.  It waits by the broken lamp, smelling faintly of cat litter,  rust and cinnamon candles, for the day to come when I would once  again free it from the evil clutches of The Roughneck Tote of  Entrapment.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;       Last weekend that day had  arrived.  I headed down the narrow and dark basement steps (Note to  self: change basement light bulb), holding onto the railing every inch  of the way.  I pushed aside the clothes basket blocking my path.   Pausing for a moment to pay homage to the beloved baby swing that  had served us so well over the years, I headed for the tote  that contained the beast.   I could sense its fury as I began to unearth  it from the pile of rubble set atop the mighty tree.  It sought the  warmth and freedom of the main floor, but in order to get those luxuries  it must first bend to my will.  I knew it would not leave this place  easily.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;       The Tote of Entrapment bulged  at the sides, barely able to contain the incredible mass of the tree.    It was secured with duct tape to reinforce its hold and still the  tree threatened to break free.  Grasping the end of the box, I surveyed  the path back to the stairs.  It looked clear.  I gave a great push and  felt the muscles in my legs cinch tight, but the tree didn&#39;t budge.  I  recovered quickly and moved around to the front of the green plastic  sarcophagus to see what was impeding my progress.   I saw there was a  length of two by four under the Tote of Entrapment.  Mumbling my  frustration into the dank basement air, I dislodged the board and  returned to my position behind the box.  With another forceful shove I  felt the box move smoothly toward the bottom of the basement steps.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;       I wrestled with the enormous  tree, lifting and pushing and lifting and pushing every step of the  journey.  Near the turn at the top I caught my sleeve on the railing and  for a moment I lost my grip on the monstrous, tree-filled box.  I felt  the tree slide backward.  &quot;No!&quot;, I cried.  I could see I was close to  the end of my battle.  I couldn&#39;t give up now.   I wouldn&#39;t give up  now!  Like a laboring mother who has just learned that her baby&#39;s  head is crowning, I gave one more fantastic push and the tree sprang  forth into the kitchen.  Carried by the momentum of that fierce  push, I charged through the kitchen and dining room yelling a war  cry that sounded something like this,  &quot;GETOUTTATHEWAYGETOUTTATHEWAYGETOUTTATHEWAY!!!&quot;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;     At last the battle was won!  I  was triumphant!  I danced jubilantly around the living room while my  children sang my praises and my dog cocked his ears, turning his head  to one side.  The children helped me to unfasten the box that held the  tree captive.  It burst out of the Tote of Entrapment with the same  sound heard when opening a new two liter of pop.   Freed from its  plastic cage, we set it up in the corner of the living room where it now  stands, obediently holding up strands of lights and brightly colored  ornaments on its &quot;lifelike&quot; boughs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;   Once again I have tamed the mighty  beast.    Another year...victory is mine!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;Behold awesomeness of the Green Giant:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikt08A9wl9bvLS10A-j9TN4zb2UUg2LHm4LKxxtDY72vMFonOjKZaVem9a5I7FJg3UrTzf5fmgXKj8EJsQpLUiF3qnA4tooefoQnwRQjZqwSpFFvAh8Wuq5yFhuhaCeV6sDSDyPId7Sko/s1600/edit2009treeA.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikt08A9wl9bvLS10A-j9TN4zb2UUg2LHm4LKxxtDY72vMFonOjKZaVem9a5I7FJg3UrTzf5fmgXKj8EJsQpLUiF3qnA4tooefoQnwRQjZqwSpFFvAh8Wuq5yFhuhaCeV6sDSDyPId7Sko/s400/edit2009treeA.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544315322847821970&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FdTKN-P1dapdYyTX_rRiJ3ahS6PS6ulgmIOP0YoAeRbyk0BhrSz1q556FN8CBD64kfCaEdYyw7xJ5O10xmPl32_9k4RYcPx4bbhFqLlWxqjypXdHLH09324LRUCglg_kOkbVXgxgGio/s1600/edit2009treeA.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:18px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:14px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:18px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:14px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:18px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:14px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/9009083914309827744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/oh-christmas-tree-battle-of-green-giant.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/9009083914309827744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/9009083914309827744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/11/oh-christmas-tree-battle-of-green-giant.html' title='Oh Christmas Tree - The Battle of The Green Giant'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikt08A9wl9bvLS10A-j9TN4zb2UUg2LHm4LKxxtDY72vMFonOjKZaVem9a5I7FJg3UrTzf5fmgXKj8EJsQpLUiF3qnA4tooefoQnwRQjZqwSpFFvAh8Wuq5yFhuhaCeV6sDSDyPId7Sko/s72-c/edit2009treeA.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-560053092342651844</id><published>2010-04-12T13:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:28:55.434-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="brinkley"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="entertaining"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erika"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="erikarobin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pee"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="samantha"/><title type='text'>And the Truth Shall Set You Free (Even Though You Smell Like Pee).</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Fade in:  My living room.   Picture me cuddling with my seven year old and my nine year old  daughters.  Enter husband, wearing serious face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;Honey, you&#39;ll want to come  see this.&quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Me: *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;I followed him to the  kitchen, where my husband, soul-mate, sugar daddy said, &quot;That&#39;s pee on  the floor,&quot; as he made a grand, sweeping gesture with his hand.   Yes,  indeedily, it certainly was pee, and a good portion of the kitchen floor  and a step-stool were covered with it.   The dog hasn&#39;t hosed down a  room like that in some time and quite frankly, the husband hasn&#39;t  either.  I knew who the culprit was by the fact that the dog wasn&#39;t the  only pantless one in the kitchen. I looked at the guilty three-year-old  Samantha and said, &quot;Sam, did you pee on the floor?&quot;  She said, &quot;Yes, but  I said I was sorry.&quot;   This surprised me (marking her territory on the  linoleum, not her apology) and I asked her why she would do that.   Sam  looked up from cleaning her mess like a miniature Cinderella and said,  &quot;Well, I had to GO.&quot;   ...Um...Yeah.  Okay, that served me right for  asking a three-year-old to explain herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Fast forward five minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Back to the kitchen to refill  my water.  Seeing the monster of a dog, I give him a pat on the head as  I pass.  His head is damp.   Wha...?   *double take*  &quot;How did your  head get...Oh, no.&quot;   I smelled his furry melon and sure enough,  that unmistakeable odor reached my nose.  Lovely.  Just lovely.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;SAM?!&quot;   *walks quickly to  the living room where Sam sits watching t.v. with her sisters*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;Why is Brinkley&#39;s head wet?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;He got it wet,&quot; said Sam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;Yes, I know, but HOW did he  get it wet, Samantha?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Child makes up story quicker  than you can blink...&quot;He put his head in his water bowl.&quot;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;I said, &quot;No, his head is wet  on TOP.  How did that happen?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Oldest sister Madison pipes  up, &quot;Sam, if you tell the truth you won&#39;t get in trouble.&quot;   (Yes!  Good  thinking, Madison.  That&#39;s how we&#39;ll get it out of her!   I was just  about to get the folding chair, rubber hose and a VERY bright light.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Sam confesses.  &quot;Yes, I  pee-peed on the doggy&#39;s head.&quot;  (Mommy hides behind a pillow, giggling  silently, thinking &quot;&lt;em&gt;Remember, you&#39;re her mother.  Laugh later&lt;/em&gt;.&quot;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&quot;WHY did you pee on the dog&#39;s  head?&quot;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Sam, very matter-of-fact,  shrugs her shoulders, explaining,  &quot;Because it was kinda FUNNY.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 18px;font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;Note: Sam has apologized to  the dog and promised not to pee on anyone ever again.  Madison and I  have recovered from our fits of laughter out of Sam&#39;s earshot and the  floor and dog are once again, clean and pee-free.  Thanks for your  support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/560053092342651844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-truth-shall-set-you-free-even.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/560053092342651844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/560053092342651844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-truth-shall-set-you-free-even.html' title='And the Truth Shall Set You Free (Even Though You Smell Like Pee).'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905432920530224534.post-4881099273291429126</id><published>2010-04-11T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2021-07-21T20:29:22.219-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="anecdotes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="entertaining"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erika"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="erikarobin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="motherhood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ninja"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pizza"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sugar packets"/><title type='text'>NO means &quot;NO&quot; - A Lesson In Self-Control</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;post-header&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;Pizza seduces  me. It tempts me with its slightly browned cheese and its rich and  nommable tomato sauce. It whispers, &quot;Eat me&quot; and without hesitation I  do. I can&#39;t help myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;I was having a(nother) piece of pizza at dinner  tonight, despite the annoying little voice that said, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;No, Erika. Put that back. You don&#39;t want another slice.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;I ignored that voice and went for the second  helping:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;Add  more crushed red pepper! Mama-Mia, I like-a the spicy pizza!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;*shake-a shake-a shak-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!  MYEYESITBURNSMYEYESOWOWOWOWOW!!!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. In my fevered frenzy of  seasoning, the smallest particles of (really) crushed red pepper caught  the wind of the ceiling fan and...I peppered myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;Ow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;After about ten minutes of flushing my very sore, very red eyes  under the bathroom faucet and cursing the employees of McCormick Spices  and their offspring and their offspring&#39;s offspring and anyone who knew  their offspring&#39;s offspring, I spent another ten minutes enduring watery  eyes and an uncontrollably runny nose. I now understand what it is that  pepper spray will do to an assailant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;I have learned my lesson. If I insist on  forcing myself on the pizza, I MUST NOT ARM THE PIZZA. (Clearly, I was  asking for it.) Better yet, I should steer clear of that  Italian-American tease and never think of it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;NO&quot; means &quot;NO&quot;. I get that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;I guess I didn&#39;t really want that piece of  pizza after all. Now that I think about it, it probably had a parasite  in its pepperoni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;(Ah-HA! Did you see what I did there? I rejected the pizza, it  didn&#39;t reject me. I dumped it first, therefore I win. Humph!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 130%;&quot;&gt;*quietly* Slut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/feeds/4881099273291429126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-means-no-lesson-in-self-control.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/4881099273291429126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905432920530224534/posts/default/4881099273291429126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-means-no-lesson-in-self-control.html' title='NO means &quot;NO&quot; - A Lesson In Self-Control'/><author><name>ErikaRobin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781054056642049055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSWaClKWxDIcZg-iPHDbeLtR7nyfI-eIix1AfjssICQPQAhBqeyx5_5Xf01rp_5g4u8Iw_Ywx7IyJtrZC1g6QJaHJghbAYzVNpcs4uTuO6SvF3FNZmMqbmUwxLKSZ6Q/s220/blogger+profile+pi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>

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