If you've been reading this blog with any regularity, you know I have zero problems making fun of myself. I mean, if you can't laugh at yourself, you shouldn't laugh at others, and believe me, I laugh at others plenty. People are just plain entertaining, and I'm among that group in a big way. But a couple things happened last weekend that made me realize I'm not only funny in real life, I might just be a horrible person.
First of all...my husband's facial hair.
Back late last summer Hubby decided that instead of growing his head hair out before going for his two weeks of mountain man life, he'd instead grow hair on his face. We've been married for a long time, and we dated for a long time, and in all those years he's had some kind of facial hair, but generally, especially in the last two decades, it's been a nicely trimmed goatee. I'm not a beard person, but I do like a nice goatee if it's kept well. So Hubby's obliged for a long, long time, except in August when he gets ready for his time out there in the wilderness with his sister. It's been that way the last couple years, and when he gets home he shaves it.
Not this year.
Nope that beard stuck around.
Now, I can't fault him. I mean, I have had short hair, which is not his preference, on and off our whole lives. Believe me, if I could grow great hair like Peaches, I would, but my hair gets stringy and gross so I keep it short. And, instead of allowing myself to go gray naturally, I highlight with magenta, so that my hair looks like an ash brown/white/magenta firework. Not exactly what any guy in his middle years would think of as ideal on his wife, but hey, we're open like that.
So I didn't say much about the beard. I mean, I'm a woman, so of course I mentioned it, and how I wasn't in love with it, but he seemed determined to keep it (probably out of spite, although he's not really the spiteful kind of guy) so I stopped saying anything.
Which brings us to last weekend. Last weekend was my release party for "Not While I'm Chewing!" so I was a little...let's just call it preoccupied most of the weekend. However...
That did NOT excuse what happened on Saturday right after the last book event.
We stopped at our favorite place for coffee and soup The Steaming Cup where I had an amazing cup of mushroom brie and a wonderful peppermint mocha frappe. (See I notice some things.) Hubby and I were enjoying a nice late lunch when we saw a guy with a massive beard walk by. I commented on the beard, saying it was so bushy and yikes.
Hubby: Well mine is less bushy.
Me: (Looking closely at him.) Oh, you trimmed everything nicely.
Hubby: (Rubbing his face) Um, not quite.
Me: YOU SHAVED IT OFF?
Friends, he'd shaved off everything except his original goatee. His cheeks were clean! And I'd missed it.
Me: When did you do that?
Hubby: Friday morning.
So...yes. I'm the WORST wife in the world. I missed my husband shaving his beardly scruff and I didn't notice it for almost 36 hours. In that time we'd eaten four meals together, watched a movie, kissed each other a few times, and yes, I'd patted both his cheeks affectionately. And I DIDN'T NOTICE!
I was feeling bad about that. And then this happened:
I'm part of our church's "Adult" choir. We used to be called the "Senior" choir, but then all the members got to be really, really senior, so we changed the name to make us feel younger or something. Anyway, our director understands our little group's limitations and we often sing not so much in harmony but antiphonally, men one phrase, women the other. This is especially true when we are scheduled to sing the psalm. (Those of you not familiar with church liturgy, well, I'm going to let you look it up.)
Such was the case this past Sunday. We were singing the psalm and, just to change things up, the director had the MEN start. This proved to be confusing to the women who almost always lead off the antiphonal singing. So in first service, before we stood up to sing, I leaned over and reminded my choir partner, a dear sweet lady I've known for more than 23 years, that we were NOT starting. She smiled and got it RIGHT! YAY US!
So, second service. You know, the service most people bail on because it really does start too late in the day (10:30) and runs sometimes past noon if the pastor has an especially important point to make. Also, second service comes, for Hubby and me, AFTER warm up, AFTER first service, AFTER teaching Sunday School, and BEFORE we've eaten for the first time in the day. I'm not making excuses for what happened, I'm just explaining where in our day this next thing fell.
So we stand up to sing the psalm and I look at my partner and I think, "I don't need to remind her that we're not singing the first phrase. She'll remember from first service. We're good to go."
And the director raises his hands....and then...
I SING THE FIRST PHRASE WITH THE MEN.
Complete mental disconnect from my brain to my mouth.
Now, this did NOT go unnoticed by anyone because I'm not a quiet singer. My partner leaned over and nudged me. And then she smiled and she has one of those great infectious little smiles that makes me giggle every time.
Which is what I did.
For the rest of the psalm.
I am CLEARLY the worst person. Worst wife, worst choir singer, IN THE WORLD.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Friday, January 13, 2017
First of all...how is it the middle of January already? Where did Christmas go? New Year's?
As you may have guessed I've been super busy with a few things, and I've been under the weather big time with a nagging exhaustion that just won't leave. So I was too busy and wiped out to make new Year's resolutions which is okay, since well, I generally don't keep them anyway!
HOWEVER, that doesn't mean funny things haven't popped up and of course I've kept track, so here we go, the first 5 for Friday of 2017!
5) It was the best of bathrooms, it was the worst of bathrooms!
I kicked off my public restroom usage of 2017 on a positive note. We were making the drive on New Year's Day from La Crosse to Madison and I needed to stop just outside our destination at a Mobil station in Middleton. (Marie, my friend in Madison, is going to be yelling at this point "Why didn't you just get to the house?" Well, I didn't want to start my visit with her with a "I MUST PEE!") Anyway, we stopped at this mostly deserted Mobil station in Middleton and let me tell you, the bathroom was PRISTINE! It was perfectly clean. It smelled clean! The stall was proper sized, the water was warm and the sink wasn't covered in stale water! GOLD STAR! I felt all positive about public restrooms.
There is a Champs in Brookfield. My coworkers and I like to go there. Such was the case last week. Since we in Wisconsin are muddling through some sort of megadeath cold temps I was bundled up. Heavy coat, scarf, mittens, sweaters (yes, more than one). We arrived before anyone else and I needed the ladies' room. So I went in, fully expecting a nice experience since it had been such a good public bathroom year so far.
First of all, the stall was smaller than just about any stall I've been in. In order to get in and close the door, I had to back in. Then I had to undo the coat and hand that up. Take of the scarf, hang that up. At this point, with purse, coat and scarf on the hook on the back of the door, there isn't much room between me and the toilet bowl. So I begin to undo the trousers and THAT'S when I took a look backward and saw....
BROWN....BROWN GROSS WET ALL OVER THE SEAT!
That's not the funny part. Nope. The funny part was me trying to get out of that stall with the coat, scarf, purse and undone pants so I could get into a stall that wasn't covered in gross!
4) You had WHAT for dinner?
Hubby and I went to his mother's for New Year's this year. Hubby roasted a duck for dinner and we had a lovely time, the three of us. Then I updated my Face Book status and Hubby and I headed out to see the holiday lights of La Crosse.
Here's the thing: hubby's mother does not have great Wifi. So I sent my update as a text to Face Book and then I shut my phone down and put it in my Grand Canyon of a purse, not to look at it again until a couple hours later when a I saw that a friend of mine had sent me a text saying, "Um Sarah, WHAT did you have for dinner?"
OH NO! WHAT DID I SAY?
Hubby and I tried to log on quickly, but again, weak wifi...so it took a few moments for us to see that I'd just told the world that my husband, my mother in law and I had enjoyed a lovely roasted DICK dinner.
I'm a Sunday School teacher. I have students who are friends on FB. This was SOOOOOOOOO NOT GOOD! (And neither were the comments from my less restrained friends who clearly were enjoying my typo and had already enjoyed a couple adult beverages.)
I corrected the error, of course, but I'm pretty sure the damage is done.
3) That's it BANK...you've just moved ahead of the pharmacy.
We all know I hate waiting in line if a roller coaster isn't at the end. Well yesterday I had to go to the bank to get all Hubby's coins turned into money we can actually carry around. I went at 2:30 on a Thursday, not exactly a super busy time at the bank. And indeed, even though I allowed the Buddhist monk to go into the building ahead of me (you know, manners and Karma and what not) I was confident that since there were two other tellers both of whom seemed to be finishing up with customers I would be in and out quickly.
Teller one seemed to be deep in conversation of a personal manner with the customer. And by deep in conversation what I really mean is that he looked my way, saw the tub of coins, and decided the 90 year old woman was way more interesting. Teller two saw me and decided the guy cashing his paycheck was going to get his money back in a combination of singles and foreign currency because she took her sweet time with that simple transaction. And the woman handling the Buddhist monk, well, you know, I'm not rushing that.
Meanwhile through out the bank there were other people. Other bank people who saw me standing there, looked at the tellers and then went on with their social conversations with each other. How can I be sure? I've been banking there for almost 30 years. I know the "I'm not touching that pile of coins" looks.
TWENTY MINUTES. That's what it took to get in and out of the bank when I was the only one in line and two of the three tellers were finishing up with customers when I got there.
Maybe next time I butt in line in front of the monk.
2) You said it, now I HAVE to put it in the blog!
Hubby and I have been suffering from some sort of endless cold cycle the last few months and last week it was Hubby's turn again to be congested and not feeling good. We were at a store doing some errands and he just looked like he felt terrible. I wanted to be a good wife. Hey, it happens once in a while...
So I suggested we go home, I would tuck him into his favorite chair with a blanket, I'd make some soup and he could watch football.
He smiled. He said, "I just have a cold...I don't...oh I can't say it."
"You don't what?"
"No if I say it." says he, "You'll put it in the blog."
"Well now you must say it!"
He shrugs. "Fine. "I just have a cold. I don't have cramps."
Oh dude....this is so going in the blog!
1 The Big Whoo Hoo!
I'll just put this here:
Yes, my beloved Elsie series was picked up by a publisher and next week, the 20th and 21st, I'll be doing a book launch event for the first book, "Not While I'm Chewing!" (Doesn't my author pic look fun?)
Can't make it? That's okay, you can still get a copy! On AMAZON
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