Foot In Mouth Hall of Fame

Recently, a co-worker was putting together a directory of our department, and we were supposed to give one word to describe ourselves. I’m always tempted in these situations to give a word that makes people think, like “Wizard” or “Badmintonress”, but I like my job so I refrain. I gave her the word “Unfiltered,” and then realized how very unfiltered that is, so I asked my boss what word I should use. He said “Team-Builder,” which is actually more like two words saved by the hyphen, so I told him his word should be “Rule-Breaker.” Which was a little unfiltered of me.

In another example of unfiltered behavior, we had a couple over last night. They’re the parents of a new good friend of Youngest Daughter, so the girls wanted to keep hanging out and Current Husband had just opened a bottle of white wine, so they parked for a bit. Are you cringing yet? Because I already am.

They are both incredibly lovely people, which means they probably won’t be hanging out with us long. The husband played college basketball for a rival team to mine, so I like to razz him a bit about the rivalry. The NBA Draft was the night before, and I was still worked up about the Iowa State players getting passed over, so while CH and the wife talked about skiing, the husband and I talked basketball.

After about 15 minutes of basketball talk, I said to him, “Have you ever thought about coaching?”

He looked at me for a minute, kind of confused, and said, “Do you mean on the college or professional level?”

I said, “Yeah. I mean anywhere. After you finished college ball.”

He said “Not really, I like what I’m doing now.”

Oh. Okay. That’s neat.

We chatted a bit more and then they gathered up their daughter and they left. As the door shut, Oldest Daughter looked at me, HUGE grin on her face, and said,

“Mom? FYI, he was the boys basketball coach at our school for 12 years and won a state championship. Just so you know for next time you ask him if he’s thought about coaching.”

What. TheHeck. Have I Done?

So I Google him, like any respectable person does in a time of panic.

Oh Holy Shit.

He coached the boys tennis team for four or five years and  won a state title there. Then he coached girls basketball. Then he coached the boys team, won a state title for our school, and then just a few years ago became Activities Director, which is when I started working with him.

So I basically said to a guy who played Big Ten basketball, coached three sports and won two state titles, “Hey Buddy, ever thought about coaching? And by the way, I’m a complete dumbass. For the record.” This is a bit like running into Obama and saying, “Hey, you should think about getting into politics!” but on a more local level. I’m sure he’s incredibly grateful for my career advice.

Seriously. Foot in Mouth Disease. It’s real. I hope it’s curable. Does anyone know where I can buy a filter?




Father’s Day, Stereotyped Through Cards

This morning as I left for work, I realized the kids hadn’t signed the Father’s Day cards yet, so I laid them out on the table. Then I realized I didn’t need to leave a note, because based on the front of the card only, they’d be able to tell which card belongs to which of their three grandfathers.

fathers day

I’ve type-casted the dads.

I don’t make the stereotypes, I just adhere to them.

Hope all of you dads have a great weekend, getting waited on and having people make you meals and treating you like a king.

It’s what the rest of us call “Being a dad every day of the year.”

As a side bit of entertainment, here is a Father’s Day card piece that re-ran on In the Powder Room. It was not written by me.


Go N’Syde Mariah Carey? Hard Pass.

I’ve tried to behave, really I have. But I can’t help myself here.

EARTH TO MARIAH CAREY: We’re sort of over it. Pics of you and your kids? Adorable. Pics of you trying to be a sex kitten? I guess I’m just not buying what you’re selling. But okay, I have some time. I’ll try.


She’s aged well, I’ll give her that. But then she does something like launch her new drink line. It’s called Go N’Syde Butterfly Beverage.

Does she mean “It’s too hot, you’ll get sunburned, go inside” or is she talking about her vagina? I’m going to vote vagina. Where she keeps her butterflies. And while I”m sure Mariah’s vagina is very clean, I’m going to take a hard pass on lapping up some Go N’Syde Butterfly Beverage and stick with my current drink “Get The Fuck Out of my Pants Cabernet.”

Who named this fine beverage? I’m looking at you, Prince.


OD: “Think of other drink names like that.”
ME: “Like what?”
OD: “You know, like Mariah Carey’s drink, Come Inside Me. Or whatever.”
ME: “Dear God. That’s a horrible name for a drink.”

And yet, apparently sold everywhere during Happy Hour.


Happy Hump Day Wifers. I miss you!


Champagne Hair, Malt Liquor Principles

Hey all y’all, I’m still alive, hope you are too.

A couple of things to know -

1. In the words of Alice Cooper, School’s Out for Summer. I thought I was relieved until I wrote out the summer schedule. Oy.

2. I’ve applied for two jobs at my current place of employment. I will take either of them gladly, but the wonderful place where I work (it really is, I’m not being sarcastic for a change) isn’t known for its haste in filling open positions, because they have the luxury of being able to choose from a pool of dozens and dozens of people. So send all your good ju-ju my way, because I really, really want the writer one.

3. I left two pans full of cooked chicken breasts in my oven for about 36 hours before I remembered them. My house smelled vaguely of serial killer when I opened the oven door. (The oven had been turned off. Long story.) The kids still thought they were delicious. (KIDDING.)


Who want some rice with their salmonella? I call this Dahmer Chicken.


4. I became Catholic. (Another long story. Tell you more about that later.)

5. I got my hairs done tonight, which I do every 10-12 weeks, and I spent a butt-ton of money on it. I don’t shower regularly or wear ironed clothes or cover my varicose veins, but if my hair color is good, none of that matters. However, I went straight from the salon to The Son’s basketball game, and found out it cost $3 to get in. I’m notorious for not having cash, so I went to their ATM. There was a $2.50 fee to get money out. I just couldn’t push okay. I thought “Are you effing kidding me? I pay hundreds of dollars for him to play in this AAU league, and now I have to pay $3 for the privilege of seeing him play the game I pay for him to play, and now I have to pay a 10% surcharge on the money I pay to see him play the game for which I pay?”


So I didn’t. I took my fresh, three-figure hair and left because I refused to pay a $2.50 ATM fee. Current Husband was already inside watching the game, so it’s not like The Son didn’t have support, and I was still in work clothes and three-inch heels, so I hobbled right on out of there and went home.

It’s weird, the things one can decide to get principled about.