Fly on the wall-
This is an American phrase that originated there in the 1920s. The first citation of it that I can find is from The Oakland Tribune, February 1921: I’d just love to be a fly on the wall when the Right Man comes along.”
Have you ever thought about what people might think if they saw what goes on behind-the-scenes at your house? Do you ever wonder what it would be like to catch a glimpse of someone else’s daily life? Here’s your chance. Today 12 bloggers are inviting you into their homes to be a fly on the wall.
The real, the weird, the life as only my circus can live it…
April Fly On The Wall!
Since the Snack That Maimed Easter, Luc has talked non-stop about all the roller coasters at Magic Mountain he wanted to ride. He blamed the whole reason that he didn’t get to ride the big coasters on his sister’s family day catastrophe. The Handsome Prince decided he would take the three kids that missed out back to the park for a Daddy Day. Luc talked a big game all the way to the theme park. They got off the first ride of the day that just so happened to go in one upside down loop. Luc got off the ride and claimed a headache that then prevented him from riding anything faster than the tram for the rest of the day.
I am tempting fate or harvesting another wicked blog post depending how optimistic you’re feeling right now. As you read this I have donned my cape and taken the kids back on this day off of school, to get some rides in before the park is filled with vacationers.
Third time is a charm?
More like fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Screw up a family day for a third time… priceless!
Read my thoughts on renewing our theme park passes again next Spring, HERE.
K had asked for the computer to work on a project.
I cut through the kitchen a few hours later to find K still up and working away at the computer.
I was about to tell her that it was time to call it a night when she started talking to herself out loud.
“Schizophrenia: Do you hear voices in your head?” She says.
A large gulp of ice water shoots violently out my nose and I then coughed enough to alert the neighbors at the end of the street to my peril.
K looks up and laughs at me doubled over with water dripping from my nose.
“What the hell K?” I question when I could compose myself enough.
“I was just testing my paper title out loud. It’s totally a keeper,” She decides.
My family likes to tease each other.
It builds character and what not but when you mess with the hearing impaired, you might be banned from local restaurants.
We go to a popular salad buffet for dinner with all the kids and a few of their friends. All is well until The Handsome Prince notices that it’s so loud in the place that I’m trying to read their lips to keep up with the conversation. He alerts the kids on the down low to start mouthing random words together to see what I would do. Suddenly I couldn’t understand a dang thing. I excused myself to pout as I got dessert. Rarely is my hearing so obviously troubling so I was feeling a bit heavy and like I was boarding the pity party express. I know it’s bad but gosh not this bad. When I returned to the table, I was still lost in this conversation that they seemed to be totally enjoying. I signaled The Prince my sos that usually means he helps loop me in but this time he just kept mouthing one word over and over. I could feel the hot sting of frustrated tears building. The whole family was looking at me like they expected my answer.
I looked directly at The Prince’s lips and said what I thought he was saying rather loudly.
According to the kids I yelled “Boner, what?”
The whole place went silent and all eyes went glued to me.
“Um, yeah… Have a great night everyone!” I bolted for the exit along with the small herd I had entered with laughing.
Once I cried about it… it was kinda funny. Okay, it was a bit mean but well, I can’t hear for squat. I’d have done the same thing. 😉
The Prince promised only to pull that at home from now on, if he must… We shall call it The BonerGate Amendment.
As you all know (or do now) we do not have television by choice.
I’ll give you a second to recover from the shock… deep breaths… it’ll be okay.
Since we no longer watch the news, I’ll often keep My Handsome Prince up to date by filling him in on the bits and pieces he might have missed as I scan various articles, newspapers and reports online.
I was reading about a hair sample found at a crime that was proven to be expensive Brazilian hair from a weave. I asked him if he thought there was anyway of tracking “high end” Brazilian hair all the way through the line back to the purchase as he was brushing his teeth. I know nothing of hair stuff and girlie things like that so I was sort of intrigued by the mystery.
The door flies open and he stands there with the strangest look on his face. “Why are you reading about Brazilian Butt Hair?! Further more, why do you think I know anything about the hair on someones butt? Let alone an entire countries population of butt hair! I’m fairly sure everyone has some degree of butt hair but I’m sure the amount of hair grown on the butt could change with race or geographical location. I’d imagine they would need a lot of butt hair in Alaska to use an outhouse in the winter. I really can’t imagine that Brazilians are prone to excessive amounts of butt hair. It’s too hot there to grow your own jungle out the rear I’d think. What was the question about butt hair again?”
I looked like there was a gas leak by the time he said “butt hair” for the second time.
“No butt hair,” was all I could squeak out between fits.
“See, I told you I didn’t think they had the butt hair you were looking for.”
Who was looking for butt hair? Why does he think I’m running a study on people’s butt hair? Someone will now locate my blog by typing in butt hair.
Now that’s a writer’s ultimate dream.
I’m running out the door to get to a meeting. I do the check through the house to make sure all the animals are good and everything is locked up before hitting the road.
I could smell that a furry friend had been in the litter box so I thought I’d just clean it really quick and be on my way.
Armed with my pink bedazzled poop sifter, I look into the box and find a rubber snake. Cursing the cats for dragging it into the sand, I carefully grab the snakes head and lifted it to toss into the bag for the trash.
The rubber snake had been almost severed by the kitties so when I lifted the front, the rear swung the opposite way catching me off guard and I tried to jerk it into the bag. The bottom portion had a fresh highly medicated liquid like kitten dropping on it, poised ready to attack. The snake’s tail sent poo splattering across the wall down my skirt and between my toes.
What does one do then besides laugh? Well, besides alternated between manic bouts of laughter and crying. Clearly the universe had sent the snake to give me some poo karma.
I cleaned the box, the wall and my toes in record time. Leaped into a pair of pants and winged it towards the door.
Draco stood by the door with cat food all over his cone. I paused debating if I had time… of course I had time to fix my kitty. I went for a paper towel as he slammed his head repeatedly into my leg indicating his undying affection.
I reach down to wipe the food to find that it’s poop!
He’s rubbed most of the poop off his surgery cone and onto my white slacks.
Poo boy cleaned, my pants were changed, I was ready to vomit but still had a chance to make it on time if there was no traffic when my phone beeped an incoming text.
The meeting was cancelled and rescheduled for the following week… thank you messed up airline system for at that moment I was a lady in need of a shower not a commute. Poop between my toes was the price I paid to spend the rest of the day in yoga pants and a tank top. Half win.
Kenzie-ism: “ Sometimes I want to scream PENIS at the top of my lungs! There are so many words that kids are not allowed to say that are just so fitting in that moment of expressing the value of shock or awesomesauce-ness. I get in trouble for saying certain words but never for being anatomically correct so I think penis is just shocking enough without being over the top. I suppose ANUS would be work too but penis is more of a shocker where anus is a butt and everyone has one.”
Valid point… we made a pact to scream penis at the very tippy top of our lungs together the next time we go out to the middle of the desert. Sounded sort of liberating like a Yoko Ono tribal scream with a theme. Not knockin’ it til I try it! Girl could be on to the next best stress reliever! Oh the family memories in the making!
Last but certainly not least is a tale of woe.
As the Daddy Day at the theme park came to a close, my family boarded the tram to get to the car. At the first stop most of the tram stood up and crammed into the isle. A lady lost her balance, her rear brushing against Min’s seated knees and she almost completely sat on K before grabbing the pole and getting off the tram.
The near squishing would have been just fine except for one thing. This woman’s crotch, butt and down the insides of her legs was soaking wet.
I get a phone call from K that went a little something like this:
“MOM! I WAS PEED ON! There was a lady and she fell. Pee Mom PEEEEEEEE!
Min got some on her knee but she sat on me. Stranger Pee call the CDC!!!”
I assured her that it was probably just from a water ride or something before she had The Prince driving her to the nearest emergency room to be decontaminated.
Her lap was still wet when she arrived home 30 minutes later and took the longest shower of her life. I started the washer and retrieved the pants of pee.
I stretch my nose towards the pants and the unmistakable smell of ammonia greets me.
Knock, Knock, Knock…
K, I have some of Dad’s mechanics soap if you want to use it to scrub a few layers of skin off.
The door opens a smidgen, like I was talking to The Onceler from The Lorax and her hand shoots out.
“I was peed on and you know it,” she wails mournfully. “What is the world coming to? Peeing on people in public and no one did a thing. She should be arrested! I’m assaulted! Violation of everything AND my favorite pants!”
I’ve warned my kids about protecting themselves, being safe and stranger danger but who would have ever thought I needed to warn them about random strangers peeing on them.
I’m turning in my cape now, I have failed you kids.
While we seek therapy, be sure to Fly by some amazingly talented bloggers participating in the April Fly On The Wall Challenge today!
http://www.BakingInATornado.com <—— The super talented lady behind this awesome challenge!