My Real Life

January 31, 2010

Real Help

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:10 pm
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Previously, I have shared with you my distaste for the chore of laundry.

I despise it.

I’ve created some routines to help me manage it and not move us all to a nudist colony, but it is still on the bottom of my chore list.

Today, however, my boys offered to help.

To lighten my load.

To ease my burden.

I hugged them and kissed them and thanked them profusely for wanting to help Mommy.

The each brought in a laundry basket and proceeded to help.

…or make boats out of laundry baskets and pillows.

“Help” is such a relative term.  Don’t you think?

January 30, 2010

Been Gone So Long

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 4:51 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Okay, technically, I was only away for one night, but I didn’t have internet access in my hotel room, and then I was pretty exhausted the night I got back, and so although it’s only been a few days, I feel like I’ve been gone from the blog for a month!

I returned, yesterday, from a trip to Atlantic City, where I was asked to present at the New Jersey Association of School Administrators Techspo 2010 Conference.  It is a fabulous conference that centers on educational technology, which is kinda my thang.  Love it!

So, I was asked to share my presentation called Social Studies 2.0:  How to Effectively Integrate Technology into Your Social Studies Classroom Without Having to be a Guru.  Long title, but it helps to be specific.  I presented a few years ago, but haven’t been able to make it back until this year, so I was thrilled to be invited, once again.

I left home around 6 am on Thursday morning and arrived in Atlantic City around 8:15 am.  I checked-in with conference registration (hotel check-in wasn’t until 4 pm) and then had a bite to eat from the conference buffet.

The first speaker was Alan November, one of the biggest leaders in the educational technology movement today.  I’ve heard him speak 3 times already, so although he is always a delight to hear, I had heard the schtick before.  Nothing really new, except for an online solution finder WolframAlpha.com.  Basically, you type in any equation and it solves it for you, and shows you the steps.  An absolute dream, I think!  Kids can check their own homework online and work through the problems on their own.  Love it.

Then, I went to another presentation on the use of Moodle in schools, and while my district is already using Moodle, there were some neat additions that I hadn’t heard about, so it was informative.

After that, I grabbed the box lunch that was offered to participants, and then went to set up my laptop and projector.

As I’m putting everything together, I realize that I don’t seem to have the power cord for the laptop.

Panic sets in.

The people who had presented in that room before me were still packing up, so I asked them to watch my stuff while I ran to the car.  They said, “No problem.”

So, I ran to the elevators (we were on the 6th floor) and took the elevator to the 3rd floor, where I had to cross the hotel to catch the elevator to the 8th floor of the parking garage.  Follow that?

I opened up the van and…

…no cord.

No cord!

My laptop had been in hibernation mode in the car, so there were no batteries for it to run from.

I walked (not ran) back to the presentation room and thanked the people for waiting.  I stood with my hands on my hips (my thinking pose) and tried to figure out what the heck I was going to do.

Then, I said to myself, “Amy…you dunce!  This is the TECHSPO conference!  Every vendor out there is hawking some type of educational technology, and they ALL have laptops!” 

So, I went out to find a vendor that was selling a type of laptop that I thought I’d be comfortable with, and offered the guy a deal.

If he lent me his laptop for my presentation, I would name drop his company name throughout my presentation, and even add a slide in my PowerPoint thanking them for helping me out.

He agreed and my problem was solved.

Wait.

Hang on.

Rewind.

I opened up the van and…

…the cord was there!

The rest was just one of the thousands of stories I made up in the elevator on the way to get the cord.  I’m a huge “What if” story-teller, and every time I’m faced with a possible crisis, I imagine a gazillion different scenarios.

Thought you might enjoy that one.

I did.

Anyway, I got the cord, went back and thanked the people who watched my “stuff” and got everything set up.

Cute little room in the Atlantic City Bally’s.

I also love the little digital sign outside of each presentation room.  My flash mucked up the picture a bit, but I figured I’d still share.

I was in the Lincoln Park room.  Not the Link’n Park room…that would be quite a different room.  Not a bad room, just a different room.

The presentation went great.  My audience seemed quite receptive.  Lots of head nods and smiled as I spoke.  One man came to ask some questions afterward, and another asked for extra copies of my handouts to share with his colleagues.  It went well, but I was glad to be done.

After packing up my equipment, I went to another workshop that was informative, and by then, it was 3:30.

So, I went through the cross-hotel elevator trek again, got my suitcase out of the van and checked in.

Ahhhh…

All mine.  No chance of little monkeys crawling in at 4 am and waking me.  King-sized nirvana.

It was about 4 pm, so I kicked off my shoes and turned on the tv, thinking I’d watch Oprah, who I haven’t seen in years.

Turns out, she was interviewing Jay Leno who was, in my opinion, acting like a bit of a jerk, so I decided to check out the bathroom and perhaps take a bath.

I’m sure my neighbors were concerned about my squeals of delight as I flipped the switch in the bathroom.

I don’t get out much.

This was all very exciting.

My favorite part?

…because you never know when you might need to make an important call from the toilet.

So, I decided to haul out my book and soak in the tub and read for a while.

I realize this may sound mundane to many, but you need to remember that I can’t even remember the last time I had a shower without someone sitting on the floor outside the tub, “keeping me company.”  It’s usually Monkey in the Middle, because he’s the only one up when I’m getting ready for work.  Heck, half the time he’s the reason I’m up, and I let him come in so he doesn’t wake up anyone else.  He sits outside the shower and just chats away, on his side of the curtain, about whatever is taking over his five-year old mind at the moment.

So, the idea of a bath?  Wonderful.  Reading while in the tub?  Delightful!  Doing so without feeling guilty because someone is on the other side of the door needing something?  Positively unheard of!

I soaked and read until the water got cold, then I hopped out, donned my sweats and headed back to the room.

I realized that I hadn’t opened the curtain yet, so I decided to check out the view.

Not really the most beautiful scene in the world, but it took my breath away, as I don’t get a lot of ocean view from my part of New Jersey.

Looking down, I saw this view, as well…

So, I chose to look up, instead.

At this point, I realized I could either go downstairs and grab something from one of the hotel restaurants, grab something to eat from gift shop, or order room service.

I looked at my sweats and decided room service it was.

Yes, that’s right.  I wouldn’t pay $12.99 for internet service in my room, but I did order room service.

I deserve it.

So, I ordered soup, salad and a cheesecake.

I ate the soup and salad, and had about half of the cheesecake.

I snuggled up under the covers and watched “You’ve Got Mail”, then a repeat of “Two and a Half Men,” a repeat of “Family Guy.”  I called the monkeys to say goodnight, watched “The Vampire Diaries,” then chatted with Real Man when he called after putting the monkeys to bed.  Finally, I turned on “Fringe,” and was out by 9:30.

I’m so wild.

The next morning, I woke up at 5:45, but when I realized that Monkey in the Middle wasn’t there sniffing me, I went back to sleep until 8:00.

I took my shower, packed my bags, and took everything to the van.

I headed back to the conference where I grabbed some breakfast, and then listened to Gary Stager, the Friday morning keynote speaker.  After he finished, I stayed for his informal chat workshop, and was really impressed.  He’s a total no-nonsense kind of guy and I really appreciate that in a speaker.  Particularly when the topic is education.  New Jersey is headed for tough times with our new Non-Public Education Friendly governor.  Forget getting kids engaged and involved in their learning.  Let’s just test them to death.  Ick.

Sorry…didn’t mean to get political.

Yes, yes I did.

Anyway, after that was over, I looked through the brochure and saw that the remaining workshops didn’t really apply to myself or to my district, so I checked out.

Let’s flashback for a moment to Techspo 2008.

I had only been to Atlantic City once before and am not a gambler, by any stretch of the imagination.

However, I figured that I couldn’t be in AC and not try my hand at a little gambling.

So, I walked over to a $5 slot machine, stuck in a $5 bill and won $500. 

Yes, that’s right.  My first $5 ever and I won $500.

Never happened  before and will never happen again.

I don’t win stuff.

That’s just not my general luck.

I pulled out my tickets, jumped around like a loon, all by myself in the casino at 10:30 am, cashed it in and got the heck outta there before I could gamble it away.

So, this time, I knew I had to at least try.

The odds were against me, but to not try would be admitting defeat without even giving it a chance.

After checking out, I went to the same casino room, found the same $5 slot machine, put in my $5 bill and…

…no, I didn’t win $500.

But, I did win $55!

So, again, I cashed out and practically ran to the van, with the slots calling my name, daring me to win bigger.

Now, I’m home, $55 richer, and oh so happy to be woken up at 4 am by both Monkey in the Middle and Baby Monkey who needed to be as close to me as possible. 

I had an incredibly relaxing night away, but I miss Real Man and the monkeys when I’m not with them.

Away is fun.

Home is always better.

Oh, and if you’d like to view my presentation, here it is:

Presentation

January 29, 2010

And the winner is…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 3:54 pm

True Random Number Generator Min: Max:

Result: 4

Powered by RANDOM.ORG

Comment #4 submitted by Alicia!

Your gift card will be coming soon.

And as for those of you who didn’t participate?  I don’t believe you’ve never gotten the lyrics of a song wrong! 

So there!

January 25, 2010

Wrong Lyrics Contest

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:53 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

So, as the musical director of our spring musical, I memorize all the songs in the show each year, so that on the performance nights, I can sit in the pit and mouth the words to any middle school performer who may have forgotten the words to their song.

This year, we have 25 songs in the play, however, they are all 80’s songs, so it is the easiest I’ve ever had it!

I grew up in the 80’s!

I know every single 80’s song!

I know every word to every single 80’s song!

Right?

Ummm…not so much with the whole every word thing.

As I read the music and teach the songs to the kids, it turns out that I was quite creative with my lyrics in the 80’s. 

In more than half of the songs we are singing, I’ve found myself saying, “Wait?  Those are the words???”

Believe me when I tell you that this comes as no surprise to my childhood friends.  I guarantee they are reading this shaking their heads saying, “Yep…she sang at the top of her lungs, but always the wrong words.”

Who knew?

Some of it is pretty tame.

For example, in “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” I always thought the words were, “When in the world can they have fun?  Oh, when in the world can they have fun, oh girls…Girls just wanna have fun!”

It seems as though the actual lyrics are “When the working day is done, oh, when the working day is done, oh girls…Girls just wanna have fun!”

Not too terribly wrong.

Yet, still wrong.

Or, let’s examine “Footloose.”

I always thought that it was “Jack, get back, come on the four way crack.  Loose, you’re loose. Everybody cut footloose.”

Apparently Kenny Loggins thought this sounded better:

“Jack, get back, come on before we crack.  Lose your blues, everybody cut footloose.”

Oh, and this part (which I thought was) “Somebody to tell you, that life ain’t passing you by, I’m trying to tell you, in the middle of a whittle don’t really cry,” really goes like this, “Somebody to tell you, that life ain’t passing you by, I’m trying to tell you, it will if you don’t even try.”

Whatever. 

If you like lyrics that make sense, I guess his version is okay.

We aren’t singing “Flashdance” in the show, but that’s another example, albeit a bit dirty, considering that I thought the line “Take your passion and make it happen” was “Take your pants down and make it happen.”  I could never believe they played that on the radio, although today, it probably wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow.

Ooh, ooh…or how about Manfred Mann’s “Blinded by the Light?” (Granted…it’s from 1977 when I was 5, but let’s consider it anyway.)  Even though I know the words, I still believe that “Wrapped up like a deuce, another runner in the night” is about a feminine hygiene product being rolled into the night and you can’t convince me otherwise.

I simply cannot be the only person who has gotten this many lyrics wrong.

So, our next contest is this:

Leave a comment below with a song to which you always sang/sing the wrong lyrics.

(I say “sing” in the present tense, because given the percentage of lyrics I had wrong in the 80’s, I’m predicting a high percentage of wrong lyrics coming out of my mouth in the 90’s and into the present.)

Winner will be chosen at random, however, I’m hoping for some really funny stuff, because I could use some laughs!

The prize for winning the contest will be a $10 gift card to Old Navy.

Contest will run through Wednesday night, January 27th, 8 pm.

So, tell your friends, and share your lyrical shame!

January 24, 2010

Mama’s Boy

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:48 pm
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Back in October, I made this post, about my girl.

While I still stand by my feelings in that post, I need to chat a little today about Monkey in the Middle.

The biggest Mama’s boy known to man.

Let me just say that I have done nothing to turn this kid into a Mama’s boy. 

I’m not overprotective by any stretch of the imagination.  I encourage my monkeys to take risks and to be independent.

However, this guy…

…has this intense, inate desire to be near me every second of the day.

It’s funny.

As symbiotic and in-tune as Monkey Girl and I are, we are also able to be independent of each other.

Baby Monkey, although he is my little, precious linebacker baby, and I’d love to hold him every second of the day, is the most indpendent of the kids.  He loves me, no doubt, but he’s perfectly happy off on his own, and can be alone for hours before even thinking,”Huh…I wonder if Mom and Dad are still around.”

Unless he’s at a birthday party. 

But that’s another post for another day.

It’s a different story with Monkey in the Middle.

It doesn’t matter how much fun he is having, Monkey in the Middle comes to find me, approximately every thirty minutes.

Once he finds me, he walks over, gives me a big hug, snuggles in, sniffs my arm (not sure what that’s about, but he’s always sniffed my arm), and goes back to his business.

Just making sure I’m there.

Just getting his hug.

Just letting me know he was thinking about me.

When I put him to bed at night, we snuggle up for a few minutes, chatting about our day, and before I leave, he’ll always whisper “Mommy…you’re my best friend.”

He makes my heart ache.

Today, he went to a rock climbing birthday party.

I went with him.

He was terrified, but decided to give it a try anyway. 

I stood with the parents and watched as he made his way closer to the rock wall. 

Every few steps, he’d look over and I’d give him a smile and a thumbs up.

Then, it was his turn.

He didn’t make it more than a few feet off the ground, but when he got down, he looked around, found me, and I just smiled and mouthed “Great job!”

That’s all he needed.

To know that I was there, and to know that I was proud of him, even if he wasn’t climbing to the top and ringing the bell.

He tried again, and got a little higher, but then decided to just try the low walls that didn’t require ropes.

Climb, climb, climb…check in with Mom for a snuggle.  Climb, climb, climb…check in with Mom for a snuggle.

I will continue to encourage his independence, and am incredibly hopeful that he doesn’t grow into the type of Mama’s boy that is still living with us at age 38 because no girl can measure up to his Mom.

Okay, maybe that wouldn’t be too bad.

But, tomorrow morning, around 4:00 am, when Monkey in the Middle creeps into our room and climbs into our bed for a snuggle and an arm sniff, I’m going to wrap him up tight and tell that Mama’s boy that his Mommy loves him.

January 23, 2010

Saturday Smiles

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 10:21 pm
Tags: , , ,

Today was a good day.

A fun day.

A long day.

Yet, a good day.

I started out by teaching piano lessons.  I enjoy teaching piano a great deal.

The kids are great, the music is great…it’s just a really good thing in my life.

Then, I headed to school for our full-day play rehearsal.  Our show is in the beginning of March, and today was our full-day rehearsal.

This show, in particular, is tons of work for me, as there are 25 songs in it. 

The good news?  The show is called “Back to the 80’s” and every song is from the 80’s.

My decade.

My music.

I’m loving play practice.

Real Man had to go somewhere, so about halfway through, he dropped the kids off, and so they got to see the rehearsal.

They loved it, although, I think their favorite part was the snack bar.

After play rehearsal, we came home and the monkeys played outside for a few hours, and then when it started to get dark, came inside and turned the basement into an apartment with a table on the “deck.”

Only Monkey Girl managed to poke her head out for the picture.  The boys were too busy hysterically giggling.

When Real Man got home, he brought his Dad and we all had dinner (on the good china) and had a great time together.

Then, the monkeys went back to the basement and started checking out what they could watch On Demand, and I made them popcorn.

(Note…the empty cups laying on their side on the table are from the “deck” on their apartment.  Don’t want you thinking I leave dirty cups all over the house.  Not today, at least.)

Real Man went to hockey, and the monkeys are now in the basement, still on the couch, entwined with each other and watching Phineas and Ferb.  It will be bedtime in a few minutes, and they are having a sleepover in Monkey Girl’s room tonight. 

They can’t wait.

It’s a big deal.

Despite the fact they do it every Friday and Saturday night.

Love it.

I’m going to cuddle up with Under the Dome by Stephen King, and hope to make a good sized dent, as I feel like I’ve been reading it forever, but only in two minute snippets here and there.  I’m ready to make some progress.

So, long day.

Good day.

Great day.

January 22, 2010

Not So Much of an Emergency at the ER

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 11:12 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

So, I’m at work and I get a call from the school nurse at Monkey Girl’s school.

She took a spill on the playground and cut her knee pretty badly.  It was bleeding quite a bit, and was deep.

Also, the nurse wasn’t sure that she had gotten all of the gravel out.

Ick.

The nurse suggested I take her to the ER.

When I got to the school, Monkey Girl was waiting for me, and I knew, as soon as I looked at her that she was holding in the tears for the public audience.  So, I chatted with the nurse, quickly, signed her out and we left.

Let’s face it…the girl has had a rough couple of days.

First the girls on the bus.  Then, she finds out that Monkey in the Middle lost a charm I had given her (why she gave it to him, I’m not sure).  She woke up late this morning and had to change her shirt because Monkey in the Middle gave her a big snuggly hug and got snot on her sleeve and it wouldn’t come out.  And, when she fell, she got mud all over her fake pink Uggs from Target…her favorite shoes.

She deserved to let loose with a few tears.

No sooner were we in the hallway than the tears started.

I asked if it hurt, and she said “a little,” but that she was crying because she was nervous they were going to give her stitches.

Poor pumpkin cried all the way to the hospital.  We held hands (a little awkward since she sits in the backseat, but it’s what you do when your baby is crying) and got there eventually.

They checked us in, gave us a room, and we waited.

The doctor came in, checked the wound, poked around a bit, declared it gravel-free and not stitch worthy, gave us a few packets of Bacitracin and stuck on a big bandage, and we were good to go.

Once she realized there would be no shots or needles, Monkey Girl was all about the smiles.

We were discharged, picked up the boys, and went to ShopRite to do the shopping for next week.

I won’t say the kids took advantage of the fact that I was exhausted, physically and emotionally but we left ShopRite with 3 boxes of PopTarts, 2 packages of ShopRite bakery cookies, a bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, and a box of Entenmann’s doughnuts. (See my Grocery Goal page, for the full report on today’s trip to ShopRite).

Gotta tell you…if I have to go to the ER, this is the type of trip I’d prefer to have. 

No pain, no trauma, no real injury or illness.

As for Monkey Girl…she seems to have forgotten all about it.

Ah…youth.

January 21, 2010

How Does This Happen?

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 7:29 pm
Tags: ,

I’m furious.

Furious.

Monkey Girl just came down, closed my bedroom door, and asked if we could talk in private.

After the whole Santa debacle, I felt more than a little apprehensive, but I said, “Of course,” and in she came.

“Do you like me, just the way I am?” she began.

“What?  Of course I do,” I responded.  “Why do you ask?”

Then, she proceeded to tell me the story of two girls at school, today, who told her she needed a makeover.  They told her they thought she could be pretty if she got some makeup.  Then, one of them told her that she was going to need to get rid of the glasses and get some contact lenses.

WHAT?!?!?!?!?

I asked her what she thought and she said, “Well, I think I’m pretty cute.”

I said, “I think you are pretty cute, too!”

We talked about how if they bring it up again, she can just say, “No thanks…I’m happy with myself the way I am.”

Unfortunately, this is not the first time this has happened.

When Monkey Girl was (brace yourself) five, a girl in her Pre-K class told her she wasn’t “stylish.”

A five-year old, not stylish?

So, my question is, how does this happen?

How do five-year olds critique someone’s style, and where do eight-year olds get the vocabulary (and the utter gall) to recommend a makeover to another?

I don’t buy the media argument. 

Yes, kids are exposed to more than I was exposed to as a kid, but I don’t believe that, in and of itself, is responsible.

Is it the parents?  Are the parents nitpicking and critiquing others in front of their kids, or worse, telling their own children they need to be prettier, more stylish, smarter, better?

I hope not.

Awful.

Makes my stomach churn.

I don’t know where it comes from, and I know it’s not all kids. 

And, let’s face it…there were nasty kids when we were kids.  I’m not just talking the outright bullies.  I’m talking about the sneaky bullies.  Ladies, you know who I’m talking about, because they were always girls.  Girls can be so much crueler than boys.  I remember, as a kid thinking, “I wish she’d rather just punch me and get it over with, rather than keep at me this way.”

What I choose to take away from this isn’t the anger, but the pride in my Monkey Girl that she is confident enough in herself to say, “I think I’m pretty cute,” in the face of these words from her peers.  That’s hard to do, and I’m so proud of her for being able to not bend to the pressure.

I can’t protect them forever, I know.

But, wow…do I wish I could.

January 20, 2010

The Good China

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:30 pm
Tags: , ,

So, you’ll have to forgive me another non-monkey related post, but today, this is what’s on my mind.

At The Frugal Village, there is currently a conversation going on in one of the forums, surrounding whether or not people have “good dishes,” and if so, do they use it?

So, I responded, early in the thread that yes, we have good dishes.

When Real Man and I got engaged, we toyed with not registering for china and crystal.  We didn’t feel like china/crystal people, and so we weren’t going to register for those items.

My mother immediately went into palpitations and said that we HAD to register for fine china and crystal.  It was what people do.  It certainly was what people did when she was getting married…that much I cannot argue.  However, I really didn’t want to do it.  Never one to do what others do just because others are doing it, I really, really didn’t want to do it.

My mom won.

So, Real Man and I registered for, and then received a ridiculous amount of place settings in Lenox china, Waterford crystal, and Sterling silver.

We bought a beautiful china cabinet, and there they sit.

Day in and day out, for the past eleven years.

An interesting thing happened, though, as I started reading the responses of others in the good china thread.

Many people didn’t have the good stuff.

Those that did?

They use it.  Every day.

Someone said, “Why save it for a special occasion?  Every day I spend with my family is special!”

Someone else said, “I have great memories of that china as a child…I want my kids to have the same memories.”

Another poster wrote, “Yep.  We have it and we use it.  Sure, we’ve chipped a few, and broken more, but you know what?  It’s just a dish.”

So…

***Mom…at this point, if you read this, I beg you to turn off the computer and walk away.  The rest of this post is not going to sit well with you***

…I started thinking…”Yeah!  They’re right!  We should use those dishes!”

If I don’t use them, they’ll sit in that china cabinet, and then I’ll die and the monkeys will fight over who doesn’t have to take them, and in the end, they’ll sell them at some fine china consignment shop.

Or…

…we start using them…often.  Build some memories on the good plates, and then let the monkeys build their own when I’m gone.

Because, let’s face it…the good china is supposed to be used for the good times with special people.

Around here…

…that’s every day.

January 18, 2010

“Spaghetti in the Microwave” and Other Family Phrases

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 11:30 am
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Do you have any special phrases that your family uses that sound like one thing, but have a completely hidden meaning, only understood by your family?

We have a few.

“Spaghetti in the microwave” is one of them.

Years ago, when Real Man and I were dating, we were at my parents house for dinner. 

My Mom made her famous spaghetti and meatballs, and we were chowing down.

Literally.

It was not pretty.

The bowl on the table that held the spaghetti was just about empty, and so, I stood, refilled it with spaghetti from the colander in the sink, walked over to the microwave, opened the door, and was actually setting the bowl in the microwave as my mom calls from the table (as she’s watching me),

“Honey…can you put that spaghetti in the microwave?”

I stopped, bowl in midair, and slowly turned around with enormous eyes.

Real Man was looking at me with that, “Oh no…she’s gonna blow!” look, and my Mom and Dad just continued to eat their dinners, oblivious to the eruption that was in danger of occurring.

I don’t like to be reminded to do common sense things. 

However, to be reminded of those things when I’m already doing them???

Not good.

So, “Spaghetti in the microwave” is a phrase we use in our house when one of us asks the other to do something that they are about to do, or are in the midst of doing.

I’m sure it sounds strange when we are in mixed company and one of us says, “Sweetie, could you please get me another piece of pizza?” and the other stands, with pizza slice in hand and says “Spaghetti in the microwave.”

For those of you who watch “The Office,” it’s a bit like our own “That’s what she said,” although we use that one, as well.

This morning, it was Monkey Girl who used the phrase.  It has become such a part of our vocabulary, that her sentence was, “Mom, this may be spaghetti in the microwave, but can I have the pink cup?”

Family phrases, once they sneak in, they never leave.

Another of our oft used family phrases is “Centrum in the toilet.”

When Real Man and I were dating, Real Man came to see me at the house that I rented.  He was quite sick, but as he is a “Real Man,” he doesn’t do doctors.

So, he was at my place, hacking and coughing and looking sicker than a dog, and I said, “Why won’t you just go to the doctor?” to which he responded, “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

I, the girl with the lightning fast temper, went from 0 to 60 in less than a second and said, “Fine!!!  If you won’t take care of yourself, then I won’t take care of myself, either!”

With that, I walked to my dresser, swiped my brand new bottle of Centrum from the top, with extreme dramatic flair, and stomped to the bathroom, where I proceeded to unscrew the lid and dump the entire contents into the toilet.

As, approximately, the third pill fell into the toilet, I realized what a supreme overreactor I was being, but by that time, it was too late.  You start a dramatic protest, you need to finish the dramatic protest.

So, I shook them all out, shaking extra hard so he could hear them plopping into the water, then flushed with flourish.

By the time I got back to my room, his head was down, but his shoulders were shaking and I knew he was laughing.

And by then…I was laughing, too.

What a dope.

So, when one of us makes some dramatic gesture that is ultimately ridiculous, the other just calls out “Centrum in the toilet,” and we are reminded to take a chill.

These days, it’s usually our resident drama queen, Monkey Girl, who has the Centrum in the toilet moments.  But, it’s still good for a reminder.

So, what about you?

Any family phrases that wouldn’t make any sense to an outsider, but tell a story for your family?

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