I’m Scarring TB For Life (Episode # Eleventy-Seven)

Okay, so. Now that TB is firmly in the throes of Teenager-dom, I have begun knocking on his door before entering. Mostly to avoid seeing something that can’t be un-seen and that would probably initially horrify me even though I would make no end of fun of him later for it.


Anyway, this afternoon, I knock on his door and wait for him to let me know I have gained entry. When I walk into his room, instead of remaining seated at his computer desk as is customary, he has leaped from his computer chair and is standing at the door with his guilty face on.  I know it’s his guilty face because neither one of us can lie for shit and we have no kind of poker face.


I told him whatever I needed to tell him, then I almost walked out of his room.   the key word here being almost.


I had to ask about the guilty face.


Me: Why do you look guilty??  Are you looking at porn??


TB: What?!?!  NO..


Me: You know your Dad can check your browser history & shit so if you’re looking at porn or something else we wouldn’t approve of, you’d be better off saying so now.




Me: Then why do you have your guilty face on?? I know it’s your guilty face because I have the same guilty face. What the hell were you doing??  WHERE’S THE POO!?!?! (That’s a HIMYM reference BTW)




Me: I don’t believe you. I can’t prove otherwise, but I KNOW you’re up to something in here…


TB: Whatever…



Later, in a slightly sarcastic/slightly heartfelt attempt at busting him, I burst into his room without first announcing myself.


Me: HA!!!  You weren’t expecting me, WERE YOU!?!?!


TB: What are you DOING!?!?!


Me: Nothing. Here’s your backpack.



I’m keeping my eye on that kid for a few days….


He didn’t have his guilty face on for nothing.

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My Husband, the Asshole

Okay, so. We will be going on a cruise in a few months so TWH is filing out passport forms online. He keeps asking me questions.


Questions like:

What’s your Social Security Number??

How tall do you say you are??

What color do you say your hair is??


The man obviously thinks he’s funny. He’s wrong, of course. But HE’S laughing.


That makes ONE of us.


The WRONG one.


TWH can be such an asshole sometimes.






Oh The Humanity!!

Okay, so. I’ve said before that I live in Tha Redneckhood.  It was never more evident than my trip to the supermarket today. Apparently, going to the supermarket the day before a major holiday ensures a “People of Wal-Mart” type of experience.


There was the fellow walking in the middle of the parking lot proudly displaying his “Summer Teef”, the large and unwashed, the ridiculously thin & reeking of cigarette smoke with multiple children in tow, and the mobility challenged.


We went into the store and bobbed and weaved our way around them all. Occasionally at great peril. We were almost run over multiple times by people wielding shopping carts like weapons and one particularly aggressive handi-cart driver.


We finally made it to the checkout counter. I damn near threw our purchases onto the conveyor belt. TWH shot me a look wondering what in the hell the frozen corn had done to me. I looked at him and said “If I don’t get out of here RIGHT NOW, Imma need JESUS!!”.  I. Was. Done.


We left the store and entered a parking lot shopping cart race (unbeknownst to us) and we LOST.  TWH was getting agitated at this point. We put our purchases in our car and TWH takes our cart, along with several others, back to the store. In a move of sympathy/solidarity with my sweet Hubby, I yelled out “Remember Baby!! SERENITY NOW!!!”.


He just put his head down and kept walking.  Go figure.


The man just doesn’t appreciate my motivational skills.