Motherscribe

Time for a Free wheelin' Friday. Not to be confused with free willies. I may live in California, but I keep my free willies to myself. BOY on the other hand...well, we're working on his "feeling free in the outdoors" nature. My lovely stepbrother, by marriage, Sir J, just informed me by email this morning that although très quaint, my post on our most recent trip north did not include BOY's sudden need to whip down his trousers and pee in front of all and sundry, during the family photo shoot to celebrate my mother's 70th birthday. [Uh, thanks Sir J, I was trying to forget...] Not to be making any excuses, but BOY did aim for the flower garden, so at least it wasn't on E's remarkably, still white shoes. There's something.

My stepbrother, Sir J, writes:

Thanks for the blog updates from this past weekend! I had a good time reading… I wanted to add the following:

BOY going tinkle outside during the photo shots… it was absolutely priceless, you weren’t there, but it was awesome and something we’ll share with him as he’s older for some great laughs! [Sir J, please take that on as I'm sure BOY will not be speaking to me someday when I venture to bring up said subject of embarassment in front of his future dates.]

But, WAIT!! Sir J continues:

I also enjoyed Big E’s shoes…

those were nice, and new, I have a similar pair! [Uh...Sir J, I wouldn't be braggin' about having OH, SO WHITE shoes like E's. Just sayin...]

*********************

And so on to Free Wheelin' Friday, otherwise known as...

Things you didn't know and NOW wish you still didn't know...about Casa de Motherscribe:

There are fewer evenings of JackO'Clock than one would wish for. Sometimes I just have to drink a stiff cup of tea to power through, as the whiskey makes me sleepy... [Tis' true...I am a lightweight.]

E, myself, BOY and GIRL all tend to be intense. We have to import our humor at times.

I believe dirt is healthy. Dirty hands adds MUCHO flavor to meals. Didn't cha know?

GIRL likes to fold laundry. Yes. She. Does. [Must be that recessive gene.]

BOY looks at the world a little differently than most. It took him a long time to put the "right shoe" on the right foot. He often would have his shoes reversed. They didn't correct him at school. They just wanted him to have his shoes on. I liked that. He rides his Monster, All Terrain Vehicle Trike

with the handlebars backwards. He knows it is backwards. This is the way he prefers to ride it. I shall miss that once the tricycle moves on. [Note the cute little baby bird that tweets dangling from the handlebar. He added this for his "horn."]

I like my husband's ass. Really I do. [I'd put a picture here, but I know where my bread is buttered. And he'd kick my FLAT ass.]

Our cat, Dillon, who will be 16 in August, eats ground turkey meat. I cook it for him every few days. He has had food allergies for years and can no longer tolerate even hypoallergenic cat food. [We found out he had allergies when he continually threw up and then developed sores all over his head. A little clue like THAT.] He prefers to sleep on a black garbage bag [filled with paperwork to be shredded...] in the office.

Even though he has severe pet food allergies, in past years he has been known to wolf down half of a pizza left out overnight ...with no visible signs of allergic response. He also likes popcorn.

Our dog, Soul Man, is 13. He is old and tired. And very fat.

His joints are so tired that he can barely lift himself up and walk around. We are now giving him giant pills of Glucosamine Chondroitin stuffed into meatballs. [Hey, he's old, he deserves a treat or two.] We've only been doing this for about 10 days. We started with pills wrapped in Pastrami. I don't think he likes sushi. If the GC appears to help his joints, I may try it. It's getting harder and harder to lift my ass out of the computer chair.

We have a toilet that keeps running, a broken spring on the kitchen door, walls that have had holes patched, but not repainted. My husband is handy. He beautifies other people's homes. They RAVE about him. They pay him. I may have to pay him. ......................

Fishnets...

or cash?

Fishnets or cash?

I was reading someone's blog the other day. They were taking themselves to task for not being a good house cleaner. They only vacuumed and took a quick mop to the floors once a week. Oh...the SHAME! Can you IMAGINE? Mopping once a FRIGGIN' week?! Honey, my husband would be ORGASMIC if the floors were whisked once a week. Orgasmic I tell you. Over the moon. I have good intentions. Yes, I do. I LOVE clean. I love a neat house. But, vacuuming, scrubbing...just aren't high on my priority list. However, I will say that I have an amazing talent of ...turning into the white tornado.

It's a good thing, because this... awaits my tornadoesque talents.

Oh, and this festival of O's dancing under the table...

And of course the ubiquitous ... laundry ...[this actually looks doable-- not toppling over today.]

OK, let's see how long it takes JCK to white tornado the house? How long..............................??????

mmmmmmmm.........

Let's just check in on poor JCK, who has been forced by blogosphere peer pressure to clean her house. Where the HELL is SHE?....................

Oh, here she is: PUT THE FISHNETS DOWN, JCK!! Your special treat comes later...much later.

She just ADORES her duster. It is SO boa like...................... We're SO glad she maintains the nostril hairs. Skin not bad for 46, no? Screw that dermatologist.

Let's go into the bathroom: My GOD what is that, that stench? Are we in a ZOO? I'm sorry JCK's sensibilities are just too delicate for this task.

Let's move on.................

OH, for the LOVE of GOD, JCK, you are SO fuckin ORAL. Come ON! Get a grip! Pour yourself a whiskey, lady. And the fishnets go on THE LEGS.

............................It has now been....45 minutes. 20 minutes of cleaning and 25 minutes of taking these exquisite photos of a middleaged woman FAUX cleaning. I can hear ~~AARP~~ VICTORIA magazine calling.

But, look....it's done!