An April Fool
I tried to come up with a good prank to pull on you all, but to be honest, thunderstorms have kept my baby up three nights in a row and I am just not feeling all that creative. So instead I bring you a little April Fools Day necessary information.
The origins of April Fools Day, according to Wikipedia . Not as interesting as I had hoped, but worth the read.
Today’s post is more of a Link to the site most likely to steal your Tuesday, The Museum of Hoaxes! The Husband and I stayed up way to late last night reading our favorite pranks and hoaxes.
My favorite is :
In 1996 the Taco Bell Corporation announced that it had bought the Liberty Bell and was renaming it the Taco Liberty Bell. Hundreds of outraged citizens called the National Historic Park in Philadelphia where the bell was housed to express their anger. Their nerves were only calmed when Taco Bell revealed, a few hours later, that it was all a practical joke. The best line of the day came when White House press secretary Mike McCurry was asked about the sale. Thinking on his feet, he responded that the Lincoln Memorial had also been sold. It would now be known as the Ford Lincoln Mercury Memorial.
What are your favorite all time hoaxes and pranks? Mom and Dad( you are being paged to tell your favorites because I KNOW you both have some hilarious ones.)
Filed under Boy is my face red, Time Suckers | Comments (5)Overheard in the Huckablazer.
“I got some chips to eat on the way.”
“What are they?”
“Oke-dokeys.”
“What the heck. Oke-dokeys?”
“Wal-Greens brand Cheetos.”
***munching in silence***
“How are they?”
“Eh. They should be called Eh-key-dokeys.”
“Let me try.”
***munching in silence***
“They are nasty! They should be called ugg-key-dokeys.”
“Give one to The Son. He loves processed cheese products”
(From back seat) “Yuck!”
“Make that Yuckey-dokeys.”
**drive in silence**
“Can I have another one?”
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Parenting for Dummies, The Husband, The Son | Comments (4)The Library
As previously referenced HERE, the huckablogs refer to the bathroom as the Library. Well, I do. Particularly, in reference to The Husband. Before you read any further be warned that this post is about mierda, merde, merda, Scheiße, skitit, [شيت], たわごと, 배설물…..poop(if you have a problem with that then you should just go read a Read it or Rant). That is poop in nine different languages. So it appears that the book I just read to The Son is true! Everybody does poop.
We have been trying to potty-train The Son……trying does not necessarily equal doing but ya know…it is a start! Right after he turned one we got one of those little seats that you put on the toilet.
We would sit him up there and he would read his little potty book and laugh. Not Pee or Poop, but laugh. No big deal, he was a baby, we had plenty of time. We dropped it for awhile, and then he would want to “help” The Husband and I go to the bathroom. He will go in with you, watch, point out if you are “peepeepee!!” or “oopoopoop!”. He will hand you some toilet paper (some being the whole roll), flush for you, and help wash your hands (help being getting water everywhere). So obviously the child was ready to start potty training again. So we bought this:
It sings to him, and he loves it. And what do you know!? It works! We can say “Son do you need to go potty?” he will RUN to the bathroom, and sit down and pee every time. If I see him turning red, or feel his tummy start to get hard, I will put him on the potty and he will finish pooping. One issue we have is that it has a little sensor in it and every time something passes the lid it sings, so if The Son sits down kinda hard and “things” swing, he thinks he has done something, and gets confused. However, the biggest problem we have with potty training has more to do with his parents than anything. We have two disagreements.
First: The Husband will not take him to poop with him, because it “interrupts his reading.” I swear to you, my husband does ninety percent of his reading in the bathroom. At any time you can go to our bathroom and be able to tell what The Husband is reading. So now The Son does not want to poop unless I hand him a book! So then he is holding his book instead of his, um, you know, boy parts. And he pees allover the floor. Ack!
Second problem: we can’t agree on words: The Husband swears up and down that he grew up saying “to make bubbles” and “to grunny”. WTH?!! If we teach him that, his teachers are going to have no idea what he is talking about. When The Son was in school his teachers said “tinkle” and “dookie”. Uhhh. No. I am not going to use ANY of those words. Since I am the one with him ninety-nine percent of the time, my words win by default. Potty, Pee, Poop.
The End. Feel free to share your potty training stories and advice. Again, no crate training.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Parenting for Dummies, The Husband, The Son | Comments (11)Friday’s Read it or Rant: Fortunate Lives
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Fortunate Lives: A Novel by Robb Forman Dew
Eh. S’okay. I swear y’all, I really do read a lot of books that I LOVE. I just have not reviewed one of them yet. This week’s book, Fortunate Lives: A Novel was not really one that I even liked. Potential? Really it had tremendous potential. It just did not quite get there. Parts of the book were really even good, just not, you know, the whole thing. The Brother gave this one to me (actually I took it out of a stack he was going to sell).
Okay, the basic gist of the plot (hey– that could be the problem!) is a family that has plenty of money, plenty of friends, throws great parties, and has the respect of the community. The Husband and Wife love each other and are faithful. The kids are brilliant (like Harvard brilliant), not into drugs or anything, and are reasonably well behaved. They had a son who was killed many years ago, and on the surface everyone has dealt with it, key word: SURFACE. So these two people that do not fit into their perfect little lives show up, unannounced, and unwanted. A single mom (whom I hated, but was hands down the most interesting character) Netta, and her daughter Anna Tyson. They are odd. And Netta is nuts. So Netta and Anna Tyson each affect every member of the family differently and you think that this whole perfect family is going to collapse…..but then they don’t. Everything is fine. Did I mention the lack of plot yet?
I really enjoyed the technical aspect of this book, it was very gracefully written. The language was exquisite, and I really dug the sort of ethereal feel to the writing of the family , and then the switch to a more crass style when talking about Netta. Honestly, there were pages at a time were it felt more like I was reading poetry instead of a novel (which we know it is since it is so cleverly in the title and all ). The characters were so dimensional, and each person in the book could have had a novel written about them alone, if only they had, whats that thing called again? Um, you know, where the story is about something? Oh yeah! A PLOT.
To sum up. If your literary snob brother is selling a book, there is a good reason why. If you see Fortunate Lives: A Novel at the library, and your toddler is running around like crazy and your arms are already full of Dr. Seuss, and you just need something to read, then by all means, pick this up. But, don’t spend your money on it. Unless you have lots of money to waste on stuff, in which case, can I have some?
Next up: a book that should be funny! If you have suggestions of books for me to read, email me, heyyou@thehuckablog.com. Also, if you have read this book, PLUEASSE put your own review in the comments section.
Filed under Read it or Rant | Comments (2)Carnage and Katydid
This morning there was a murder at thehuckablog.
The Dog decided that this house was too small for this innocent stuffed dog and her. The Son walked into his room this morning and shouted “OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!” Poor dog. He never stood a chance.
Who do you think was the sicko who decided to stuff the kids toy with red fluff?
I wish that I could say that this was an isolated incident, that The Dog has never ripped up, chewed up, torn, or ruined anything before. That, alas, would be a lie. She is a huge pain in the ass. Ooops! I told my mom I would keep unladylike speech on my blog to a minimum. She is a huge ……pain in the ass. (The DOG, not The MOM) , sorry there is no other verbage better suited.
Her name is Katydid, or Katydidit, or Kate, or that DAMN DOG! depending on your mood. She will be six in Septemberish. She is part, um, she is a little, um……huh. Well it turns out we have no idea what kind of dog she is because she was a stray. The Husband and I got/found her during our engagement, right after my Pa (maternal grandfather) died. I was sad. She was cute, and cuddly, and her silky fur was perfect for crying into. The Husband taught her how to bark and we thought it was the cutest thing we ever saw. We taught her to sit, and be a ballerina, and she is of course one of the potty trained members of our family, (Sorry Son!) but that is as far as we got in the whole obedience training thing. We just laughed at everything she did as a pup, and let her do whatever she wanted because she was just sooooo cute!! You could just squeeze her and hug her till her precious little eyes bugged out. It turns out that her whining, and begging, and shredding, and destroying are not nearly as cute as they once were.
Katydid as puppy.
Katydid as our flowerdog at our wedding.
Katydid last summer with The Son.
The worst thing she ever destroyed was my Sister-In-law’s wedding veil. The BIL and SIL were staying with us for a couple of weeks, after their wedding, but before their honeymoon. The door to the guest room got left open and the veil was mangled. Yikes! Actually, SIL handled it very graciously, and forgave us….maybe not Katy, but really who could blame her.
This is the veil. And, yes, I am related to these model gorgeous people. (Happy Birthday BIL!)
We have talked about maaaaybee someday getting another dog, and trying to raise it better. Eeehhh….Maybe not. We will just live with our mistakes and try to do a better job with The Son. We are thinking that crate training may not be the best way to go.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Family-blame the DNA | Comments (17)Those were the days…..
This conversation showed me that some pictures from the eighties were necessary!
This first picture is my all time favorite dress from childhood. This was taken at my kindergarten graduation and the outfit my dad is wearing is the ONLY thing I remember him wearing until I was about twelve. (sometimes his swim trunks at the lake, but really, that is it!)
This is Hey You and Chester. He was old in this picture, but lived until I was seven. This dress rules; I would wear it now.
This is The Husband in his Humpty Dumpty Costume that was referenced here. He still gets that look when he does not want to do something.
Here is The Husband a little over a year old.
See a resemblance to anyone we know?
How about here?
Email me your pictures of you in your favorite/most embarrassing outfits and I WILL POST THEM!
heyyou@thehuckablog.com or my yahoo account for those of you that have it.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Family-blame the DNA, Photography | Comments (7)Friday’s Read it or Rant: an intro
A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah
Welcome to the first installment of the Friday’s Read it or Rant. Looking for a nice light-hearted read? Perhaps something to read before bed? Something to inspire you? Make you feel anything other than depressed and kinda bored? Then A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, by Ishmael Beah, is not the book for you.
The Husband picked this one up after reading a review in The Heifer newsletter, and thought it would be educational and inspiring. He read it first and said, “Make sure you take your Happy drugs before reading it.” This is basically the autobiography of a 12 year old, Sierra Leonean (Leonesse? Leionoite?) kid who wants to be the first famous rapper from his country. He and his other wannabe friends walk to a village twenty miles away to perform in a talent show. While they are gone, his village is attacked by rebels (the RUF, the Revolutionary United Front) and his family is missing. The next hundred or so pages are him hiding from rebels and the state soldiers. He is hungry. He is scared. He is lonely. He meets other hungry, scared, and lonely teenage boys. At some point they are overtaken by the state soldiers and given the choice to fight or die. They chose fight. They are all pumped full of narcotics and shown violent movies (I hear a good argument against violent movies and video games!). They are given guns bigger than they are and told to kill as many people as possible, women and children included. Eventually they are pretty much kidnapped by UNICEF and put in a rehab facility with other RUF boy soldiers. They, of course, all try to kill each other; the UN is confused about what they did wrong. They get rehabbed, kid goes to NYC, makes speeches, gets adopted, writes book.
So you would think that this would be an exciting book right? A tear jerker maybe? But no, it is BORING! And poorly written. It could be educational if someone was unaware of the epidemic of child soldiers in many African conflicts, or of the continued slaughter of innocents in civil wars around the globe, or the fact that this happened during the nineties, not decades ago…..the thing is….I already knew all of that, and the book was just not very interesting. Seriously… mad props to the kid. It is astonishing that he made it out alive, and I am sure he has a very bright future ahead of him as a diplomat or teacher, but not a writer. To sum up. Spend your $22.95 on a donation to UNICEF, Heifer, or Doctors without Borders, and read texts about world conflict, not A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah.
Filed under Read it or Rant, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (10)