Which button, which button?

"I just don't understand. There's a POWER button and an ON/OFF button and I turn it on by pushing the POWER button?"
"No. Mom how many times.....?" Boy #3 is exasperated.
Standing in front of the fairly new TV like I always do with the remote when I try to turn it on, I consult my offspring, the exasperated one.

"You push the ON/OFF button."

"Oh that's right, I always forget. I don't want to push the wrong one because then I really don't know which one of these five smaller ones to push to fix it, you know......" Boy #3 had retreated to his room during my confusion. That's alright, it's not like I don't know where he lives.

Most of the time I just leave the TV on now so I don't have to turn it on, especially if no one's home. That's why I have the memory lapse's.

Boy #1 came over Sunday, out of the corner of my eye I could see him point the remote towards the TV.

"Nooooooo." I dove in front of the TV just like a Secret Service Agent taking a bullet for the President. "Which button did you push?" I looked at the TV and the screen was blank. "Which button, which button?"

"Did you take your little green pill today?"

"I have to get your brother involved now, he's losing his patience with me."

"You don't know how to turn on your own TV?"

I smacked him on top of his head with the remote and called his brother.

"This is...there's got to be....what the hell? Why is this so difficult."

"I'm going to look up how to program it."

"Would you please, this is disconcerting."

"Don't use your big writing class words with me. What does that mean?"

______________________________

I had so much fun in my Writing Class that I'm taking another, starting March 16. I think I've learned a lot, I'll be knocking your socks off very soon.

Who peed in grandma's toilet?

"Did you hear that?"

"Like a beeping?"

"Yeah."

"Probably Boy #3 and his video games."

And girlfriend #2 and I continued to watch the season premier of Survivor Nicaragua. Survivor is one of my favorite shows, don't judge me. I seemed to have hooked girlfriend #2 and she's happy to go along the Survivor ride with me.

"I hear it again."

"Yeah, where's the husbands phone? He always leaves it in the living room."

He has a new phone with a stupid ring-tone, it just kind of beeps.

"I'm going to have to pause the season premier. Damn."

I found the phone in our bedroom and I had no idea how to use it, can't check to see if there's a missed call. Damn. The husband and Boy #2 are in the middle of home improvement downstairs, if I go down there, I might never come back up. They'll ask me to hold something for a minute and hours will go by before I get released. But a missed phone call might be from work. Damn.

I went down there. The husband had a blow torch in his hand and some silver stuff in the other. He put the silver stuff down and I dodged out of the way of the blow torch. Boy #2 is lucky to still be alive down here. The husband checked his phone and said, "It was mom, here call her back, it's ringing." I ducked out of the way of the blow torch and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mom it's Sue."

"Hi, was my son over here today?"

"Huh? Did you stop at your mom's today?"

"No." Torch answered.

"No mom he wasn't there."

"Oh, then it was Boy #2 and girlfriend #2."

I turned my attention to Boy #2, he turned around and I was happy to see he still had both his eyebrows. "Did you go to Grandma's today?"

"No."

"No mom, nobody here was over."

"Well then who put my toilet seat up?"

Uhhhhhhhh..............................

"I never put it up, somebody had to. Somebody was here."

It appears there is a toilet seat mystery over at my sister-in-laws and it was carrying over 7 miles away to our house. We need to solve this pronto, Survivor, Survivor Nicaragua, still on pause. Damn.

I heard a discussion going on in the background and listened intently, well as intently as I could with a blow torch flailing in our laundry room.

With the husband and Boy #2 off the hook the only other possibility was...............the great grandson, the 4 year old. The 4 year peed in grandma's toilet and didn't put the seat down.

"Are you watching that blow torch?"

"Yes, I'm watching the blow torch."

"It's just that you almost torched me twice."

"Go watch your show."

I mentioned on FaceBook last weekend that I would rather stick a fork in my eye than be involved in a home improvement project. That hasn't changed.

Damn That Rock in my Purse

Apparently the junk in my purse is worth a Citronella Reed Diffuser Kit. I'll never take those silly assed games at Bridal Showers lightly again. I tied for third place in the Bridal Shower Purse Game or more commonly known as Crap You Carry Needlessly Around 24/7 in Your Purse Game. Hand Sanitizer and Band Aids are worth 7 points each. I got 10 points for a Q-tip and 12 points for my library card. Huh. Those little sewing kits that no one ever uses but can never, ever be disgarded - 15 points. I think what put me in my tie for third was the rock, it was worth 20 points. Yes, I have a rock in my purse, I need that extra weight to make me miserable or it's a good luck rock, can't remember.
Now I have a Citronella Reed Diffuser Kit to ward off mosquito's. Which is awesome except for the fact that I have no patio furniture to go with it. You know what this means don't you? We're going to have to turn into one of those families that spends time together outside instead of in front of the TV. I'll probably have to start drinking wine and entertaining the neighbors instead of drinking vodka and orange juice in front of the computer. If we're going to spend more time outside there will be more yard work, I might even have to start a garden. Damn that rock in my purse. If only I would have chosen the gift wrapped door prize that was square instead of rectangle. I'd have a beautiful Lady Bug Planter right now with no social implications.

Did They Just Have Sex?

Since the husband is the one with the big brain that willingly accepts the concept of Math, you know, he can figure out how much to tip a waitress without a tip calculator, well he got to see to it that we met the tax deadline last night and I watched Dancing With The Stars. Somebody had to do it and I love Dancing With The Stars, it's a star-studded extravaganza, so I watched and he calculated. Every once in awhile he would come out of the office, sit in his recliner, realize what was on TV and leave, muttering something about wanting to check a score. The Cleveland Cavs and the Cleveland Indians were both playing last night, but the husband was afraid to be seen watching girl TV. He has a reputation to uphold being the dad of three boys and, they would never let him hear the end of it.
He again returned to his recliner just when the last dance started, Julianne Hough and Chuck Wicks danced the Rumba. He sat quietly watching, I didn't even realize he was there because I was transfixed by the Rumba unfolding before my eyes. A full 5 seconds went by after the dance and then he turned to me and said, "Did they just have sex?"
"A little bit maybe. Do you want to watch it again? I can rewind."
"No. Get me a score."


I posted a video of the Julianne Hough and Chuck Wicks Rumba on my other blog, View of Sue, if you want to see them make out.