When Husbands Fidget Spin.

My dear sweet husband went on a Fidget Spinner bender after having a few drinks. This is me explaining it to a friend.

ME: “If Devin buys another Fidget Spinner, I think it’s grounds for divorce.

Friend: “How many does he have?”

Me: “He told me he bought 7 but they seem to just keep coming.”

Friend: “7? WTF. I want one. Maybe he needed an extra one for his dong.”

Me: ” I meant to bring you one when we had dinner the other night. Devin claims he “forgot”. I think he didn’t want to part with it.”

Friend: “So he really doesn’t love me.”

ME: “He just loves Fidget Spinners more.”

Friend: “Dick.”

Me: “Don’t feel bad, I don’t even have my own spinner.”

Friend: “Wow. He doesn’t even love you. But 7 for himself. Amazing.”

Me: “He claims he was drunk when he purchased them. It’s so annoying to think you are getting a package and it’s your husbands 6th fidget spinner.”

Friend: “Screwed twice by a drunk Devin.”

Me: “I’m going to buy 7 dildos and be like, “What…I was drunk! …Wait, are fidget spinner’s dildos? Jesus. Now I’m confused.”

Friend: “If you do get 7 dildos can I at least have one of those?”

Me: “Sure. Next dinner party you will either get a fidget spinner or dildo.”

Friend: “It’s like Christmas!”

Me: “Covfefe!!!”

Insane Clown Texts from Dad

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My Dad recently sent a text that said “Soon to be ex manager of Resource Depot driven mad with hopeless longing.” Attached with a picture of him in the scariest clown mask I’ve ever seen. My first thought was, “Oh no. Dad’s gone full serial killer.”

When I called him it turns out he just wanted to quit his job so he could travel more. A strangely mundane story considering it’s my dad and a creepy ass clown mask is involved.

Our conversation continues:

Dad: “You should take it for Augie, it’s a really expensive looking mask.”

Me: “No thanks Dad, I don’t want Augie to grow up to be a murderer or worse an Insane Clown Posse fan.”

Dad*hearing nothing*: “What about for an early birthday present?”

Me: “As much as a four year old wants a used killer clown mask the answer is still no.”

Dad then lists other people he could give the clown mask to, including a pastor at his UU church, so I’m sure this will end well.

I did have some fun with the mask: I put the picture of my dad in the mask on his birthday cake captioned, “Never looked better.” Sooooo I’m sure I’m on some sort watch list at the Stop & Shop bakery. So far I’ve done a Golden Girls, Judge Judy & now scary clown cake, each one promoted more & more concerned looks from the bakers.

Photo cakes might be the best & worst thing that ever happened to me.

 

My deep seated (slightly weird) love of Mr. Rogers

Mr Rogers is everything I wish I could be. He is the wind beneath my wings, my #parentinggoals and my personal hero. I love him in a non ironic, non hipster sort of way. I adore him the way sports people adore their sports idols. He’s my Micky Ruth.

I remember where I was when I heard he had passed. I was in science class my junior(ish) year of college. My science professor & I had worked out a nice mutual ignoring of each other, until she informed the class that he had died. I was immediately shook. My professor and I made rare eye contact and even rarer conversation about how sad we were.

Seriously, if you ever get a chance to go on a deep dive of Mr. Rogers you will not be disappointed. Start with the book: “I’m Proud Of You”  by Tim Madigan, it’s about a guy (Tim) going through a mid life crisis and he forms an unlikely friendship with Mr. Rogers. During his mid life crisis he realizes that he has never heard his father say “I’m proud of you.” and that has a lasting effect on his life. So he asks Mr. Rogers if he’s proud of him and Mr. Rogers tells him he’s very proud of him and then signs every letter they write to each other with I.P.O.Y. (I’m proud of you.). It’s such a great story. Tim also fully realizes the weirdness of a grown man asking another grown man to tell them they are proud of them but it so profoundly effected his life that it didn’t matter.

Honestly, I doubt Mr. Rogers ever thought about the weirdness. He just saw a need, did something wonderful and didn’t care if it was normal. He wasn’t normal. He was better then normal. He was helpful and kind and that’s all that mattered to him.

Also, this book does have a bit of a religious slant to it. As did Mr. Rogers. Truthfully, I don’t have a religious belief system. I don’t have an understanding of Universal Intelligence, higher power, a grasp of heaven or hell. Basically anything existential is above my pay grade. Not having a fully formed answer to the why and the how of the universe can sometimes be a lonely place. Particularly lately when it feel like the world is on fire and the death eaters are winning. When I start to feel pretty bummed about everything I remember Mr. Rogers. He existed. He was good and kind and wanted to help. And there are so many people like him. One of Mr. Rogers most famous quote talks about this need to remember the good:  “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping. To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.”

The Dalai Lama states, “Our prime purpose in life is to help others, And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” For me, Mr. Rogers is the best example of a helper. He gave his life to make children feel connected, less scared, and wanted them to know that he loved them just the way they are.

So as I worry for our children’s generation who seem to have so much more turmoil and uncertainty, I am comforted that Mr. Roger’s legacy continues. Our sweet children don’t get him physically but they will damn sure get his messages through the lives he’s so deeply & proundly touched.

So thank you, Mr. Rogers and I know where ever you are you are being the very best neighbor.

When clay figures go wrong

My son recently made a King & Queen clay figures. He wanted everyone to know one was male & one was female, hense the anotomy. I sent the pics to one of best friends.

Me: “Augie made a King & Queen. If you can’t tell who’s who he gave the Queen a HUGE vagina.”

JW: “How does he know what a vagina looks like?”

Me: “Him & Anna bathe together. Plus he’s a huge fan of that kid from Kindergarten Cop. Apparently the Queen is the Queen of India, we all know how she got that job.”

JW: “You’re offensive.”

Me: “I know, I shouldn’t slut shame a clay Queen snowman. With a HUGE vagina.”

JW: “Some of us have to birth humans naturally. Large vaginas happen. And matter.”

Edit to Add: *I fully support the BLM movement and am in no way making fun of it. *I guess I also support large vaginas but am kind of making fun of them.