What’s behind YOUR couch?

Posted in Seriously? with tags , , , , , , , on December 8, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 426

Now you would think I’m gonna be talking about loose coins, popsicle sticks and pet hair, right?

I wish. That crap I could at least clean out and throw away.

I have a gym behind my couch which gets pulled out nearly every morning as someone does a bunch of exercising and stretching at crack-o-dawn.

I might add that we’ve dedicated a separate room in the house for these follies—it even features a monstrous Bow-Flex—but for some reason the mini-gym stays behind the couch.

It actually stays in the middle of the floor most days unless I have time to shove it back behind the couch. When I don’t and a neighbor stops by, it’s always a little awkward.

“What IS all that?”

I get it because, frankly, a few parts of the mini-gym look like implements of torture.

I mean, there’s a rope. Which I tie around Sister’s neck to take her out when I can’t find the leash.

Then, there’s a stick-like apparatus with blue handles that looks like a bludgeoning tool.

I can’t forget the muscle-roller-outer (I don’t know the real name) that looks like a battering ram.

And the push-up paddles look like the defibrillator paddles used to restart a heart.

You might notice the baseballs, too. Technically, those are for working out a knot in your muscle. You actually position yourself on the floor and roll around on the ball. They could also conceivably be thrown in a heated argument.

Last but not least is the balance board. It’s homemade, a  heavy hexagonal-shaped piece of solid wood with sand-papery no-slip strips on it. It goes on a plastic cushion-like thing and you balance on it.

Tyler tried it once and fell and the non-slip treads made his side bleed. I don’t know what water boarding is exactly, but this board would be a good candidate.

Anyway, take a look at where all this crap fits. In my living room.

Kinda makes me feel like hurling a baseball.

What’s behind YOUR couch?

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Ear capades and yet another difference between men and women

Posted in Uncategorized on November 21, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 425

Jerry’s ear looks like its been mangled by Mike Tyson.

On Saturday, he and two buddies went mountain biking, and Jerry slammed into a tree, cutting his ear and whacking his collarbone, all of which he relayed to me on the phone on the way to tailgate with the same guys for the NC State game.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“It hurts like hell!”

“Welllll, maybe you should get it checked out. Maybe you need stitches,” I said.

It was stupid to even suggest stitches. My husband NEVER gets stitches. Hand caught in a motor? It’ll be fine. Chainsaw mishap? Brush it off.

Unless he’s in an OR and the surgeon puts them in–kind of a one-stop shopping thing–he just doesn’t do stitches. Stitches, apparently, are for wusses and babies and people who enjoy biding their time in waiting rooms.

So the next morning he’s telling me something and I really looked at him (it’s amazing how infrequently we do that) and all I could see was the bloody stump of his earlobe.

“Your ear!! My God!”

“What? I told you.”

“You’re missing, like, 25 percent of it! It looks…awful!”

“If you think that’s bad, look at my collarbone,” he said, pulling up his shirt. The area was bruised and there was an odd lump on one side. “There’s probably a break, but not a major one. I can still move my arm. I hit pretty hard. I think I blacked out for a minute.”

“WHAT?? Are you serious? What if you have a concussion?”

“What would they do, put a cast on my head?”

And, this, my friends, is where you can see the major difference between men and women. Or, more specifically, between my husband and myself.

If it had been me and my girlfriends, we’d have detoured to a freakin’ emergency room. Or at least an Urgent Care! One of us would have the task of comforting, the other would be in charge of making calls, the last person would take on logistics–food, water, directions, insurance cards etc.

Actually, let’s back that up. We wouldn’t be in the woods in the first place. On bikes.

Belks, maybe.

But I’ve never had a shopping injury this bad.

What do you do when you’re bored?

Posted in On the Road with tags , , , , , on November 10, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 424

Bring joy to the world with a Sharpie. Or practice for a spelling test.



 

 

Gather acorns from the yard, toss them in the fan blower under the hood of the car and see if husband can figure out what that rattle is. Mwahahahaha!


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Make alien hat from magnets, Kinex and a tin lid–for a very patient dog.

How did you know?

Posted in So true with tags , , , , , , on October 27, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 423

The other night as we were turning in for bed, Jerry complained of his lips being really dry.

So I said, “Oh, here, use my Chap Stick.” Because I’m a Chap Stick addict and I have tubes everywhere, including one on the night stand. I don’t even care. There are way worse things I could be addicted to.

“No, that’s okay,” Jerry said. “I’ll just wait til morning.”

“You’ll sleep with me but you won’t share my Chap Stick?” I asked. “That makes no sense at all.”

“Let me see it,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I bet it has a rounded tip because you put it on weird and glom it all around your mouth.”

Glom? 

“No I don’t!”

So I showed it to him and damn if he wasn’t right!

“How did you know that?” I was a little amazed.

“The same way I know your toothpaste tube is in a mangled wreck right now at the sink and that it’s probably all clogged up. You just use whatever will come out, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“Normal people get a tissue and clean it off until it’s unclogged. And squeeze the tube from the bottom.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, that takes way too much time. I’m in a hurry. What else do you know about me?” I asked.

“That there will always be a big tennis shoe to trip over in the middle of the night because you leave your shoes everywhere. And you never let the car warm up. And the pool towels will always be draped over my bikes in the garage and…”

“Fine! That’s enough. You know me,” I said, getting into bed. “Do you want to use the Chap Stick or not?”

“No.”

“Why?

“It’s called ‘Soft Lips.'”

“So?”

“It’s girly stuff.”

“I’m girly. And I’m in the bedroom.”

That shut him up.

Yeah. Score one for the toothpaste-mangling, chap-stick-rounding girly girl. Finally.

Chivalry is not dead, sorta

Posted in Seriously? with tags , , , , , , , , on October 19, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 422

I finally made it into the 21st century by getting an iPhone for my 40th birthday. Man, is it cool.

A good friend of mine told me about this game you can play called Words with Friends. It’s pretty much just like Scrabble, which I’d never really played.

So I signed up to play a bunch of games–12 to be exact. Why so many? I don’t want to be rude, so anytime I got an invitation to play, I accepted.

To be blunt, I suck. I’m getting better, but right now I still suck. A lot of people put up words that are worth 50 to 60 points. My words are usually worth about 12.

I was asking Jerry for words one night and he said, “Lemme see that thing.”

Once he entered the word, the scoreboard came up on screen. “Whoa! You need some help here.”

So he came up with a few more words. Scrabble is a mix of math and spelling so we made a pretty good team. I thought it was kind of sweet of him to want to help me increase my score. Save my reputation. Help me out. Which he did.

But then he saw the scores of all my games. “Damn, you are getting your ass kicked by everyone!”

“I know. Sometimes you have to lose to learn.”

“No you don’t! Who told you that? You are losing every single game.”

“I know! Quit saying that!”

“It’s terrible! Maybe you should just quit!”

I hate it when good chivalry goes bad.

The talk…

Posted in So true with tags , , on October 10, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN #421

When Tyler asked me how babies were made a few days ago, I did what I’d promised myself I’d never do: I ignored his question.

Oy. I really didn’t want to tell him this young. Then again, I’d rather he hear it from me than another kid.

And I remembered I was eight when I asked my mom, after which I bellowed, “THAT IS DISGUSTING!”

Feeling guilty, I asked Tyler a few days later if he still wanted to know.

“Yes,” he said. “I mean, do you just get lucky?”

Oh, I should have just said “Yes” and ended it there, adding a disclaimer like  “The guy gets lucky and the girl gets pregnant.” But I figured that was cheating.

Instead I sighed and said, “Well, first, you have a man and a woman who are MARRIED and IN LOVE….” Now, I know this isn’t always true, but it’s my version and I figured I might as well open with it.

“Mom, I know that! I mean, how are they made?”

At that point I decided it would be a good idea to borrow a line from one of the websites I’d googled after he asked the first time. “Well. The man gives love to the woman and then a baby grows in her belly and comes it out when it’s ready.” Even to me it sounded vague and confusing.

“What? But how? I don’t get it.”

ARGhghghghgh. He wasn’t going to let me off the hook. So, finally, I told him the real deal, plain and simple, careful not to give too much information, but using the correct terms.

Silence.

“I know it’s confusing and it may sound weird, but it’s a very beautiful thing,” I added hopefully.

Tyler looked dubious. And confused.

“Are you confused?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. But I know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Now I really don’t want to get married!”

I guess you could say Mission, not accomplished.

Back to the drawing board and, maybe, the library.

From the “duh” files

Posted in Current Events with tags , , , , , on October 5, 2011 by cwgala

GRIN # 420

Things that should have happened sooner:

  • FINALLY, the freakin’ supermarkets, a lot of them anyway, are considering getting RID of the self-checkout lanes because they’re not being utilized by the majority of U.S. shoppers. Only 16 percent of total transactions took place at the self checkout in 2010 compared to 22 percent three years ago. DUH! That’s because a). you need a Ph.D in computer science to use one and b). most people like to interact with a real human being that speaks his or her language (customer service industry, take note puh-lease!).
  • Crystal Harris, 25, broke off her engagement with Hugh Hefner. I know! I was surprised too! But apparently, she thought about it and decided it wasn’t “the lifestyle she wanted.” Hugh, 85, was surprisingly okay with it and showed a screening at the Playboy Mansion of “The Runaway Bride.” His reaction: “better now than later.” In other news, The Playboy Club was cancelled from prime time’s fall lineup after just three shows, which goes to show you sometimes good judgment does prevail.
  • Charlie Sheens not in the news anymore. “Duh, winning!”  Looks like the “duh’s” on him.  The lesson: no matter how rich or famous you are, eventually someone will call your bluff.