Hump Day Humor

Let me set this up- I work with Jack and Jill. They are hysterical grandparents who could almost make me blush. Almost. They are that funny. We give each other a load of crap and it is like having a full set of grandparents to be with every day, if only mine were to talk about penis' and the likes.

Well, Jack is a very active "elderly" lawyer. He curses and makes fun of his still living classmates that live a sedimentary lifestyle. He knows if he slows down, he too will become the drooling heaps of cholesterol he loathes. Therefore, every morning he goes to a co-ed YMCA to swim. He does this so his diet can consist solely of chocolate, ice cream and coffee. (His wife can be quoted as telling me that he will eat three or four spoons of ice cream while waiting for the morning coffee to brew!)

Yesterday was no exception in Jack's routine, and off the the Y he goes. Only, when he called in and sent Jill into a fit of hysterics that had me brushing up on my CPR to aide her, his morning hadn't gone a planned. You see, instead of showing in his speedo (yes. speedo) he hopped in buck ass naked. That meant he strutted out to the pool buck ass naked. Causing him to strut back to the locker room still buck ass naked. Tossing on his bottoms and cruising out to apologize to the ladies all ready in the pool, he got two shocking responses. One woman told him she couldn't see that far and the other one said "Hell, I've seen it all." I like these old birds!!

When he got to the office today, there was a sign requiring shirt, shoes and pants to enter. Jill was quick to whip out the clip art and formulate little signs. And, she has only called him Buck all day. The saying "keep your pants on" has been utilized by yours truly a few times today:) I am that quick!

If you hadn't exercised your facial muscle today, I hope that did it for you. Go to www.eddiehaynesinc.com and hit up the associates page to get a look at Jack, with clothes, to enhance the giggle!

Peeing

In my many years of urination and of raising livestock, I have come to figure out that peeing has a sound. My dad using the saying "raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock" when we have really fast, rapid, gully washer rain. It splatters. It makes a sound.

The reason for me dragging you into a situation of learning about peeing is this story:

Saturday, as I was navigating Sam's club, our realtor called me. He informed me of a couple who wanted to see the house, could I get it together, blah, blah. At this point, the conversation was totally normal, sounded like any other business professional calling a client. Then it took a dramatic turn for the worse. As he was breaking my little heart informing me that someone who loved our house, needed to move in fast, was a real "live one" had disappeared. I was so into his story that I was listening very intently. Then I heard it. It started slowly. I heard his voice echo. That echo sound of a bathroom. (I know this b/c I have heard it from friends/done it to friends but those are friends, not clients) I hear his voice ricochet off the walls. Then I heard the stream of urine making its way from the ureter to the bowl. That is a distance for men, due to their standing up. It echoed, made the pee sound, he was peeing in my ear.

It took me a few seconds to grasp that I was just in the bathroom with my realtor, while he was peeing. Not only have I taken out ads in newspapers, put our house on craigslist, printed off flyers, put them in "take one" tubes on our signs and hand made signs to cover this realtors ass, I have been to pee with him. I must say his prostate is healthy, or healthy enough to be picked up by a new version of the iPhone. Who does this? Honestly, would you keep this man as your professional realtor or would you can his ass?

I miss

Okay. By now the cat's out of the bag. I went and got knocked up with twins. Yep. I have always been a leader, an over achiever, right? HA. Guess my womb took up the slack and decided to overachieve. I think the long-term boyfriends of years ago have all taken a deep sigh of relief knowing we didn't work out, we didn't stand at an alter together and they aren't fathering two kids at one time. Two cars, two college educations, two strollers, two DEEP BREATHES. Sometimes I panic. Others, I just think I am normal and you singleton momma's are abnormal.

Anyway. Since I have started this incubating debacle I have encountered a few things that I miss, I really, really miss. At first, I figured I would miss the taste of beer oh so very much, and happy hours. Turns out Oklahoma has been handed a weather death sentence this summer and patio/happy hours would have been limited. Just my luck, right?! Mind you, I will huff a brew when it passes under my nose and I did let a little drop of a beer touch my tongue. Momma still likes the taste, so don't worry I am going to change my spots. But, that hasn't been my number one thing missing.

I miss my deep belly button. Gross and random, I know. Maybe TMI, but it's the truth. I love to stick my finger in it. Not sure why, always have, not just a random, nervous habit. Just a habit in general, a lot like my hair twirling. I have a cute, deep, clean belly button. CORRECTION- had. Sure hope the damn thing goes back to normal.

My designer jeans are gathering dust. I miss putting my butt cheeks in expensive denim and wearing them proudly. Not to brag, but I often thought I sort of rocked them. Not Heidi Klum, super model rocked them but in a sassy KC type way. This whole process is not allowing me to wear them. I don't know if my arse is getting larger (no comments from the peanut gallery, okay) or what, but I hope like crazy these two aliens don't strip me of the joy of wearing those jeans again after I calve.

Another thing I miss..... people calling simply to chat with me, about my day, their day, our lives. Not treating me like a container for the happiness they desire. I am simply called upon to check in on Thing one and Thing two. My daddy checks in on them, I am an after thought any more. I am simply a container for life. Long and short of it, everyone will always call about these silly kids from now on. If you are my friend and reading this..... please call me and chat, giggle and enjoy the conversation without feeling like you have to get a status update from my womb. I won't be offended. I think I have almost lost a very close friend, b/c she feels she has to ask those questions but in real life she could give two shits about the answers. She just doesn't care and that is okay with me. Not everyone can wrap their heads around me harboring twins. Most of the time it is me scratching my head and wondering "how did this happen?"

I miss Diet Coke, but I hope it doesn't become a staple in my life again. It wasn't that hard to cut out and I hope I stay strong on that. I miss being strong willed against my sweet tooth, too. That has to stop once I pop.

Not that my feet are pretty but seeing them used to be normal. I would like to know that they are there and all toes are present and accounted for. Yes folks, that means I know possess enough stomach to not be able to see my feet. I feel bad for the men that haven't seen them in years:) heehee.

And last but not least, I miss being spontaneous and actually enjoying seeing people. I am avoiding people like the plague. I am shallow. I will admit it. This excess weight is wearing me out, and I am hiding from everyone. I spend a lot of time at home, which let me tell you can be pretty damn boring when it's too hot to even walk outside. I miss just being able to drive a long drive without seeking a doctors okay. Pregnant women are sort of treated like invalids. Especially one toting two bambinos around. So, if you invite me to something and I dodge the event, simply know it isn't you. It is me and I dodge everyone, especially events that might have cameras involved. No pictures please!

That about wraps it up for this whining session. Thanks for reading along.