Talking Trash

          Last week I fell into a garbage can. There, that’s my story and I am literally sticking to it.

          I wish I could tell you it’s the first time this has happened. Alas, no. It’s the third time!

          I was pushing the (thankfully empty) can up the sloped driveway and suddenly it got away from me, the wheels rolling too far under, and the next thing I knew I had hit my head on the sticky interior, and my knees were banging on the concrete. I also got a massive bruise on one elbow.

          I was so dazed that I was unable to crawl backwards to get out quickly, but I didn’t want to stay in there until someone saw me. And, of course I worried that someone could even be videotaping this whole thing. Which neighbors have security cameras? Are they pointed this way?

          Eventually I backed out and sat up, surveying the neighborhood. The coast was clear. Whew! My head was throbbing and my knees were skinned, but otherwise no damage.

          Except to my ego.

           I may have cleaned up a bit for my latest Youtube Mom videos. Check 'em out!

Warehouse Where?

          Have you noticed that every cop or detective show thinks it has to involve a warehouse?  Not just a warehouse unrelated to the plot, but one with NO LOCKS. EVER.

          Yes indeed, these facilities are apparently wide open for anyone to hide in. They are always low in inventory, and always have plenty of room to walk around, yet not see where you’re going.

          No one ever thinks to turn on a light.  The cops and robbers both creep about in the shadows, guns drawn in case they literally stumble upon their enemy.

          Incredibly, the bad guys know where all these spacious beauties exist, as if they subscribe to “Hideouts Unlimited” or something. Yet the cops need their top tech people to pinpoint the same locations. 

Inside someone will be tied to a chair, which was apparently left there by the warehouse owners, again for no reason-- along with plenty of rope.

          Or, amazingly, a body will be stuffed into a barrel containing a miraculous amount of body-dissolving chemicals. Again, too heavy to transport, the barrel must have been thoughtfully left there by the warehouse owners.

And speaking of the owners, they never show up. I’m guessing they’re at home watching detective shows.

Instead, take a look at my Youtube Mom videos—tons of life hacks, but none about escaping from a mysterious warehouse.

Stunt Double

           I need a stunt double. Honestly, I could avoid so many injuries by not doing my own stunts. I seriously wonder how Tom Cruise does it.

          For one thing, I very much doubt that he has Dyspraxia, as I do. It means I’m clumsy, I bump into things that I don’t intend to (door jams, for example) and team sports are out of the question.

          Just in this blog alone, I have mentioned my occasional falling out of bed,

 

 my inability to high-five anyone,

 falling on the floor in class as I’m teaching Seminary,

and trying to mail a package at the Post Office.

          What can I say? Daily living gives me a lot of material. I’m just tired of doing my own stunts.

          You can see one or two of these in my Youtube Mom videos—there are hundreds of them online.

Do You Know What Today Is?

           It occurs to me that we need more holidays. We can trade in the dumb ones and have days that actually lift our spirits. See what you think of my ideas:

          Elastic Waistband Day – Pretty self-explanatory, but I think some gratitude is in order.

          Hat Day – On this day, everyone wears a hat. I can see this getting ridiculously elaborate, and the more Seussian, the better.

          Library Day – Off you go to the library and borrow at least one book. Libraries are an endangered species, so let’s keep them going.

          Old Person Day – On this day you visit someone older than you are. You remember that they have more experience and you honor that. (Plus, it’s a good reminder that somebody is older than you are.) Wait. Now that I think about it, I might be the one who gets visited! Forget this one.

          Drawers Day – No, this is not about underwear. It’s a day to clean out a drawer. This can be a desk drawer, the infamous kitchen “junk drawer” or even your underwear drawer. Okay, so it is about underwear.

          Rocky and Bullwinkle Day – Self explanatory.

          I was going to suggest Chocolate Day, but it already exists (July 7).

          Pajama Day seems to be every day now, at least for teenagers.

          And January 27^th is Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, so I’m posting a photo from a year ago, when we gave two of our boys bubble wrap suits for Christmas:

          May you celebrate to your heart’s content, and even take time out to watch one of my Youtube Mom videos!

Now I'M the Infamous One?

           You know how it’s fun to discover that an ancestor of yours was a notorious bank robber or a gun-slinging madame?

          Well, now I've got to do ALL our genealogy so our kids won’t, because now I’M the one I don’t want them to read about!  Here’s how it happened:

I signed up for a family history webinar and guess who was running it? The granddaughter of (let’s rename her) Ethel Smick! Ethel was on my committee when I was a Relief Society President back in the 1990s. And it just so happened I was on the phone with her when St. Bob (See? This is really HIS fault) called with a very racy, flirtatious phone call. Husbands do this.

I thought I had put Ethel on hold, but no! She was only on conference, so she’d heard the entire thing, finally interrupting with, “Uh, I’m still here. I thought I’d better speak up before this went any further.”

Well, of course I died inside, made a flustered apology, hung up, and vowed to move away in the Witness Protection Program. It is truly one of my most embarrassing moments.

          And now, here was her granddaughter, saying, “My grandmother always shared such amazing stories with me…” at which point Bob, watching along with me, muttered, “There was once this Relief Society President…”

I even included the story (with fake names) in one of my novels. But here it was again, popping up to haunt me. I held my breath, waiting for the granddaughter to relay the story, to show the entertaining sorts of details you might uncover about your ancestors.

Finally, the segment ended without this humiliating detail, and I breathed a sigh of Relief. Not Relief Society, just relief.

You can find my novels and my Youtube Mom videos right here.

Making a Great Impression

          We all know the law that if you look your best, you can run errands all day and never see a familiar face. But look a wreck, and you’re sure to see everyone you know.

          I was gardening all morning, which means lots of sunscreen, and pinning my hair up into a very messy bun, not one of those cute ones you see.  I was also wearing grubby clothes and even worse shoes—a pair of loafers with holes in the toes.

          I lost track of time and suddenly realized I had to dash to an eye appointment, so I jumped in the car and drove like Cruella deVille to get there.

          But on the way, my sweat transported smears of sunscreen right into my eye, making it water and sting. I pulled over, took out my hard contact lens, rinsed it, and put it back in.  It was still stinging, so I just took it out entirely. One of my strip eyelashes had also come off from all the crying, so I put it in my purse.

          As I dashed through the front doors the receptionist looked up.  Only then did I see myself in the mirror behind her. Half of my bun was hanging down on one side. I had mud on my chin and on the side of my nose. One of my eyes had eyelashes, the other was bald. My nose was red from tearing up all the way there. My hands were muddy, even though I had worn gardening gloves, and my shoes looked like I’d found them in a dumpster.

          “Oh, wow,” I muttered. “Sorry for how I’m dressed—I was gardening.”

          She stared at me. None of this explained my wonky eyes, but she told me to take a seat. And, of course, this is a place where people try on frames, so every flat surface is a mirror. No matter where I looked, an alley cat crazy woman was looking back at me, and socks were sticking out of the toes of her shoes.

          No less than seven people had to help me—with eye tests, insurance questions—I was there for two hours! How many times can you apologize for your appearance before it just seems like a ridiculous lie?  So if you see me gardening in formalwear next week, you’ll know why.

But I try to look a little more cleaned up in my Youtube Mom videos.