Snap to it!

           Okay, I have a zillion dollar idea for you. Be at the leading edge of a new trend that will sweep the world: A line of clothes that only snap.

          Yes, folks, bump the buttons to the bin!

          The other day I put on one of St. Bob’s shirts, which closes with snaps.  Much faster to put on than having to find the button holes and pulling the button through.

          But the bonanza was that night when I took it off—pop, pop, pop and DONE.  My mind began calculating how many days of my life I have wasted fussing with buttons.

          And then what if a button falls off?  A big hassle to find it (or find a replacement) and then sew it back on. Snaps don’t do this. They stay on and make life more joyful with their happy little sound.

          You feel like a spy, or a stage actor, suddenly ripping off your disguise in two seconds. It’s magical. And logical. Why have we fallen for the Button Barons all these years?

          And why do you think babies’ onesies close with buttons? Because nobody wants to fool with time-consuming, frustrating buttons when dressing a wiggly baby.

          So now you know a side gig you can have, which could grow into an empire.  You’re welcome. (And let me know, so I can buy your snappy clothes!)

Even more amazing tips await you at my Youtube Mom channel. Be sure to subscribe!

Laser Focus on This, Will You?

           You know those guys who have a white beard all year so they can play Santa?

          Well, I must be hoping to play Rudolph, because I’ve had a red nose since my MOHS skin cancer surgery 6 years ago.

          It’s become redder and redder, so I finally decided to get laser treatment. The doctor couldn’t have been kinder, smarter, or faster (you know I like fast).

          “I can do it right now,” she said. “It will feel like the snap of a rubber band.”

          THIS WAS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY.  It did not feel like a rubber band. More like a marching band.  Seriously, it felt like sticking your nose into a wasp’s nest. And we have to admit, the stings would serve you right. 

          I nearly jumped out of my chair. She had to tell me to stop holding my breath. The pain was excruciating, but then you know I have big baby nerve endings, and even sipping a soda feels too prickly to me.

          Finally a cold pack came, then a cooling cream, and I was on my way home. I should expect two or three weeks of keeping gel on it and avoiding the public.

But I did not actually plan for this procedure today, because right now I have a dental appointment, followed by a temple appointment. Then tomorrow a bone scan, visitors, then a dinner engagement with another couple. And on the third day I’m delivering a meal to someone in the church, followed by a big party for the women that night.

On it goes, swollen nose, oh such woes, to my toes, no photos, I must close.

But, lucky you, you can sit and enjoy life hacks on my Youtube Mom videos. By the way, I’m trying to get 10K subscribers, so please sign up and tell your friends to do the same. 😊

And Now a Word From Our Sponsor

           Oh my gosh. Last night my dreams were literally interrupted by commercials. Seriously—one was for insurance (got plenty, thanks) and the other was for dog food (and we do not currently have a dog).

          How is this possible? I mean, I’m dreaming along and suddenly someone else is in charge? And that someone is from Madison Avenue and they want to sell me something in the middle of the night?

          These were great dreams and I wanted to continue with them. But no, I had to stop and watch COMMERCIALS!  With no fast-forward button.  It was crazy!

          Our daughter, a therapist, thinks I’m neuro-divergent. St. Bob agrees.  He says it’s not a complaint, but that I tend to think “Superman fast,” way ahead of present time. He says I ask a question, but while the person is answering I have often moved on and even forget what question I had asked.

          When someone comes to me with a problem, rather than listen and slowly try to help them, I come up with twenty solutions and then want to move on.

          If someone is speaking too slowly, my eyes widen like I’m being tortured (and I am. I literally want to scream and fall to the floor).

          So you can imagine the agony of having to watch two entire commercials before I could return to my dream. Talk about a nightmare.

Awake in the night? This is a perfect time to watch—and subscribe to—my Youtube Mom channel! Hundreds of QUICK life hacks.

Sole Searching

           You’re arriving at an elegant restaurant, a lovely wedding, a quiet church meeting and suddenly--- greeep!  One of your shoes starts squeaking.

          At the moment I have two shoes that squeak, in two different pairs! A local shoe repair guy couldn’t even fix them.

          So, Step One: Form a conspiracy theory. Maybe someone snuck into my closet and installed a listening device, because spies probably want to know what I’m saying. And it just happens to squeak.

          Step Two: Fill the problem shoe with baby powder, then shake it out. Hey, it works with squeaky wood floors. (Does not work with shoes).

          Step Three: Turn up the music so loud that no one can hear anyone’s shoes, creaky knees, or burping. But you might need earplugs.

          Or, just look at the silver lining (and if my shoes had silver linings, that might solve it!): At least it’s better than screaming.

Have you subscribed to my Youtube Mom channel yet? If not, you are missing incredibly wonderful life hacks—check it out!

Have You Arrived, Yet?

           Yesterday I think I got 14 appointment reminder calls. It was either 14 or 140—after 5 I stop counting. For any appointment whatsoever, we are now barraged with reminders about it.

Even as you are driving, they want you to take your eyes off the road and let them know if you’re on your way. It’s computerized once you’re in the system, and they’ll never stop yanking on your sleeve.

But I have an idea. What if we call them to see if they remember that we have an appointment?  Every day leading up to the appointment, we call. Here’s how it would go:

Monday: Hi, this is Joni Hilton. Just confirming my appointment on Friday.

Same thing Tuesday through Thursday. The receptionist is getting testy, now, and says, “Yes, I already told you we have it scheduled.”

But on Friday, you call that morning to confirm again. Hi, it’s Joni Hilton just making sure you have me down for two o’clock.

(Grand sigh). Yes, two o’clock, Joni.

            Then on your way, you pull over and call again. I’m on my way!

Once there, one more call. Now I’m here and I’m heading up the elevator.

Finally you get in to see the doctor and he lowers his voice, trying to be courteous.  “You know, you don’t need to call every day when you have an appointment. The girls are very busy.”

Exactly, my friend.

In between reminder calls, you can watch my Youtube Mom videos for wonderful life hacks!

AMAZING NEWS!

           I am gob-smacked. Wait until you hear this fabulous news.  First, St. Bob took me to McDonald’s for a soft serve vanilla ice cream cone.  It was a hot day and I lapped it up like a grateful rescue dog.

          And then he smiled and said, “Want another one?”  OH. MY. GOSH.  Have you ever, in your life, considered this?  Folks, we can have TWO. Just because you’ve stopped at one for your entire life, doesn’t mean you have to continue.

          You can actually go up to the counter and order another. The Ice Cream Police will not burst in and arrest you.

          My eyes must have looked like this:

          And there was a lovely bonus. A hubby who isn’t always trying to get you to slim down.  Ahhh… Heavenly.

I’m pretty sure you can eat ice cream and simultaneously watch my Youtube Mom channel for quick life hacks.

Almost Crazy

           Yesterday I was driving along behind a car that had a sticker on the back which said, Santa Girl.

          Well, kindred spirit, here!  I have an entire guest bedroom, as you recall, decorated for Christmas year-round.

         I smiled and thought, “Maybe I’ll follow her and tell her I’m a Santa girl, too!”  Or I could pull up beside her, motion for her to roll down her window, and shout the same thing.

          Folks, you will be glad I did not do either of those things. As I followed her for a few more blocks, I realized the sticker (written in a very difficult font, by the way) actually said, “Santa Cruz.” 

         
This is a beach town about 2 and ½ hours away, known for its amusement park boardwalk, surfing, and lovely beaches.  

Apparently she likes that more than Christmas. What is the world coming to?

Stay home where you cannot mis-read bumper stickers, and watch my Youtube Mom channel, full of quick life hacks.

Bilingual... ish

           The other day I met someone who can’t speak Pig Latin. This always surprises me because, like jumping rope or skipping, it just seems like a required part of childhood.

          So I thought I’d write a blog for all those people who perhaps speak Spanish, French, Italian, Japanese, Norwegian, and Swahili—yet have not mastered this secret language.

          And here’s the real secret: You’re already speaking it!  Yes, my friends, once again I have compiled a blog unlike any other. I have found four—count ‘em, four—English words that also double as Pig Latin!

          Let’s begin with a word we’ve all used: Ebay.  This is Pig Latin for be.  Or bee.  I-yay E-say Un-way Ebay. It means, “I see one bee.”

          Outstay is another one. It means to overstay, as in many a visiting relative.  You will find it in Pig Latin if you’re trying to say, ‘Stout.”  This is a word that is both a noun (describing a dark beer) or an adjective (describing a strong or chubby person).

          And in either case, it is pronounced, “Outstay” in Pig Latin. The “st” blend stays together.

          Next we have the word, obey. It’s Pig Latin for Bow, which has too many meanings to list here (bow tie, bow and arrow, a violin’s bow, etc.).  Pig Latin rules are that you must put the first consonant after the word, with “ay” following.  This gives you “Oh Bay.”

          “Airway” is the last word, and it’s Pig Latin for “wear.” It comes from putting that W at the end, followed by “ay.”   “Can you wear this hat?” becomes “An-cay oo-yay airway is-thay at-hay?”  Soon you’ll be absolutely fluent at the Bay of Pigs, England’s Swine village, or even Hogwarts.

          Ow-nay  oo-yay  ow-knay.

While practicing this marvelous tongue, watch any of the hundreds of short life hacks on my Youtube Mom channel!

Getting Things Down Pat

           Ever been patted on the head?  How about in the middle of the night?

          My first thought was, “Why is St. Bob patting me on the head and waking me up?”

          And my second thought was, “Are you KIDDING me?  I’m patting my own head?  At three in the morning?  Am I NUTS?”

          Well the answer to that is probably yes, though I can’t remember the dream that made me do that. Also, I was not trying to rub my stomach at the same time, in case you were wondering.

          All I can surmise is that I was a very, very good girl.  Right?

         Be sure to subscribe to my Youtube Mom channel, where you can find hundreds of life hacks!

Making Things Harder Just Because

           Do we really need cumbersome words when simple ones will do? I’ve somehow gotten onto the mailing lists of several sites that share long doozies that will only make us look ridiculous if we use them:

          Terpsichorean. This relates to dancing. “Oh, her terpsichorean skills were amazing.”  Pedantic + Snooty = You will never get invited back.

          Sprachgefuhl. This means a sense of the natural character of a language.  Give me a break—you use this word and no one will think you have it!

          Veridical.  First of all, people will think you’re trying to say vertical. It means true to reality, but why not just say true to reality?

          Eidolon.  This is an idealized person or thing. In this time of scrutiny and criticism, does anyone even do this anymore?

Obnubulate. This means to darken or shadow something. Can’t you just picture yourself saying, “I hope those Tenebrous clouds don’t obnubulate our wedding.”  Then, “Hey, where did the groom go?  Honey?  Honey?”

          Horripilation. Okay, I’ll admit I like this one, but only because it sounds like something horrible.  It actually means the hair on our skin standing up due to cold or fear.

          I think I’ll end with Peripeteia, because it’s something all of us would like: it’s a suddenly reversal of fortune.  Although we only want that one if it’s a grand surprise in the upward direction, right?

          While you await your peripeteia, check out my Youtube Mom videos for hundreds of easy life hacks.

Inside Info

          You think you speak English fluently. You think you have a decent vocabulary.  And then you meet someone so embedded in their hobby, that they have an entire vocabulary you’ve never heard of. 

          Just talk to a pro wrestler. You’ll hear about “blading,” where these guys actually cut themselves with a “gig” razor blade to create drama and look injured. A “job” is losing a match so the other guy will look stronger. Some wrestlers have no other job than to be a jobber.  “Kayfabe” is keeping the script a secret. It goes on and on.

          Let’s jump to the inside lingo of cat shows. “Furnishings” are not the number of sofas a cat has torn to shreds, but the hair inside the ears. A “UFO” is not a space traveling cat, but the United Feline Organization. And “Cat wash” is not a typo of car wash, but can be a bathing bag that supposedly keeps owner and cat calm during the bathing process. But it isn’t all hoity toity, there’s also the “Moggy,” a cat show for non-pedigreed cats.  

         We all like movies, but that world has its own secret language as well. The electrician is called the “Juicer.” A “Barney” is a blanket used to muffle camera noise. A “Blimp” is a box that does the same thing. A “Dope Sheet” isn’t a list of idiots on the set; it’s a list of scenes that have already been filmed. A “Squib” is a capsule of fake blood, used to look like a bullet wound (and wouldn’t this be useful to the wrestlers?) Finally, “Alan Smithee” is the only pseudonym a director can use if it’s a real stinker and they don’t want to be associated with it!

          The game show, Truth or Consequences, used to pick someone from the audience to “speak” in their occupational lingo. I watched, as a kid, fascinated. Little did I know I’d grow up to marry St. Bob, who hosted that show after Bob Barker!  And yes, like all couples, we have our secret language, too. But those examples are, well, secret.

But it's no secret that you can learn hundreds of fast life hacks right here, on my Youtube Mom channel.

Is Your Blinker Still On? And Can it Do This?

          Yes, we’ve all thought about our car’s blinkers. Some of us have not used them lately (thank you, not), but most of us are pretty good at indicating we are planning to turn.

          However, St. Bob and I just bought a new car and I have discovered an unmentioned fabulous feature: Blinkers that sound like the coconuts in Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.

          Yes, every time I turn my blinkers on, I picture Arthur “galloping” up to the castle with his trusty servant, Patsy. He wants to ask the master of the castle if he’d like to join his court at Camelot.

Alas, having no horses, Arthur’s got Patsy banging two empty coconut halves together as they run along, trying to simulate the sound of galloping. Hilarious.

The guard at the top of the castle questions him about where he got the coconuts, England being a temperate climate and coconuts being tropical. Another guard joins the discussion, as they argue about birds that could migrate carrying heavy coconuts, and Arthur finally gives up, “galloping” away.

It's usually just in time for me to make my turn.

But if you’re home—not in your car—you can watch hundreds of short life hacks on my Youtube Mom channel!

Making a Brincadeira

          The other day we went to a party (despite that one of my Seminary students recently and wistfully said, “You’re old enough that you probably don’t get invited to many parties anymore.”)

          I was in the buffet line—of course—and the man next to me introduced me to his wife, who was from Brazil.  “Oh!” I said, “I have a friend who lived there for many years and she speaks Brazilian.”  Even as I said that, I knew my brain was searching for the correct word, ‘cause Brazilian ain’t it!

          The wife graciously smiled and didn’t correct me.

          But after I had gone through the line, the word Portuguese popped into my head, and I dashed outside on the patio to find her and apologize.

          I was so eager to do this that I bumped into her chair. Now I needed to apologize for two things. So I did, and she was very kind. But then she asked my name. 

          Yikes—until now I was hoping she would forget who I was, not re-tell the embarrassing story, certainly not flesh it out with an actual name. So I gave it to her.

And I couldn’t help thinking, maybe my seminary student was right: Maybe we won’t get invited to many parties anymore!

But if you’re at home instead of making the social circuit, take a look at my Youtube Mom videos, filled with handy life hacks! Click right here: https://m.youtube.com/c/jonihilton

Bullseye

 St. Bob just came home with this:

          Yes, it’s a target from a gun range, and those little holes will tighten up next time because he just had shoulder surgery and had to hold his pistol with one hand. He was actually not happy with this result.

          He was a sharpshooter in the military, so of course I told the kids he was the sharpshooter of ALL the military branches. But, in my defense, this could have been true. Had he not been so handsome and engaging, he could have ended up as a sniper instead of a game show host.

          And then he married me. Have you ever seen me throw darts?

          No, you have not. It looks as though I couldn’t even see the target, and aimed at the surrounding wall instead.

          But I’m consistent. If I throw a wad of paper towards a garbage can, it will miss the can every time.

          It’s the same with basketballs, baseballs-- basically any ball-- but especially guns. It’s a complete waste of ammunition to let me try shooting. But don’t worry—I have wasp spray in case someone breaks into the house. It can shoot 20 feet, sprays out like a shotgun, and drops an intruder to his knees.  Not only that, but it saves getting multiple holes in the walls.

         Aren’t you glad I’m not into hatchet throwing?

          Take a shot at my Youtube Mom videos—you’ll hit something great every time!

Did You Know This?

           I think the reason we can’t remember as well when we’re older, is because we’ve crammed too much useless trivia in there. I will never forget the theme to Gilligan’s Island, nor the words to the Woody Woodpecker cartoon song, and no solution is in sight.

          So when St. Bob found a list of trivia on his phone, he immediately decided to test my knowledge.

          “There are 100 folds in a French chef’s hat,” he said. “What do they stand for?”

          “How many ways you can prepare an egg,” I said.

          He was stunned. “How do you know that?” (And I still say I’m going to make that my ring tone someday.)

          “Suma Cum Laude, Baby,” I said.  This always gets big laughs for some reason.

          He scanned the list for another tough question. “If you know this one, I will be awed,” he said.

“You’re already odd,” I said. Ba-doom-boom.

“What do the people of Japan eat for Christmas?” 

          I had no idea.

          “Kentucky Fried Chicken,” he said. 

Turns out turkey is scarce there, so KFC campaigned for a spot on the menu, and got it. They eat other traditional food as well, but the Colonel’s secret recipe was a hit, and has been for 50 years.

          And now I will probably store that useless bit of information right next to the Looney Tunes opening music.

Time to cram your noggin’ full of life hacks—check out the hundreds I have on my Youtube Mom channel! (Way more than the number of folds in a chef’s hat!)

 

St. Bob Becomes a Mogul

           We all have wild dreams. Most of us shelve them, only occasionally imagining what we’d do if we ever hit it really big. But I never knew about one of St. Bob’s secret dreams.

          He went to a friend’s cabin, opened a cupboard, and (cue the Heavenly choir) saw an entire display box of Butterfingers. Yes, these are the boxes you see on store shelves.

          “You can buy these?” Bob gasped.

          “Sure,” his friend said.

          Needless to say, the minute Bob got home, he drove to Walmart, lifted the entire Butterfinger display off the shelf, placed it on the conveyor belt, and came home a luminary, a commander of legions, a king of commerce.

         All in one glorious moment. This day he conquered the Mount Everest of candy acquisition.  Rare is the purchasing giant who can actually go to his pantry anytime and find a box of Butterfingers from which he can casually choose.

          Ahh… to attain such heights, such majesty. He has proudly shown it to several visitors, but stopped when he realized they might want one. Now it sits in silent secrecy, awaiting his visits.

          And I am married to that genius.

Although this isn’t one of them, you can find other exciting life hacks in my Youtube Mom videos.  

Mea Culpa

           Nothing panics a woman like a lost purse. 

The other day I was at church, wandering about before the meeting began, chatting with friends. One of them wanted to set a date for a comical women’s night starring guess who. 

“Oh, let me grab my calendar,” I said. I use an old-school pocket daytimer, so I headed back to my pew to get it.  There it was, my black handbag. I sat down and opened it up.

But what was this—my wallet was missing? Oh, no—it probably fell out in the parking lot!  No calendar, either.  And a totally different lip balm—wait a second. 

 This wasn’t even my purse! Aghast, I hurriedly closed it up and put it back on the bench, then scurried two rows up to my real purse.  Meanwhile, my eyes were darting about to see who might own the decoy handbag. But nobody stepped up.

And I just want to apologize to whomever it is that owns Evidence Bag #1—I truly am sorry I went pawing through your purse. I just hope you don’t own a car that looks like mine and that I haven’t accidentally gotten inside that one as well.

With any luck, she was busy watching one of my Youtube Mom videos. I can only hope.

White Out

           You know that thing, where you buy a new car, and suddenly you see that same model car everywhere?

          Well, my variation on that is seeing cars the same color, and it’s causing me to get lost in a parking lot full of white cars.

          St. Bob loves to buy cars (mostly he loves to negotiate), but generally he gets me white ones. And this must be true of all other car buyers, because everywhere I go, this is what it looks like:

Or this, minus the ocean: 

          I honestly snapped this photo myself when I last went to Hobby Lobby:

          In a café, I overheard a woman say she was so embarrassed that she had tried to get into the wrong car, and I thought, Once?  You’ve only done this once?  I must do that once every two weeks!

          If someone followed me with a security camera they would probably call the cops because I appear to be trying to steal one vehicle after another.

          But it would really help if the rest of you would stop purchasing white cars and get a little adventurous with the colors.  Thank you.

Instead of buying white cars, how about staying home and watching my Youtube Mom videos?  (Though none are about how to solve the white car problem.)

Funny Bob

           It goes without saying that St. Bob is funny, so I’m saying it anyway. In just one day, he said the following:

          I throw my laundry basket downstairs and shout, “Incoming!” so he’ll know what the thud is.  Immediately he shouts back, “Missed me!”

         I can’t find him so I text “Where are you?” and he writes back, “Africa.”

                 I say, ‘You’re sure cute,” and he thinks I said, “You shut up.” So now autocorrect is a human thing?        

           Then I’m looking all over the house for a belt I’ve lost, can’t find it, and realize I’ve left it at the physical therapy office. Bob points out that it wasn’t lost; I was.

                 It’s lucky I don’t have to pay him by the word.

          Hey, another freebie is my Youtube Mom channel filled with hundreds of fun life hacks!