Give Mia Break!

           Oh, no. It’s another Lucy episode. I wish they’d stop filming these; I don’t even get paid.

          This time I was at the nail salon. I’ve been going there for years, where Ethan does my nails in 30 minutes flat. We usually chat, usually about his darling 4-year-old, Mia.

          Only this time, I saw a cooking show on his cell phone and we started talking about food and recipes. Before you can say, “The oven timer’s done,” he was finished, at which point I paid and made a new appointment.

          I was standing up to leave when I remembered his daughter and said, “Give Mia a hug.”

          He came around the table, squeezed my shoulders, and I left, puzzled.

          ONLY THEN DID I REALIZE THAT HE THOUGHT I SAID, “GIVE ME A HUG!”

          This is a DISASTER! Too mortified to even go back in and explain, I got in the car and peeled out, totally embarrassed. Yes, I know I should have handled it right then, but I didn’t.

          I went home and wailed to St. Bob.

          Ethan probably thinks I’ve turned into one of these flirty old women who snuggle up to men and wink at them. EWWW!

          Now I have to summon the courage to bring it up again when I go there next, and explain the misunderstanding. WHY DID HE HAVE TO NAME HIS KID MIA? THIS IS A CATASTROPHE JUST WAITING TO HAPPEN!

          Mama Mia.

          And, speaking of Moms, you can join 10K subscribers, and watch hundreds of short life hacks on my Youtube Mom channel, right here!

Radiohead?

           I’ll just say it: The fillings in my teeth are receiving radio signals. Yes, I know that sounds crazy, but crazy seems to be what I do.

          So it isn’t these band members:

           In fact, it’s Lucy Ricardo.

          She had the same problem. Like I need one more thing in common with Lucille Ball. You may recall my blog about that here.

          Anyway, it happens mostly when I’m trying to sleep. The second my head hits the pillow I hear voices. No, not paranormal voices—that would actually be kind of cool.  I hear commentators and commercials.

          I raise my head up, and the sound disappears. It’s not very clear in the first place and has lots of static. But it’s just enough to keep you awake.  Last night I heard, “For just a dollar a day,” then muffled news.

          The Mythbuster guys say it’s nonsense, but scientists think metal tooth fillings can act as antennas and detectors, and pick up strong radio waves. Then the fillings vibrate and that vibration passes through the skull, creating sound in the head. Lucy had crowns on most of her teeth, and I recently got a crown. So…

 

          Tonight I’m hoping the station plays some sleep-inducing music.

          If you’re ever unable to sleep, watch a few life hacks on my Youtube Mom videos. Wait—not that I’ll put you to sleep, just, you know, for something to do.

Lucy's Got More 'Splaining to Do!

           You know that my luggage brand is “Ricardo,” right? This fact is not forgotten by my family.  Nor by Karma, nor by any other supernatural powers that turn my trips into comedy routines.

          St. Bob and I just returned from a cruise. 

          The first leg of the trip took us to Chicago, where we saw this giant replica of a Bracchiosaurus that roamed Utah exactly where I grew up. Timing is everything.

          In Barcelona I tied my coat around my waist and pretended to be tidying up at Park Guell, and sent this photo to our kids:

          Brandon wrote, “I guess somebody’s Gaudi do it.”

          Then I got hooked on a jigsaw puzzle on board the ship:

          The next day I saved a little dog on Las Ramblas from getting hit by a car. He had chewed through his leash and the owner was just sitting there, eating and talking, not paying attention. You’re welcome, Spain.

          Next, off to the French Riviera. I was pointing out a building to Bob, in Monaco. I was telling about the flags, vaguely aware that Bob had worn a dark jacked and a baseball cap that day. Suddenly I looked up and it wasn’t Bob, but this good sport of a guy:                                                                

          And, of course, Bob came over and told him this is not the first time this has happened. Brandon said, "You found Dad's doppelganger."

          We got back on the bus and I dropped my water bottle. Bob asked if it broke, and was actually disappointed when I said no. “Darn,” he said, “I was hoping I could tell everyone that your water broke.”  Yep, this is how he thinks.  I texted the kids and Richie wrote back, “It’s really a shame there isn’t video of this.”

          And then, in Nice, we saw a twin of our cat, Simon, who passed away a few months ago. Maybe it really was Simon, letting us know he was now living in the lap of luxury. Or maybe he came to Nice because he thought it said Mice.

          Eventually we came home. I showed my ticket to the flight attendant and said, “2B?” She pointed out the way, and then I winked. “Or not 2B?” 

           She needs to buy mybooks. Especially A Little Christmas Prayer, the perfect Christmas gift.

You Got Some 'Splaining to Do!

           In high school I was given a key chain that said, “Lucy,” because I would get into so many Lucy Ricardo situations. Our daughter says traveling with me through Europe is like traveling with Lucy as well. So you can imagine my excitement when I learned that the actual candy shop where they filmed this famous episode:  

is still operating, in Beverly Hills. So of course I had to visit in person when we were down there to see our son, Brandon. It’s called Edelweiss and they still sell hand-dipped chocolates packaged in a pretty sack. 

If you go behind the scenes, you can still see the conveyor belts and a picture of Lucy on one of the walls:

 

The story goes that Lucille Ball was a regular customer and was offered a behind-the-scenes tour one day. As soon as she saw the conveyor belt she called the producer, told him to drive in from Palm Springs, and see the potential for a hilarious episode. (And if home computers had existed back then, something tells me Lucy would definitely have blogged about it.)

So many of my books contain stories about my Lucy-esque life.  They make great Christmas gifts.  AND my booklet, A Little Christmas Prayer, is a perfectly priced stocking stuffer!

Face It

          I have just made a horrifying discovery and it’s about myself. My face betrays me.  All these years I thought my kids could read my mind, but no. They are reading my facial expressions.

          Years ago someone told me never to overreact when my kids share shocking information (Someone at school is selling drugs, a friend just got suspended, etc.) because then they’ll stop confiding in you.

          So I determined to keep a straight face no matter what they said. But only recently when our grown daughter was here and we happened to be chatting in a bathroom, she shared something shocking. And I happened to see my own reflection in the mirror.  I thought I was going like this:

          But, in fact, I looked like this:

          “WHAT?!” I gasped. “That’s what my face was doing?”

          Nicole just smiled. “That’s what your face does all the time.”

          Well, not ALL  the time, I hope. But every time I hear appalling news, evidently. So my kids aren’t mind-readers after all. They’re just taking advantage of my rubbery, expressive face!

          It also happens if someone tells me they just got over their cold:

          Or they’re out of the dessert I just ordered:

          Or they’re marrying a guy they met two days ago:

          Or they’re bringing me a cookie:

           And I'm pretty sure this means I should never, ever play poker:

          Check out my crazy face on my Youtube Mom videos. Evidently you’ll be able to tell exactly what I’m thinking!

My Lucy Life

             New neighbors have moved in around the corner, so last week I drag St. Bob with me to take them a plate of cookies.  You move onto my turf and you get goodies, it’s Joni’s Law. 

            And I also take them a flyer about a civic meeting, news of when my own church services are, and a list of fun local attractions, in case they’re from out of state.  

            It’s about 7 p.m., and as we pull over, I notice a man coming down the driveway in the dark, so I jump out and introduce myself.  I find out his name is David, and he has a wife and two teenage boys.  I hand him a plate of my very best cookies (trust me, these are chewy and delicious and there are 16 of them on the plate).

            Bob shakes his hand, and the guy proceeds to climb into a truck, also parked at the curb, and drives off!  With the cookies!

            Okay, something here is amiss, starting with the cookies.  “Why didn’t he go inside and ask his wife and kids to come out and meet the new neighbors?” I ask Bob.  “And why didn’t he at least take the cookies inside, instead of just driving off with them?”

            Bob has no answer to this, but I have an answer: The guy is a burglar!  It’s the only explanation, right?  I mean, technically he wasn’t even in the house.  David—if that’s even his real name-- was probably just casing the joint, and then took off with that family’s cookies!

            Seriously, what person (myself excluded) could eat an entire plate of 16 cookies by himself?  Surely he would take them inside to share, maybe grab a couple of them for the road, and then leave. Right?  And anyone with any manners at all would call his family to come out and get acquainted.  Unless what?  Unless he’s a thief on the run, that’s what.   So now I am aiding and abetting and feeding a criminal.  Possibly even a criminal master mind.

            Bob listens to my theory and then says he’s not coming with me on any more of these deliveries.  I am stunned.  At the very least you’d think he would come along to protect me.  I mean, who knows who else will move in?  The next person could be a kidnapper!

            I’ll tell you, I’m going to drive by from time to time and see if this “David” makes an appearance.  I’m also going to watch for a mom and two teenage boys.  After all, we can’t be too careful in this crazy world.  There are all kinds of people out there—burglars, stalkers—oh, wait a second.

            You might not be able to move next door and get a plate of cookies, but you can certainly subscribe to my Youtube Mom channel here, and get tons of great information-- a new post every weekday!