All posts by ihatehardware.

Jelly Bean – G-Rated Video, R-Rated Text

Update: Chuck (and anyone else who gets upset when I call men stupid in this post), don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m not a man-hater. There are plenty of men I like or even love. It’s a good thing you’re not a fly on the wall at Mommies’ Night Out. Your ego would never be the same. 😉

Some of you will take this the wrong way, but it has to be said. When God was handing out brains, Adam thought he said “stains” and said, “No thanks, I’ve got plenty on my sheets and underwear already.” I’ve chronicled the proof in my email series called “Men are Stupid”. Like the time when I was pregnant and I sent Ben to Target to buy Preparation H and he came home with Ben-Gay. Hey – They both come in a tube, right? I could probably have been less general in the title of my email series, but given the evidence from my gal-pals, Ben’s not the only one.

I know there are men who aren’t stupid, and most men aren’t stupid all the time. There are even some stupid women. I’ve done plenty of stupid things. I work with lots of men who are intelligent contributing members of society. But now that I have a son who I feel is old enough to know the difference between a fun experiment and a really stupid idea, I realize that men can’t help it. They started life as stupid boys. My brothers used to shoot arrows up in the air and try to run out of the way before they came down and impaled them. A couple of weeks ago Adlani was in the tub, and I noticed that his weewee looked a little funny. He had a few infections under his foreskin when he was a baby, so I moved in for a closer look. While I was holding his weewee and we were both looking at it, he started peeing – right in his own face! Just before that we went to one of Aliya’s soccer games and Adlani got his head caught in the net. Yes, just like a fish. No, I didn’t get a picture, but I have witnesses.

As further proof, I offer up the following video evidence:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2_s7f5tPOI&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0]

Here are a few entries from my email series (Note that these all took place when I was pregnant with Norah and may contain TMI for some of you.):

6/26/06
Here’s a funny one in the “proof that men are stupid” category.
On Saturday afternoon I asked Aliya why Adlani’s hair was all wet. She said, “Because he stuck his head in the toilet. I told Daddy about it and he put some water on it. He put sanitizer on it too.” So Adlani’s hair was all stiff and full of Purell. At least it’s probably germ-free. Maybe we’re the stupid ones…they were born this way but we chose to bind ourselves to them for life.

8/15/06
Ben kissed me last week and I was like, “uhh…what’s on your lip?” He said, “My pimple medicine.” I said, “I don’t think so…what’s the name of your pimple medicine?” Ben: “Orajel.” I knew that’s what it was since my lip started going numb. One of my friends got really mad at her husband and she put Orajel on his toothbrush so when he brushed his teeth his mouth went numb and he thought he was having a stroke. I’m saving that one for a big fight. I shouldn’t be surprised by Ben’s use of Orajel to fight pimples…he was using Shout the other day to clean the kiddie pool, and…one for the TMI category…he couldn’t find the “personal lubricant” and was looking for an alternative…he yells out from the bathroom, “What’s this Balmex stuff?” At least it might have helped with the diaper rash I’m bound to get from the pee-pee pads I have to wear 24 hours a day. Apparently his philosophy is that anything in a spray bottle is all-purpose cleaner, anything in a small tube is zit cream, and anything in a large tube is lubricant. One time I caught him just before he put Blue Emu (like Ben-Gay or Icy-Hot) on Adlani’s bum, so I guess anything in a tub is diaper cream.

8/31/06
Ben somewhat redeemed himself by making the 1/2 mile drive to Target to buy the treatment for my new friend Hemmy Rhoid but when he couldn’t find Tucks, he came home with Tums. At least Tucks and Tums both start with T-U and end with S. And they’re both in the health and beauty aids section. He could have come back with turnovers, or tulips, or tubas, turkeys, tutus, turnips, tunas, turtles, tumbleweeds, or even turds. Actually, several of those would be preferable over Tums. Maybe I should put a Tums between my butt-cheeks. I’ll be so busy trying to hold it there, I might forget that someone new has moved into the neighborhood.
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No Peeing

Last week Aliya asked me “What does a sign mean when it has a ‘P’ with a circle and a line through it?” In a moment of evil amusement I told her it meant “No Peeing.” I don’t know what possessed me to say that because I normally answer her questions truthfully and explain things to her satisfaction without giving more than the required amount of details on the more sensitive topics.

We were driving home today and she blurted out, “Why would there be a ‘No Peeing’ sign in front of a house? Who would pee in someone’s driveway anyway??”

I felt a little guilty when I explained that I had just been kidding and that it meant “No Parking.”

In her most indignant voice she said, “So you thought it would be funny to allow me to believe the wrong thing for a whole week.”

Luckily, she didn’t tell her friends. 😉
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Dear Abby

I saw this letter to Dear Abby this week and it struck a chord…

DEAR ABBY: I have been reading your column most of my adult life, but I don’t ever remember seeing any letters from people who are just afraid of life.

The world today is such a scary place. I have a small child who will have to grow up in this world, and sometimes the thought terrifies me. I hear about school shootings, dangerous gangs, religious leaders who are sex offenders, and I recently watched a report of six teenage girls beating another and videotaping it to post online.

How can parents feel safe raising our kids in a world this crazy and scary? I am trying to look for the positive in life, but, honestly, it gets harder and harder.

— MISSING THE OLD DAYS IN ARIZONA CITY

DEAR MISSING THE OLD DAYS: I agree, bad things do sometimes happen to good people. However, you can’t live your life as though the Hammer of Thor is about to strike you down, and if you maintain your fearful attitude, you could pass it along to your child.

While I can’t guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen to you or anyone else, please allow me to remind you that the news media earn their income from magnifying the tragic, the scary and anything that deviates from the norm — whether it be a murder, a car wreck or a five-legged cow.

The time has come for you to turn off your television set, tune out talk radio, and take your child to a park, a playground, a zoo or any family outing. It’s a sure way to detoxify yourself from the negativity that has poisoned your outlook. Do it for two weeks, and I can almost guarantee you’ll feel better than you do today.
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Here are some more classic (and true!) Dear Abby letters:
http://www.snopes.com/humor/letters/dearabby.asp

Dear Abby,

A couple of women moved in across the hall from me. One is a middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker in her mid-twenties. These two women go everywhere together and I’ve never seen a man go into or leave their apartment. Do you think they could be Lebanese?

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Dear Abby,

What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language and Violence on my VCR?

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Dear Abby,

I have a man I can’t trust. He cheats so much, I’m not even sure the baby I’m carrying is his.

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Dear Abby,

I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has been on the pill for two years. It’s getting expensive and I think my boyfriend should share half the cost, but I don’t know him well enough to discuss money with him.

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Dear Abby,

I’ve suspected that my husband has been fooling around, and when confronted with the evidence, he denied everything – and said it would never happen again.

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Dear Abby,

Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a boy who was raised in a good Christian home turn against his own?

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Dear Abby,

I joined the Navy to see the world. I’ve seen it. Now how do I get out?

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Dear Abby,

My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist $50 an hour every week for two and a half years. He must be crazy.

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Dear Abby,

I was married to Bill for three months, and I didn’t know he drank until one night he came home sober.

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Dear Abby,

My mother is mean and short tempered – I think she is going through mental pause.

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Dear Abby,

You told some woman whose husband had lost all interest in sex to send him to a doctor. Well my husband lost all interest in sex – and he is a doctor. Now what do I do?
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