• Humor

    Biodegradable marriage.

    Today’s blog post is brought to you by the sun, sunscreen, bleach cream, and Scott and I were married on July 17, 2004 by a pastor in front of one hundred witnesses. When people say they don’t want to get married because it’s a piece of paper – they’re right. Marriage is a piece of paper. It’s a piece of paper that can be easily misplaced when a newlywed couple moves from Manhattan, Kansas to Charleston, South Carolina. Misplaced meaning it probably got thrown in the trash. Thirteen years later, it most likely doesn’t exist because paper is biodegradable, much like a marriage. Hold on. That last sentence came out wrong.…

  • Humor

    Shiplap lover.

    What makes something funny? I don’t have an answer for you and I consider myself a humor writer. I can tell you humor is an art. There are different styles of humor – parody, satire, slapstick, irony, sarcasm, puns, spoofs, dark humor, the unexpected. Any stand-up comedian will tell you timing plays a role in humor. My parents will tell you humor is genetic. But recognizing when you’re a dumbass and telling the world takes a certain skill. I once told Scott that people only think I’m funny because I’m good at making fun of myself. It’s called the dumbass humor. I was in the bathtub when I realized – holy shit,…

  • Humor

    No solicitation.

    We have a problem in Suburbia. Yesterday, my door bell rang three times. I did what I always do – I hid, peeked out the window, and let my two dogs bark at the door. It was two different solicitors selling two different products. One came back within 30 minutes which is totally weird, dude. Adding a “No solicitation” sign has always been on my to-do list. It shot right up to the top of the list after I saw my neighbor’s version of “No solicitation.” Melissa is one hell of a woman. A woman after my own heart. Not only do I crave deep-dish pizza but I also love…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor,  Parenting

    The letter P.

    You guys, I fell asleep writing this last night. I kinda want to leave it how it is because it slowly doesn’t make any sense which is exactly how life goes. I won’t do that to you. I’m re-writing P. And now I have Q to write today too and this is the point where I regret starting this A to Z writing challenge. I struggled with P yesterday. P is inappropriate – penis, poop, period, puberty, pimples. P is boring. Pregnant. Oh, hell no. Pinterest. Meh. Purple. I don’t know. Pancakes! I suck at turning pancakes. There. That’s all I have on pancakes. I decided to go with the mother of all…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor,  Oh Emma Oh Kate

    The letter N.

    Good evening and happy Easter to you. I know you’re taking the time out of your day to read this. For that, I would like to say thank you. It’s a school and work night so I’m going to make this short and sweet because I’m a nice person. The letter N. Nice. Do you know who else is nice on this Easter Sunday? My daughter, Kate. Emma is ten and Kate is seven. Those two ages bring a lot of new responsibility. They’re becoming independent from Scott and me. They can make their own school lunch. They take their own showers. If I need to run a quick errand, Emma and…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor

    The letter M.

    Me: I decided my next blog post is about John “Motherfucker” Burton. Scott: OH, COME ON! MY GRANDMA READS YOUR BLOG! This post is dedicated to Scott’s grandma. M is an easy letter – motherhood, monarch butterflies, makeup, monkeys jumping on the bed, mud, middle child, marriage, motherfucker. Motherfucker. It was my first thought this morning. I hate mornings. But there it was – motherfucker – hanging like a piece of forbidden fruit. You know, I wasn’t going to go there. Like I said, I had plenty of other M words to write about today. But a quick google search changed my mind. The letter M. Motherfucker. Crawl through the depths…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor

    The letter L.

    There’s a problem in suburban America. It’s the pedal to the metal. It’s hightailing it home. Full throttle. It’s the valet guys taking Cameron’s dad’s red car in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. The letter L. Lead foot driving. I’m not talking about the local teenagers drag racing down the street. Although, I don’t like that either. Stop it – you’re going to wake up my kids and probably kill yourself. I’m talking about daddy and mommy dearest flying through neighborhoods. Being an adult mostly sucks but being an adult also means you don’t have to be lectured anymore. Until now. Are you guilty of Fast and Furious’ing through your neighborhood? Yes. We all…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor

    The letter K.

    She came into the world with a middle finger up. The wild child. She never did take a bottle. Her toddler nickname was “the bulldog.” She wouldn’t let me feed her baby food; she had to feed herself. She refuses to “fake” smile for pictures. The kid doesn’t take shit from anyone. Scott and I can tell which daughter is walking into our room at night based off the heavy footsteps of confidence. I’m scared shitless for her teenage years. There’s only one. The letter K. Kate. Coming from a family of four kids, I knew what I was getting into with two kids. You need balance. Equality. Treat all kids the…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor

    The letter J.

    Oh, the pervs of the Internet. Search engines play a role in driving traffic to your blog or website. Businesses know this and will invest in what’s called SEO – search engine optimization. Imagine how many companies show up after googling, “car rental companies.” If you owned a car rental company wouldn’t you want to be the first on Google’s list? You’re going to have to pay for that. I don’t pay for crap. I don’t know my long-term plan with this blog. I give you free entertainment and you listen. But I would write to myself, really. Believe me, if any of this started to feel like “work” then I’d…

  • A to Z Challenge,  Humor

    The letter I.

    ICE CREAM. It’s ice cream. The letter I.  My favorite food in the entire world is ice cream. Ice cream sounds good on a full stomach. Ice cream sounds better on an empty stomach. My death row final meal – ice cream. My pat-on-the-back treat every night for not killing anyone? Ice cream. Who screams for ice cream? That would be me if one of my piglet family members eats the last of my ice cream in the freezer. I once chased an ice cream truck for two blocks in my old neighborhood. This probably sounds slightly psychotic for a grown woman to chase an ice cream truck but to top it…