A Catfish Big Enough to Take a Baby

First thing. When my son said he wanted to have some kids over from the Drama Club, I assumed he meant like 6 or 7. No. He did not.
30 children have taken over my home. And graffiti has taken over the walls of my basement. My husband and I tried to leave. Just to grab a movie. But my son grabbed my arm and told me it was "unsafe for us both to go." Bloody hell. Who are these people?

So, instead we escaped to our bedroom to watch whatever might be on TV. It happened to be River Monsters, a dumb-ass, unrealistic, ridiculous, effing show which my husband watches with such hope and enthusiasm that you'd think it would somehow complete his life in some capacity for them to find one...

Can we talk about this for a minute? They have NEVER found an unidentified river monster.

My husband likes to declare that they have found a few -so do my son's- but guess what? No - they have not. A large sting ray and a giant catfish are not river monsters. They are a large sting ray and a giant catfish.

So, I like to make it a point to jump up in bed every so often and yell "Guess what?!?" And then slam myself back into my lying position and calmly reply, "They don't find the river monster in this episode." Because there is no river monster in any episode. Ever. Then my husband gets this disappointed look on his face as if I've crushed all  his hopes and dreams and he's been waiting his whole life to capture the river monster and I've just ruined it.

To make things worse the "explorer, biologist, fisherman, host" (his words, not mine) sounds like a mix between Simon Cowell and the creepy man from Forensic Files. And he says things like, and I quote, "A river monster of this size is capable of taking a baby." Taking a baby? Taking it where and what does that even mean? Is it killing the baby? Taking it for a swim? Maybe it's handing it over to the river god. Because he goes on to say, "This could be the river god that spills out the river spirit, the beast behind the power of this river."

I don't even...I cannot...please make the show be over.

P.S. My son is incredibly angry about this post. He yelled, "You can't talk bad about the show!" - Yes. I can. Then he read a little further. "Mom, you don't even understand the show." - That because it's idiotic. And then "Mooooom- they HAVE found a river monster!" - Yes....I've heard.

We're Too Difficult for the Drive-Thru? Yeah, Ok.

We are on vacation. Which means in the near future I will have a lot to say on this blog. But for now...here's a little snippet.
On our way out of town we stopped at Wendy's to eat. My husband didn't want to go through the drive-thru. Apparently, we are "difficult."
So we went in and waited in line. The kids and I ordered (quite simply) and then he stepped up to order and it went like this.
"I'd like a double combo. Medium. With a diet coke. And can you please have them cut that in half?"
What's that, Nancy...?
Standing behind him, I started laughing and so did all of the kids. This provoked the cashier to laugh. She looked at my husband, "Are you serious?"
He was.
This isn't the first time I've heard this ridiculousness. He used to do it at Burger King with their sub-style sandwich. But this was just a cheeseburger. Really?
So the kids and I proceeded to make fun of him and laugh with the cashier who was still cracking up. She even laughed when she went to the fry-boy, "Hey...he'd like his sandwich cut in half." He looked up at her with disgust. Which made her laugh harder and made me double over.
My son posted this nonsense on his Facebook, and my cousin Kelly's response best summed it up, "I hope he didn't forget his purse while he was there."

This Morning's Rise and Fall

I love my husband. I do.


Last night we went to bed around 11:30p.m. At 4:45 a.m. this is what happened.


I was asleep on my side, facing outward. The same is true every night.
He slept flat on his back.


He must've jerked (which he often does) and it woke me. I'm glad it did. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this.


All of the sudden he jerked toward his side of the bed. Hard. It all happened so fast it was hard to process. I barely turned my head to see what the hell was going on...all I saw were arms grasping at air. (Our bed stands 4ft high) I think he may have been trying to grab the covers, or maybe a hope and a prayer. He was almost successful. But somehow I was coherent enough to know to hold tight.


It was the loudest thud EVER.


I did good. I quietly and slowly said, "Honey...what are you doing?"


He was pissed. Actually, I think he was several things...pissed, embarrassed, frustrated, tired, but above all confused. He said "I fell off the bed. Damn. It." "Son of a Bitch."


I don't know exactly what happened next, but according to him (much later in the day) his foot was stuck under something. He attempted to stand up. Not once, not twice, but 3 times. It sounded like someone was wrestling him, or hiding under the bed holding onto his foot. At one point, when he was trying to stand, he fell to a knee. And the combination of words that came out of his mouth were so randomly vulgar I thought I would die.


He said, "Was that funny to you?" Ummmmm. You bet.