Monthly Archives: April 2012

Skipping Your Anti-Psychotic Meds Leads to Volunteerism

7 Comments

I forgot to take my anti-psychotic medication one day and I volunteered to chaperone six teenage girls on a softball trip to Gulf Shores this weekend.   The voices in my head told me to do it.  Those silly voices—they’re a hoot with their practical jokes.  Now I have to go fill my Xanax prescription to quiet them.

Gulf Shores, Alabama. Beach.

Ahhh, surf, sand, and a team of softball girls. The voices said "It'll be fun...we promise!"

That whole “Just Say No” to volunteering campaign led by First Lady Nancy Reagan was obviously a complete failure.  I can understand why she started that campaign though because I’m sure she had a lot more requests to volunteer her time than I do.  What’s that you say?  It was “Just Say No” to drugs?  Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

Official White House photograph of Nancy Reaga...

Does "Just Say No" include my Xanax?

I also volunteered for G-Bear’s career fair at school.  The students will visit tables to learn how to become firemen, policemen, astronauts, and professional liars—also known as political candidates.  I’ll tell them how they can write about those things.  And provide them with my writer’s guide—“Surviving on a Writer’s Income: 99 Ways to Prepare Ramen Noodles.”  I’m considering offering my follow up edition as well—“How to Hone Your Fast Food Fry Making Skills”—but don’t want to overwhelm them with information.

Chief Money Maker also volunteered for the career fair.  Since I have no clue what he does, I’m not sure how he’s going to help a bunch of seventh graders understand either.

                CMM:  “I work for HP.”

                STUDENT:  “Cool, so do you make computers?”

                CMM:  “No, I design strategic plans for large corporations to integrate and manage their internal data structures and technology needs through continued support and help centers.”

                STUDENT:  “Where’s the table with the pamphlet on honing your fry making skills?”

Volunteering is simply part of parenting.  If you don’t volunteer yourself, your children will volunteer for you.  They do this because they don’t want to feel left out, and because they have deep-seeded resentment that they passively aggressively act out on by volunteering you and then informing you of such approximately 14 minutes and 23 seconds before you have to perform your duty.

I have to cut this short today because I just received a text that my Xanax is ready and I have to start preparing to leave at 5 a.m. tomorrow morning for Gulf Shores.  This means I’ll get to bed at 3 a.m. after running around all day getting prepared for the trip while Sweet Pea does nothing but ask, “Does this swimsuit make my butt look big?”

Pray for me.  Pray hard.

Tell about the craziest thing you’ve volunteered for…or your crumb snatchers have volunteered you for.

© 2012 CThacker

The Whoopty-Do About the Whoopty-Do

4 Comments

I want to discuss a very delicate subject this week and I will need to tread lightly.  Please note that I pondered long and hard about whether or not this subject should be broached.  As an aspiring humorist, I work hard to maintain a lighthearted atmosphere in my blog posts.  Oh who am I kidding!?  I was ready to jump all over this topic like a 3-year-old jumps on a happy meal!

Happy Meal logo, English

I came across an article this morning that stated some idiots parents are allowing their teenagers to have sex in their homes.  Milk-a-wha??????  Apparently this topic was all abuzz on Twitter and the news this past summer.  I must have missed the hullabaloo while I was busy organizing our family’s annual Barrel of Monkeys competition.  I’ve decided to reopen that can of worms and fire up that topic again for several reasons:

                1)  It deals with sex and sex sells. 

                2)  It’s controversial and controversy sells.

                And most importantly:

                3)  I can’t remember…maybe I’ll think of it by the end of this post.

First of all, let me say that under certain circumstances, I would not be opposed to the crumb snatchers bumping uglies in our home.  What would those circumstances be, you might ask?  Well I’m glad you did, ‘cause I was going to tell you anyway. 

Circumstances Under Which The Crumb Snatchers Can Have Sex In Our Home 

                  When we’re dead and gone, you’ve bought out your sibling’s share of our home, and you’ve moved into it with your husband and children then you may “park the car in the garage of love”—the first Tuesday of every month like normal married people. 

(The preceding opinion is that of the author’s.  The printing herein does not necessarily reflect the opinions of the owner of this blog.  However, since they are one and the same, it kinda does.  I just think legal disclaimers are pretty cool.) 

Ok, ok, maybe those circumstances are a little overboard.  They can pick any day that first week of the month.  See, I’m a flexible parent.

I was really flabbergasted at the logic behind this idea.  Something about how they’re going to do it anyway and allowing it at home is cleaner and safer than the woods.  I have to admit, I’m a little jealous if someone has a teenager with a room cleaner than the woods!

Part of Sulham Woods West of the Little Heath ...

See that stuff on the side of the road? It's GROWING in your teenagers room!

Look, Chief Money Maker and I aren’t naïve.  We know that our crumb snatchers have hormones surging through their bodies like water flows over Niagra Falls.  We talk openly to them about sex, protection, consequences, sexually transmitted diseases, and how it’s not really anything like you see in the movies.  Come on—you know your hair never looks that good after doing the bad boogey!

I believe there is a fine line between openly discussing sex with your teenagers and opening your home for bouncing the pogo stick.  That line in our house is the six inches of personal space they must maintain at all times or Chief Money Maker gets antsy with his trigger finger.  I can’t help but wonder—if you allow it to occur in your home with your knowledge, what’s the next step?  Do you toss ‘em up a cigarette when they’re done with the naughty? 

You might also think that teenagers across the board are all for this idea, but you would think incorrectly.  In the video interview from Good Morning America, one of the teenagers on the panel said that by openly approving sex in your home, you are eliminating one of their strongest arguments to their boyfriends for not doing the naked dance—The “My Parents Will Kill Me” argument.  Now that’s a girl whose had some proper raising.

Oh, that just reminded me of my third reason for this post.

                3)  I wanted to send a message to our crumb snatchers—See above teenager’s argument for not having sex.

I have to go now.  I just read another headline that needs my attention:

                                                “Granny ‘drug kingpin’ busted in Oklahoma”

It’s a crazy world…………

© 2012 CThacker

How We Make Our Marriage Last Longer Than Kim Kardashian’s

7 Comments

Like peace in the Middle East, I wasn’t sure making it to our one year wedding anniversary was possible.  But Chief Money Maker and I did it against all possible odds—and I’m richer today for it.  No really, I am.  I just cashed in my bet with the Tunica bookies.  I always bet the long shot.  Let’s get real.  Who would have thought that two Leos, both previously married, living in a house with five crumb snatchers and three dogs would have a marriage that lasted longer than Kim Kardashian’s? 

Kim Kardashian Fragrance Launch, Glendale, CA ...

I vow to love, honor, and make lots of money off our wedding.

A few of you reading this might have laid down some bets on our marriage too.  Don’t pretend like it doesn’t happen.  We’ve all been there.  The violinist is softly playing, the usher lights the candles, the groom walks in looking like a man taking a death row walk, and the bridal march begins to play.  As she reaches the alter, the bride and groom gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes and you lean over to the person next to you and say, “I give it six months.”

You might ask what is the key to our long-lasting marital bliss?  Well, it’s a combination of things: good communication, unconditional love, and the threat of making good on the life insurance policy.  When Chief Money Maker asked for my hand in marriage, I said yes (obviously) but I gave him this full disclosure.  With love brimming over from the depths of my soul, I looked deep into his eyes and said, “I will marry you, but remember this.  I won’t be divorced again.  I don’t mind being a widow, but I won’t be divorced.”  He’s either the bravest man on this planet, or his driveway doesn’t go all the way to the street, if ya know what I mean.

Our anniversary was ushered in without much fanfare, and we closed the night while sipping champagne on our patio.  We reflected on the events of the last year.  Another key to a successful marriage is to always examine where you’ve been and where you would like to go.  He talked about his career success over the past year, how he’d learned what it means to have a daughter, and how he felt he could improve as a husband.  I told him I wanted to go to Hawaii.  I love champagne. 

A picture taken, of Champagne.

The bubbles make me giggly!

I also love my anniversary gift.  The anniversary gift tradition goes back hundreds, maybe even millions of years.  Once upon a time, some poor cavehusband screwed up big time.  He stormed out of the cave and sat at the tavern drinking all night with his cavebuddies.  After listening to them complain about how their cavewives never swept the dirt floors, never picked the nits out of the cavekids hair, and couldn’t fry a dinosaur egg on a rock, he decided he didn’t have it so bad.  He went out and found a shiny gold rock in the creek bed and brought it home for his wife as an apology.  It just happened to coincide with their wedding date, so the wedding anniversary gift tradition was born.  I don’t really know if that’s true, but it certainly sounds plausible.

Caveman stick figure.

I've asked you three times to take out the rotting sabertooth tiger carcass!

Anyway, the traditional first anniversary gift is paper.  Because Chief Money Maker loves me—and because he fears gettin’ dead—he gave me a signed contract for a swimming pool in our backyard.  My paper gift to him?  A signed check for the deposit—from his account, of course.  Ahhh, love is bliss. 

I will leave you today with one of Chief Money Maker’s favorite toasts—which Wolfy delivered perfectly at our wedding.  “May the best memories of the past be the worst memories of your future.” 

And with mine.  “May we be friends until we are old and senile—then we’ll be new friends.”

© 2012 CThacker

“Hey Blue, Are You Blind?” And Other Things Sports-Parent Related

3 Comments

In my blog this week, I want to address sports etiquette.  Proper sports etiquette–regardless of the sport–includes hand-shaking, saying good game, and attempting not to call the officials “fat bastards.”  Oh, and the players should follow these rules too! 

In high school, I earned summer money keeping score for Little League games. I quickly learned the backstop wasn’t erected to prevent balls from hitting the spectators. It was strategically placed to protect the umpires from savage enthusiastic Moms. 

American Little League Baseball

Hahaha! You can't get me through the fence!

When The Eldest began playing baseball, I will never forget the sight of nine little pairs of eyes peeking from the dugout to see whose Mom was getting thrown out of the park for yelling at the umpire. When he met me in the parking lot after the game he said, “Mom, please don’t do that again.” 

While the Moms are busy yelling at the umpires, the Dads are yelling at their crumb snatchers. The Eldest has a story from his own umpping days. He recalls one particular game where a Dad constantly yelled from the stands, “Pay attention son! Get the ball son! Throw the ball son! Catch the ball son!” The Dad then moved to the right field fence and in exasperation asked, “Son, what in tarnation are you doing?” 

From his position on the ground, the child gave a growl and replied, “I’m a tiger!!” Yes, it starts with Tee-ball.  

T-Ball practice

T-Ball stands for "Tiny kids picking their nose on a baseball diamond while parents expect them to play a game." (Photo credit: hubertk)

Recently Chief Money Maker was initiated into the United American Men’s Right Field Club for Softball Dads—often called BUBBAS for short. I asked what they do out there, but he told me he couldn’t tell me without risk of permanently losing his man card. 

I have my own suspicions about what goes on. I think they take bets on whose wife will lead the charge against the umpire. What other explanation is there for the extra cash he had in his wallet last week? 

Wolfy is the goalkeeper for his soccer team. Now I know nothing about soccer except you can get flagged for offside, but I’ve yet to see a quarterback in the game. 

Whereas I might be in jeopardy of getting tossed from a softball game, Chief Money Maker is thrice as embarrassing at a soccer game. Yes, you read that right…THRICE! 

After years of refereeing soccer, coaching, and playing goalkeeper, I have to tether him to his chair to keep him from trying to take over all three positions at once. And believe me, the duct tape across his mouth is about as useful as dubbing Eddie Murphy’s curse words for a network showing of “Beverly Hills Cop.” It ain’t fooling anyone! 

Eddie Murphy at Tribeca Film Festival 2010

You can dub all you want, but we know what you REALLY said Eddie!

Then we’ve got G-Bear and my nephew, Lil’ Scro, teaming up as a pitch and catch duo for baseball. I spent two years keeping score for their team. Do you know how difficult it is to record the plays while holding down Chief Money Maker? I’ve insisted that he form a chapter of the United American Men’s Right Field Club for Baseball Dads—ironically also called BUBBAS—because he can’t sit by me this season. 

But seriously folks, we need to keep in mind that sports activities are intended to teach our children life lessons about leadership, teamwork, organization, and lots of other stuff that–in theory–will one day be utilized in the work force.  And if a parent gets a little crazy in the stands, I like to use it as a teaching moment on hypocrisy.  Or more commonly taught as, “Look crumb snatchers…Do as I say, not as I do!” 

© 2012 CThacker