Chestnuts Roasting

Six and a half years ago I married Brantley, and subsequently took away his balls. I placed them in my purse, and there they stayed until Christmas, when I saw fit to give them back.

Nothing sets off a Saab convertible like genitalia. Merry Christmas, honey. Don't let them go to your head.

Sketchy Santas

"Wanna come for a ride in my van?" Santa

Sasquatch Santa

Why do we do this to our kids every year?

Ho-Ho-Hack, Cough, Wheeze-Ho!

Luke’s (18 mos) Mom’s Day Out class hosted a humorous Christmas program yesterday. It consisted of all of the kids sitting on a stage and singing Christmas carols and/or crying. Luckily my video camera was on hand to capture the riveting footage of Luke sitting in his teacher’s lap while he sucked on his fingers and/or put them in his nose.

An announcement was made that Santa would be there, but would be unable to do individual pictures because he had COPD and didn’t want to get sick. I knew Santa was getting old, but he is definitely not as magical as I remembered. I couldn’t help but wonder if Santa’s pulmonologist was on “the good list” this year. Let’s hope so.

When I picked Luke up that afternoon we headed straight to the mall to get a picture made with Santa. While waiting in line, Luke got a little antsy and had to get out of his stroller. Once free of his cumbersome wheels, he took off running. He ran directly into the North Pole exit and fast tracked it to Santa. He managed a “ho-ho-ho!” before I caught up to him and put him back in line.
About ten minutes later we got our turn, but stage fright had set in and Luke refused to look in Santa’s vicinity. I held Luke as I recounted to Santa, everything that Luke “wanted” for Christmas while Luke looked in the opposite direction, whispering “no way, no way, no way.”

I wasn’t about to get out of there without a photo op, and since Luke refused to have his picture made solely with the fat man…

…I joined in the fun.

Ho-Ho-Ho!

It isn't too late to give the gift of laughter this holiday season. Forward this link to all of your friends and let them share in the fun! Merry Christmas!

http://www.loripalooza.com/

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

It was hardly the Red Ryder BB gun from A Christmas Story. “This is what I want for Christmas,” I told Brantley as I dropped the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog down in front of him.

Brantley: “I’m not getting you a marshmallow gun.”

Me: “Why not?”

Brantley: “Because you would use it even less than the night vision goggles you wanted last year.”

Me: “I had a reason for not using them but I never told you because I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Brantley: “Talk about what?”

Me: (in a whisper tone) “One night I heard something outside. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, so I quietly opened the blinds and put on my goggles. That’s when I saw him. Standing in the woods behind our house was a man who was also wearing night vision goggles. He was staring back at me.”

Brantley: “I can tell your lying because your eyes are open.”

Me: “Alright, fine but the infrared function is all crappy. It’s not military grade.”

Brantley: “No, it isn’t military grade! Why should it be?”

Me: “If I had that marshmallow gun I could stalk through the woods behind our house at night WITH my night vision goggles. Not to mention I’ve always wanted to be able to say, hand me my gun…Sure do wish I had me a marshmallow gun.”

Brantley: “Sure do wish I had a real gun.

Sweet Nothings

Brantley and I were watching TV the other night when an FTD commercial came on. I posed the harmless question, “How come you never send me flowers anymore?”

“Because you never do anything to deserve it.”

“That’s not true! I write you love letters for you to find in your lunch at work.”

“Lori, writing “Ink Poisoning Kills” directly on the apple you placed in my lunch does not constitute a love letter.”

“Whatever, at least I’m trying.”

Wanted: One Bathtub Buddy

Every night after supper Luke (18 mos) is covered in food (read: ketchup) and requires an immediate bath. He and I have been taking baths together since he was able to sit up. He splashes, plays with his toys and puts his mouth directly on the faucet and drinks like a gerbil. Bath time has always been fun time…until recently. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still having fun. It’s me that is having some problems.

As Luke has gotten bigger he has begun bringing some “baggage” to the bathtub. It irks me beyond measure to see anything foreign floating past me, and trust me there is no shortage of sock fuzz. If that’s not enough to get me going then Luke standing up and peeing against the side of the tub is. I can feel my blood pressure rise as the fuzz circles me like a hawk and the water
turns a pale yellow.

Last night in addition to the usual, I discovered a piece of chicken floating in the water. The rogue chicken bite had apparently been stuck to his skin only to break free after being submerged. This was my breaking point. I tried not to panic and called for Brantley to get Luke out of the tub. He complied and sweetly asked, “Do you want to stay in the tub and relax for a
while?”

“Thanks but no thanks. It’s hard to relax in a petri dish.”

In a related story I’m considering adopting the YMCA’s policy of making everyone shower prior to getting in the water. You rarely see chicken floating there.

Brantley-isms

With a questioning look I asked Brantley, “why is your underwear on the floor in the hallway?”


His response, “because it fell out of my shorts when I was walking.”


‘Nuff said.

Happy Holidays!

Happy holidays from Baxter, the angry elf.

More "Good Ideas I have in the Middle of the Night"

It’s been a while since I awoke with anything of interest written on my bedside tablet, until last night...

“Consider this, if you collected all of the left over ketchup packages after a fast food outing, you could turn around and sell them on E-Bay for a profit. This idea is copyright of the Lori Wescott Ketchup Company©.”

Cha-ching! I think my ship just came in.