a quote for The Boss

While revising my art paper, I listened to the Republican debate, which Husband had on in the background. This little zinger from Mitt Romney had to be posted to the blog immediately, just for the The Boss.

"You know, I've gotten to know these guys over these debates. This is, what? Our 6th? 7th? But its a bit like Law & Order, isn't it Senator? There's a huge cast, it goes on forever, and Fred Thompson shows up at the end."

And somewhere, a young Romney staffer just got a raise.

amended

Brother Robby pointed out something quite revealing regarding the previous post.

"What you did leave out, however, is that The Boss is exempt from any and all Favorite Part conversations, except of course to mock and cause discord in any and all Favorite Part Dialouge."

Its true. The Boss is the one person who can manipulate the rules of Favorite Part. Maybe that's where Husband gets his disobedient ways?

Favorite Part

In my family, we have a game. Its called Favorite Part.

All our lives, Motha! would end any family event or get together by asking all of us, "what was your favorite part?" When we came home from a trip, we knew to prepare our Favorite Parts. When we participated in an activity at school, we quickly determined a Favorite Part. Family vacation? Favorite Part increased to a daily activity. Sometimes more than once a day. We'd get back from a meal or even a movie, and there would be the question. "What was your favorite part?" was the anthem of my adolescence.

When I married Husband, we quickly indoctrinated him into the rules of Favorite Part. When we were dating and would go home for a weekend, he'd have to tell his Favorite Part by Sunday afternoon. It was like training camp. I had to teach Husband that part of Favorite Part is that you always reciprocate the question. When someone asks you your Favorite Part, you must also ask for theirs. Sometimes Husband forgets this precept and I am forced to sit in silence until he remembers. He seems to love torturing me by "forgetting" how Favorite Part works.

Throughout our marriage, Husband and I have always laughingly asked one another for our Favorite Part, and it always leads to a good discussion of whatever we've just finished doing. [That Motha! knows her stuff.] Last night on the way home from the airport, I couldn't wait to hear his take on our trip to New York.

"So babe, what was your favorite part?"

"Ummmm.... seeing Kim and Mike."

"That cannot be a favorite part. Its not a specific moment or activity. You know the rules of Favorite Part. You must specify a particular moment or event for your favorite part. For example, you could say that playing Wii with Kim was your favorite part. Do you see the difference?"

"There is no difference. While playing Wii with Kim, I was seeing Kim. Its the same thing. You're arguing semantics."

"There IS a difference. Seeing Kim and Mike is not a part. We were doing that the whole time. It was the very purpose of our trip. The purpose of a trip cannot be a favorite part."

"You can't tell me my favorite part. You can't fit my favorite part into your mold."

"Those are the rules of Favorite Part. I didn't make them. I just enforce them."

traveling to new york, by the numbers

1.5
number of hours our flight out of Oklahoma City was delayed [it was supposed to leave at 6:30 am, BY THE WAY]

4
number of hours we had already been awake by the time our flight left Oklahoma City [AT 8:00 AM]

10
total number of hours spent traveling after being re-routed from Memphis to Detroit and finally into Newark

5
number of states we saw in one day [Oklahoma, Tennessee, Michigan, New Jersey, New York]

0
number of calories consumed between 4:00 am and 5:30 pm [no time for eating when you are running to catch planes]

1
number of bags lost by airline, who decided to send my bag from OKC to Memphis to Detroit to Newark

14
number of hours after arriving in Newark that my bag reached me

1
number of waterbottles purchased immediately after arriving in Newark, dehydrated and nauseated

2
number of times I had to ask Mike to stop the car on the way home [their new car is pretty and didn't need any "decoration" from me]

at least 5
number of times I "decorated" Mike's parents' driveway as we were pulling up to the house

[Yeah, Thursday was a bit rough for me. That was definitely the single worst flying experience of my life. Luckily, today was much better than yesterday. Today, we went to Manhattan! Yay! It was Husband's first time, and I made him take all the obligatory New York pictures, which he LOVED, of course!]

she gets me

I've been a little stressed the past few days. I suddenly have a ton of stuff on my plate. I'm excited about everything that I'm dealing with, but its becoming a bit..... burdensome.

My friend, Liz, stopped by my office today for the usual small talk before she had to teach. I think she could tell I was on my way to losing it.

"Are you ok?"

"Well, yeah. I just have a lot to do and I'm leaving in the morning and won't be back until Sunday night and I don't know when I'm going to get all this reading done and..." [I'll just stop there and spare you the rest of the drama]

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, its ok. I'll just sit here and obsess. You know me. I obsess."

"Well, at least you have a hobby."

you can't make this stuff up

I often babysit for my friend, Ellen. Her three-year-old son, Ben, is the most hilarious kid. Last week, I watched Ben while Ellen and her husband went for an ultrasound. While there, they found out that they are expecting a second baby boy. Hooray!

I asked Ellen this morning if Ben understands the whole "new baby" thing. She said that he doesn't talk much about it, but every once in a while he will say "baby" or "brother."

"However," she said, "he did have an answer when we asked him what we should call his new brother."

"Yeah? What did he say?"

"Dot org."

the only appropriate thing to write about on this day

Welcome, October! Its good to see you. I wish you were bringing a little more cold weather [85 degrees?! in October?!], but all in all its nice to have you back.

You should know, October, that you belong exclusively to The Boss. You, October, are The Boss's* birthday month.

[Yes, you read that correctly. Others get a birthday weekend. Some only get a birthday. The Boss gets a birthday month. The world is as it should be.]

[Because, let's face it, when you pay for a wedding, you deserve a daily foot massage.]

In fact, The Boss is the original owner of birthday privileges. He taught us what it means to be the birthday boy. During the month of October, he does not go a second without a Diet Dr. Pepper in his hand. He is the prince of October. While it may seem like toil to cater to someone's every whim during their birthday month, the efforts of The Boss in teaching us all about the birthday month allowed the rest of us to act like royalty in our own respective birthday months. See? He's just making sure he teaches us those valuable life lessons. For one month out of every year, I got to boss around my brothers and not feel bad about it. And I am forever thankful for that.

So, pull up a chair, October. It's going to be a great month, a celebration of The Boss.

Happy Birthday month, Dad!


*Lest anyone try to argue with me over the dilemma of Boss' versus Boss's, I LOOKED IT UP. I am right. Deal.