the rules

We've been working hard in our house to teach Husband the rules of Taking Care of Others Before Yourself. As I was growing up, we were never allowed to do anything for ourselves without asking if everyone else in the room would like the same thing. For example, if I wanted a chocolate bar from the pantry, I would have to first ask, "Brother Robby, Little Scotty, would either of you like a chocolate bar?" [to which the answer was always yes] and THEN I could proceed to procure myself some chocolate. This rule mostly applied to food and beverage. When making oneself a drink, one should ask if anyone else in the house would like a drink. When taking one's plate from the table to the sink, all other plates must be given the opportunity to join.

Here was another example of rules that Husband didn't QUITE understand when we got married. I'd ask him if I could make him a sandwich and he'd say no. NO? REALLY? No one ever says no to a sandwich. But then, seconds later, Husband would get up to make himself and drink and HE WOULDN'T ASK ME IF I WANTED ONE!? This seriously blew my mind. I think I assumed that Taking Care of Others Before Yourself was in that mystical parenting handbook that they send you home from the hospital with. I thought everyone knew the rules.

When Husband would point out to me that I already had a drink, so why did he need to offer to make me one?, I realized that it was a simple case of misunderstanding. TCoOBY has NOTHING to do with what one already has-- its the GESTURE that counts. Its acknowledging that you would be willing to take care of it if the need arose.

[Seriously, aren't you glad you are not married to me?]

So this afternoon, we had a small discussion on the rules of this particular game. It started when Husband thought he caught me disregarding the system by clearing my own plate and not asking for his [in my defense, he was still eating when I stood up].

"You cleared your plate and didn't ask if you could take mine."

"Well, you made yourself a drink and didn't ask me if I wanted one!" [Mature, I know. I never said I understand important things like communication.]

"A plate of food has greater value than a cup of soda."

"No, it doesn't. Offering someone a beverage has more weight than clearing someone's plate after they've already eaten."

"Not true."

"Babe, you don't know the rules. I'm teaching you the rules."

"I AM the rules."

technological let down

The iPhone and I are fighting.

We're at the coffee house and a hilarious exchange occurs. I had yet to post on the blog today, [BECAUSE I HAD TO READ 100 PAGES OF CHAUCER IN MIDDLE ENGLISH. MIDDLE ENGLISH.] so I was pretty excited about the gem that had fallen into my lap unexpectedly.

The thought strikes me: finally, the iPhone will be good for something. I can use the iPhone to post on the blog RIGHT NOW! How exciting! No waiting until I get back to my laptop. It will be like real-time reporting. I was already composing the post in my head. "Guess what? This story I'm about to tell you? It just happened, like 5 minutes ago. And you already get to hear about it! Hooray for the marvels of modern technology!"

So Husband grants me use of the iPhone so I can post. I notice immediately that my fingers are too fat for its little keyboard. See how society constructs an unattainable standard of body image? ONLY SKINNY-FINGERED PEOPLE CAN USE THE iPHONE. WHAT WOULD TYRA BANKS SAY ABOUT THAT?!

Then, as I'm attempting to log into the blog server, the iPhone craps out and defaults back to its home screen. I think that is the Apple equivalent of the middle finger.

Apple products officially hate me. Its not enough that Apple takes Husband away from me into the abyss of i-features. To add insult to injury, Apple discriminates against fat fingers and whiny bloggers.

Happy Dia Del Birth, Pappy!

Scene: Taco Bueno in Denton, TX

Brother Robby: So, dad, in your illustrious years on this earth, what has been your most meaningful day? Your greatest memory?

Me: Perhaps when you held your first child, nay, your only daughter, in your arms for the first time?

Brother Robby: Or the birth of your eldest son?

Little Scotty: Or the founding of Team Massive? [Team Massive is the exclusive, members-only society of muscular men. See Little Scotty to apply.]

Me: Or the day you walked your ONLY DAUGHTER down the aisle? Gave her away? Your ONLY DAUGHTER? The only time you will get to do that?

Motha!: It seems like dad isn't really getting a chance to get a word in here, guys.

The Boss: I'm having a hard time narrowing it down to just one.

Me: Which is why I'm giving you options! Birth of first child........? Walking your only daughter down the aisle.....?

Husband: It must have been the day I came into your life.

The Boss: You? Maybe your iPhone.

Da Boss

This weekend is Birthday Weekend de Boss.

[Little Scotty likes to use descriptors en Espanol. He taught me that noun de adjective/descriptive noun is a much cooler way to name something. Like, the Hobbit Hole, for example. Much cooler to say Hobbit Hole de Sister than 'my sister's apartment.']

Birthday Weekend de Boss will be a festivus previously unknown to mankind. They'll be writing poetry proclaiming its glory for centuries to come. I'm imagining fireworks and a high school band.

Just wanted to let you know what was going on, if and when you feel the shift in the cosmos that is bound to occur.

the most pathetic end to a phone conversation ever and you should know we were laughing the entire time

"Ok, I'm going to go to Panera and grade papers, so I'll talk to you later."

"Ok, bye."

"Ummmmm...... I LOVE YOU."

"You, too."

"Babe, you never say 'I love you' when we hang up anymore."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, not all the time."

"Sorry."

"Ok, well, I'll talk to you later."

"Ok. Bye."

"BABE. THAT WAS A TEST! YOU DIDN'T SAY IT AGAIN!"

"What?"

"I was testing you and you still didn't say it."

"You were what? I'm a man. You have to hit me over the head with it."

"Ok, fine. THIS IS A TEST. I'll talk to you later........"

"Ok. I LOVE YOU. Bye."

"Good job."

"Thanks."

"Now we're hanging up for real. Call me when you're coming home from work."

"Ok. Bye."

"BABE!"

"Kidding. Love you."

"You, too."

remove foot from mouth

The Boss was visiting on Thursday, and he and Brother Robby came over to eat cake with Husband and I. Anytime either The Boss or Motha! comes to visit, the other one gets a little jealous of the face time with the kids. We don't get to all be together nearly enough, and any time spent with each other is highly coveted. Motha! is always telling me about how she brags to The Boss whenever she sees us, and The Boss likes to whine about how he is always left out of the loop.

So we're all hanging out, eating cake, and Motha! calls. I immediately know that we're all in trouble. We had been hanging out for a good 15 minutes without calling Motha! to let her in on the fun. This is just not done. Motha! must be included. After telling Motha! all our favorite parts of the past 15 minutes, The Boss promised to call back. Brother Robby and I were laughing about how The Boss would be able to hold this over her head for at least a week.

Only, Husband doesn't quite understand how this whole system works. He couldn't figure out why we were saying Motha! would be so "upset."

"I mean, I really think you (The Boss) have a lot more to complain about than she does. You're just here for this one night. When she comes, she stays for DAYS."

Oops.

look what Husband made!

Not only is it a double fudge cake, but it has CHEESCAKE BITES inside.


And I would just like to rub it in by telling you that he had a piece cut and on the plate for me when I came home from class Wednesday night.