Don’t Pull Down My Underwear

“Trick Or Treat, Give Me Something Good To Eat” was supposed to happen today.  But Sandy happened instead.  She shut down everything here for the past two days.  Frankenstorm apparently wanted something BAD to eat.

The lyrics to that song end “…if you don’t, I don’t care.  I’ll pull down your underwear.”  I realize I didn’t give something good to eat.  Yet.  But I do care.  So please don’t pull down my underwear.  I vote for pantsing Sandy instead.

The song has another verse that ends “…not too big, not too small.  Just the size of Montreal.”  The piles of food in my living room are pretty much the size of Montreal!  The generous donations and words of encouragement I received have been nothing short of incredible.  I just love living in a community that is so wonderfully caring of those less fortunate!  I have Mount Royal right in my living room (That’s a mountain in Montreal.  I Googled it…don’t overestimate my knowledge of geography.).

Notice the guard cat, Mushu.  I gave strict orders to keep all kids away from the donations.  He and Bob B. McKitty take shifts and both look pretty ferocious with their glowing eyes.

In case anyone makes it past the cats, there is back-up security.  The hand has a motion sensor that triggers the fingers to wiggle.  It is jointed just like a real hand so it actually looks like it is trying to grab you.  Ain’t nobody goin’ near the food with that freaky thing around!

I must admit I’m bummed about coming up with Plan B Plan C Plan D for this event.  I’m not looking forward to figuring out how to incorporate a “trick or treat” idea into a post-Halloween event.  It may not be possible to reschedule immediately, so it may be closer to Thanksgiving than Halloween by the time it is held. Leave it to me to schedule an outdoor, community-wide event on the same day as the storm of the century.

I thought of referring to it Thanksgivoween, but my kids kept re-phrasing that to Thanksgivoweenie.  But hey, maybe I could serve turkey hot dogs and just run with that idea!  

I guess I’ll just follow the lead of retail stores and overlap holidays.

Photo: www.toilette-humor.com

It blows when things don’t work out as planned, but as long as you remember what is important, you can always weather the storm.  The treats WILL get to the children that need them, regardless of whether they are wearing costumes and saying “trick-or-treat” or if they are wearing turkey feathers and saying “I want to gobble up some treats!”  How they get the food isn’t what is important.  THAT they get the food is.

But I’m still mad at Sandy.  ________________________________________________

Many prayers go out to everyone that had much more than a trick-or-treat event ruined by Sandy.  Way too many people were not fortunate enough to avoid the havoc she wreaked.

________________________________________________

(I promise to try to start using the real camera instead of my crappy quality cell phone.  Try being the key word.)

________________________________________________

If you like what you read, please let me know.  It means a lot.  It really does! You can…

  1. FOLLOW (Email-top right, Facebook-top right, Twitter-bottom right, WordPress-black bar at top)
  2. SHARE, LIKE or COMMENT on it (at bottom)
  3. RATE it (at top)
  4. VOTE for it (links to the right, Top Mommy and Best Mom blogs)

What Happens In Greensboro Doesn’t Stay In Greensboro

Random ramblings from my weekend trip to Greensboro for a wrestling tournament with Jimmy.

ROAD-SIDE SIGHTINGS:

  • A dude cutting the antlers off a dead deer on the median.  “Look at the rack on that deer!!  Isn’t it awesome?? No, it wasn’t shot, it was hit by a car.  No, it wasn’t MY car.  But I saw it.  And I sawed it.”  Does it really bring pride to mount that on your wall?
  • Another dude riding his bicycle with no handle bars in the middle of the left lane of a busy 4 lane highway.
  • 3 dudes riding horses, also on a 4 lane highway.  Better watch out for the guy with the saw.  He may go after anything on the side of the road…
  • 2 full moons, neither was actually in the sky.  First was a little boy going number 1 at the edge of the woods.  Other was from a horse trailer.  As we followed, I worried the horse would do what the little boy was doing.  But number 2.
  • 2 horse’s asses, neither was actually a horse.  Some people take high school sports tournaments to the extreme.  They were more full of crap than the horse in the trailer.
  • 3 fushia tow trucks.  Yes, 3.  The first 2 could potentially have been the same truck that just got behind us twice but the 3rd one was a couple of hours later.  Didn’t realize fushia is such a popular color choice in the towing industry.

NEAR MISSES:

  • Car almost ran us off the road.  Billy Joel’s “Only The Good Die Young” was playing on the radio.
  • Car almost pulled out in front of us.  Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” was playing.

RESTAURANTS DINED (not a low-cal weekend):

  • Fatz restaurant which served Ozzie Rolls that were similar to Sweetwater’s (my fav restaurant) that came with CINNAMON butter.  Cinnamon! Dessert before dinner anyone??
  • Ham’s restaurant, including a Skillet Cookie.  We did at least eat this after our entrée.  

Ham’s impressively had TVs for viewing in every spot of the restaurant.  Every spot.  Including the bathroom.  A TV in the mirror.  How cool is that?

MOODY BLUES (what makes a teen angry):

  • Starving him.  One restaurant had an hour wait list.  Jimmy wanted to go pick up Burger King while we waited.  I had the gall to say no.
  • Roasting him.  The thermostat in the hotel room was a point of contention.  Jimmy’s room at home is in our basement which is freezing year round, regardless of the temperature in the rest of the house.  After I got in bed, I thought he was joking that he set it to 54 degrees.  He wasn’t.  I woke with icicles on my eyelashes.
  • Insulting him.  When trying to console him after a loss, I thought it would be comforting to remind him that the competition at this tournament was the “best of the best” but to teen ears, that meant I was telling him he sucked.
  • Waking him.  He was snoring like a chainsaw so I kept throwing pillows at him.  Luckily each bed had 4 pillows so I had lots of ammunition.  One landed on his face.  The snoring stopped.  I thought I had suffocated him.  (Yes, I did get up to take it off his face and make sure he was still breathing.)

WHAT HURTS THE MOST:

Jimmy spent most of the wrestling season last year inured with a torn shoulder and then a broken hand.  In the back of my mind, I’m worried about him being out injured again.  This tournament was one of the toughest in the country so, while I was excited for Jimmy to see what that level of competition is like, I was concerned about him getting injured before the season even starts this year.  My fears kept growing as we saw the following signs every 1/2 mile for most of the car ride…

As we got close to the tournament, we saw this exit sign.  When I see something unusual in life, I always think it is a “sign” and has a deeper meaning.  I thought this was both literally and figuratively one of those “signs.”  Especially since the tournament was held at a coliseum ON Rt. 29.

At the tournament, the medical staff had a freakin’ x-ray machine there.  Jimmy said “You know it’s a serious tournament when they need their own x-ray machine.”  I said you know it’s a bad omen when they need their own x-ray machine.  After all of the “hurt” signs, I was convinced we were doomed to a trip to the ER.

Luckily I was wrong about the impending injury.  At the end of the day, the only thing injured was his pride when he didn’t place at the tournament.

NOT-SO-INTERESTING FACT:

The 5+ hour (one way) trip was all on Rt. 29, except for about 15 minutes.  It only required making 4 turns, including the road into my neighborhood.  But I still entered it into the GPS for directions.

CHEERY CHERRY:

It was mostly a cheerful weekend.  I mean how can it be a BAD weekend when you eat at Fatz and Ham’s?  Oink, oink.

We even got to have a good laugh every time we took a ride on the elevator.  Check out the elevator inspection certificate.  Best name ever.  Commissioner Cherie Berry!  Would have made a good Batman character name.  Sure, she may pronounce it Sherie but she will always be Cherry Berry to me.  And who knew there was an “elevator bureau?”  And it has a chief.  Too bad Cherie isn’t the chief.  Chief Cherie Berry.  Now THAT would be the best name ever.

Seriously, it was nice to have one-on-one time with my teenager, especially since those moments seem to be numbered as he approaches adulthood.  Spending a weekend alone with Jimmy made me realize my kids would be wonderful “only children.”  They can apparently be very pleasant when they don’t have anyone to argue with.  😉  Except at a only-half-awake-don’t-talk-to-me 6am breakfast… Looks like he needs some coffee in that cup instead of juice.

And there are some other “perks” to road trips.  It’s a good excuse to relax after sitting in uncomfortable bleachers for 12 hours.  And Jim thinks I was being “nice” by offering to drive to NC.  “Ah, yes, I’m a saint.  I will drive one to NC while you stay home and take care of the other 3, the pets and the house.  I’m just that nice.”  

Maybe next time I’ll look for a hotel with a TV in the mirror and watch the tournament on TV from the jacuzzi.  And register as Cherie Berry.  Now THAT would be a trip.  Calgon, take me away…

________________________________________________

See that share button down there?  It would make Cherie cheery if you press it.  🙂

Give Me Something Good To Eat

 

Trick Or Treat, Give Me Something Good To Eat will take place a week from today!

Now I just cross my fingers that it all comes together ok.  In other words, I will worry incessantly that it won’t.

As soon as I pressed send for the sign-up genius, I realized just how many people will need to sign up to get enough items.  It’s a scary number. Even if the only attendees are the children that will already be at an after school activity at the school where it is being held.  Eek.

I fear that I won’t hear back about a corporate donation from Walmart.  It would need to be approved in a few days.  Nothing in the corporate world takes a few days.  Yikes.

I panicked when I realized that AOL will no longer allow me to send emails to my entire community distribution list without labeling me a spammer so I’m not able to reach out to as many people as I had hoped.

I’m apprehensive about finding enough volunteers to decorate their cars/tables and hand out treats in the middle of the week, at a hectic time of day.  It made sense to correlate the event with the other activity at the school since so many children we are trying to help will already be there, but it is a nightmare time of day – even for me.

I feel trepidation over not knowing how many children will show up.  My worst fear is seeing little faces holding out a bag and telling them we are out of food!  “Sorry little one, you get a trick.  We are out of treats.”  That would be more awful than the worst horror movie ever.

I guess Halloween really CAN be a terrifying holiday.  And not just because of the monsters.

____________________________

http://www.signupgenius.com/go/10C084CADAA28A57-trick

Hoping the only scary part of this event is the costumes and decorations! 🙂

 

 

 

McQNisms 10-19-12

Me: What did you just say???

Jake:  Uhhh…Shoot.  I just said shoot!

Jimmy:  There definitely was an I in there.

Jake:  I shoot?

________________________________________

Jimmy: (while listening to Pandora)  “Yes!  I’m going to thumbs up the crap out of this song.  Wait, that sounded really wrong.”

(For those of you not familiar with Pandora, you listen to songs and can indicate if you like it or not by clicking on a button with a thumb pointing up or a thumb pointing down.  A song came on that Jimmy REALLY likes.)

_________________________________________

Jim (texting me that he picked up a pumpkin flavored bakery treat): I got you a muffin top, pumpkin.

Me: I’ve had a muffin top for years that I can’t get rid of.  And don’t call me pumpkin.

_________________________________________

Not really a McQNism, but a voice mail message I received from Jake: “Um, hi Mom.  Um, I got in trouble in Art class for, um, twisting a guy’s nipple and I have detention Monday for it.”  I heard him cover a giggle with a cough while he was leaving the message.  Probably with the dean standing right next to him.   At least he didn’t call it a purple nurple in front of the dean.   When he got home and I tried to discuss it with him, it was obvious we were both holding back laughter.  Bad parent.  But I mean, how do you discuss a purple nurple without laughing??  I wonder if the dean was secretly chuckling also…

Blowing Chunks or Blowing Smoke?

The dreaded words first thing in the morning for me are “Mooooom, I feel like I’m going to throw up.”  The one thing that can’t be proven true or false until it is too late.  Flu?  Check for a fever.  Strep throat?  Get out the flash light.  But vomiting?  No way to know for sure.

My kids are not morning people (NO idea where they get that from…) so frequently come up with excuses for why they can’t possibly go to school that day.  Unfortunately, the excuse of choice now seems to be the threat of hurling.

You see, I used to feel confident in my ability to spot a faker.  I could smell one a mile away.  The conversation used go like this…

Me: “Time to get up for school!”

Kid: “I caaaaan’t.   I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

Me: “OK, just lay there.  Sometimes it goes away once you wake up.” (Hope: they will forget and in a few it will just be a normal yawn, not a technicolor one.)

Me (5 minutes later): “Time to get up for school!”

Kid: “I caaaaan’t.  I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

Me: “Ok, get up. Quick!  Go stand over the toilet!” (Hope: that standing over the porcelain god will make them realize they don’t want to pray to it.)

Kid (5 minutes later): “I didn’t throw up…but I still feel like I might.”

Me: “Let’s go eat some toast.” (Hope: if he doesn’t lose his breakfast, he won’t ‘lose his lunch’)

Kid (after eating the entire piece): “It didn’t help.”

Me: “Eat this cookie.” (Hope: if you can eat a cookie, you won’t toss your cookies.)

Me (after cookie is inhaled): “Time to get dressed.”

Kid: “I caaaan’t.  I still feel like I’m going to throw up.”

Me: “Nope, the cookie always works.  It’s a fact.  Let’s go.” (Hope: throwing out absolutes like ‘always’ and ‘fact’ make it clear the throwing up conversation is over.)

Fast forward to after school…

Me: “What’s up, Chuck?  How was your day.”

Kid: “Great.  But who’s Chuck?”

This scenario replayed time and time again.

Until the day it didn’t.

Within 5 minutes of arriving at school, it happened.  I won’t say who it happend to, because it is still a touchy subject.  But he threw up.  In his classroom.  In front of all of his classmates.  All over the place.  It wasn’t fake this time.

I was mortified when I got the call.  When I arrived at school, I got the one-eyebrow-raised look, along with the words  “He said he told you he was sick this morning.”  Yep, he did.  For the 5th time this month.   The other 4 times I was RIGHT.  Can’t we just focus on that??

I wanted to start spouting “the boy who cried wolf” life lessons but instead rushed to the car with my tail between my legs.  Guilt mounted as I listened to a regurgitation (pun intended) of every itty bitty minute detail of what happened.  I started to feel sick to MY stomach over the incident.  Not because of the grossness, but the humiliation!

Since then, the conversation has changed to…

Me: “Time to get up for school!”

Kid: “I caaaan’t.  I feel like I’m going to throw up!”

Me (while already dialing the school absentee line): “OK, sweetie.  Feel better and get back to sleep!”

Unfortunately, kids can smell fear a mile away.  They know I’m terrified of a repeat of the catastrophe.  That my “faker” radar is broken.

The frequency of “sick days” keeps increasing.  But every time, they are out of bed and fine by 10am.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m thankful they aren’t puking all day.  I don’t want them to be puking.  I just want them to be not puking AT SCHOOL.

I just know the first time I push one of them out the door, I’m going to get the dreaded call.  And the dreaded look.  And the dreaded guilt.  So they stay home. “Sick.”

I’m not sure how many more of these days I can stomach.  I need a way to know if they are truly nauseous or if it is just another nauseating attempt to sleep in.  I have no patience with the patient once it is obvious that they are, in fact, well.  By the end of the day, I’m so annoyed that I got suckered again that I should probably call it a “sick of YOU day!”

Maybe I should send them to school with a note that says “Watch under.  He may chunder!”

________________

Does anyone else have problems with kids staying home from school for not-so-sick days??

Trick or Treat, Don’t Smell My Feet

I couldn’t sleep last night because of thinking about my “game plan.” Those that know me know I am quite obsessed with “special occasions” like birthdays and holidays.  I believe that a kids’ most vivid memories usually involve those special times (at least mine do) so I think it is important that they be as special as possible!

Those special occasions are a big part of the “Chance” ideas I have.  “Blow Out The Candles” was my initial idea…for birthdays, obviously.  Every child should be able to have a birthday cake and gift (and ideally a party!).  I’ve had my Halloween idea, “Trick or Treat, Give Me Something Good To Eat” in my mind for a couple of weeks but kept thinking it was too much to try to take on right now.  Just like I’ve been doing for the past 10 years!

The “I can’t” thoughts were taking over, as usual.  But then I realized I was making it about me.  I didn’t know if I’d have time to do all the work that would be required to do this.  I didn’t want to be embarrassed if it wasn’t successful.  I didn’t want to risk looking like a failure.  I, I, I.  Me, me, me.

But it isn’t about me!  It is about helping.  It is about trying.  It is about something I feel compelled to do.  Plus, I realized I don’t have to do this alone.  I can ask for help!  This morning we contacted our church for some guidance on how to get the ball rolling.  And I now have a whole BLOG full of help.  I’ve spent 10 years saying “I’ll do it tomorrow or next week or next year.”  Time to just do it now.

Yes, I know you are thinking “2 weeks Angela??”  I’m thinking that too.  But I work best under pressure.  OK, not really.  But that sounds better than saying I’m a procrastinator.

“Give me something good to eat” will combine trick or treating and a fun food drive of sorts.

Kids love trick or treating on Halloween.  Some kids (many more than you think!) don’t have enough food to eat on a regular basis (I recently saw it referred to as “food insecurity” or not having enough money to buy a sufficient amount of food).

Photo: pinterest.com

My hope is to set up in the parking lot of a local school (that has a shockingly high percentage of children living with food insecurity!) and have people set up a decorated table (or the back of their car or simply just stand there with a bucket!) on the Sunday before Halloween. The kids will go from table to table to table just like trick or treating but will get fun snack-type items (such as granola bars, mini boxes of cereal, fruit cups, etc) instead of candy.  Snack foods that may be the only food in their house.  Ideally I’d like to also have a costume collection so the kids can pick out something to wear on Halloween!

I’m not sure HOW to do this but I decided that if I don’t do anything, no one will be helped.  If I try to do something, worst case scenario is no one will be helped.  But best case is that a lot of people – a lot of KIDS – will be helped.

It could turn out that my family is standing alone in a parking lot with a bucket of food and no one to give it to.  Or my family could be standing alone in a parking lot giving out a bucket of food to a few people.  Or my family could be standing with a bunch of families from the community giving out buckets of food to a line of people.  Or a bunch of families from a bunch of communities all over the place could be standing in a bunch of parking lots giving out buckets of food to a bunch of lines of people.  You just never know

Regardless, trying to do something will never have a worse outcome than doing nothing.  And now that I have a blog as my “voice,” I feel I must at least try.  I know there are others out there that want to help but don’t know how.  I just know it!

More information to come.  I probably didn’t explain this very well because I typed this post very quickly.  I type fast when I’m excited…and scared.  But I wanted to get something posted before I had a chance to back out.  Once it’s in writing, there’s no turning back, right??

This all depends on finding a place to hold this and being able to contact the right people in the short timeframe.  So stay tuned.  If it isn’t possible for this year, I will try not to be disappointed.  I will try to look at it as having a year to plan.  (And then I will probably be sending out information 2 weeks before…again.)

For now, I need you!!!  Add a comment with your ideas!  Think about how you would want to be involved.  Would you want to hand out treats?  Would you want to donate treats for someone else to hand out?  Do you have costumes your kids have outgrown?  Could you help spread the word to others you think would want to help (or need to be helped)?  My email address is angelamcqn@aol.com if you don’t have a WordPress account (you need one to leave a comment here).  Or you can message me your input at www.facebook.com/Momopolize or www.twitter.com/Momopolize.  (I just figured out yesterday that you can send messages on Twitter. I am waaaaay behind the times.)

And yes, I do realize the entire song is…

“Trick or Treat.  Smell my feet.  Give me something good to eat.  If you don’t, I don’t care.  I’ll pull down your underwear.”

I assure you there will be no feet smelling or underwear pulling.

Delay of Game

I first thought about starting a blog website 10 years ago.  But I didn’t.  And now I’m kicking myself for waiting so long.  I’m so far behind in the race now, I don’t know how to ever catch up.

Ten years ago I had a community email distribution list.  I loved it.  I shared all kinds of information from concerts to playgroups, charity fundraisers to neighborhood crime, summer camps to missing pets.  You know, community stuff.

I loved writing the emails and I loved feeling like I was bringing the community together, even in just a small way.  The distribution list started as just my neighborhood and as it grew to surrounding cities and towns, my ideas grew.  My game plan grew.  I wanted to bring people together in a big way.

But my doubts and insecurities also grew.  It’s one thing to send out informal emails.  When you keep expectations low and simple, you don’t have far to fall if things don’t go as you want.  When you tell everyone your grandiose ideas, you set yourself up for not just a possible fall, but a possible FAIL.

When I joined Facebook, my distribution list eventually went away.  As more and more of the people on my email list were also on my FB friend list, I turned my focus to Facebook.  And then as I realized there was a group or a page for pretty much everything anyone could ever want to know, my need to share information seemed to fade away too.

Yes, the list went away.  But my ideas didn’t.  I still felt the need to create some kind of global “community.”  Some way for people to connect.  Some way for people to help each other.  But I didn’t know how.  I didn’t know where to start.  I didn’t know what to do.  So I didn’t.  For ten whole years, I didn’t.

But I wanted to.  I even had a name for it.  “Momopoly: The Real Game Of Life.”  It would include Community Chest, an online community to share information.  Chance for those in need of one.  Reading Railroad for an online book club.  Get Out Of Jail Free for a place to vent and talk about your struggles without judgement.  The list went on…

Unfortunately, I waited so long that when I finally decided to start my blog…the name Momopoly had already been used.  Twice.  Of course it had.  What did I expect by waiting 10 years without doing anything about my idea while millions of others were jumping on the blogging train?

It’s one of those times you wish you could turn back the clock.  Have a do-over.  Give me a Mulligan please!!   Why did I wait so long?  By this point, there probably aren’t ANY original ideas left.

However, I did manage to find a blog name that hadn’t been used.  And Momopolize began.  Not my first choice, but it will work.  It is close enough to Momopoly that I still could potentially use the “Real Game Of Life”  concept.  We’ll see.

And the more I try to learn about the blogging rules, the more I realize writing is actually a small part of it.  Getting followers is as much work as trying to be a first round draft pick.  And without droves of followers, even the best ideas are futile.

So where do I go from here with Momopolize?  Will I keep it simple and safe?  Or try to bring my ideas into play?  I don’t know.  But I will stay in the game.  Even if I joined the team 10 years too late.

Photo: flickr.com

If You Give A Kid A Bag Of Pancake Mix

Jake:  Can I make some Krusteaz pancakes?  (That’s the pancake mix brand but Jake says it more like Crustyass).

Jake:  How many should I make?  12-14 or 18-21?

Me:  Depends how hungry you are.

Jake:  I’m going to share too.

Me:  Then make the biggest batch size.

Jake:  There’s one for 260-280 pancakes.

Me:  That should be good.

Jake:  Where’s the cord for the griddle?  What temperature?  Is this bowl ok? Where’s a spatula? Where’s the wisk? What are the instructions?  Where on the bag?  (I nodded, pointed and held up fingers to answer)

Jake: So did you say I should do 18-21?

Me:  If that’s what you heard, sure.

Jake:  Where’s the griddle? (Yes, one would think that question would have been asked when he looked for the cord.).  Why isn’t the griddle in the same cabinet as the cord?

Me:  We like to keep you guessing.

Jake:  Can I make chocolate ones?

Jake: Can I add chocolate chips too? (more nodding)

Jake:  What the heck??  They are Buttermilk pancakes but the recipe doesn’t have any milk???

Me:  Weird, huh?  Some recipes just add water.

Jake:  I don’t care what the recipe says.  I’m adding milk.  Buttermilk pancakes have to have milk.  And butter.  And Ovaltine.

Me:  You rebel.

Eric:  Owww!  Moooom, Jake threw something at my foot.

Jake:  No I didn’t.  The wisk fell out of the bowl.

Me:  Eric, if he was going to throw it at you, he wouldn’t aim for your foot.

Jake: I can’t get all the lumps out.

Me:  Those are chocolate chips.

Jake:  Was I supposed to turn the griddle on?

Me:  You did.

Jake:  But it’s off now.

Me:  It does that when it gets hotter than 350 and then turns back on when it cools off.

Jake:  That’s dumb.  Why can’t it just stay at 350?

Me:  It likes to keep you guessing also.

Jake:  It turned back on.  You can relax now people.

Jake:  Why are you typing?

Me:  I’m writing my blog.

Jake:  You aren’t writing a blog about me making pancakes are you?

Me:  Pssh, no.

Jake:  Was I supposed to Pam this?

Me:  No, Pam doesn’t need to help.

Jake:  Moooom, they are burning.  Oh, nevermind.  I forgot they are brown because they are chocolate.

Jake:  I made a straight long one.  Who ever said pancakes have to be round?

Me:  Well, the “pan” part kind of implies the shape.  You really are a rebel.

Jake:  It only made 6 pancakes and the batter is already gone.

Me:  That’s because they didn’t expect you to make them the size of the entire griddle.

Jake:  I can’t flip it.  Where’s a back-up spatula?  I need 2.  Oh man, it ripped.  Can I glue it?

Me:  Yes, but call it icing.

This one either needs a nose job…or is an Angry Bird!

McQNisms: Don’t Get The Water Gun Wet (and More)

This is my first post of McQNisms – funny little tidbits of our lives that aren’t quite enough to be a post on their own, so I’ll combine a bunch into one.

Why “McQNisms?”  That’s how our last name, McKeown, is pronounced.  Mc-Q-N.  Many of you that know me in real life are probably reading this right now saying “THAT is how you are supposed to say it??”  We are so used to it being pronounced incorrectly, we just answer to anything now.  McKeon or McKnown or McQueen or McKeeOwwIn or – my favorite – McCowin.  Just think of it like JR Ewing from Dallas.  But with a “Mick” at the front and no “guh” at the end.

I wish I had funnier ones for the inaugural McQNisms…but this week it’s all I got!  I even had to recycle a couple of old Facebook statuses.

____________________

Me:  You left the bin of Super Soakers outside and it is raining!  They are going to get ruined.

Photo: mediaite.com

Eric:  Mom, they are water guns. And you are telling me not to let them get wet…

Touché, Eric.  Touché.

____________________

While Jimmy was listening to “Dude looks like a lady” by Aerosmith, Eric asks “Is that about Justin Bieber?”

_____________________

Photo: chopra.com

Discussion about Jake’s teammate that had to leave their football game because of an injury (since then we’ve found out he has a concussion but is ok)…

Jake:  They wanted him to go to the emergency room because he hit his head pretty hard.  They said it wasn’t good because he was seeing colors.

(Greg gets a look of horror on his face)

Greg: But I see colors all the time!

_______________________

As I was getting ready to go to back to school night at the high school…

Me: I think I just go straight to your first block class, right?

Jimmy: I don’t know.  Didn’t you go to back to school night the past 2 years?

Me: Yes, but all I remember is feeling lost.

Jimmy:  You just described my entire Freshman year.

Photo: collegeotr.com

_________________________

Don't ask me about my kids or I will Momopolize the conversation!