Stupid Things I Say

"No, please do not lick the wall like that.  See how you're leaving tongue prints.  Mama doesn't like that."

"I'm going to go call the vet.  I'm pretty sure the horse is dead, but I see that you don't all agree."  (Gotta hate love office meetings.)

"I was just thinking... during sex you need wrist guards and I must look like Tyrannosaurus Rex trying to keep my breasts in place."  (File this under things that are least appropriate... if there is a good time at all... to say during sex.)

Stupid Things I Say

Me:  "I want to be Hasidic and grow those curly things." *making curlicue gestures near the sides of my face*
Tom:  "I could grow a beard."
Me:  "With the change of life coming my way, so could I.  It's gonna be great!"
Tom: *nervous laughter and quick glances between the road and me*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Me to me:  "Note to self:  Dipshit, not shithead.  Wait!  Calling your beloved niece either one of those to her mom isn't going to be better, even if there was an ultimately eloquent point you were trying to make."

(More) Stupid Things I Say

To the head of a large motor company in the midst of a big business event:  "Thank you (for fixing my collar).  I changed my shirt twice on the way over here tonight."  Like that wasn't enough, I had to expand on it.  "I wore this shirt to work today, but changed as I was heading over here.  Then I realized I'd popped a button off and had to go through it all again."

To a very serious request for suggestions for volunteer activities for foreign exchange students on the local mommy group board:  "I suppose it would be inappropriate to suggest that the students volunteer to put sprinklers in my backyard, right? How 'bout a patio cover? Playing with my kids so I can get something done around here?  Seriously though, I hope you find what you need. I would love to host, but the spare bed we have is a sleeper sofa in the loft. I've already seen my father-in-law in his underwear this year and can't risk any more trauma."

Stupid Things I Say

This could probably be the running gag of my blog if I let it, but I try to keep the public acknowledgement of my lameness to a minimum.  Of course, if you've been hanging around a while, you'll know I'm not exactly successful.

Me to Tom:  You suck the joy out of everything.

And what is this everything from which Tom sucked the joy?

Steam cleaning the carpet.