How To Get A Boy's Attention

The answer is simple.
Get in the bathtub.

I'm not usually a bathtub kind of gal, but when I decide to take one I hang out for a while and relish the peace and quiet.  I put my iPad in a big plastic baggie and read my books on it while I soak in the hot water.
It is lovely.

Well, it's supposed to be lovely.

It is a guarantee that at least two out of three boys in my house will have the need to come in and talk to me about something.  Rarely are these somethings that are an emergency - but you knew that.

And as I always think I am freezing to death, the bathroom heaters are on full blast to keep me warm.  Don't worry about shutting the door, honey.  I'd like to heat up the rest of the house too.

But sometimes they do shut the door (without me yelling it out).  During these times it is also inevitable that one or both dogs will follow the boys into my bathroom and end up trapped in there with me.

Snicker thinks it is too hot and starts pacing around the bathroom.  Doodle just stands there and stares at me without blinking.  It's hard to relax with this in your face.

Whatcha doin?

What happened to my peaceful moment?
Boys.

In the past, I haven't locked the door in case someone really needed to talk to me.  I tried to just pretend this was part of family life.  As of yesterday, it is no longer part of family life.  Doors are no longer made to be opened.

Operation LOCK THE DOOR is going into effect immediately.

Something about an 8 year old boy walking in and staring at you will make you think twice about an open door policy.

Something about an 8 year old boy laughing and pointing at you telling you your b00bies look funny will make you never forget to lock a door.

Not that I would know.
It's just a story I once heard.


~ Mrs. Priss






who can't keep the boys away...

I'm so happy I could PMP (Pee My Pants)

Today is the birthday of a very close friend of mine.  In her honor, I'm going to repost (from my personal blog) one of my favorite girlfriend stories of all time.  I think you will see why.

***

The story I'm going to tell you today is one that happened about 6 years ago. Some of you have heard me tell it before, but many of you haven't. Every single bit of it is true. I'm certain you've never had a shopping experience like this before. Hopefully this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for me as well.

I can promise I will remember every vivid detail of it forever and plan to tell it to my comatose roommate when I'm 99 and sitting in the nursing home. The ick factor is high but the funny factor is higher (to me).

I was hanging out with a very good friend of mine - we will call her "Amy" - who had never been to a certain mega-store so we decided to go shopping while Doc agreed to watch all of the kids.  Doc's a great guy and all but an offer like this is a rarity.  The opportunity was a delightful surprise!

When we arrived at the store, we started loading our shopping cart and "Amy" mentioned a slight urge to go pee. Although we both needed to go we were worried about our time slipping away and decided to try clothes on first.  The Doc was very specific about the amount of time he would babysit.

We were sharing the big dressing room when the whole thing started. "Amy" lost her balance and fell face first on the carpet with her jeans halfway down on her knees. Of course we both start laughing so hard that no sound comes out. I immediately moved to a squatter position to avoid an accident.  You know, the one where you sit on your heel so you don't wet yourself?  But poor "Amy" was too late.

Dare I mention that we were not the only ones in the dressing area?

As she stood up in the dressing area, I could hear it - and it made me laugh even more. It sounded like someone was pouring a pitcher of water on to the floor! The more I heard, the more I laughed... and the more "Amy" laughed, the more she peed.  At this point, we were laughing so hard that no noise came out.

But then it gets better.

While trying to gain control of her bodily functions and still laughing the silent laugh... she farts.
Then the pee starts flowing freely all over again as we laugh even harder.

This seemed to last a lifetime but who really knows how long before we could regain composure long enough to discuss the predicament we were now in. I still needed to pee and had to stop laughing in order to finally stand back up. "Amy" finally stood up and found that one whole side of her jeans was covered in pee, plus her underwear and her socks.

The restroom was on the opposite side of the building.

Her first whispered words were, "What do I do now?"
My first thought was to buy new jeans and underwear, but she wouldn't even consider it. After all, then everyone would KNOW the horrible thing that just happened (not that I wasn't going to tell anyway).

So she pulled her jeans back up and we headed across to the bathroom (with our shopping cart) to figure things out there. Once in the bathroom, she trashed the soaking wet undies but would not give up the socks. THE SOCKS! They were soaked, but she informed me that they were Ralph Lauren and therefore... not disposable. The socks went to the underneath part of our shopping cart to be hidden until departure.

She was taking so long in the bathroom (even though she had nothing left) that I thought maybe there was something more for her to do - so I left and told her to meet me outside the door. I had already heard her fart and didn't want to stick around for more of the same.

One minute later "Amy" exits the bathroom and informs me that the problem has only gotten worse. She started. And you know what she started. So now she is covered in pee AND freely flowing without undies to help. She gets some supplies and hopes for the best.

And you'll never guess what happened next. Would you believe that we shopped anyway? Any mom with a desperate need to get out with a girlfriend might understand - especially if you have very young kidlets.  By the time we left the store, her jeans were dry. I'm really grossed out thinking about that now but I swear at the time it made sense to us. Free childcare and all.

We passed the dressing room at one point and overheard a customer telling her friend, "Something in there really stinks!" Giggle, giggle. We knew exactly what stink was in there. We had short bursts of laughter every time we looked at each other because of our little secret. If we paused to look at something I would catch a whiff of the urine smell and we would start laughing all over again.

At the end of our shopping, we made some purchases and headed for the car. I remember thinking that I was glad we were in Doc's car so I didn't have the pee in mine. As we settled in the car, "Amy" realized she had left something very important behind. She left her peed on but treasured Ralph Lauren socks in the bottom of the cart. But this... THIS... was the thing she was too embarrassed to go back for.

Some lucky person got some free socks, but I doubt they kept them.

Have you ever peed your pants as an adult?
Not me.

~ Mrs. Priss

Keeping my socks on like...

National Humor Month

I never knew that April was National Humor Month. Heck, I never knew there was even such a thing as National Humor Month. We all love a little humor. Don't we? I mean, if you don't then you might want to just mosey along. Because, at my expense, I'm going to share with you one of my top 3 funniest stories. I really hope you can find humor in POOP. I figured if Baloney can post about poop here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here, then I can post about it HERE! Plus, those who know me really appreciate my transparency. At least that's what they tell me anyway. =)

Back before I met my Hubba, Hubba, Hunk 'O Burnin' Love, I lived in Guymon, OK. It is the metropolis of the Oklahoma Panhandle. That's to say it is the biggest town in the middle of the Oklahoma Panhandle (which still isn't very big). I lived there for two years.

Not long after moving to Guymon, I met a cute guy, E, who just so happened to be a dispatcher for the Oklahoma Highway Patrol. My dad was a 2nd Lieutenant for Troop-I headquarters, and because I was new to the area, I found myself hanging out there quite a bit.

The first time I walked into Troop-I, E just happened to be working. He was friendly to me. It was nice to meet a friendly person since I was feeling very alone that far away from home. Those of you that are Okies know that the Panhandle of Oklahoma is nothing like the rest of the state.....it's a bit of a culture shock.

Our conversation led to why I moved and transferred from Northeastern State University to Oklahoma Panhandle State University. He asked me what classes I was enrolled in, etc. I told him I was enrolled in Algebra and that I had ALREADY taken Intermediate Algebra twice while at NSU. Friends, if you don't know this already, Intermediate Algebra is the class you take that prepares you for College Algebra. Yeah, to say I suck at algebra is to put it nicely. Any-who, he graciously offered to tutor me to help me pass the course. What's a lonely, new-to-the-area girl to do? Exactly!

The tutoring soon turned into more than just algebra. We went from teacher/student to boyfriend/girlfriend quickly. E really was a great guy (until he asked his ex-girlfriend, now wife, on a date about 9 months later.)

He was the kind of guy who loved helping anyone and everyone out. He was a bit obsessive and very much a type-A personality. For example, whenever he would travel somewhere, he would always try to beat his previous time. Does your man do this? If you're a man, I guess this is some sort of sport. If you're a woman, it's some sort of inhumane torture. Everyone knows that a man can hold his bladder much longer than a woman!

Okay, okay. I know you're saying, "Get on with the story, Mrs. Albright!"

We decided, not long after we were dating, that we'd drive to Pryor to visit my mom. She hadn't met my new boyfriend yet. It normally takes a person about 7.5 hours to get from Guymon to Pryor. I'm sure he had already calculated the miles and a time to beat in his head before we ever left Guymon.

Now let me tell you, we were not far enough along in our relationship that we were comfortable discussing bathroom habits. The thought of passing gas in front of him would have made me blush Merle Norman red and my face burn like anthracite.

Here's where it gets a little personal. For years I had been afflicted with IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome). Ever heard of it? Ever had it? Ever been embarrassed by it? If so, I'd love to hear about it because I swear I've never heard a more embarrassing story than my own. I'd love to feel not so alone in my embarrassment.

We drove 2 hours to Woodward, OK and stopped to eat at Braum's. (For those of you not in OK, Braum's is like THE BEST ice cream/dairy/hamburger place.) I should have known better, but I ate a cheeseburger and fries. I was hungry, okay?! He kept looking at his watch while we were eating and then finally said we needed to go so he could beat the time he'd previously made from Guymon to Oklahoma City. I ate quickly.

We had no more than made it two miles down the road until my stomach started making some all-too-familiar noise. I tried to put the sound and fear of what could happen out of my head. Then I started having sharp pains. In my head, I was trying to come up with how on earth I was going to tell him I needed to stop and use the restroom. I mean, I had JUST used the restroom at Braum's not more than 5 minutes earlier.

I had a death grip on the door handle; my knuckles were WHITE! I was trying hard NOT to pass gas. I knew just one little passage could be a bad, bad thing, for more than one reason.

Just as we were leaving the city limits, I told him I really needed to go to the restroom. He reminded me that I had JUST been to the bathroom. I said, "Ummm, yeah, but my stomach isn't feeling so good."

It's important that I let you know that it was after dinner time and it was already dark outside.

He just looked at me and told me the next town was 13 miles away and asked if I could wait until then. I wanted to cry. I'd pretty much lost all feeling to every part of my body except for my stomach and rear. Do you know how hard it is to hold "it?" Of course you do. My stomach was no longer making little noises, it was sounding like overalls in a clothes dryer. And, it felt like it too!

I managed to mumble, "I'll try."

I think I made it two more miles before I finally told him I needed to go to the bathroom right then. He looked over at me with the blankest look and asked, "Right now?" He informed me there were no bathrooms for about 10 more miles. I told him he was just going to have to pull over because I could no longer wait.

He asked me where on earth did I want him to pull over? I told him to turn at the next side road.

He turned down a gravel road and started driving. I was thinking, "When the heck is he going to stop? If he doesn't stop soon, or if he hits one more pothole, the flood gates of hell were going to be opened wide!"

I finally just said, "STOP!" He said, "Right here? It's not very far off the highway." I told him that if he didn't stop right then I was going in my pants! THAT got his attention.

He stopped and I jumped out, my pants already undone, and ran to the front of the truck (because it blocked me from the highway). I squatted down and held onto the bumper and pooped and pooped and pooped! After the cramping had stopped and I felt certain the meals from the past three days were no longer in me, I asked him to get in my suitcase and get the roll of toilet paper out. (When you have IBS you always travel with some sort of tissue!)

He walked just to the front edge of the truck and handed the toilet paper over the top of the hood to me. I wiped, buttoned up and got in the truck.

You would think that what I just shared would have been the embarrassing part. Yes, that much was embarrassing, but it got worse.

Instead of just driving forward and turning around, he flipped on his lights and...... BACKED UP!!!!! OH, YES, HE DID!!! If I could have wiggled my nose and disappeared at that moment I would have! Because there, in the spotlight of the headlights, was my pile of poo!

I didn't say a word. He didn't say a word. We drove without saying a word for 30 minutes.

I felt my face beating RED the whole time. I tried to think of something funny to say, but nothing would come out. I'm pretty sure I left everything, including my voice, my mind and my dignity back there on that dirt road.

I just kept thinking that this was going to be the longest trip to Pryor EVER! (So much for his sport of beating his driving time!) From his silence I'd convinced myself that he was ticked because I'd messed up his time record. I was certain he would break up with me just as soon as he could. I thought of all the worst case scenarios.

But, just as I was sure I'd pass out from embarrassment, he looked over at me and in a very matter-of- fact manner said....

"That was one healthy SH*T you just took!"

I laughed and I laughed and I laughed. Laughing never felt so good.

Happy National Humor Month!

~Mrs. Albright~