Monday, February 2, 2015

D'Oh! That was stupid!

Those stupid, ridiculous know the ones I'm referring to my dear friends and blog readers; those bursts of higher intelligence when the earth stops on its axis for a split second and you think to yourself, "Did I seriously just do that? What an idiot!"  And of course there's the bigger, looming question, "Oh dear God, did anyone see me do it!?"

We're all guilty of the occasional gaff and even allowed a critical lapse of judgement every once in awhile; however, I've discovered that some people don't get caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar.  I find this unfair. This blog is dedicated to those people who, like myself, always seem to have crumbs, not only on our faces, but bits and pieces of cookies stuck in our teeth as we're vehemently denying any involvement in the notorious cookie jar heist.


D'Oh!  That was stupid!

My son Austynn is currently sixteen years old.  He, God bless him, is a notorious liar. Not only is he an exceedingly bad fibber, but when the proof is glaringly obvious (as in the cookie jar analogy above), he still refuses to accept responsibility for his actions. One example is that he's brilliant but terrifying.  He loves electricity to the point of becoming an adolescent Dr. Frankenstein.  He is NOT allowed to have anything battery operated.  If so he's been known to disassemble it, strip the wiring and create sparks...OOOH FIRE!

Electric Glow Ball
Two years ago, on a quiet Sunday afternoon, Eric and I were jolted out of our bedroom by the smell of electricity and smoke.  Keep in mind that Austynn has no battery operated toys and NO DOOR. These have been removed after the last fire he started with a battery he found outside. My husband and I started yelling at the boys, "Who's done what?!"  They protested their innocence.  We started checking the walls for heat worrying about the wiring and then I walked past Austynn's room and IT hit me; the unmistakable smell of burnt carpet and electricity. I followed my nose to his closet and there it was, traces of what had been a stomped out carpet fire. I found remnants of burned tissues, a couple of pennies, a paper clip and his electric glow ball.  D'oh! REDRUM (Murder spelled backwards)! His response, "I DIDN'T DO IT!"  No, I suppose the dog did in his incredible canine capacity. It was all I could do not to commit maternal homicide.

Another Austynn classic.  This one happened just last week which is actually quite amazing that I'm typing this historical account and not sitting in some jail cell or tied up in a straitjacket tonight.

All four members of my household, including myself, wear glasses. Austynn practically wears coke bottle lenses, in other words, he's blind as a bat without them.  When the kids first came to live with us, it was standard procedure during their temper tantrums to throw, break or crack their glasses to get their point across that they were angry.  Now that they're older, my husband and I feel that they should be well past this stage in their lives.  In fact, their glasses aren't cheap, little boy glasses any longer.  No. They're very expensive.  Austynn has had his glasses replaced and repaired already once this year.  We're now waiting for our tax return money so we can get our annual eye exams and glass frames taken care of.  What did my not so little sixteen year old do last week?  Yes. It was a temper tantrum to end ALL TEMPER TANTRUMS.  His reasoning was that it was better to completely demolish his non-replaceable glasses than to whack the kid in line because he was teasing him (and per his teacher, the kid in question was NOT saying a word).  When Eric almost had them in somewhat wearable condition, Austynn took them apart deciding they were unacceptable and ruined them beyond recognition.  Yes, he seriously did that.   Ugh!      

On a sillier note, I will never recover from the humiliation of almost crashing head on into a neighbor at the outrageously dangerous speed of 5mph while turning into my own driveway.  How does one do such a foolish thing?  Vanity, my friends.  I was admiring my home's Christmas lights and not looking at the car passing directly in front of me. Oh the shame!  

I will spare this person's mortification and not share her name yet her story lives on in the Marriage Hall of Fame; a testament to her husband's love and good humor.  *Linda (for the sake of the story), was having an awful day.  She was parked downtown in a "Pay n' Park" lot and had misplaced her pay ticket.  By the time she found it, the sun had gone down, there were no lights and she was completely unfamiliar with that area.  Unfortunately, Linda had made the fatal mistake of going out the "Entrance" where there were spikes preventing cars from going in the wrong way.  Obviously, in the dark, she didn't see them and blew out her front two tires.  There was no one onsite to help her and this was long before the days of cell phones.  In her panic, God bless her, she had that moment - or lack thereof - when the earth stopped on its axis and all reasoning left her.  Yes, she did the unthinkable.  She drove on and blew out the back two tires as well.  Sobbing in disbelief, she wandered into a local restaurant, called her husband and whispered her secret shame into the receiver. *Hal showed up twenty minutes later with four new tires in his pick-up truck, a hug for his devastated wife and dinner so she'd have something to eat while he replaced the tires. In answer to your question my friends, yes, they're still very happily married.

Speaking of marriages, my first.  Exactly.  What was I thinking there?  Need I say more?

I've mentioned in many of my blogs that I can become somewhat manic when it comes to housework. There are things that I just can't leave alone.  For instance, for the past three months there's been an unsightly grease stain trapped between my oven door and the inner glass panel.  It's been driving me CRAZY.  So, after several requests to my dear husband to take care of it, I couldn't stand looking at it another minute.  How hard could it be?  Just a few screws and voila, right? Absolutely. It popped right open!  I wiped it off - but then, this was the dicey wasn't as easy to slide the glass back in.  What the heck?  I didn't need any help...I could do this.  Suddenly, the glass panel hit the side of the oven door and then - POP, CRASH, EXPLODE!  GOD DAMMIT!  I just wanted to clean the stupid grease stain!  Now I broke the friggin oven!  SHIT!

Why is it that after I drink 6 or more shots of Tequila I believe a plate of greasy, fried appetisers at Denny's actually sounds like a good idea?

And finally, running down the stairs with a plate full of dishes to escape my chattering son - even though while typing this, seems completely reasonable - is a broken ankle in triplicate waiting to happen.

Wow, this stuff was really stupid!  Pardon me, while I shake off the cookie crumbs and why is it they always land all over my chest?  WAIT!  Don't answer that.  D'oh!