How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Make Stick Deodorant

Seriously? I'll just buy mine at the store ... thanks anyway.

I suppose if I get desperate, though, I can always whip up a batch.

For some reason, this gives me the heebie jeebies ...

... Thank you?

In marriage, I lucked out. My wife is the coolest, and I hope she knows it.

However, I have one story that is probably a little embarrassing for her, but I love to tell it anyway.

We were on our honeymoon. I was still giddy from our recent wedding and we were sitting in our hotel room watching a movie.

Suddenly, my wife turned to me and said, "I feel safe around you."

... Thank you?

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she feels that way, but I was a little confused about where the thought came from.

Then she explained, "Well, usually when I walk into a room, I automatically look for potential weapons I can use just in case I get attacked or something. But I've noticed I haven't done that with you, which means I feel safe around you."

Let's just say that was kind of a big revelation to happen right after I sealed the deal and put a ring on her finger.

I couldn't help but giggle a little at the thought of her scanning her surroundings for anything with a sharp edge or the ability to cause blunt force trauma.

However, looking back I'm really happy she does this. Too many people get into trouble because they aren't aware of the things going on around them. My wife is always ready, just in case, and that means I don't have to worry about her.

She even makes sure she has pepper spray in her pocket when a repair person comes to the house. Yeah, it may sound a little intense for such a low risk, but I would MUCH rather have her be safe than sorry.



So, thank you, Wife, for being so prepared. You're just doing your part to keep me from getting an ulcer.

I wish I had a cool reason ...

Wouldn't it be awesome if I had a cool reason for ditching the blogosphere for nearly two weeks?

Here's what I COULD tell you:

1. I got a free trip to Hawaii.
2. I rescued a bus full of nuns and elementary school kids.
3. I went to Africa on a Peace Corps mission.
4. I cured cancer.

Instead, here's the truth:

1. I was lazy.
2. Work was busy.
3. Stupid life chores like mowing the lawn and fixing the toilet got in the way.

However, I'm back (I hope), so the 2.5 people who manage to click over to this thing I call a blog will once again have some inane stories to read.

How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Make Nose Plugs to Stop a Runny Nose

Do people actually do this? I don't even want to think about changing out the "tissue balls."

My favorite, however is the WARNING:

This is measure to address a symptom and isn't treatment.

Olives

It's hard to believe people actually like olives. I think they taste like fermented manure. However, my wife really likes them, and since I know SHE isn't crazy, I have to re-evaluate my feelings about everyone else who can stomach them.

One of those people is my daughter. She loves them so much that she doesn't know when to stop shoving them in her mouth. She just keeps going until she gags and has to spit half of them out.

Is she the only one? I don't think I've ever seen a kid love olives at such an early age.

Hostess with the Mostess

A long time ago, there was a dinner in my dad's honor for some kind of service he rendered. All the people at the dinner were insanely wealthy and probably had someone on payroll to peel their grapes.

My parents live comfortably, but we don't fit into this lifestyle. I'm kind of grateful for that because these people tend to lose touch with reality.

Anyway, I guess in rich people circles, if a man has a dinner in his honor, everyone attending takes their cues from his wife. If one of the courses comes out, they all pick up their forks after she does. She is the one to start everything off, and everyone follows her lead.

This meal had a bunch of courses, and my mom, a fruit picker's daughter from Oklahoma, felt a little out of her league. Everything was going smoothly until the server placed a bowl of clear liquid in front of her. She panicked because there were no more spoons left at her place setting. She couldn't figure out what to do, and she knew everyone was waiting for her to make the first move. So, she did the first thing she could think of, she picked up the bowl in her hands and took a sip.



... It was water. She had just taken a sip from the finger bowl meant to be used to wash her hands. The whole room was polite, though, and every single person picked up their own finger bowl and took a sip.

She was mortified when she found out what she was actually supposed to do with it.

How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Make Your Butt Bigger

Well ... I don't have much to say about this one. Now there's nothing stopping you from becoming bootylicious.

This made my week

Do any of you follow Laughing at Life's Little Wedgies? If not, you should. If so, we should all start a fan club.

She just picked me for an award, and I couldn't be happier. Even if it has a flower and a tea cup on it.

I don't even care, and I'll display it proudly on my sidebar. ------->

Now, I'm supposed to nominate 15 people ... Do I even know that many people? Can I just nominate one person 15 times?

"What's a number 6?"

That's the question I asked my mom when I was 6 years old.

Confused?

Here's the full conversation:

Me: Mom? What's a number 6?
Mom: I don't know.
Me: Well ... you know, when you go to the bathroom number 1.
Mom: (Explained the finer points of the bathroom numbering system)
Me: Then, what is a number 6?
Mom: There isn't one.
Me: I think I just did one. I counted.

My mouth was like Russian Roulette. My mom never knew what would come out of it next.

Nathan. Cooking. Oxymoron.

I'm not a cook, but I wanted to give my wife a break on Mother's Day, so I braved the kitchen and tried to make something that wouldn't immediately gag her. I also thought I would use another Shirley J product, since I have a million of them now.

For inspiration, I went over to Project Domestication and found this recipe for honey mustard chicken.

(Sorry to bombard you with links. I can't help myself sometimes.)

Anyway, it turned out surprisingly well. I've always said that the only things I can make are brownies and cookies, but now I guess I can add honey mustard chicken to the list.

Here's a picture, just in case you're curious (I had to mix corn in with the peas because I ran out of peas):