Saturday, September 1, 2012

The Other Woman

This is probably not the place to be talking about this, but we live in a world where everyone bears the most intimate details of their lives on Facebook, talk shows, reality TV, and blogs. Since this is a blog, I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon and confess an intimate detail of my life with everyone who stumbles onto this site.

There is another woman in Hubs's life.

I don't think he minds me telling you this, because he doesn't do much to hide the relationship.

She's with him everywhere.

At work.

She's his companion at lunch.

He even brings her home, to our house, when I'm there!

They usually eat breakfast and dinner together (again, at my house).

I've asked and begged that she at least stay out of the bedroom, but some mornings I wake up and there she is, between Hubs and me, his hand draped across her back. 

Would you like to see what she looks like?

I have a picture, if you haven't scrolled down already.

Here she is.

I mean come on! How can I compete with that? She's thin, sleek, cool, young and can do so many things I can't. And, she has great apps (get it? Great apps, like abs?). No wonder he can't get enough of her (sob, sob, sniffle, sniffle).

Now, I'm considering getting a guy on the side for myself.

What do you think? Pretty hunky huh?

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

My Biggest Fear

So. . .

I have about five drafts I've started, thinking: "Oh, this is hilarious!" Only to type them out and realize, it was not funny. I have tried to bring hilarity to your lives, but if you remember from my first post, I am not funny. I try though, and have had a few people tell me they enjoy this blog, so I will continue. Watching my mom read "Who Wears Short Shorts?" was pretty epic. She laughed so hard she cried. That was on my bucket list, so I can die now. Just kidding. There are other things on my bucket list I need to do first. Like get the green jello with carrots pin from the 2002 Winter Olympics. Anyone know where I can get my hands on one of those babies?

What was my point? I guess it's taking me longer to get good material than I expected, but I will continue to try to put a smile on the face of anyone who wants some good, clean silliness.

Back to the Ranch, as my awesome junior high Spanish teacher, Mr. Harrop, would say. Maybe someday I will have to do a blog about him smacking his yardstick on his table (he broke chunks off several times, it eventually became a ruler), and the other crazy things he did. . .

Now, back to the ranch clase, for reals!

I am sick today.


So is Hubs.

Double Boo!!! Because now he can't take care of me.

I started feeling sick on Saturday, but, I had to go to church on Sunday, because I had Sharing Time.

If you don't know what "Sharing Time" is, I'll briefly explain. Every three months I give a twenty minute lesson to all the kids at my church, for the whole month.

Wow, that really was brief.

Well, today I thought about how it seems like whenever I'm sick on a Sunday, it's a day that I'm teaching Sharing Time.

Coincidence? Probably not. Can I share a secret with you? I'm sure I can, seeing how this is a public blog for anyone to read. You'll never tell right?

All right, here's my secret. You see, teaching Sharing Time terrifies me!

Okay, now that you've pulled yourself off of the floor from laughing at me, I'll continue.

I'm serious! Being up in front of ten (or so) kids and keep them attentive, engaged, (translation: quiet), and hopefully teach them something scares me to death. I mean think about it. There are ten of them and only one of me.

What if they realize this and revolt against me?!

After all the stressing, fretting, and sweating I do every week it's my month to teach, it's no wonder I get sick!

Now, if you'll excuse me, there is one more Sunday in this month, so I better start preparing for my next Lord of the Flies, I mean Sharing Time.

Right after I finish hyperventilating into this brown paper bag.

Friday, August 3, 2012


I'm Baaaack!

Did you miss me? (Insert British accent) We had a jolly good time on holiday in Utah. We attending many gatherings and events with family and acquaintances. (Back to American accent) So if you were anxiously awaiting a new post (ha ha, yeah right!), that's why I haven't written in a while.

Now, here is "Work."

One day, Hubs called to tell me he would be home early, but he was going to do some work at home. He asked if I could occupy the children so he could write some reports (no, he's not a student).

Of course, since I am a loving and supportive wife, I told him, "Of course I will continue to care for the children and keep them away so you can get your work done."

This is him "working."


When he woke up finished working, I told him at 9:30 that night, I would be needing to do some "work" myself, so could he please occupy himself and the children?

I didn't get to "work" until after 10:00.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Most Embarrassing Moment of My Life/How to Get Rid of a Salesman

Before I get to my post, I just want to thank everyone for checking out my blog, posting comments, and sharing on facebook. Already it's had more views than I ever thought it would. And this is what, my fourth post? I'm so glad that there are others who find my humor, well, humorous. So anyway, thanks.

I will now relate "The Most Embarrassing Moment of My Life" (or at least my most embarrassing moment in the last ten years) aka "How to Get Rid of a Salesman."

Last Thursday, at approximately 6:30 pm I was sitting on the couch nursing Lyla. The doorbell rang, and John excitedly ran to the door. I was expecting it to be Hubs coming home from work.

"John, will you look out the window and see if it's Daddy?" I asked.
He peered out the front window. "Yep, it's Daddy." he said and opened the door, just as Lyla broke off from eating, exposing my --

Well . . . you know.

The door opened and there stood a Comcast guy. "Uh, that's not Dad." I brilliantly noted.

Now, the front door is in perfect view of the couch I'm sitting at. I could see him, and he could see me.

ALL of me.

I tried to use Lyla as a human shield (I don't know why I didn't just pull my shirt down) as Comcast Guy hands John a paper and says, "Give this to your mom. Sorry ma'am." and runs away in record time.


Who would have thought all I had to do was flash the salesman to get them to leave? You would think doing that would make them stay. I guess I'm not as young as I used to be, so this might not work with young ladies. But, if anyone is willing to give it a try, I'd love to hear how it turns out.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Who Wears Short Shorts?

Rosie and John are taking swimming lessons. At their class, I noticed a strange new trend in the swimming trunks of their male instructors. They are a little more than a Speedo, a lot less than board shorts, and show pretty much the whole thigh. If you need a visual, click here. (If it makes you feel better, it's just a picture of the shorts, no one is wearing them.)

I was feeling a bit embarrassed, making sure I looked up at the teachers, and almost started giggling at the ridiculousness (spelled right of the first try) of these itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny shorts. I began to have a conversation with myself.

Brittany: Hey Brittany, those shorts are pretty short.
Brittany: Yes, yes they are.
Brittany: Do you think it's a new trend?
Brittany: I certainly hope not. Maybe it's just for hard core swimmers.
Brittany: They are pretty ridiculous.
Brittany: I know! Could you imagine someone we know actually wearing those?
Brittany: Hey, (chuckles) could you imagine Hubs in those shorts?
Brittany: (laughing) Yeah, that would be hilar-


I pictured it. 

And it was hot. 

Now, I think everyone who reads this knows my husband, but in case you don't, let me describe him for you. He's 6'3'' and weighs about 150 lbs. I drew an awesome picture so you can visualize how skinny he is. Prepare to be amazed by my art skills.

I know, I know. You are blown away by my talent. Here is Hubs in the shorts, and remember ladies, he's taken.

Now I just need to think of the least awkward way to ask Rosie's teacher where he got his shorts.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012


First of all, I need to say thanks to everyone who has read the blog so far. I already have more page views than I thought I would, like ever. I even have TWO followers! (Yes I am serious about my excitement.) I hope you've come back for more (obviously you have, or you wouldn't be reading this). I also need to thank Hubs for referring his hundreds of Facebook friends here, I'm pretty sure that's where most of my hits came from. Thanks Hubs, mwah!

Now, without further adieu, I give you . . . "Puppy."

My family (meaning Hubs and my oldest two kids. The baby can't speak yet, but she'd probably be in on this too) want to get a puppy. They promise to feed, play, walk, get up with it in the night, and clean up after it.

About two years ago, Hubs and the two oldest (still working on code names) were begging me for a baby. They promised they would help feed, play, walk, get up with it in the night, and clean up after it. Sound familiar?

Well, I thought with all that help, adding a baby to our family would be a breeze. So, I was a good wife mother and gave them a baby. At first they all wanted to hold, play, clean, walk, and take care of her. But, the novelty wore off, and almost a year later, who is doing 99% of the work? Do I really need to answer that question? 

IT'S ME! ME!!!

Then it dawned on me one day, when Hubs was mentioning an ad he saw for free puppies, that we don't need a dog. Because basically we already have one.

Our baby is just like a puppy!

Now hear me out before you send me angry comments, or report me to CPS. 

1.Baby crawls on all fours.
2. Baby slobbers all over everything.
3. Baby chews on the furniture.
4. When she kisses you, she licks you.
5. She eats scraps off the floor.
6. She bites.
7. We can take her for walks.
8. When Hubs comes home she runs (crawls quickly) to the front door and jumps (pulls herself) up on him.
9. Somehow, she always ends up sleeping in our bed.

I really tried to think of one more, so it could be an even ten for you, Adrian Monk. Unfortunately, I couldn't. As you can see, we really don't need a dog, because basically we already do. So, the next time someone begs me for a puppy, I'm going to slap a collar on Baby, and have them take her for a walk.

Oh, I thought of number 10. She likes to fetch! 

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Welcome Welcome!

Hello. Welcome to the {Insert Inventive Title Here} Blog!

When trying to think of a “creative” name for this blog, I had an epiphany. I'll just call it the {Insert Creative Title Here Blog}! Because I am so creative and original!

Apparently not. Because that name was already taken. As was {Insert Awesome Title} and {Insert Clever Title}.

So then I pondered, what is a synonym for creative? After deep thought and deliberation (aka a thesaurus check) I decided it would be much more clever to call my blog {Insert Inventive Title Here}. Because being inventive is so much better than being creative!

So, I am starting a blog here. It is supposed to be a humorous blog, the only problem is, I'm not funny, but hopefully this will be. As Forrest Gump (didn't) say, “I am not a funny man. But I know what humor is.” (Okay, make incorrect quote from a '90's movie. Check! This blog is off to an awesome start). Hubs (code name for my husband until if/when I think of something more awesome) is a stand up comedian.

No. No he's not.

But, he is like the mushroom that walked into a bar, and the bartender said, 'We don't serve your kind here.' then the mushroom replied, 'Why not? I'm a fungi?' So yes, my husband is a 'fun guy', no he's not a fungus, because I know you needed an explanation.

Anyway. . . perhaps some of his hilarity will rub off on me, or at least this blog, after he rewrites looks it over. The stories I tell will be true albeit perhaps slight exaggerations. And my children are like, superheros, so they need secret identities. Okay, I just don't like the idea of anyone with internet access being able to see pictures of my kids, so there will be none of those. And I'll be creating pseudonyms for them for further protection, because I am a paranoid parent, and because they are so adorable and amazing the mere mention of their names will cause you to track me down and abduct them right out of their beds while they sleep.

Now, what are my hopes, dreams, and aspirations for this blog. I hope to make you laugh, or at least smile. You being the reader, whomever you are. Whoever? When do you use whom? What was I talking about . . . ?

I hope you will share this with your friends, your family, your co-workers, perfect strangers (Hey Chick-fil-a cashier, you should read {Insert Inventive Title} Blog!) and the blog will get many hits, and I'll be able to make some sweet, sweet moo-la. Or at least enough that I can quit my part-time job. My full-time job is being a mother. I am a child-care provider part-time. Actually, I am a babysitter. And I think I get paid less than thirteen-yea-old girls with the same job. What is the going rate for babysitters now-a-days?

So, I invite you to sit back, relax, and keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times.

It probably will get bumpy. 

And stay tuned, my next post will be titled, “Puppy.” (leave the reader wanting more, Check!)