DROP EVERYTHING

I  was cleaning the kitchen this morning when I received a text message from a good friend who lives about an hour South of me.  She said that she had a doctor appointment in my neck of the woods and asked if I wanted to meet for breakfast when she finished at approximately 9.  It was 8:30.  I was still in my jams, neither hair nor teeth were brushed and no make-up.  I had a long list of to-dos to get ready for Christmas.  My tree has been up for over a week and still isn’t decorated.  My house is in serious need of a visit from the cleaning fairy.  I have White Trash, Cinnamon Pecans and cookies to make.  I haven’t really begun to shop for gifts.  I have a pile of laundry to do after being away last weekend.  And I had this blog post to write.  (I did promise hope to write something every single day of this year.)
 
So of course I begged off stating that I had too much to do and promised to make sure that we get together soon, right?   NO WAY!  I quickly thanked her for the “heads up” (Where is my sarcasm font?) and said I’m on my way.


Fortunately, I showered before bed last night.  I pulled a pair of jeans out of the dirty clothes hamper (Don’t judge, people.  It’s not like I slopped hogs in them.) and put them in the dryer with a damp towel for 10 minutes.  While the jeans were de-wrinkling, I brushed my teeth, ran a curling iron over the ends of my hair and slapped on some make-up. I managed to find a clean sweater and the required Christmas necklace.   I retrieved my jeans, looking good as new by the way, put them on and was out the door. 

I enjoyed a wonderful breakfast with a dear friend that lasted 3 1/2 hours.  (We had a lot to catch up on.)  On my way home, I decided to get my pedicure out of the way.  My Harley Stud called in the middle of my pedicure and asked if I wanted to ride along to Vero Beach where he had to visit a customer.  I finally made it back home at 7pm.   And so the to-do list crashed and burned.


One of my favorite Bible stories (because balancing priorities seems to be a problem for me) is the one where Jesus comes to visit Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha.  While Martha is busy preparing food, cleaning up and making sure that her distinguished guest has the best of every THING they have to offer, Mary sits with Jesus and visits with him.  She listens to his stories and enjoys his company all while Martha is slaving away in the kitchen (none too happy that she isn’t getting help from her sister.)  The moral of the story, of course, is that it is much more important to fellowship and love one another.  Who cares if the house is clean!
 
This year I’m going to have a merry Mary Christmas.  And I hope that you do too. Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, the lesson should not be lost.  Shouldn’t we all be sure to make time to make time with our loved ones at Christmas and all throughout the year?
 
How crazy is your holiday?  Will you have  a Mary Christmas or a Martha Christmas? 

LIE TO ME…….DAMMICK!

Dear Young Chickie that Works under my Supervision and has no Idea that a Woman who just turned 50 is a little on edge and this one in particular owns a GUN:

Next time you decide to attempt to lavish me with compliments; dig a little deeper.  Use your imagination for pity sake. 


Respectfully,
Your loving and gracious office manager.

Now get the hell out of my office before I ………. I ………well, I oughtta …..


(Fifty + 4 days)

Allow me to paint the picture for you:


Yesterday before leaving the office, I got out my paint palate, a brush and some hairspray and headed for the ladies room.  I explained that I was meeting Daughter #1 at the mall and that you never know who you might run into at the mall.  “I don’t want anyone to think I’ve let myself go.”


Young Oblivious Coworker says, “It’s not like you’re Fif……..ty.”   She tried to stop in time but it was too late.  It was already out there. 


OH.YES.SHE.DID!


The left eyebrow was raised in her direction.  The sneer became impossible to conceal.  The hair was standing up at the back of my neck.  There was some gnashing of teeth.




1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.   Deep breathes. Deep breathes.


I finally stopped hyperventilating and continued on to the ladies room.  That's when I heard:


"If it makes you feel any better, I still think you look 49."


NO!  IT DOESN'T!


There's a good reason I leave my gun at home locked in a safe.

THE PEE WORD

 

(Fifty+3 days)

There is a disturbing trend that has reared its ugly head in the last few decades or so.  I’m no parenting expert nor do I hold a psychology degree but with almost twenty six years of parenting experience, I do have something to say on the topic.  It is merely my opinion but I think we can all agree:  ……I’m right.

Some parents believe it’s acceptable and even wise to teach their little darlings to call private parts of the body by their real, anatomical names.  Big mistake. HUGE! 

There’s a very good reason why I disagree with this practice:  I never wanted to hear Daughter #1 or #2 tell a woman in the supermarket, “I have a v_______.  Do you have one too?”  And I can guarantee you, that phrase or something equally mortifying would have come out of their cute little mouths. 

Personally, at 50 years old, I’m still not comfortable using the “p” word referring to a man’s (what my mother taught us was a) “fella”.  So if I can’t say it myself, I sure don’t want to hear it out of the mouth of a four year old. 

So what did I use instead?  Not really the creative sort, I stuck with “pee pee” for both a girl’s and a boy’s …….well….. pee pee.  I couldn’t bring myself to use my mother’s “fella" because every time I heard someone say they were bringing their “fella” home to meet the parents, I got a completely different mental picture.  Sometimes I refer to it as the ever-popular “thing”.   And then of course there are the bottom and the boobies. 

So dear readers, if you have young children in your life, please restrain yourself from using the “proper” body part names.  There’s plenty of time for them to learn those words.  For now, let’s all be cute and fun and say words like “hoohah” and “fella”. 

Let’s all agree to agree with SMB.  Nothing good can come of doing otherwise.  Listen to me and the world will be a kinder, gentler place. 

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB

I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS CRAP

(F+2)

I worked 12 1/2 hours today so we’re going to keep this short and sweet.  Today’s life lesson is:
Never skip your dentist appointment, your mammogram or your pedicure.  Great teeth, healthy boobs and pretty feet should be priority in life.  Make it happen.

Love and Kisses,
SMB

MIRROR, MIRROR IN MY PURSE

F+1  Tip:  Always carry a mirror.  And use it.

I was thirteen when my grandfather died and my grandmother came to live with us.  After sharing several meals with my dear grandma, it became quite apparent that she had no feeling in her chin.  The woman always had food on her face.  As a young Smart Mouth Broad, I had plenty of comments on the subject.  All of said comments were kept to myself so as to keep my teeth intact. (She had a cane and knew how to use it.)  I would sit and wonder at how in the world she could have that big glop of gravy on her chin and not seem to notice.  Was there an age when it suddenly became acceptable to have mustard on your face?  A geriatric fashion statement, perhaps? 

A few decades later, my mother starting exhibiting signs of loss of sensation of her chin.  Always a stickler for proper etiquette, a napkin was always at the ready and eventually she would wipe her mouth and remove the goo from her face.  But still I marveled at how she didn’t seen to notice there was anything there.   After all, I could always feel when excess mayonnaise escaped from my sandwich onto my chin.  Sometimes I put it there just to be sure.

Recently my own children, who never hesitate to notify me of anything that could cause potential embarrassment….for them, have started gesturing to me to wipe my chin.  Fifty FLIPPIN’ years old and already I’ve lost all feeling in my chin!  I haven’t even gone through menopause yet! 

There appears to be an elephant in the room that no one wants to mention.  We hear all about loss of hearing, memory and eyesight.  We know that we lose the hair we want and grow it back in places we don’t.  You can’t turn on the television without hearing about arthritis pain, bone loss and high blood pressure.  But no one and I mean NO ONE is talking about chin sensory loss. 

To my knowledge, there is no pill, no lotion, no potion, no 12 step program to avoid, repair or cure Mayonnaise on the Chin Syndrome.  Therefore my words of wisdom today are:  Carry a mirror.  Never leave home without it. 

 

Love and Kisses,

SMB