A Loving Exchange.

This conversation happened today as we were driving to some friends’ to celebrate their daughter’s first birthday.

Me: Why are you going this way?

Himself: I want to finally see this house with the pumpkins.

Me: It’s not on this street!

Himself: It’s not?

Me: Didn’t you study the map??

Himself: Not carefully.

Me: My family SO doesn’t care about me.

Himself: I’m just bad with directions is all.

Me: Well go left here. Then it’s at the end of the block on the left.

Himself, as we get to the house with the pumpkins: Oh. Yeah, that is cute.

Me: [Deleted to maintain the PG Blog Rating] you.

Clearly my husband is NOT with the program. NOT letting me nail gun pumpkins to our roof, NOT letting me launch our lethal attack cat to wreak the havoc he was clearly born to do, NOT making insulting, disparaging comments at the wretched pumpkin house when he finally deigned to pay attention to it.

I believe the state of California allows me a no-fault divorce in this situation wherein I get all his stuff AND I get to kick him in the shins.

I’m sure a judge would be on board with that.

So the Halloween season has come to a close, and those bordering-on-harrassment decorations will be down from the house any day. Things should be better for the rest of the year, she has not – in years past, at any rate – put up Christmas decorations that do quite the same job of taunting me and robbing me of a decent night’s rest.

But if she lines her roof with adorable wee snowmen, I am getting a friggin’ blow torch.

Programming alert: I am the “celebrity judge” (Paige’s words not mine) of the “Mom of the Year Contest” at Slightly Off Balance. Not your typical parenting accolade, the winner is the person who I judge to  have done the funniest, wackiest or most desperate thing to somehow keep their parenting mojo on track. Or, off track, as the case sometimes may be. Leave a comment here if you’d like me to consider your own special brand of parenting crazy. Contest (and we use the term loosely because there are no prizes, certificates, trophies or Rice-A-Roni deliveries) closes today.


    1. Typically it’s not so bad – your fairly traditional lights.

      But…but…you never know. THIS could be the year.

      I’m preparing. I think I’ll start drinking now.

  1. So the offender is one of “those people” that go all out for Halloween and not for Christmas? We have those in our neighborhood too…some that don’t even do anything for Christmas because they are, according to them, “decorated out.”

    See, I just attempt mediocrity for both.

    1. I KNOW!

      He is so lucky I didn’t just whap him.

      Also, that dialogue is practically word-for-word, including the profanity at the end.

      (Or course, all joking…he totally cracked up.)

      And….I left it out of the post.

      And he read it and said, “Hey, you left out the last part!”

      And I said, “Well, out of context it sounds like I’m just being mean!”

      But on his recommendation I (sort of) put it on.

      I wanted to put: F$%# you. (With the censor-characters and all…) But was worried that was too sharp for my IPoMP audience.

      So here it is in the comments instead. ;)

  2. Oh, I totally didn’t even think about how hard it must have been for her to afix those things….now I’m enjoying the thought of her prying them off her roof with a crowbar this morning.

  3. I think you are entitled to a no-fault divorce for that breech of husbandly duties. But we will all know whose fault it really is.

    I am hoping she has those wicker reindeer in her yard, so you can sneak over there and pose them inappropriately.

  4. I am picturing you getting all shifty eyes at this house all. the. time.

    and yes, i read every comment just to see if there is one from the neighbor…you know…the day she finds this blog.

    1. There was a fake “neighbor” talking trash here a couple posts ago.

      Of course, it was really my mother hoping to give me a coronary condition, but it was still pretty funny.

  5. Himself deserves at minimum a night in the dog house for this transgression. Clearly he has failed to keep his marriage vows. Mine had “will support whatever crazy scheme she comes up with and hate who he’s told to hate with uncommon verocity” didn’t yours?

  6. You would so hate my BIL. He does a massive halloween decorating but it goes up the day of halloween and comes down the next day-so not too much taunting.

    Like this year they removed their front door and instead put up a new front door, painted in black with a hole in it with scary hands reaching outside from the inside.

    Did I mention, they had noise and staticy lighting going on intermittently in their house?

    And last year he got a voice activated thingee for his car parked outside with a demon at staring well who then made noises. He is nuts.

    Think he gets +50 points for effort and minus 50 for showing up the neighbors. lol

    1. Oh, I can WAY get behind a haunted house.

      LOVE those!

      It was the raging, unabashed and audacious adorableness that got me with the damned pumplins.

      I’d LOVE to see his production!

    1. Are you suggesting that *I* do chicks on the roof or she does?

      Cause if you’re suggesting ME, I will have that same problem as the pumpkins. Pitched roof.

      And I’m SURE you don’t want me to come anywhere NEAR the fuzzy chicks with a nail gun.

      Umm…do they have strong little feet? Maybe they could just perch there.

      1. Mother Hen is sure that her chicks have the strongest little perching feet going. Of course they charge minimum wage, and they will have to use your eavestrophes as their…facilities.

        MH would never suggest darling little chicklets for your neighbors roof — that would be aiding and abetting the enemy! Mother H may be many things, but she is not an aider and abetter. She is shocked and appalled at the idea!

  7. Men; they just don’t get it. Congrats on your “celebrity judge” status. You’ll be a great judge although you could be a great contestant too. How many MP points would you lose if you judged yourself as the winner (since there are no prizes and all)?

    1. Hmm…that WOULD be an excellenet excuse to break out the tiara…

      But I can’t keep up with the women who accidentally fed their daughter birth control pills or tried to steal a minivan with someone else’s family in it.

      Those were pretty good.

      Also, having a problem with your RSS feed in my new reader.


      Trying to fix that today.

  8. Yep, the thought of her getting the pumpkins off the roof is amusing ;)

    What if she does decorate for Christmas? Eight little reindeer – one of which has a nose that lights up?

  9. Lori- Himself doesn’t know where the house is because he is not impressed by the neighbor’s blatant cries for attention (tell him he owes me $5).

    I think your neighbor already reads this blog, but she’s flattered and may decorate for Christmas this year as a result…

    Since you’re judging the contest, can I enter? I feel like I have a good shot at the fabulous, e-hem, prize… ;)

  10. She does still have an opportunity to handcraft tiny cornucopia and place them evenly across her roof.

    Or dwarf turkeys.

    Or mini replicas of all of the macy’s parade hot air balloons. Don’t go skipping ahead to Christmas just yet!

  11. A marriage should be based upon mutual holiday decorating tastes and enthusiasm. Maybe he will get with the program soon. Forget prenumps. Holiday decorating agreement contracts should be required by law.

    1. And appropriate neighbor bashing is GOING to be included.

      yes it is.

      I don’t care that we’re already married.

      I’m drafting the contract NOW.

      1. Lol. Read the fine print. I ended up with a leak in my roof due to poor workmanship for the giant tacky inflatable Santa that spent Dec bent over like he was vomiting on the roof.

      2. Dear Ms. Melinda,
        A literally “hung-over” Santa on your roof has to win some sort of award, if only for the delightful visual.
        You win the first Mother Hen Epic Fail Award for 2010! Enjoy your celebrity!
        Awardingly yours,
        Mother Hen

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