Eight years and counting

Today is our 8th wedding anniversary. Dan is in Chicago, so I’m all pitiful. The girls and I had celebratory fish sticks for dinner and I chased them with a mocha frappaccino. Delish.

I went to our online family website and found this photo from our wedding (lovely border courtesy of a crazy aunt). Look how happy we were … younger, thinner, better skin. Ah, the memories.

(mush on) Anywho, I have to say that I love the man as much as I did on this day … maybe even more. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. (mush off)

Bee, if you see him walking down the street or in a restaurant or something, give him a big hug for me.

Really, Dan?

Dan recently took the girls to Build-A-Bear Workshop. The bear on the left is Scarlett’s bear … Anabella picked it out for her. The bear on the right is Anabella’s bear. Dan swears she picked it out all by herself.

Really, Dan? The masculine-looking bear wearing camouflage … with a matching beret and dog tags (not pictured). Anabella picked that out all by herself? Her daddy, the ex-Marine, didn’t have anything to do with it? The same daddy who puts Marine Corps. stickers on every car we own? The daddy whose last three cars have been Hummers? The daddy who asked for a bulldog (the Marine Corps. mascot) for his 30th birthday? I have a hard time believing daddy didn’t coach her on this one.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving kick-ass Marine baby toys. Mameluke sword or a nice Beretta 9mm for your three-year-old daughter? Sure!

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? ALMOST a chair!

The 18-year-old lie

I was recently sitting in the lobby of Massage Envy waiting for my appointment, when a man who worked there approached me.

Man: Hi, Rhonda. Do you remember me?

Me: No, I’m sorry I don’t.

Man: I’m Jeff. I knew you when you dated Gilmer.

Me: (laughing loudly) I can assure you I have NEVER dated anyone named Gilmer.

Man: Sure you did.

Me: (Completely dumbfounded … going through list of men in head .. sure there was one Bubba, but that was short lived…)

Man: Jonathan GILMER Lastname. (a man I lived with for over a year when I was 20.) He was a good friend of mine.

Me: Are you kidding me? (start to laugh uncontrollably)

Jeff: (Completely dumbfounded) Ummm …

Me: He told me he didn’t have a middle name!! I always felt bad for him because his name was so generic. I lived with him for f*ck’s sake! I can’t believe he lied about that … (rambled on for a while longer)

Poor Jeff. I think I did manage to ask if he was married and such, but I wasn’t listening (his name might not even be Jeff). I just couldn’t let go of the G. R. (Gilmer Revelation)

So there it is. I have officially dated a Bubba and a Gilmer. Next thing you know, I am going to find out Dan’s real name is Navin or Englebert.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a renewed satisfaction with my own middle name.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today?

I think Laura is on to something here … Scarlett seems more cat-like every day. Except she’s not nearly as tidy.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

Dear “DNR European Café” owner:

I’ve been very hesitant to eat at your establishment, because here in the U.S. “DNR” stands for “Do Not Resuscitate.”

In that context, your tag line seems a little ominous, don’t you think? I’m here for lunch, not a toe tag.

Next time, you might want to run your name choices by a few locals before having the fancy sign made.

— The B.S. Café is now serving deadly yummy sandwiches from the DNR Café. Enjoy.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? (Notice the sunglasses. You don’t want to be caught without them in a laundry basket!)

Easter recap

Oh what a crazy, jam-packed weekend. After two failed attempts to get a picture with the Easter bunny, I finally gave up and tried to convince myself that Scarlett would have just cried anyway. But secretly, I’m still sad about it. (On Friday night, the line was closed, so Dan told the girls that the EB was sleeping. Saturday, the line wrapped around the place twice, so I told them the EB was sick and needed some rest for Sunday. Are we nominees for the bad parent award yet? )

Otherwise the weekend went well … birthday parties, Easter egg coloring and “hatching” (meaning Anabella squishing a hard-boiled egg), hoarding of Easter basket goodies (“MINE!”), and of course, lots of chocolate. Here’s a few photos:

Maybe now Anabella will finally quit asking me to help her make Valentine cards.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a classic Easter bunny photo from 2006. How cute is she?

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? An Easter basket, of course. (Although she couldn’t squeeze all the way into it.)

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

OMG, people … I am so over Twitter! (and Facebook, but today I will just rant about Twitter)

Why do I need to know what people are doing every second of every day? (in 140 characters or less)

I don’t care that much about what I am doing, so do I really need to hear what some random person from high school is having for lunch? I don’t even have a Twitter account and I still have to hear about tweeting all day long. People just can’t stop talking about tweeting and twittering and the news is all about who twittered this or tweeted that.

And yesterday, I see THIS … surgeons tweeting during surgery.

WTF??? If you have me cut open, and I catch you tweeting about it, you better hope I die on the table, because I am so gonna beat your a** when it’s all said and done. Don’t you have something better to do? (Like poke someone on Facebook via your iPhone?!)

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving … capers! WTF is up with this caper hell on my bagel ? I like capers, but 50+ (I stopped counting at 50) on 1/3 of a bagel is ridiculous. And not only did they try to kill me with capers, but they hid them under the lox. Very sneaky.

Oh no!

Scarlett’s new favorite saying … and the only response the Comcast Customer Service person could come up with when I canceled my service today.

“Oh no. We hate to lose you as a customer.”

“Oh no. I can’t believe they didn’t offer you the preferred package.”

“Oh no. That’s too bad.”

It’s cute as hell when my 18-month old says it over and over. When the lady on the telephone does it, I want to strangle someone.

My computer has also mysteriously rebooted itself five times since I got to work, and some dude in another office called and gave me an a**chewing because he wasn’t happy with the employee newsletter.

Happy Monday.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a tiny dose of Monday-morning hostility.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? A tiny tractor. She’s a bonnet and camouflage-wearing farmer. Oh no.