Author Archives: Rhonda

It’s going to be an X-rated Halloween

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Anabella and I recently went to my friend Kathy’s house for a playdate … kind of a last hoo-rah before first grade started last week. Everyone at Kathy’s house is crazy about Halloween, so her daughter Lauren pulls out some catalogs to look at Halloween costumes. I am flipping though a catalog, with Anabella looking over my shoulder, when I come to this:

Anabella slams her finger down on the page, “I want to be that for Halloween!” she said. “But what is it?”

“It’s a peacock,” I said.

“A pink COCK?” Turns to Lauren. “I’m going to be a PINK COCK for Halloween.”

Of course, if I was a grown up, I would have corrected her calmly and that would have been that. But no. Kathy and I look at each other and bust out laughing so hard we were crying. Anabella begins repeating herself because this is oh-so funny.

And then, completely ignoring the children and thinking only of the first week discipline reports that came home from kindergarten, I turn to Kathy and say “Hi, I’m going as a PINK COCK for Halloween.” More hysterical laughing followed until we finally regained composure and tried to repair the situation by sounding out PEA-COCK to Anabella several times.

Luckily the pink cock joke didn’t rear it’s head (hahaha … get it?) again.

Then of course I find out this isn’t a peacock after all, but a flamingo.

WTF Wednesday

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Just when I thought the Hoffsicle was the strangest thing I had seen lately, this comes in the mail.

She’s not a toy, people. She’s a FINE COLLECTIBLE. And when you get your creepy baby in the mail, you can personalize her hospital bracelet. (All the crazy people are doing it.)

WTF? Wednesday

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Kindergarten was a bumpy road for us, and the last day proved to be no different. Dan didn’t have a car that day, so he walked Anabella to school in the morning. Well I guess Ms. Thing decided she was a “walker” and got into the walker line at the end of the day and marched right out of the school all by her little lonesome. Out. Into the neighborhood. Alone. My FIVE year old. Are you f*cking kidding me, kindergarten?!

She made it home safely. And thank goodness Dan was home, because I’m not sure what her next decision would have been if he wasn’t. But needless to say, I totally freaked out. I spent at least two hours thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened to her on the short trip to our house. Then, I called and left a heated message at the school.

After FOUR days of radio silence, I sent an email to the prinicipal. She responded promptly, and said all the right things, but I am STILL waiting on her investigation results — I mean seriously, WTF? How did that happen? Anabella has been going to YMCA aftercare every other day of the school year. Stupid f*ckers. Yes, I am still completely worked up after a week and a half. It just makes me wonder exactly how safe our kids really are at school.

Okay, so anyway. I was in LA a few weeks ago for work and came across this sign in the kitchen of our offices.

Sorry it’s blurry but I was laughing pretty hard when I was taking the photo, because I had asked the security guard who was also in the kitchen what the story was behind the sign, to which he replied in a deep Southern accent “who the hell knows with these people.” He continued to tell me it was probably something to do with animal rights or organic farming. ha! Turns out he was from Oklahoma, and although he had lived in LA for many years, he wasn’t impressed with the “natives.” According to my friend, not only are they weird about food, but they also can’t drive in the rain. So there you have it.

A new low

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I’ve reached a new level of desperation this week. I’ve been back on steroids for several months, and of course, my face has blown up again. I had to get my driver’s license photo taken this week, and had a complete breakdown when I compared the new “moon face” photo to my previous photo. So, I went to the drug store and bought a tube of PreparationH. (Hard to believe I didn’t already have some with all my gastroentestinal problems, huh?).

So before I went to work yesterday, I put it all over my face. Yep. I did. Hemorrhroid cream all over my face.

It did make a difference around my eyes, but the shame of having ass cream on my face will probably keep me from doing it again.

WTF? Wednesday

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I love my pets. I do ridiculous things for my pets. However, I refuse to buy into this.

I’ll spend $1,200 to save the life of an alley cat with a kidney infection (I’m looking at you, Deuce), but I am not serving my cat multi-course meals. I mean seriously, who came up with this idea? Treats, yes. Salad and appetizer courses, no.

This is the sign in front of one of Houston’s finer establishments in a fairly fancy neighborhood. The Diamond Club, formerly known as the Pink Pussycat, is one of Houston’s only all-nude strip clubs. (If you don’t live in Houston, we have no zoning, so that’s how this place is within a mile or so of million dollar homes). Anywho, I noticed the sign to OTC participants (the Offshore Technology Conference), and wondered, if the message is basically “if you can prove that you have a hotel room, you can come in and find a hooker for free”? Are we not a little more discreet these days?!

WTF? Wednesday

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Just when I thought my girls were being sweeter and kinder to each other, Anabella presents me with this drawing.

Background: Scarlett somehow wound up wearing one of Anabella’s “Hello Kitty” shirts the other day, and all hell broke loose (picture crying, throwing of self on floor and other ridiculousness).

As you can see in this drawing, Anabella (the blonde) is wearing the coveted HK shirt. And poor Scarlett, standing next to me, is crying, being rained on by bowling-ball sized drops, has a very ominous red cloud following her (is it toxic??!), and apparently also has a club foot.

Ahh, sisters. So glad I don’t have any.

P.S. NOLA recap coming ASAP!