Love’s Baby Soft

Lov'es baby softLast week, a high school friend posted a picture of Love’s Baby Soft cologne on Facebook with the comment, “who remembers wearing this stuff in high school?” Soon after, many forty-something females starting ‘liking’ the photo, including myself. My, did that bright pink bottle, with the cap as tall as the bottle itself, take me back to my teenage years. I recalled the year my hand-knitted red Christmas stocking, with the angora bearded Santa Claus, was filled to the brim with Love’s Baby Soft products. I was prepared to be a cloud of baby powder scented sweetness. In my stocking was not only cologne, but talcum powder, bubble bath, and deodorant, to layer upon my 15-year-old self. The advertising campaign slogan was “anything can happen when you are in love.” What teenage girl didn’t fantasize about their first love? All of my friends were wearing it, to the point that even the boys knew the scent by name. As I was reminiscing about Love’s, a comment was added to the Facebook post, “They still make Love’s.” (I later discovered that it has its own fan page on Facebook). I immediately logged onto Amazon.com to find that, indeed, it was still being made. I didn’t hesitate to click the ‘Buy now’ button. The description of “kid’s perfume” didn’t deter me. I need to share with Love’s that they are marketing to the wrong demographic. We over forty women still love the gentle, clean fragrance of baby-powder with a slight floral hint. I don’t remember when I stopped wearing it. I’m sure I reached a point where I felt that I was too mature to smell like a baby. I moved on to headier scents, such as Ralph Lauren and Poison. My bottle arrived Monday. I’ve spent the days since sniffing my wrist remembering teenage loves found and lost. My husband smelled my neck and said, “you smell nice. Is that new?” I guess those now forty-something teenage boys are still having their heads turned by it too.

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Drive-thru Rage

chick-fil-aArchived from my old blog.

For those of you who know me, know that last week was the week from hell for me. For those who don’t know me, you’ll have to stay tuned, because I’m not ready to blog about those events yet. The wounds are still too fresh.

I want to take this opportunity to thank the thoughtless woman who butted in front of me in the drive-thru lane at Chick-Fil-A on Friday. I was being kind and let a car exit out of the drive-thru lane. The Thoughtless Bitch (TTB) in the red 4-door took advantage of the opportunity to jump in front of me.

I was pissed. I was more than pissed. I was enraged. How dare TTB think that her time was more important than mine? It took every ounce of what was left of my sanity to not let my foot accidentally-on-purpose slip off the brake pedal.

For the next five minutes, I stewed and intermittently flipped her The Bird if I thought she was looking in her rear-view. And then, to quote Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas, “Then he got an idea! An awful idea! THE GRINCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!”

Now it was TTB’s turn to shout her order into the talking box. When she opened her mouth (covered in way too much red lipstick) I leaned on my horn! The look on her face was priceless. The kids thought it was funny. So did I. So funny, in fact, that I did it about three more times she attempted to speak! I laughed my ass off.

So thank you, again, TTB for giving me the comic relief I so desperately needed after the week from hell!

 

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“Let’s watch people get hurt and laugh!”

Archived from my old blog.

This is how my three year old, Ernie, starts our “family time” each evening! My kids’ favorite way to spend their pre-bed television time is watching “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

I guess watching countless men get hit in the family jewels with baseball bats, golf clubs, soccer balls and small children’s fists is the perfect end to the day. Heck, I saw one episode where they gave $100,000 to two little boys who were apparently wearing their first cups that day and were bouncing baseballs off of their crotches.

AFV has been on the air for 17 years and has gone through a lot of hosts. How do I know this? Because we watch this show six days a week and most of them are re-runs. I have watched Bob Saget’s nose get bigger with each episode (or maybe his head shrunk). And I have marveled at the unending number of phony-ponys, hair rats, and extensions Daisy Fuentes’ hairdresser uses to make her look even taller and her ass look smaller.

Taking one in the bits ‘n pieces isn’t the only way to get on AFV. Piñata mishaps seem to be quite popular. As soon as a piñata appears on screen Ernie starts yelling, “he’s going to get hit in the head”, and he’s rarely disappointed.

It may not be the most Leave-It-To-Beaveresque family time.  The way I look at it is this:  We pop some popcorn and laugh together, so I guess I can over look the minor detail of the source of the hilarity – other people’s pain!

 

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There is a support group for everyone . . .

100_1901Archived from my old blog.

. . . but for parents who are too cheap to throw their kids a decent birthday party? Gimme a break!

Yes, Dear Readers, a group of parents have formed “Birthdays Without Pressure” because they think children’s birthday parties are getting out of control. I guess if you can’t keep up with the Jones you make them feel like bad parents!

I happen to be one of those bard parents who enjoy throwing my kids a fun, interesting birthday party. We have jumped for joy at Pump It Up!, pet a python at the Safari Place, had a pirate hunt for treasure, made green eggs and ham for a Dr. Seuss party, had a magician with rabbit, and a mad scientist in my home showing kids how to make their own slime, as well as two parties at ExploraWorld.

But do I look down my nose at the parents’ who throw simpler parties? Of course not. You do what you can/want to do. I had a nurse tell me when I was in the hospital after giving birth to #1 son, “it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks, as long as you know you did your best, at the end of the day that’s all that matters.” Of course, it was two o’clock in the morning when she delivered that advice.  We were both staring at my bared breast, frustrated as to why #1 Son wouldn’t latch on.  She was trying to tell me I that wouldn’t be a bad mother for giving up breastfeeding . . . but I digress . . . The point is, as parents we do what feels right for us.

So to the parents who formed Birthdays Without Pressure, I say, “Just because you didn’t get the clown you so desperately wanted on your ninth birthday, or your parents didn’t rent out the Disco-Skate-O-Rama on your thirteen birthday, don’t take it out on everyone else!”

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Whoever said money can’t buy you happiness. . .

Archived from my old blog.Disney0007

. . . never planned a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth (Disney World) for five people! So far, it’s cost us:

Hotel: free (thanks, Dad)
Airfare: $1,800
Park Tickets: $1,700
Rental Car: $600
The look on our kids faces when they say, “I’m bored” and I smack them in the back of the head: Priceless

 

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