Tag: Taffy Pull

Today’s Taffy Pull: Hands off My Cupcake Shower Gel

An Open Letter to the Possessors of a Y Chromosome in My House:

Which ocupcakene of you studs used up all of MY Beauty Smoothie Buttercream Cupcake 3-in-1 Shower Gel/Bubble Bath/Shampoo from Ulta?! You went through twenty-four ounces in less then a week! Don’t pretend that you didn’t know it was mine. There are cute  stylized cupcakes on the bottle, and it smells good enough to eat. Does showing up for soccer practice smelling like a bakery help your game? Or maybe you want to stand out at your ALL boys’ school? Possibly the girl you like is PMSing and you thought you would seem more attractive smelling like comfort food? Or, maybe when you’re sitting at work in your cubicle, you sniff the crook of your elbow and think of me?

Is it asking too much that I could have something feminine in this den of testosterone? But nooooooo! I had to use the Irish Spring body wash I bought so that you could smell like manly men. And, contrary to the advertising campaign, I do not like it, too.

So here I sit, smelling very butch, and you’re somewhere needing sprinkles.


Ernie: Did you see the magazine Daddy left in the bathroom?
Me: (panicked) What magazine?!
Ernie: Maxim.
Me: (relieved) That’s okay. He can read what he wants.
Ernie: But its . . . its . . . the word I can’t say that begins with a “P”.
Me: What word? Just say it.
Ernie: P-O-R-N
Me: Oh, that “P” word.
Ernie: Are you going to divorce him?
Me: Why? For looking at a magazine?
Ernie: Men who read that stuff want to find younger, skinny wives.


Today’s Taffy Pull . . . I think I’m Pregnant

The Ancient One called . . .

AO: I think I’m pregnant.
Me: I’ll alert the media and Guiness Book of World Records.
AO: I went and burned these little pizza thingys in the microwave. They look like charcoal.
Me: Jesus! How long did you cook them for?
AO: I don’t remember.
Me: You could burn the house down.
AO: I have NEVER burned the house down.
Me: It only takes one time.
AO: I’m still hungry.
Me: Go get something else out of the freezer and I’ll talk you through it.
AO: How do you know I have anything to eat in there?
Me: Because I do your shopping.
(She gets a pot roast dinner out while I pull the manual to her microwave up on my iPad. I have the manuals to all her appliances in Evernote for just such occasions)
Me: And why do you think you are pregnant?
AO: My mother said when you started burning your cooking you must be pregnant.


Oh, Grandma, if you only knew . . .