While visiting our home, my husbands 86 year old grandma, Chris, got a glimpse of our laundry.
Her concern with my choice of underwear soon became apparent to the entire family when she quit seriously said,
"Laurie, honey, There's no material in those panties you wear, your monkey will fall out."
Using my fingers to show size,
I said," It's ok Chris, My monkey is teeny tiny, it wont fall out."
This tickled her to no end and she's never worried about my choice of panties again.
This has always amazed me that an 86 year old woman could be this concerned
over my choice of underwear but totally unconcerned with announcing it to
the entire family on our front porch.
Ahh. Precious memories..
This is my pooter. Not to be confused with my stuff. That's entirely different although I
can see where it could be confusing.
My sister encountered the same problem recently in a very odd yet entertaining conversation we had recently which she posted on her blog. Nothing is sacred to a blogger..
Anyway, Pooter is my dwarf bunny. 50 pounds of personality stuffed into a 2 pound body.
Pooter got his name for obvious reasons but I'm going to tell you anyway.
Once I brought Pooter home, the first several days Pooter was my personal Pez machine.
Dropping his little "pooters" as he happily bounded thru the house with me close on his
tail (literally) scooping up his little "presents" as fast as he could dispense them.
"No No, Dont Pooter"
"Did You Pooter Again?"
"We Dont Pooter On The Couch"
Well, needless to say, after several days of this brilliant dialogue, my bunny answered to the
name Pooter. It did seem an appropiate name at the time.
And that's how my bunny became my Pooter.
Oh, and my stuff. Well that's a story for another time...
I live with my husband, 2 sons, 2 cats, ( one male, one female ) and a dwarf bunny, and yes, my bunny is also male.
Five males and just us 2 girls.
It can be trying at times and lord knows I have permanent creases in my brow from those "YOU DID WHAT " moments but for the most part it's really not bad.
We've had our occasional bouts when someones wee wee gets in a bunch and I've had a few near misses when the testosterone starts flying.
I use to think or fantasize really, that once my boys were older it would get easier.
My household would run more smoothly...
Then reality sets in and you realize that your the only one capable of cooking, cleaning or scrubbing a toilet. Reality hurts.
I've held my own over the years and still reign supreme ( for the time being ), after all, I hold the key to clean clothes and an endless supply of food.
Yeah, I may be out numbered but I think it'll be ok.
A few things about me but not too much, it would kill the suspense.
I live with my husband, two sons, and a few pets.
I enjoy crafts when I have time. Plastic canvas, beading and I have been trying my hand at crochet for more years than I care to admit and have failed to catch on to anything past a chain stitch.
I've been a wife, (twice), a mother, ( a few times).
I passed my mid-forties a few years ago and have experienced many things to get here. Some weren't that great and some really weren't that bad.
I'm pretty up front. If it smells like dookey, it probably is and I wont call it something it's not.
You can see where that might cause some problems.
But that's me. Take me as I am, with or without makeup...
P.S. I'm pretty new at this blogger stuff so if you have any suggestions, ( be nice please)
or helpful hints, I'd appreciate the input.
