Tag Archives: Boys Are Gross

Are You Crapping Me?

Captain’s Log, Star Date December 12, 2013.

It’s been 13 days since Kiefer left for his business trip. He should return today.

But…if he doesn’t…I don’t know…how much longer I’ll survive on my own.

I’ve seen things…no woman should have to see. I’m done things…no pregnant woman should have to do. ::shudder::

It all started with laryngitis. Laryngitis that’s still not gone because it’s impossible to rest my voice when I’m the only person around to stop Ozzy Pups from stealing socks (Drop it!).

Then there was all of that snow.

But now, things have just gotten progressively harder.

Boo and his friend hung out at the house for a couple hours before basketball practice. Boo’s friend used the bathroom…and he…clogged the toilet in MY bathroom, not the kids’ bathroom.

Of course, I didn’t discover the clog until I was already doing the pee-pee dance. I had two options:

  1. Use the kids’ bathroom upstairs…which is never a good idea.
  2. Unclog the toilet myself.

Since I’ve never actually plunged a toilet, and because a pregnant woman with a heightened sense of smell should never have to plunge a toilet that’s been clogged by a kid that’s not even hers, I choose Option #3:

Call Dad to unclog the toilet while I ran Boo and his friend to practice.

I’ve decided to head off future bathroom problems by placing a woman figure on my bathroom door.

If Kiefer isn’t home this afternoon, this may be my last entry. Please send reinforcements…and extra bathrooms.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I agree…that’s classic protective behavior. Ozzy is putting himself between you and potential frosty danger, just like a Secret Service man. You should get him a little earpiece and some shades.”—BluzDude


Radley Discovers the Pun

When Kiefer and I first started dating, Radley was 5. He was a cutie who always wanted me to carry him or let him sit in my lap.

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We may or may not have also been into matching the color of our shirts.

And then one time, Radley farted…while he was in my lap.

I told him it would be great if he could stand up next time. So from then on, randomly he would pop off my lap, take a few steps away, fart, and then climb back into my lap.

It was hilarious.

In addition to farting-lapsitting etiquette, Radley also had no idea what sarcasm was.

Kiefer: Thoughtsy, look! A pumpkin scone!

Thoughtsy: My favorite!

Radley: Wait…I thought you didn’t like pumpkin?

Now Radley’s almost 11, and he loves sarcasm.

Radley: Now don’t eat my pumpkin pie, Thoughtsy. I know how much you love it.

Not only has he mastered sarcasm, he’s also mastered the pun:

Radley busts in on Boo while he’s in the bathroom. Screaming and laughing commences. Then…

Radley: Dad, I think I broke the bathroom door knob! I think it needs to be screwed back in.

Kiefer: Stop screwing around up there! (This pun was completely unintentional.)

Radley: Nice one, Dad. I see what you did there. Screw. Ha-ha!

Radley still has a lot to learn though.

Radley: I want to be Michael Myers or Jason for Halloween.

A couple weeks later when Kiefer and I were watching Halloween

Radley: Who is that guy?

Obviously, we’ve spent too much time on word play and not enough time watching horror movies.

Got any kid stories to share? They don’t have to be your kids.


Boy or Girl?

All the pregnancy books say you find out the sex of your baby around 18-20 weeks. They lie!

Ok, maybe they don’t lie. Maybe they just say that because that’s when normal pregnancies have the second trimester ultrasound. However, I’m having ultrasound every two weeks.

So imagine my surprise when this happened just before the 14-week mark:

Doctor: Your cervix looks good. So do you want to know the sex of the baby?

Thoughtsy: Wait…what? Yes, please!

Doctor: Looks like…a girl.

Thoughtsy: Really? Hurray! Wait…Are you sure? Because Kiefer already has two boys. I’m pretty sure he only produces boys.

Doctor: Almost definitely a girl. Oh wait…maybe not. I think it’s still just a little early. We’ll tell you at your next appointment.

Thoughtsy: I hate you….

So I didn’t really say, “I hate you.”

My next appointment is this week. What do you think: boy or girl?

The wedding was wonderful! You can see my (and Misty’s and Hippie’s) reception shoes on Facebook.


How to Join the Heman-Womun Haters Club

When I first moved in with Kiefer, Boo, and Radley, I was scared.

That’s a lot of boys.

Sure Esme the cat is a girl, but she’s a whore. She’s only on my side when it’s convenient for her. Like when I’m holding a can of food.

To try to understand boy behavior, I watched The Little Rascals. Here’s what I learned:

  • Little boys don’t know that the number for 911 is 9-1-1.
  • Boys roast marshmallows while their clubhouse burns to the ground. Priorities, you know.
  • Boys will get back a girl by whipping out his lizard…literally a lizard. As in the reptile.
  • Boys like to chase ducks with a string and a dollar tied to their feet.
  • Booby trap your most prized possessions with pickles.

Follow all of those steps and you’ll fit right in.

Most importantly, I learned that if a boy ever makes you a sandwich and it’s crunchy, don’t eat it. Those aren’t potato chips giving it that crunch.

What? Us? We didn’t do anything. I can’t believe you would accuse us of that.

Crunchy sandwiches mean the cat has joined forces and allowed them to use some litter as a condiment.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “You have to like those hats though. I ordered one just to wear around, like when I go to the store.”—Omawarisan


The Pee Splash Zone

Living with someone is an adjustment. I already wrote about Kiefer’s adjustments, but here are a couple of mine.

Adjustment #1

Since I’m in charge of laundry, I like to make sure I get everything. I love the sight of an empty laundry hamper. So I started picking up clothes strewn about the floor.

Kiefer: Have you seen my red t-shirt?

Thoughtsy: Maaaaaybe.

Kiefer: I left it right here. (::points to a spot on the floor::)

Thoughtsy: I picked it up. It’s in the washer.

Kiefer: Just because it’s on the floor doesn’t mean it’s dirty.

What the heck kind of logic is that? Clean clothes go in drawers or closets. Maybe thrown over the back of a chair. Not on the floor.

If he can leave clean clothes on the floor, what’s to stop Boo and Radley from leaving clean clothes on the floor? It’ll be anarchy!

Adjustment #2

You probably don’t know this about me, but I eat a lot of dessert. A lot. To balance all the sweets, I eat a lot of fruit and veggies. I also check my weight on a scale to make sure I don’t overconsume my desserts.

Kiefer: There’s a scale in the bathroom.

Thoughtsy: Yes. I weigh myself every morning.

Kiefer: It’s right next to the toilet.

Thoughtsy: I don’t see your point. It’s out of the weigh way there. I slide it in and out when I need it.

Kiefer: I have two boys….

Thoughtsy: I don’t understand. Is there a splash zone? Don’t they pee in the toilet?

Kiefer: Mostly.

Thoughtsy: Mostly? Ewwww….

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Are you registered anywhere? Do you need help with boxes? Can I bring you a bundt cake?”—The Hipster