I would like to take an informal survey.
Don’t worry, I know your time is valuable, but I assure you, this is a very important matter.
Let’s say HYPOTHETICALLY that I was sitting on the couch watching TV. I’m watching, ohhhh, let’s say Big Bang Theory.
Then, what if John, my husband, came downstairs, grabbed the remote, and started flipping channels. WHILE THE SHOW WAS ON, NOT DURING A COMMERCIAL.
Would you think that it would be overreacting for me to FREAK THE HELL OUT and start snatching at the remote? How about if he gave me a shitty look and then both refused to let me have it back and did NOT return to the channel and show I was enjoying before he entered the room like some kind of Assholian Dictator?
If this kind of a scenario, or you know, something like it, happened, then would it be kind of over the top if I lost my shit and yelled, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!??” while visualizing myself strangling him until his lips turned blue and fell off? Would that just be too much?
I mean, it is only television after all. What do you think?
You know, I’m just wondering, in case something like that ever actually happens and I had the strong urge to beat my husband about the face relentlessly with the remote once I finally did snatch it back.
This way, I’ll know if it’s justified or not.
Thank you for your time.
Lazy Douche Enablers: Jamie, Blonde Mom Blog
Lazy Douche Enablers write posts for me every other Tuesday. That way, I can be a much better… you guessed it: Lazy Douche. Today’s Enabler is Jamie, of Blonde Mom Blog.
In Which I Reveal My Unbridled Hatred For Dora
My youngest daughter is 4 and still drinks the sickeningly sweet Dora Kool Aid served up with a side of oddly shaped football head and the incapacity to speak without yelling.
We’ve acquired a motley crew of Dora dolls that talk (thank God for hard to find batteries that mysteriously “die” and cannot be replaced) plus a talking Dora cash register. Thankfully we do have one doodle pad Dora theme toy that is blissfully silent. The Dora dolls, however, have those creepy eyes half-rolled back into their heads while they wait to be recharged in the corner of my daughter’s room perched on, what else, a Dora chair. I’m not sure what’s worse…hearing Wishing Fairy Dora sing over and over again or seeing her passed out like a nightmarish Latina Bride of Chucky doll ready to kill me with “Where Are We Going…TO HELL…mwaa haa haa haa.”
Seriously. The dolls are nightmare inducing. It’s enough for me to grab them one by one, shake them, and scream, “Dora, Shut The Fuck Up!!!!”
I guess I’ve watched one too many episodes of Dora where I find myself secretly rooting for her and Boots, the dumb as a box of taco shells monkey, because I know it will come out, “Dora, Shut The Fuck Up… Por Favor!!!”
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Jamie has been writing about the more humorous, and messier, moments of life in the dog hair/estrogen filled vortex she calls home at BlondeMomBlog since 2005, but has never used the real F word on her blog. Muchas gracias, Lotus.
Armoire, How I Love Thee
A few days ago, I built an entertainment center. John and I have never had one, so this was a very cool thing to us.
In Austin, there was a hole built into the wall that the mammoth of a TV we owned then sat in. We sold that giant when we moved to TN, and used our old bedroom TV as our new living room tv.
That’s right. No more bedroom TV. This was actually a purposeful turn of events. We decided that TV is really not a bedroom event. There are other things to be done in the bedroom, sleep being one of them, but definitely not the only thing. No bedroom in our home will ever have a TV in it again. (Have I mentioned before how TV is the devil?)
So, anyway, the tv we’ve been using sits on a small, ancient (my mom bought it used, at a yard sale, when I was a kid) end table-type stand. All the electronic equipment (dvd player, receiver, vhs player, xbox) has always just been underneath the table… but this is NOT childproof!
So, in order to protect our son, and our electronic equipment, we’ve had to have other things blocking the front of the TV area to keep Braden away since he’s been mobile… some things haven’t even been hooked up since we moved to the house… and, in general it was just, well… totally ghetto-fied. So we invested some moolah into buying our first, real, badass EC.
Our EC is made of real Brazilian Pine (so I can think of Evelynn while I gaze upon it) in a honey stain. It was way cheaper than most of the ones I found ‘out there,’ but matches our other living room furniture wonderfully, and had all the features we wanted.
Its professional name is “Armoire,” my friends. The cabinet doors fold back all the way for our viewing pleasure, and then they close completely when it’s time for the TV to go “bye-bye.” (This is what we tell Braden after a viewing session of, say, Baby Einstein or “It’s a Big, Big World.” We turn it off, wave at it, and say, “Bye-bye, TV!”)
And, by the way, I rock at putting things together. I love building projects. Home-improvement projects, and the like, are my thing. My dad definitely passed on the “handy-man gene” to his middle child.
Check it out:
Tools/Supplies:
Showing off the building materials.
Preparing to build, and happy about wielding a hammer!
Screwing and handling knobs.
It’s taking shape!
Ahhh… gaze upon its “almost done” beauty!
Celebrating how much I Rock.
John decides to help me finish up by hammering the back piece onto the unit.
Notice the naked baby leg behind him. Heh.
Braden helps John hammer on the back piece. We couldn’t have done it without him!
And now we have the TV and equipment inside, set up in rudimentary fashion. When John returns from this weekend’s “Time to Make the Doughnuts” road trip, he’ll set to the task of setting everything up right, complete with running speaker cables and mounting our surround sound speakers.
And then we’re gonna rent some badass porn.
Okay, so, maybe not.
Isn’t our new armoire lovely?
*sigh*
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