Never Underestimate the Mom

Last year my husband somehow got it into his head that we (him, myself and the man-child) needed Nerf guns for Christmas.  The guns are plastic and shoot these little yellow bullets that are made from nerfy-spongey stuff with a purple, plunger like tip, that if shot up real close, they will stick to your glasses.  Trust me on this.

The little "mock" battles that we had were fun for like um, a minute.  So I, in my infinite mother's wisdom, took it upon myself to hide them after the third day of being ambushed from behind the recliner by my husband.  One would think that I would have started to anticipate the impact of the spongy bullet once the giggling had commenced from behind the furniture, but alas, he was just too darn quick for me.

Now this year, he once again took it upon himself to ensure that we, as a family had many more hours of fun.  He bought us the Three-Shooter Pistols.  Yes, yes, I know!  I was thrilled (I say this while rolling my eyes so far back that I almost pass out).

Now these might not look that cool to you, but apparently the hubby thought so.  Most of Christmas day was spent in a Nerf battle of epic proportions.  Between Man-Child and the Hubby ganging up on me and then me scrambling around trying to collect all of the ammo off the floor, it was a sight to see I assure you. But then I remembered something.

Mwahahaha, I laugh while rubbling my hands together in evil glee.  I have suddenly remembered where I hid the SHOTGUNS!

I barricaded myself in the bedroom so I could get to my secret weapon stash.  The Hubby is concerned and contrite.  "Seriously, I am done playing guys." I say in my best "Mom" voice.  "You guys can play but I don't want to be hit anymore."  I could hear the Hubby telling Man-Child that I was getting irritated and they decided to put the guns away and watch a movie.  That was their first mistake.

Their second mistake was completely reloading their pistols and leaving them on the kitchen counter, out of sight from the living room where they sat.  I quietly snuck into the kitchen and snagged them, and went back into the bedroom to prepare.  I now had three, fully loaded pistols, and two double barrel shotguns.  They, well, they had nothing.  Hee Hee.

The pistols have convenient little clips so you can hang them from your belt.  Which I was eternally grateful for since I had a shotgun in each hand.  They never saw it coming.

I waited outside the kitchen door, shotguns at the ready.  I knew that it was just a matter of time before one of them got thirsty.  Poor Hubby.  He was the first to get hit.  Straight in the neck as he drank milk straight out of the carton with the fridge door open.  All he saw was a flash of purple velour robe as I ducked back out of sight. But not before I saw him reach for the pistols that were no longer there.  Then he ran.

"Take cover!" The Hubby and Man-Child barricaded themselves behind the sofa cushions while I pelleted them with the Nerf bullets.  Man-Child showed some brains and started picking up the ammo and throwing them at me.  Considering his bathroom skills, I was surprised by his accurate aim.  But it also gave me the opportunity to re-load.  Thanks.

The war raged on for a grueling ten minutes.  We then called a truce.  Well, sort of.  I rounded up all the ammo and reloaded, then put the guns away.  The next day while the guys were out, I hid them all around the house.  Now when they are being douche-bags, I like to randomly shoot them with the lovely little, yellow spongy bullet.  Take that!

This video here has nothing to do with me but it's funny.

What Goes Around Comes Around. (well sorta)

A couple a things here.  I just now realized that I have had my couch that I paid $800 for; well, I hate to admit it but, I've had that damn couch for longer than any car I've ever owned.  I think that is just sad.  Other than that I am not sure what else to say about that.

The other thing is that I have discovered a "dog-whisperer" moment that I had without even anticipating or manufacturing it.  You know when your dog is a puppy and it chews on everything?  And do you also remember that it was one of three things?  Shoes, underwear and the remote were the three in my house.  And the usual reaction on my part was grabbing the item being chewed on and whacking the pup in the butt or on the nose with the said item.  (That last sentence was the part that gets all the hate mail going; telling me what a bad dog owner I am.  I would love to know if those same people ever laid a whack on the butt of a two year old when they were doing something wrong.  Same shit, different species.)  So because of my remote-control-nose-whacking I have discovered that if I just lay the remote(s) on the seat of the cushion of the couch when I get up for something, I don't have a dog I have to tell to get down.  They don't go near the remote, so they don't go near my spot.

I remember when I was a kid, that whenever we got up off of the couch or a chair, we had to say, "I get my spot back." or someone else would snag it.  (You gotta realize that I come from a family of 10, so actual places to sit while watching TV, that did not involve the floor, were at a premium.)  Oh, and you never got in "mamma's spot". Ever.  The other day the kid tried to snag my spot on the couch and I just looked at him.  He moved with a sheepish grin. It was just then when I realized that I have the power now.  I'm the momma and that's my spot.  Move it or lose it.

Turn Around and Say Hello to Yourself

Do you ever feel like you have several different sides to you?  You know, different parts of your personality that you show to different people?  I know that I try to "keep it real" and be true to myself, but what does that really mean?  Does it mean that I have no filter and just say everything that pops outta my mouth at any given time?  It sure used to.  And guess what?  It's not the coolest thing in the world to be like that.  The other day the hubby decided that he didn't feel like having a filter, and all I wanted to do all day was pop him in the mouth or slap him upside the head at any given moment.

I seem to have learned to ignore all the "devils" that sit on my shoulder whispering in my ear at any given moment.  I have also learned (probably with age) that sometimes it's more entertaining to sit back and watch people as if they were my own personal TV show, instead of me being the star of the show.

For instance, I was at my hubby's company Christmas party and in the past I would have been one of the people who drank too much, and danced too flamboyantly and ended up on YouTube.  Instead, I allowed others to take the limelight that used to be mine.  And guess what?  That light isn't as bright as I used to think.  I watched, and I actually didn't even think it looked all that fun.  I had more fun playing Wii Disk Golf off in the corner.  I left early, the hubby came home at 6:30 in the morning and woke up feeling like shit.  His problem of his own making.  Me, I had a good day baking and watching movies while making absolutely no effort to be quiet so he could sleep.

I use to try to get people to see things my way all of the time.  Now I don't care.  Now don't get me wrong.  I still think I am right and everyone else can screw themselves.  But I no longer think it's important to make sure everyone else thought that way too.  They can think what they want, I know that I am right, and I no longer feel the need to shove it in anyone's face anymore. Or maybe I just don't have the energy anymore, it's hard work trying to get people to see things my way.

I am no longer going to argue with someone about there actions when I think they are doing something that I deem "wrong".  First of all, who am I to judge?  Secondly, why do I care about what someone else is doing?  I do care if you are hurting yourself, but if you are going to do it anyway after knowing how I feel about it, who am I to stop you?  It's just exhausting.