Twilight Zone Marathons growing up were the definition of holidays when we weren’t around our cousins. Now 138 episodes are available on Netflix, 25 minutes each. I’m not sure why season 4 is missing, though.Continue reading Twilight Zone Marathons!
(Tonight’s text to my 14 year old who chose to do next to nothing at school today and was pretty flippant with his mom about it)Continue reading Use Your Brain or Your Back
“Baby, it’s Cold Outside.” Read the lyrics. It’s creepy. Even outside of the beautiful harmony when it’s sung as a duet. But do not, under any circumstances, confuse the dialogue of this song with the non-consensual violence of the R-word. That’s a reach beyond any sense of reason. Yes, the male is persuading aggressively, so much so that it’s really uncomfortable when you read the lyrics on their own.Continue reading Baby Its Cold… Wait, WHAT?!
Requesting feedback: If you’ve had a child in elementary/middle school in the last year or two, how many online resources were you expected to track as a parent? How did that work out for you and your child?Continue reading Online Resources for Elementary Schools
Doctor: How much water do you drink every day?
Me: let’s see…coffee with breakfast, iced tea with lunch and wine with dinner. So, yeah, buckets of water.
Hypothesis: the “Layaway Santa’s” are not anonymous philanthropists walking in and paying off all of a single Walmart or Target store’s layaway purchases in the spirit of Christmas. Instead, it’s the company “paying” for the purchases (at cost) and publishing a press release announcing the anonymous Santa visited here, too.Continue reading Layaway Santa Conspiracy
Spicy peanut butter pizza is an actual thing. It’s exactly as white trash ghetto as you’d expect and exponentially more delicious than you’d imagine.
I’m going to fix the recipe but, jeez, the foundation flavor profile was far more fun than I anticipated.
I was handed a Swiss Army knife for my 5th birthday by my mom’s stepdad. As soon as I opened it I heard her sigh, “No!”
The thought of handing my 5-year old a pocket knife strikes me as absurd as handing one to either my 11 or 13-year old. But that’s because they’ve never handled a knife, never cut themselves, never used it incorrectly so that they could learn otherwise from experience. In turn, they’ve never sharpened a stick to use as a spear, never split twigs to use as tools, never fashioned a fish hook.
I’ve ensured their safety by denying them the opportunity of learning basic survival skills. What a terrible exchange rate.
“What?! No! You just went 5 minutes ago. You can hold it!”
“Seriously? We just left and all you did was stare at the wall. No way, I’m not stopping the car again.”
“Ohholyshit! Ok buddy I got you! Hang tight we’re gonna hustle and get you there! Hang on hang on hang on!”
Apparently I scold my bladder now as if it was one of my kids.
Getting old sucks. I’d hash tag that but I’m busy.
Dear Midnight Snack,
Mijo, I’m sorry. Sometimes even the best of plans don’t work out. But you know what? We don’t give in and we NEVER give up. We certainly don’t nosedive into a bowl of Sriracha to forget our problems. No, that’s never the answer.
I know how much you desperately wanted to be a taco tonight, mi amor. I’m so sorry it didn’t work out. But I’m proud of the pollo-stuffed quesadilla you became! Look at you! You’re going to be the best quesadilla everrrrrr! Muy guapo!
So, chin up! Go put on your freshest Tapatio! Show the world that nothing can get in your way! You’ve got this!
Now get in mah belly!