In the checkout line at Walmart, the cashier gave me a compliment which pleased me ridiculously. It reminded me of the best compliment I got all summer.
The Walmart compliment: I know how I like my groceries packed, so when I'm checking out I place on the conveyor belt first my insulated bag, then all my cold things, then my canvas shopping bags, then the remaining groceries grouped for each bag. After checking out my groceries, the cashier said, "You know, I wish everyone would load the belt like you do. It really makes things easier for me." How embarrassing how thrilled I was!
The best compliment of the summer: I was driving my mother and two daughters across the state to visit my sister and her family. We picked up lunch on the way at a McDonald's drive-thru. I placed my order* at the menu board, then drove to the first window. As I handed the clerk my money, she said, "Wow! You gave the best order! I didn't have to ask any questions. You really did that well!" Driving to the second window, my mom said, "She sure went on and on about that," which proves that I am, in fact, an impressive orderer. I was so proud that, for the rest of the weekend whenever I wanted a boost, I'd replay my order in my head. We stopped at a different McDonald's on the way home. I felt a bit cocky when my turn came. And I blew it! I believe that's called "hubris."
*The Order (as spoken at the Carlisle McDonald's on August 9, 2009)
"I'd like a hamburger kid's meal with french fries, a Diet Coke, and a girl's toy (Author's note: Yes, I'm a bad mom). I'd also like a kid's meal that's a cheeseburger plain with no meat, so it's just a grilled cheese sandwich, with french fries, Hi-C, and a girl's toy. I'd like a Number 7, grilled, sandwich only, with a large Diet Coke, and a Number 11 meal with a Diet Coke." (All rights reserved.)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Heckuva Job, Cathy
Proof that, once again, I'm deficient as a mom.
I believe that screen time of all sorts should be limited. Really, I do. But since my daughter said, after I kept reminding her she had to be back home by 8:00, "Geez, I heard you. Be back by 8; 7 Central", I'm guessing my money and my mouth are in separate places.
I believe that screen time of all sorts should be limited. Really, I do. But since my daughter said, after I kept reminding her she had to be back home by 8:00, "Geez, I heard you. Be back by 8; 7 Central", I'm guessing my money and my mouth are in separate places.
Monday, August 10, 2009
My Boyfriends
In no particular order:
1. Russell Brand (British comedian, seen in the movies "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" and "Bedtime Stories"): He's just so crazy sexy and edgy and confident.
2. Duane "The Rock" Johnson: He's gorgeous and sweet.
3. Doug Fabrizio (NPR radio guy out of Salt Lake City): He always reads the books his guests are shilling and asks insightful questions. Also, in conversation (with his radio guests, not with me), he takes a moment before he speaks, because (unlike me) he doesn't confuse "listening" with "waiting."
4. Jeff Bridges: Such charisma is breathtaking.
5. Keith Partridge (not David Cassidy, though): My first true love. I cannot speak more about it.
My girls get crazy when I refer to these men as my boyfriends. "But you like Daddy more, right?" is the common refrain. I'm not sure if I actually do like Daddy more, but at least I know him, which is always helpful in a relationship. More importantly, Bill (aka Daddy) is excellent first-husband material. We are truly yin yang. I'm verbal, he's mathematical. I'm, let's say, relaxed; he's industrious. I'm frugal; he's (because I like the way this word sounds) spendy. I like to sit; he likes to move. I'm very much the mother/nurturer; he's very much the father/protector. Being so different means we can fill in each other's gaps, creating a whole for our children. This also means we don't have too much in common. (Though I do like Dr. Phil's answer to that complaint - "You share children and a house! What more do you want in common?" - comforting, even if it comes from such a pompous windbag.)
I've been noticing that second marriages, entered after the children are grown, are often between yin and yin (not counting, of course, the trophy wife thing), and these marriages seem very companionable. Without the imperative of providing that balance of differences to the children, it's time to kick back with a spouse not so different, and lose all the drama that comes from being opposites. Plus, since the husband and wife have their own kids, no spouse can credibly accuse the other of having wrecked them.
Here's where my friend Mary would squint in incredulity and wonder why I'd want to be with someone just like me, instead of with someone who would challenge me in new directions and remind me that my perspective isn't the only one. (My answer, of course, is that I've always preferred the easy way out.) Since I know how much divorce hurts even grown children, I'd never really try to go for the easy marriage anyway. And my survival mechanism knows that, without someone like Bill in my life, I'd get bedsores from the couch (couchsores?). Plus, I love him.
Still, all of the above is up for grabs if Russell, Duane, Doug, Jeff, or Keith ever come calling.
1. Russell Brand (British comedian, seen in the movies "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" and "Bedtime Stories"): He's just so crazy sexy and edgy and confident.
2. Duane "The Rock" Johnson: He's gorgeous and sweet.
3. Doug Fabrizio (NPR radio guy out of Salt Lake City): He always reads the books his guests are shilling and asks insightful questions. Also, in conversation (with his radio guests, not with me), he takes a moment before he speaks, because (unlike me) he doesn't confuse "listening" with "waiting."
4. Jeff Bridges: Such charisma is breathtaking.
5. Keith Partridge (not David Cassidy, though): My first true love. I cannot speak more about it.
My girls get crazy when I refer to these men as my boyfriends. "But you like Daddy more, right?" is the common refrain. I'm not sure if I actually do like Daddy more, but at least I know him, which is always helpful in a relationship. More importantly, Bill (aka Daddy) is excellent first-husband material. We are truly yin yang. I'm verbal, he's mathematical. I'm, let's say, relaxed; he's industrious. I'm frugal; he's (because I like the way this word sounds) spendy. I like to sit; he likes to move. I'm very much the mother/nurturer; he's very much the father/protector. Being so different means we can fill in each other's gaps, creating a whole for our children. This also means we don't have too much in common. (Though I do like Dr. Phil's answer to that complaint - "You share children and a house! What more do you want in common?" - comforting, even if it comes from such a pompous windbag.)
I've been noticing that second marriages, entered after the children are grown, are often between yin and yin (not counting, of course, the trophy wife thing), and these marriages seem very companionable. Without the imperative of providing that balance of differences to the children, it's time to kick back with a spouse not so different, and lose all the drama that comes from being opposites. Plus, since the husband and wife have their own kids, no spouse can credibly accuse the other of having wrecked them.
Here's where my friend Mary would squint in incredulity and wonder why I'd want to be with someone just like me, instead of with someone who would challenge me in new directions and remind me that my perspective isn't the only one. (My answer, of course, is that I've always preferred the easy way out.) Since I know how much divorce hurts even grown children, I'd never really try to go for the easy marriage anyway. And my survival mechanism knows that, without someone like Bill in my life, I'd get bedsores from the couch (couchsores?). Plus, I love him.
Still, all of the above is up for grabs if Russell, Duane, Doug, Jeff, or Keith ever come calling.
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