I admit it. I subject my kids to my “oldies”. Just as I listened to my mother’s 8 tracks and developed an appreciation for Linda Ronstadt, my children are developing an appreciation of my playlists… Madonna… and Michael Jackson…. and MC Hammer… and Devo.
As a child I sang along with songs like “You’re No Good”, “That’ll Be the Day”, and “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” (by Elton John and Kiki Dee)… Today, my kids are boppin’ along in the car to tunes such as “Whip It” and “You Can’t Touch This”. They also sing Veggie Tales and Cedarmont Kids songs, so they are not completely poisoned. I hope.
Anywho… as we blow our way through a fortune in gasoline, we fill our errand time in the car with music. What do the ears of my spawn hear in these classics of “my day”?
Apparently, Maddonna dreams of bagels. While the lyrics of “La Isla Bonita” might lead one to believe she dreamt of San Pedro, she IN FACT dreamt of a bagel… you know, that chewy bakery good that tastes best with cream cheese… “Last night I dreamt of a ba-a-gel.”
And it seems that Michael Jackson is not really singing about… well…. OK, I don’t know what he’s singing either. However, I am fairly certain he is not singing about eating hot dogs… BUT, forevermore, in the household of Ingram, the chorus of “Don’t Stop “til You Get Enough” will be sung, “Keep on. Eat a hot dog. Don’t stop ’til you get enough…” If this song WAS about consuming endless amounts of hot dogs, this might have been dedicated to Takeru Kobayashi.
The Victoria’s Secret bra-helper-lady said it. Specifics don’t matter, it just matters that the Victoria’s Secrect bra-measurer-lady said I was perfect as she sized me up in the bra stall. Maybe I haven’t made myself clear… the word “perfect” was used in a bra stall with me in it. Some call it a changing room, it felt more like a stall of bras.
Hey - I’ll take what I can get, ladies. I’ve had 3 kids. Assume as you will, 3 kids and nursing will do no woman any favors. So, when she measured me and said, “Oh, well YOU are a PERFECT 36.” I nearly gasped. Aw, shucks. Really? Never mind the fact that I am smack-dab in the middle of 2 cup sizes (so convenient), my Victoria’s Secret attendant for the evening said I was, “………………. perfect………”.
She should know.
is TOTALLY making it hard to keep from eating.
Really, how can one not feel REAL pangs of hunger as freshly grated parmesan is lovingly sprinkled upon a delightful bed of pasta… splashed lavishly in cups of butter and garlic snuggling beneath bright red slices of baked tomatoes with skins popping in perfectly cooked goodness?
Good thing the only stuff I keep on-hand are crackers shaped like cardboard and little fishies.
You’re right. I’m lying. I have chocolate chips on-hand too. I’ve taped the bag closed before. I have. I used USPS approved mailing tape. I am here to tell you when the tension is great enough, even packing tape behaves more like perforated paper (oh, the knife acts as the perferator).
I throw away ice cream sometimes. I have actually grown out of my passion for ice cream, unless it’s a Peanut Butter Oreo Blizzard from DQ… I digress… I throw away cake. I toss candy and cookies. I have no stopper. Except when it comes to vegetables.
What time does DQ close on Saturday nights???????
Wicker Warehouse get my address? Really, a whole catalog devoted to wicker. Fascinating… fascinating…
My husband said it’s because I’ve finally lost some weight… so now wicker can bear the size of my fanny. He’s so sweet to me :) OK, he was joking… like when I ask if my shirt makes me look fat, he says, “No, it’s your neck.”
I digress… I would be much more interested in a catalog like, Wicking Warehouse. Ya know, a catalog of water wicking workout wear. Now, that’s something I could slip my hips into.
Latest Comments
RSS