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It’s bedtime.
I’ve spent the past sixty minutes doing the following: sorting through kids’ dresser drawers and replacing summer tees with winter hoodies; hooking up lonesome socks congregating in a singles’ drawer; picking up books that have been flung by discus athletes-in-training; and removing embedded Lego pieces from my bare feet.
A typical evening.
Before the final tuck-in, I flick the kettle on, anxious for my evening cup of tea that reminds me my head is still connected to my body.
While I wait for the water to boil, I walk upstairs to the room William and Vivian share.
I am greeted by tinsel. Everywhere. It’s freaking Christmas. Vivian has even managed to tie up her teddy bear–whom she recently renamed Creamy Shirtliffe. Nothing like a stuffy with a str1pper name bound in silver and fuchsia tinsel.
I can’t unsheathe my sarcasm sword quickly enough, so I settle for my other weapon: a rhetorical grenade.
I say:
Vivian hugs her stuffy, looks up at me, and says, “Yes.” Her smile indicates that she knows she has blocked my attack.
“Very funny,” I say, picking tinsel off the carpet.
She and William perceive this as approval and burst into giggles on their beds. Picture two beetles stuck on their backs with their legs wriggling. Now resist the urge to step on them.
I complete the tuck-in, toss out the tinsel, and wonder how I’m supposed to parent without rhetorical questions.
It’s Whiteboard Wednesday, so I ask:
What bizarre things have you heard or said recently?
Alternatively, what’s your str1pper name?
I love this, how FUNNY! I mean, your re-telling of it; it could have very easily been tragic. I’m glad it wasn’t!
Thanks. Better the stuffy tied up than one of the twins…
My kid’s have a favorite thing that I said a long time ago. We aren’t a swearing family, so they thought it was hilarious. After a long and frustrating day, I said, “Shut the stink up!” Now, seeing that shut up was considering taboo, the addition of stink made my response downright naughty. It definitely turned a stressful moment into hysterical laughing…and I had a choice, I could get even angrier, or I could laugh too. I laughed.
“Shut the stink up!” Love it. When Vivian’s frustrated, she always says “WhatThe”. Sometimes “WhatTheHeck.” When she stops at WhatThe it sounds like something far worse is coming.
Glad you could laugh at yourself. Cheaper than therapy.
My oldest’s stuffed bear was named Dood. Even now as an adult, he can’t explain how he came up with that one.
Where did they find the tinsel?
Dood = what you get when you cross a dude with a druid?
Vivian yanked the multicoloured tinsel off one of her bike handles. New things don’t survive in our house. Except babies. Managed to keep two of those alive for 7 years so far.
Yeah, well, don’t get complacent. It’s early yet.
Tinsel from bike handles? One thing I don’t have to worry about with three boys (or if I did, that’s NOT what I’d be worrying about, haha).
My stripper name is “Vanilla Ice”.
Too funny. I am so using that…
Last night my daughter said to me “Can you get Mattie (our dog) detailed*? She smells like rotten butt.” I said “As opposed to fresh butt?”
*detailed is what we call dog grooming in our house.
“Detailed” – love that euphemism. And I howled at your response!
Creamy? I named my first teddy Butterscotch, but that doesn’t sound very stripperish.
Isn’t the formula for your stripper name your first pet’s name? If it is, mine is Pumpkin.
If that’s the case, mine is Friendli, which totally works. I would like to echo K.B. Owen who asked where’d they get the tinsel? It’s total contraband in my house. I’d sooner they had live ammunition, or snakes.
I’ve heard two ways to find your stripper name:
(1) Favourite/first pet’s name + name of street you grew up on
(2) Favourite/first pet’s name + mother’s maiden name.
My first name would either be Rebel or Roxie. I don’t need to change my last name…
Favorite pet and street I grew up in?
That would make me Frodo Tibby. Yech. I’d only be employable at a middle-earth strip-bar. 🙂
Laughing. Preciousssssss.
Sniffy Norfolk. That would surely have the fellas clamoring to tuck $$ into my skimpy stripper undies.
LOL!
Haha, why is that this is something we learn in school? I can remember having conversations with folks in middle school about it. Anyway, mine would be Muffin Montclair. Hmm. Fun post. I’m sure I’d laugh incessantly with your family around.
I don’t know how any one manages to parent without sarcasm. It seems to slide of my tongue with easy every day.
Love Creamy Shirtliffe! That’s the best bear name I’ve ever heard.
I know. My kids are starting to get sarcasm. No doubt filing it away for 5 years…
I just realized my stripper name (according to formula) is either Freckles Mandy. Hmmm…that works.
Thanks for the morning laugh. I needed it!
🙂 Happy writing day!
I wonder if people realize how good you have to be to take that scene of everyday life and write about it this well. I wonder if you realize how good it is. Funny? Yes. Gifted? Entirely.
I’ve been feeling that my funny is flailing a bit. Maybe it’s game time again. Thanks for the pick-me-up.
My stripper name would be Scooter. I’m not sure how sexy that is, but it’s got nothing on Creamy Shirtliffe.
Good stuff, Leanne. It amazes me how you can turn disaster (tinsel=disaster) into funny without losing your head. Oh, and I am of the belief that sarcasm is a prerequisite for parenting. Also, rhetorical questions. I could not survive without both of these techniques.
Scooter. Maybe at a Muppets strip club…
Monkey told me his Social Studies teacher is “stalling.”
After Open House, I totally see that he is right.
If your stripper name is the name of your childhood pet and your mother’s maiden name, I’m No Name Sabloff. I don’t think I’d get much action. 😉
Love picturing the kids on their backs like bugs!
Dear No Name:
I love how perceptive Middle School students are.
Diamond St Claire 😉
Ooh, nice one! 🙂
Indeed!
Creamy Shirtliffe IS an excellent stripper name! Mine, using that old “name of your first pet street yiu grew up on” trick is the also-excellent Princess Vinceton. Perhaps that is what I should have called my blog…
Princess Vinceton would be oh-so-topical in the wake of the Kate-William nuptials.
My stripper name was Trixie. Husband #1 said I reminded him of the little girl who sits in the sunbeam on a funny paper cartoon. Of course, my entire family adopted the name and then spread it to my co-workers.
Most of my family members have passed (and no, not under mysterious circumstances that could be related to me in any way) and I got to redefine myself. Humans don’t like to utilize three syllables every time they utter a name, and God forbid they should waste time typing 6 characters, so I settled for T. I like it. Everyone who actually knows me calls me T. T commands respect, though Trixie is significantly better at working the pole.
Creamy Shirtliffe. I LOVE it! Your funny is not floundering, it’s flourishing.
T, you’re a funny woman. Love the parenthetical comment explaining (?) the deaths. Thanks for taking the time to comment.
Scary coincidence:
My stripper name is Creamy Shirtliffe.
(small world gets smaller.)
You crack me up. Who’s going to trademark it? 😉
Whiteboard-worthy comment from my husband to our three kids, aged 4-7, this morning:
“Quit jumping on each other. Our bed is not a wrestling ring.”
Smokey Hampshire. That is why I went to college.
Never a dull moment, right?
Let me get selfish for a moment, Leanne; do you have any advice about self-publishing? It’s time to take You’ve Been Hooked! and The Book of Terrible to the next level.
I’d appreciate your input.
Using your formula above, my stripper name would be Star Taylor (first pet), or Hershey Taylor (favorite pet). Either way, they make pretty good stripper names, don’t you agree?
Herbie Haliburton, at your service.
Ok, so my first pet was my cat, Cornelius. But, no lie, I lived on Jones Lane (no relation). So…
“Cornelius Jones” sounds, um, more pimpish than stripperish.
We did have a dog named Candy… but that’s weird for a dood.
What happened to the coffee?