My Super Power IS...

I have to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Promise?

I am a superhero.

I know, I know it sounds crazy (not me). I just realized this earlier today, and I have been marveling over it all day.

Of course, I CAN'T fly or shoot lazer beams out of my eyes.

I CAN'T see through walls, or hear my neighbors plotting to steal my morning paper.

I CAN'T run fast or jump high.

I CAN'T see into the future, or travel through time.


BUT

I CAN change out the toilet paper roll when it is empty!!!

I amaze my friends and family with this ability, and I can't believe I was completely oblivious to it until recently. It's kind of nice knowing I can do something EVERYONE else can't. Puts a smile on my face.

I'm awesome. I just need a cool name and fancy suit.
Any ideas?
~NM



This my post for Inspiration Underground's Jar Draw:1 "A Smile"

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Marvin was Hot... Sorta

I have written before about how I was guilted into marrying my beloved Marvin. Well yes, he sort of conned me into it, but I was into him... at one point in time. I mean technically I still am, if you call it that. We are married, and we hang out; I like him alright.


We were childhood friends, so it's not like I always liked him. I did enjoy throwing rocks at his head as he drove past my house on his bike calling me names that rhymed with "stink" and "crap" (*sigh* always the poet).


In highschool, Marvin went through this punk rock phase, and for the most part he still enjoys the music, but definitely doesn't live the punk rock life. I remember the moment I actually thought I had a crush on him, sadly he looked a lot like Gary Oldman in Sid and Nancy.


Today he's a closer match for George Costanza from Seinfeild - add some tattoos and a tad more hair. Oh and a bit of height too... You know what I mean?





It's funny how we always turn into our parents. No matter how far out there we go we always round back onto this conservative pallet. Whether it be now or when we're playing checkers 30 years from now outside the retirement center.


For some reason, I can't picture a 75 year old man sitting at a table in his leather jacket with that hand sewn Dead Kennedys patch, spike-studded choker, and bone through his nose saying "king me, Rocko!" while throwing back some jim or jack and spitting while flipping the bird. That's one hell of a sentence!


People change. Marvin's changed. I mean, just last night when he got home from work, he sat down and watched the news. The second his butt hit the sofa and his feet hit the coffee table, his mouth dropped open and he was snoring. The children were bouncing on him like a trampoline and Seven was chewing his socks... nothing.


I watched the slide show in my head of the rise and fall of the punk rocker: the days he tramped in the pit, the excessive use of safety pins, and the spray painted combat boots. Marv's all domestic now. It sort of played out like some National Geographic documentary.


I am glad he turned out the way he did. Because if he spit on the kids, it would be my turn to do some stomping.

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HOMEOWNERS!!! WOOT!!!

It's been a while since I had the chance to write you. It's been crazy around here, and on top of it all I may be having a nervous breakdown and/or suffering from menopause... I haven't quite decided yet. Probably both.

We moved; finally bought our own home instead of renting and over paying each month. The prices are amazing right now since most of the homes are foreclosed or in the pre-foreclosure phase. I do feel a little sorry for the homeowners who got duped into ARM loans, but it just goes to prove "if something sounds too good to be true... it probably is."

We had been renting for the past two years, and were quite happy doing so. Sadly due to a chain of events we were actually being evicted.

1. We have incredibly smart children.
2. Incredibly smart children like to experiment with science.
3. Mad Science.
4. I deal with a series of plumbing issues I think have to do with paper in the toilet and/or possibly the tub in the children's bathroom.
5. I call property manager to have someone sent over to investigate.
6. Property Manager/real estate agent sends husband instead of a professional.
7. Upon snaking the toilet in the children's bathroom, Manager's Hubby finds a science experiment gone horribly wrong.
8. Experiment has the head of Barbie, body of a squeaky dog, and Bioncle arms...
9. Real-estate-hubby is not impressed and uses a string of colorful words
10. thus exciting one three-legged dog (Seven likes to protect the ears of the innocent)
11. Which we were not suppose to have in the terms of our lease
12. Ta Da!!! Eviction Notice!

It's not all a bad thing really. We bought a house, bigger than what we were renting, for about $500 less a month. Holy Crap, right? The mad scientists can perform their experiments outside in our hugeASS backyard, and the doggy poop can sit a day or two before it's scooped (maybe less... if the scientist start getting wise ideas).

THE BEST PART OF MOVING THOUGH HAS TO BE... No Willoughby. Thank you, Thank you,and Thank you!!

There is a woman a couple of houses down that might be a relative. She has the same pinched face and flowery Mumu. Once I am settled and the last box is sent off to recycling, I might brave a meeting... no promises.
~NM

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Welcome Home... Seven

Marvin and I have been talking about getting the kids a puppy for Christmas. He thought he would stop by and see what was up for adoption at the local pound on the way home from work today.

I didn't think he would bring anything home. I thought it was just a "look and see" trip. I was wrong.

Marv brought home a dog today; a small brown, fuzzy mutt with huge chocolate eyes. Marvin was so proud of himself when he showed me Seven, the three-legged dog he brought home for the kids for Christmas. He told me they named him Seven because that was the number of toes he had on his remaining feet???

"I thought you were getting a puppy?" I asked while I just shook my head, confused.

"He's little like a puppy..."

"How old is he?" I interrupted.

"Eight or nine... they think." He was running his hands all through Seven's fluffy curls with a childlike twinkle in his eyes.

"Eight or nine? Marv, what were you thinking? He's old and OBVIOUSLY impaired. We have kids who are going to be rough with him. Oh my gosh, Marv," I gasped, "What if they kill him?"

"God, Mary," he rushed in, "he's a tough little guy, the kids can't hurt him. He's a good dog, they even told me how great he is with kids"

I could see all the ways this could go horribly wrong in my head, but I tried to shake it off. "Alright, Marv..." He had the biggest, dorkiest smile (which was seriously making me sick to my stomach) plastered all over his face when he called the kids into the room.

They ran in at top speed. They didn't know Marvin was home, so they were excited to see him. They both came to a screaching halt when they saw the dog in their father's arms.

"Merry Christmas," Marv sat the little dog on the kitchen floor. Both of his front feet touched the tile simultaneously and then clinked the nails of his single hind leg.

The kids' eyes widened.

Sweet Pea began to scream, and Seven began to run in small circles. Baby Boy just stood there staring, while Marv tried to get Pea to settle down. I just stood there wishing I was somewhere else and crossing my fingers that the dog didn't pee all over my floor.

"That dog has three legs," B.Boy said flately still staring at the mini circus act/freak show that was playing out before our very eyes. Pea stopped screaming just long enough to catch her breath, and began again. Seven started to run throughout the living room/dining area in large figure eight patterns, obviously freaked by Pea's vocal chords (aren't we all).

I could just stand there with my mouth wide open/head shaking frantically. I think I was in shock. I had to get out of there. I excused myself, although I am sure it wasn't audible, and hid out in my bathroom... the sanctuary that is my bathtub.

I let them work out the ordeal.

Sometimes, I have to pat myself on the back for my quick thinking. When I finally decided I was brave enough to go back into the other room, I was shocked to find the three of them and our new three-legged dog, Seven, sitting on the couch eating cookies. Seven licking their smiling faces inbetween bites.

I was on my own for dinner.
They had cookies.... I had ice cream :-)
~NM

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