I have to tell you how my four year old nephew is a kick. in. the pants. On Saturday after I had a haircut from hell I went to my parents for dinner. As for the haircut, all you have to know is I was at the salon for two and a half hours and ended leaving before she was finished and styling it myself at home. It was tragic.
Anyway, it was a good thing I had fun plans afterwards because I was in one hell of a pissy mood. After I vented to Chuckles, and my mom…and my sister…and my dad I was finally ready to enjoy the delicious homemade lasagna my mom had made. So…right…I didn’t really want to bore you with my whining – I wanted to share the hilarity that is my nephew. (At least I think he’s hilarious…I could be biased though.)
So I sat next to him at dinner, which started with him wanting salad or, more specifically, the crunchy things. LOTS OF CRUNCHY THINGS. Screw the lettuce. Later my dad was trying to get Jared to eat more of his lasagna and Jared was getting tired of it so he told Grandpa that he KNEW the lasagna was good. Sheesh. To which my dad said well you should tell Grandma you like it. So Jared turned to my mom and said, “Grandma it is gooder than good!” The little kiss ass. He knows how to get an extra brownie. My sister had promised him that if he ate enough dinner he could have dessert, which pretty much put him over the moon.
A little later as my sister and I were talking very animatedly about this girl at her high school Jared very loudly announced that he had lots of things he needed to say. Erin told him he had to choose only one thing to say and then he had to go play. Jared took a deep breath and then said, “It is very important that I say that everybody is going to get dessert when they finish dinner and you have to come and tell me IMMEDIATELY when it is time for dessert.” He then got down from the table and started running around the house while singing the same two lines from Mamma Mia over and over and over again:
Mamma Mia, here I go again
My my, how can I resist him?
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
How I Got My Kitchen Aid Mixer
I have to say my mom is pretty cool and I’m not just saying that because I am pretty much an exact replication of my mom. I say it because she makes horrible bets and as a result I’ve gotten a lot of free stuff.
I’m not the only she makes bets with; in fact I’m pretty sure that it is her favorite pastime. For example, when I was away at college and my younger brother was still at home for some unknown reason they got into a discussion about how many times I had braces growing up: little bro said twice and my mom said, “Only once, are you kidding me?! I think I would remember shelling out that kind of dough!” Of course, a bet had to be made as to who was right and I was promptly called and asked the question. No “How are you?” “How’s college treating you?” Just, “How many times did you have braces?” Not even a goodbye. Anyway, the answer was twice. Yes, I had terrible terrible teeth. So my brother got new bedding while my mom went to the orthodontist and demanded that after all the money they’ve received from our family there should at least be a chair in the lobby dedicated to our family.
Two years ago I went on vacation with her to the Oregon coast and did not buy one thing for myself. Every game of cribbage or cards played was with the caveat that loser pays for breakfast or loser pays for coffee etc. etc. Like I said I received a LOT of free meals.
But by far the best bet I made was, alas, my last because my dad finally told her she had to stop because he was tired of buying all this free stuff for me…that and I almost had her hooked for a free computer twenty minutes later and he just couldn’t let that happen.
It occurred right after I moved into my Green Lake apartment and was whining constantly about how I didn’t have a kitchen aid mixer. I mean, how was I supposed to bake cookies?! How does one LIVE without a kitchen aid mixer?! My live was incomplete without one! I couldn’t sleep at night!
So, anyway, one day my parents, big sis, and nephew joined me on a walk around the lake and lunch at a local restaurant. At lunch my mom ordered calamari and when it came my sister, mom, and I dug into the rings but only my dad would eat the squid. I, by far, was the most grossed out by the squid with their little heads and would look at my dad in pure disgust every time he nonchalantly popped one in his mouth. My mom, of course, was curious as to what my price would be - as in just how much would it take to get me to eat one of those things. The perfect situation for a bet. At first it was hypothetical with my mom simply asking, “If you were to get a free yellow kitchen aid mixer would you eat the calamari?” Of course, I replied saying there was no way for me to know without the offer actually being on the table and, well, her curiosity got the better of her and a concrete offer was made. It did take me a good forty-five minutes to grow a pair and eat the damn squid and we had to tell the waitress multiple times do NOT take the plate away. I really have my sister to thank for finally saying to me, “Just eat it for the love of all things holy! It’s a free kitchen aid mixer! I can’t even look at you right now. You disgust me.” It was just the push I needed. A week later my parents showed up at my apartment with a kitchen aid mixer wrapped in squid recipes.
I’m not the only she makes bets with; in fact I’m pretty sure that it is her favorite pastime. For example, when I was away at college and my younger brother was still at home for some unknown reason they got into a discussion about how many times I had braces growing up: little bro said twice and my mom said, “Only once, are you kidding me?! I think I would remember shelling out that kind of dough!” Of course, a bet had to be made as to who was right and I was promptly called and asked the question. No “How are you?” “How’s college treating you?” Just, “How many times did you have braces?” Not even a goodbye. Anyway, the answer was twice. Yes, I had terrible terrible teeth. So my brother got new bedding while my mom went to the orthodontist and demanded that after all the money they’ve received from our family there should at least be a chair in the lobby dedicated to our family.
Two years ago I went on vacation with her to the Oregon coast and did not buy one thing for myself. Every game of cribbage or cards played was with the caveat that loser pays for breakfast or loser pays for coffee etc. etc. Like I said I received a LOT of free meals.
But by far the best bet I made was, alas, my last because my dad finally told her she had to stop because he was tired of buying all this free stuff for me…that and I almost had her hooked for a free computer twenty minutes later and he just couldn’t let that happen.
It occurred right after I moved into my Green Lake apartment and was whining constantly about how I didn’t have a kitchen aid mixer. I mean, how was I supposed to bake cookies?! How does one LIVE without a kitchen aid mixer?! My live was incomplete without one! I couldn’t sleep at night!
So, anyway, one day my parents, big sis, and nephew joined me on a walk around the lake and lunch at a local restaurant. At lunch my mom ordered calamari and when it came my sister, mom, and I dug into the rings but only my dad would eat the squid. I, by far, was the most grossed out by the squid with their little heads and would look at my dad in pure disgust every time he nonchalantly popped one in his mouth. My mom, of course, was curious as to what my price would be - as in just how much would it take to get me to eat one of those things. The perfect situation for a bet. At first it was hypothetical with my mom simply asking, “If you were to get a free yellow kitchen aid mixer would you eat the calamari?” Of course, I replied saying there was no way for me to know without the offer actually being on the table and, well, her curiosity got the better of her and a concrete offer was made. It did take me a good forty-five minutes to grow a pair and eat the damn squid and we had to tell the waitress multiple times do NOT take the plate away. I really have my sister to thank for finally saying to me, “Just eat it for the love of all things holy! It’s a free kitchen aid mixer! I can’t even look at you right now. You disgust me.” It was just the push I needed. A week later my parents showed up at my apartment with a kitchen aid mixer wrapped in squid recipes.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Smell it!
Yesterday I was surprised at work by Chuckles accompanied by my big sis and my two nephews for lunch! Totally made my day. We went to a nearby brewery where we proceeded to laugh it up at Matthew’s silly faces and grunts. Seriously, those kids never ever cry – it’s so unfair because that can only mean that one day when I have kids they will be the spawn of Beelzebub, but that’s another story for another day.
Jared, who’s four, was eating extremely slowly, even slower than me, which, I assure you, is no small feat. Considering I did have to get back to work I tried to make it into a game with him in an attempt to speed it up. I informed him that I was totally going to finish eating before him to which he scoffed, “Yeah, right, you have like waaaayyy more food on your plate.” Since he didn’t fall for that one…I tried another tactic:
Me: “My bites are sooooo much bigger than yours.”
Jared: “Yeah? Well, I can take super tiny bites. So there!”
He did not fall for any of my tricks what he did fall for though was his mom saying he wouldn’t get any Oreos if he didn’t hurry up and eat his sandwich. Note to self: Bribery always works.
On the way home I sat between the two car seats thereby giving me the perfect position to have a serious conversation with Jared. He had his mitten with him and demanded that I smell the inside of it:
Jared: “Smell it!”
Me: “No, YOU smell it!”
Jared: “No, YOU!”
Me: “YOU!” (I often revert to childish behavior when I am around Jared, we could go on forever like this.)
To my surprise Jared gave in quickly and sniffed the inside of his mitten and announced to the whole car, “It smells GREAT!”
Me: “I have a really hard time believing that…”
Jared: “It does. Smell it. NOW. Smell it. Do it.”
Well, I can’t stand up to that kind of peer pressure so I had to smell it. After I gave it a quick sniff Jared quite eagerly inquired, “Do you like it?” Strange kid I know, but I have to admit it wasn’t so bad.
Jared, who’s four, was eating extremely slowly, even slower than me, which, I assure you, is no small feat. Considering I did have to get back to work I tried to make it into a game with him in an attempt to speed it up. I informed him that I was totally going to finish eating before him to which he scoffed, “Yeah, right, you have like waaaayyy more food on your plate.” Since he didn’t fall for that one…I tried another tactic:
Me: “My bites are sooooo much bigger than yours.”
Jared: “Yeah? Well, I can take super tiny bites. So there!”
He did not fall for any of my tricks what he did fall for though was his mom saying he wouldn’t get any Oreos if he didn’t hurry up and eat his sandwich. Note to self: Bribery always works.
On the way home I sat between the two car seats thereby giving me the perfect position to have a serious conversation with Jared. He had his mitten with him and demanded that I smell the inside of it:
Jared: “Smell it!”
Me: “No, YOU smell it!”
Jared: “No, YOU!”
Me: “YOU!” (I often revert to childish behavior when I am around Jared, we could go on forever like this.)
To my surprise Jared gave in quickly and sniffed the inside of his mitten and announced to the whole car, “It smells GREAT!”
Me: “I have a really hard time believing that…”
Jared: “It does. Smell it. NOW. Smell it. Do it.”
Well, I can’t stand up to that kind of peer pressure so I had to smell it. After I gave it a quick sniff Jared quite eagerly inquired, “Do you like it?” Strange kid I know, but I have to admit it wasn’t so bad.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Thanksgiving
I’m a bit late with my Thanksgiving post, but I was really busy yesterday. Really I was just busy stressing out as opposed to actually crossing anything off my to do list, but what’s new?! Haha, I’m a stressball. Yay! Fun times.
Anyway, I had a rather uneventful Thanksgiving, which was quite relaxing. It was just the usual: sitting around watching the Seahawks lose, drinking wine, laughing at my nephews, eating a lot, and regretting not wearing a more forgiving dress.
It was a nice change from the previous Thanksgiving, which was fun – don’t get me wrong! There was just a slight problem with the dessert. A week prior to Thanksgiving my mom had to have surgery on her back, surgery that meant that for the next couple months or so she wasn’t allowed to move her neck. Meaning my dad, big sis, and I were in charge of the Thanksgiving feast. My dad was in charge of the turkey and stuffing and my sister and I did the sides and we each made a dessert.
Oh, and did I mention my parents had just finished remodeling their kitchen? With a new fancy oven? Well, they did. (Ultimately, this will be a lame story because it takes too long to explain the back story, but I won’t let that stop me!)
Soooo, my sis made a chocolate pie and I made an apple crostata that according to the recipe HAD to be served right out of the oven. So my plan was to put it in the oven after dinner and it being ready would surely coincide with everybody being ready to eat dessert. Of course, my plans did not incorporate a three year old boy who wanted his chocolate pie RIGHT NOW DAMNIT! As a result, my sister and I would alternate looking into the oven to see if the crostata was ready.
Unfortunately, the fancy new oven had this weird touch screen thing and the oven light was stubborn and you had to press really hard on it AND it was right next to the oven cleaner button. So, someone, I won’t name names, but I will tell you that her initials are E.M. and she is quite fond of bossing me around and has an unnatural fear of E.T., pressed the oven cleaner button. This caused the door to self lock and the temperature of the oven to skyrocket. We did manage to get the crostata out of the oven before it burnt, but, unfortunately, it tasted a lot like what I imagine chemicals taste like. Yummy.
This year I just brought the salad (much easier) and I made sure not to tell anyone that the impatient four year old boy ate half of a walnut and then spit it out in the salad proclaiming it “yucky” until after everybody had eaten their share.
Anyway, I had a rather uneventful Thanksgiving, which was quite relaxing. It was just the usual: sitting around watching the Seahawks lose, drinking wine, laughing at my nephews, eating a lot, and regretting not wearing a more forgiving dress.
It was a nice change from the previous Thanksgiving, which was fun – don’t get me wrong! There was just a slight problem with the dessert. A week prior to Thanksgiving my mom had to have surgery on her back, surgery that meant that for the next couple months or so she wasn’t allowed to move her neck. Meaning my dad, big sis, and I were in charge of the Thanksgiving feast. My dad was in charge of the turkey and stuffing and my sister and I did the sides and we each made a dessert.
Oh, and did I mention my parents had just finished remodeling their kitchen? With a new fancy oven? Well, they did. (Ultimately, this will be a lame story because it takes too long to explain the back story, but I won’t let that stop me!)
Soooo, my sis made a chocolate pie and I made an apple crostata that according to the recipe HAD to be served right out of the oven. So my plan was to put it in the oven after dinner and it being ready would surely coincide with everybody being ready to eat dessert. Of course, my plans did not incorporate a three year old boy who wanted his chocolate pie RIGHT NOW DAMNIT! As a result, my sister and I would alternate looking into the oven to see if the crostata was ready.
Unfortunately, the fancy new oven had this weird touch screen thing and the oven light was stubborn and you had to press really hard on it AND it was right next to the oven cleaner button. So, someone, I won’t name names, but I will tell you that her initials are E.M. and she is quite fond of bossing me around and has an unnatural fear of E.T., pressed the oven cleaner button. This caused the door to self lock and the temperature of the oven to skyrocket. We did manage to get the crostata out of the oven before it burnt, but, unfortunately, it tasted a lot like what I imagine chemicals taste like. Yummy.
This year I just brought the salad (much easier) and I made sure not to tell anyone that the impatient four year old boy ate half of a walnut and then spit it out in the salad proclaiming it “yucky” until after everybody had eaten their share.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
What a relief!
Thank God that ended well! Am I right or am I right? I have to say that is the first time I voted for a winner. YAY ME! As I shared with you yesterday, and I know you were all sorts of jealous, I hung with the fam last night and we watched the results together.
When I got there after a hellish commute my big sis with her two little boys was already there and those boys were well on their way to creating havoc. That’s not completely true. But what is true is that when my mom asked Jared what kind of pizza he wanted he forcefully replied, “COOKIE!” Unfortunately, we were never able to convince him that there was no such thing as a “cookie pizza” regardless of how unbelievably cool that would be, so, needless to say, he was quite disappointed when the pizza came and there were no cookies on it as toppings. Travesty!
After we had chowed down on plenty of cheesy pizza and had plenty of delicious wine we started our game of election night bingo. It had typical sayings on it: voter turnout, concession speech, absentee ballots. Unfortunately, we were watching some of the Daily Show because the graphics on NBC scared us and Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert were talking about…well, not voter turnout. At one point (don’t ask me why) the phrase “Giant Shit Burger” was uttered. This caused my dad to scour his card only to find that it was nowhere to be found. We were not happy with that blatant oversight.
Also, I don’t think my mom really put a lot of thought into how last night would play out in terms of playing a game with my dad, my sister, and I. You see the three of us are extremely competitive and every time somebody would say a phrase that was somewhat close to one on our cards she would want to mark it off and all three of us would yell at her, “It’s not exact! It has to be the exact phrase.” I think at one point or possibly multiple times (I can’t really remember…blame it on the wine) I accused my mom of cheating. She did win after all. I would have more vehemently protested, but she was nice and shared the prize: a box of mint frangos. Nummy.
Later after we decided we’d stayed too late and couldn’t wait any longer for Obama’s speech my sis went to wake the boys and we gathered our stuff together. When she got downstairs she asked Jared which parent he wanted to go home with and he just kept staring at me causing us all to think he was on the brink of saying Auntie Megan! Which would have been the wrong answer…despite that we considered it for a second. Simply because it would have been funny for me to show up at home: Look, honey! I won election night bingo and the prize was a four year old boy. I wonder if he does any tricks.
When I got there after a hellish commute my big sis with her two little boys was already there and those boys were well on their way to creating havoc. That’s not completely true. But what is true is that when my mom asked Jared what kind of pizza he wanted he forcefully replied, “COOKIE!” Unfortunately, we were never able to convince him that there was no such thing as a “cookie pizza” regardless of how unbelievably cool that would be, so, needless to say, he was quite disappointed when the pizza came and there were no cookies on it as toppings. Travesty!
After we had chowed down on plenty of cheesy pizza and had plenty of delicious wine we started our game of election night bingo. It had typical sayings on it: voter turnout, concession speech, absentee ballots. Unfortunately, we were watching some of the Daily Show because the graphics on NBC scared us and Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert were talking about…well, not voter turnout. At one point (don’t ask me why) the phrase “Giant Shit Burger” was uttered. This caused my dad to scour his card only to find that it was nowhere to be found. We were not happy with that blatant oversight.
Also, I don’t think my mom really put a lot of thought into how last night would play out in terms of playing a game with my dad, my sister, and I. You see the three of us are extremely competitive and every time somebody would say a phrase that was somewhat close to one on our cards she would want to mark it off and all three of us would yell at her, “It’s not exact! It has to be the exact phrase.” I think at one point or possibly multiple times (I can’t really remember…blame it on the wine) I accused my mom of cheating. She did win after all. I would have more vehemently protested, but she was nice and shared the prize: a box of mint frangos. Nummy.
Later after we decided we’d stayed too late and couldn’t wait any longer for Obama’s speech my sis went to wake the boys and we gathered our stuff together. When she got downstairs she asked Jared which parent he wanted to go home with and he just kept staring at me causing us all to think he was on the brink of saying Auntie Megan! Which would have been the wrong answer…despite that we considered it for a second. Simply because it would have been funny for me to show up at home: Look, honey! I won election night bingo and the prize was a four year old boy. I wonder if he does any tricks.
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