Monday, March 1, 2010

Um, pardon me father but that cow is no longer mooing...

Sorry I've been slacking in the commenting department lately - I assure you that it's not for lack of interest. Sometime last week I determined that I'd finally had enough of the general disorder and filth around here and decided that it was time once and for all to get my act together and get some housework done. I really busted ass all weekend and the house has actually been restored to some semblance of order again. I mean, let's not get ahead of ourselves, there's still much more to be done, but at least we all have clean underwear in our dressers biatches (oh yeah, we be fancy now). What's more, this morning I didn't have to perform an emergency scramble for socks, which usually requires that I blindly rummage through 10 loads of unfolded laundry piled up precariously in my laundry room, all the while praying to god that I don't cause some sort of laundry avalanche. On more than one occasion the children have had to settle for socks that don't match. Well, their socks match today, baby! Booyah!

I'm about to continue my 1950's housewife shtick and go vacuum something - oh trust me, I'm sure this little phase will run it's course and my household will once again begin to look more like a re-run of Roseanne than Leave it to Beaver. For the time being, however, I will leave you with this...

Last night we were enjoying a typical EW dinner. Okay, maybe not so typical: the hubs was having a steak and I was having a martini (okay you got me again, I was actually eating a meal too - I'm not a complete lush. But I did mention that I'm pretending to live in the 1950's. Aren't steaks and martinis pretty much prerequisites for any 1950's fantasy?) Anyway, Maggs inquired as to what her father was eating...

Dad: Steak

Maggs: What's steak?

Dad: Beef, which is from cows.

Maggs: (Incredulous, even though we've told her this before) Cows?!

Dad: Yeah, cows.

Maggs: You mean the kind that go "moo?"

Dad: Yeah.

Maggs: (Suspiciously, as if she's onto us) Um, then why isn't it mooing anymore?

The conversation continued until Maggs wanted to know specific details about how cows are killed and then made into steak. I kind of shushed the hubs because Maggs still weeps inconsolably about (what she considers) the untimely death of Goldie the goldfish over 2 years ago. I'm pretty sure she'd require therapy if the hubs were to detail the slaying and butchering of her favorite barnyard friend.
























By the way, my son, over-tired from a busy weekend, had already been dismissed from the dinner table at this point for unacceptable behavior - AKA whining, complaining, and generally being unpleasant. I guess the Beav didn't get the memo requesting that he behave like a Stepford child until further notice. Let's hope that while he's at school today a space pod replaces my son's current incarnation with a more 1950's sitcom-friendly version...

23 comments:

The Mommyologist said...

I don't think our son has figured out that meat comes from animals yet. I'm just waiting for the day he puts 2 and 2 together. He's gonna be pissed!

Amie said...

Wish I had that excuse for lack of comments and blog writing. Nope, my house still looks like shit and since it ain't really even my house I am having a hard time giving a damn.

MiMi said...

Wait. You dismiss them for poor behavior? My hubs makes them sit there! I hate it! Cuz it ruins my dinner!

Denise said...

a martini! good for you. (and although i hate dinner-time theater, i must say i'm validated knowing that i'm not the only one who has whiney, unpleasant children who are dismissed from the dinner table.)

Erin said...

My kids are just starting to put this together, too (the food on their plates & where it came from). I would eventually like to make the move towards vegetarianism over here (or at least have a few vegetarian meals a week), but haven't the energy for now. We rarely eat red meat. And we do eat a lot of fish and chicken. SO maybe that's a start? I dunno. But if my kids are anything like me, they will cry when they figure out where those chicken nuggets come from....

blueviolet said...

I eat meat like once a month so I guess I'm already pretty well grossed out. I have to psych myself out to touch it when it's raw, because I still gotta cook it for my son.

Now bacon...I do compromise for bacon. Dang, that's good!

Amber Page Writes said...

Oh, I'm so glad I'm not the only one who does the sock scramble. My daycare provider actually thinks Tori's proclivity toward mismatched socks is a "fashion statement."

Yeah, sure, that's the reason her socks never match...whatever you say.

Grateful Twin Mom said...

LOL on the laundry tower. Sometimes I think searching for socks is like playing Jenga. Love sending the kid out for misbehavior at dinner. Whining and general unpleasantness should ruin only his dinner.

Aunt Becky said...

I always have a tower of laundry. Usually smells like pee, too. Want to come over?

Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip said...

OMG. I don't know if I've mentioned my laundry situation but let me start by saying that if you were to come into my house at any point in time you would be 150% likely to find no less than 25 loads of unfolded but clean laundry piled up in our back bedroom. This bedroom, btw, is supposed to be the bedroom of our children, who of course inhabit our bedroom. Which is why our bedroom smells like a gorilla's anus. Anyhoo. My dad came to town unexpectedly this weekend and didn't leave me enough time to unearth the laundry mountain. So I piled it all up in the corner on one end of the room. That my friend is hospitality!! Unfortunately, it all came crashing down on him when he attempted to roll his suitcase into the room. Ooops. Here's my dad, luggage in hand, being engulfed by 8000 crumpled pairs of my underwear and my husband's tiger thongs. (Did I say tiger thongs? That's a story for another day.) Anyway, I guess I won't be getting the hostess of the year award this time around.

Nancy@ifevolutionworks.com said...

GOod luck with the June Cleaver thing! I get like that too sometimes and it feels pretty nice.

Don't feel bad on slacking with the blog love...I've been pretty awful myself!

leigh said...

You are flippin' awesome. We have about 100 pairs of mismatched socks over here too. The whole family has gone limp and no one even bothers to find a match any more.

If you really want to feel 1950's...get yourself a vintage apron to wear while you do housework. It doesn't make it any less painful but you sure will look cute!

Sarah said...

Ugh. I wouldn't want to describe this because I don't want to think about it...none the less - this made me laugh!

Bathwater said...

You know my 16 year old teens actually go to school with two different color socks on purpose, one day all that mismatched preparation will payoff!

Maven said...

You always make me laugh!

But damn - now you're inspiring me to housewifery???

Is something wrong with the time space capacitor?

Bwa ha ha ha ha!!!

I kid because I luvs ya!

Susan Erickson said...

Synchronicity...I have been doing the same thing. Except I bought a dress online from a swedish designer and in it I look like I'm a Hudderite or part of the polygamist colony down the road. NOT fetching... but very suitable for household chores. My husband asked me not to wear it anymore. It's freaking him out.

Lee the Hot Flash Queen said...

I am so impressed with your cleaning. I am getting geared up for that as well. I have a list of things to tackle and I look at that list everyday...and then say...ehhh...tomorrow.

SPEAKING FROM THE CRIB said...

tell her she doesn't want to know

if she knew she'd never eat another steak as long as she lived

grew up on a farm

Amy said...

I love that you're channeling the 1950's house wife. I'm totally going to do that! Poodle skirt and all!

jules said...

Oh I rue the day when Vaughn asks me where hot dogs come from. I said it before and I say it again, you seriously crack me up every time! I love it.

Tracie said...

I'll come over sometime and do your laundry for you. Clean laundry is one of my crazy obsessions.

The girl with the flour in her hair said...

My son won't eat animals. So I lie. No. Turkey is not an animal. It's a bird. So far, so good. I'm probably going to Hell, but at least my kid has some protein.

I'm so happy to know that I'm not the only one that has empty dresser drawers. Really. Why fill them up with clothes that are just going to be pulled right back out again. Right? Right. It's much more sane to keep them in a jumbled heap in the basket and gid through them every time you need to find something.

Menina said...

That made me laugh 'um, why isn't it mooing anymore?' Cute.