Category Archives: LOL Moments

Mom! You just RUINED my mind!

Chick #3 has a way with words. I RUINED her mind. I ruined her mind. Sheesh. Settle down already. Such Drama!

The chick has been obsessed with another Netflix series – Bones. I’ll admit the show is fairly decent and when I am watching an episode with her, I pretty much enjoy it. It’s just not a series I feel I can sit and veg to. It’s interesting and all but not like Breaking Bad. Nope. Not anywhere close to it at all.  And since Chick #3 is so willing to volunteer episode details, (even when not asked) I really don’t have to watch it. Now do I?

Today’s episode report was pretty interesting because as Liv says, “It was about role playing. You do know what that is? Right, mom?” As if I know what that is – wow! So I said, “Role playing? You mean where the girl pretends to be someone like – Alice in Wonderland and the guy is the Mad Hatter?” Now mind you, this wasn’t me being a smart ass. I was genuinely being serious because I really wasn’t exactly sure what SHE meant by role playing. She immediately retorted, “EWWWW! MOM! You just RUINED my mind!”  To which, I now can’t stop giggling.

Ok Liv, so tell me what the episode was about then because I’m clearly confused about what your definition of role playing is. She then begins to tell me this story about how the men were acting like horses and the women would ride them and how one women killed her horse. This was on Bones?! Women jockeys and men ponies?! How was what I said any more mind ruining than this episode? In fact, I think men ponies might be a little higher up on the mind scarring side. Good grief, kid!

That’s it! No more Bones for you!

However, if you’re interested in learning more about men ponies, women jockeys, and S&M -> Bones S3 Death in the Saddle

~ SE

Takes a Secure Woman

Today’s message: Take time to laugh … at yourself.

Laughing is good. No. It’s GREAT! Laughter heals. Laughter builds relationships. Laughter tears down walls. Laughter unites. And often, it’s so easy to laugh at or with other people but yet so difficult to laugh at ourselves. Why is that? Does it make us appear weak? Are we that insecure that we can’t laugh at our own foibles? Does it makes us vulnerable? I never quite understood that. Laugh at your best bud crashing into the wall or face planting the floor but get fire breathing pissed off if it were to happen to you. Just doesn’t make sense to me and honestly, I get a real kick out of my own ridiculousness. Therefore, laughing at myself is a daily must.

Here’s a special treat for you. I actually sent this via text to Chick #1 because I felt compelled to share my hilarious misfortune with her so that she might also partake in the laughter.

Sometime in November 2013, I was digging around in the itty bitty, slam packed with boxes attic space for the Autumn decorations. Of course, nothing was within reach. So that meant I had to cautiously navigate through the clutter, broken floor planks, and comb through the stock piled boxes for the few I actually needed.  The attic isn’t a full sized walking attic, either. It’s basically a crawl space. I mean, you can hump over like a hunchback and walk down the center line but anything off to the sides, and you really should be on your knees so that you don’t cause some blunt force trauma to the ol’ noggin’ by bashing it up against a pretty stout cross beam. No, I didn’t knock myself silly. I did something even funnier. You see, hanging from a beam was some type of dangling cord that kept brushing on my neck….and….



And there you have it. It takes a secure women to admit that she had the pee scared right out of her. It takes an even more secure woman to laugh at her own absurdity… and now you can laugh, too!

~ SE

Pun Intended

It’s only TUESDAY! It’s ONLY Tuesday! UGGGHHH!

It’s the last week before Christmas break and it’s only TUESDAY! Dear sweet baby Jesus, please let’s just get through the rest of this craptastic and insane week without getting alcohol poisoning. <as I eagerly eye my last bottle of red wine>

Today seriously felt like a sick and twisted school version of a Groundhog’s Day joke. The movie that is. You know the one. Where Bill Murray repeats the same day over…and…over…and…over…again. Well, we’re stuck in a nightmarish school loop otherwise know as the HELL before Christmas! The kids are bonkers. Teachers are snarky. And the few of us who normally laugh at the insanity of school life, have morphed into great green Grinches.  Ba humbug and all that jazz! … and it’s ONLY Tuesday!  <sigh>  I’m so looking forward to 2 full weeks of no lunch and car pick up DUTY! ‘Cause duty is really some stinky dodo!

So, I made it. Survived another day. 3 more to go. And discovered, as I was leaving, a teacher who, like myself, needed some sort of LOL reprieve from the anything but tedium day we had all experienced. And this is what I found her watching…

Now that’s some funny $hit!

Baked Goodies, Oh My!

So here I am. It’s 11 days until Christmas. And I decided against my better judgment to bake goodies for the folks at work.

Holiday Baking

I say this because, as I’ve previously mentioned, baker extraordinaire, I am not. Oh, I can make some mean cookies. Whip up some tasty muffins. And even bake a lovely cake. But those are very basic and when they come from a box, they’re pretty fool proof, too. IE Sheila Proof.  However, today I decided to try some new recipes…from scratch. Oh boy. That’s a recipe for disaster but I thought, what the heck. I’ll try something new…how about 6 somethings new! Hey, just call me risky.

Anyway the 6 new recipes:

~ Saltine Toffee Bark

~ Soft Coconut Macaroons

~ 10 Cup Cookies

~ Swirled White and Milk Chocolate Bark with Crushed Peppermint on Top|/1043580/chocolate-bark-recipes/@center/1008647/christmas-candy-recipes|296273

~ Iced Chocolate Chip Cookie Cake

~ Buckeyes

Several years back, a friend made the Saltine Toffee Bark and I just couldn’t get enough of it. So I figured why not begin here? Good grief! This recipe is pretty simple. Lay the crackers on a cookie sheet, cover them with the brown sugar toffee and then bake. This is where my issues began. Sometimes I just don’t think things through clearly and being that I’m not a savvy candy maker, I clearly was not thinking when I laid out the crackers on a side less cookie sheet. Crackers on a cookie sheet are fine but when the crackers are covered in a sticky brown sugar mixture, the whole mess begins to bubble when it’s in the oven. And yes. That’s where my troubles really began. The bubbling caused the crackers to shift closer to the edges and soon enough, I had not just one nor two but 4 crackers and oozing toffee goo running over the sides and down to the bottom of my once clean oven. Are you kidding me?!! And as I stared, helpless, the glob of cracker goop, ignited!! Now mind you, we’ve had to have our oven repaired twice since July and in my defense, neither was due to anything that I did or did not do while cooking. All I could think of as I whipped open the oven door, revealing a miniature ball of fire, charred crackers, and a syrupy mess, was “Oh $shit! I did it THIS time! There’s no way the landlord is ever going to believe this!” Chick #3 sat in horror as smoke billowed out of the oven and when she saw I had it all under control, she smirked, “I told you to use the pan with the sides.” Thank you very much, Captain Obvious. And in spite of this minor mishap, the Toffee Bark came out perfecto.

Now, Chick #3 had a blast bustin’ my chops all day about my goo gone bad incident. She’s become quite the cook lately and never misses the opportunity to tell me when I’m doing something wrong in the kitchen. “Mom! Don’t lick the spoon. Mom! Don’t eat the dough. There’s RAW EGGS in it! Mom! Follow the directions! Mom! Mom! MOM!!” Ugh!! So when we went to ice the last dessert dish, the chocolate chip cookie cake, I almost fell over in a fit of laughter. Liv insisted on making the cake and wanted to ice it with a homemade butter cream icing. Cake done. Cake cooling on racks. Now for the icing. Again, I’ve never made homemade icing. So I’m completely clueless about the texture and consistency. Like the amateur I am, I know when I’m in over my head. So I bowed out and let Liv make the icing. Next thing I know, she’s got the icing in a bag, ready to be piped onto the cake. She squeezed the bag and the icing globed out like a worm.  Plop! Big Fat White Worms! The icing was too thick and it took everything in me not to laugh at her. We could barely spread it and what we could spread, only covered part of the cake. She was mad but as we kept trying to push the stiff icing around the cake, she laughed at the mess and then wondered how we were going to fix it. Now, this is the part I’m good at…fixing things. ANYTHING. If it’s broke, I can MacGyver it! That thick, lumpy icing didn’t stand a chance. I grabbed up the last of the chocolate morsels, popped them in the microwave, and then drizzled it over the icing. Lastly, we sprinkled the rest of the crushed up peppermint on top and Viola! What was once a lumpy, blobby mess, was now a beautiful dessert dish.

It took us all day to bake our goodies and even though we had a couple experimental oopsies, we had a blast hanging out with each other. And that’s what cooking is all about. Hanging out. Having fun. Making memories.

~ SE


Just think how amazing it would be if everyone were all on the same mental page. Seriously. My bestie co-worker friend, Ms. B and I finish each other’s sentences, often break out in song in the middle of conversations, and somehow always manage to sync random sentences to song titles and phrases. We’re weird. We know it. We accept it. We have fun! It’s definitely the best part of my day…my work day, that is. She and I are complete opposites. She’s black. I’m white. She’s disorganized. I’m almost neurotically organized. She’s LOUD. I’m only loud when I need to be. She’s messy. I’m always picking up after her. She’s ADHD. I’m focused. She flies by the seat of her pants. I like to have a plan. But even with all the differences, we have the same love for laughter and our work day is filled with non-stop laughs and giggles. We’re like Yin and Yang. Mashed potatoes and gravy. Peanut butter and jelly. Mutt and Jeff. Bonnie and Clyde… and any other crazy, balanced, and complimenting pair you can think of.

Students come in, make a disaster of the media center and she hisses at them in her Sméagol voice, telling them she’s about to “manifest”. I do my best not to bust a gut as I tidy the mess. Likewise, she lets lose a hearty belly laugh when I release the wit monster. We’re good for each other. We bring out the best in each other. And when one of us is a little off, the other provides a little comedic relief. She’s like my family and no one gets us like family.

It’s been a tough week. IE: Book returns from 22 classrooms, re shelving probably close to 1000 books , Christmas store, 3 days of special teacher lunches, absentees, demanding teachers, and on and on…and honestly, if it weren’t for my opposite gal pal sista from another mista, I’d need a prescription for some Z bars…or a bottomless wine cellar. I have neither and really, all I need is the shenanigans we create between the two of us. Thanks Ms. B for keeping me sane even if our laughter always makes us appear insane to the rest of the humorless lot.

From shenanigans to the Twilight Zone -> home.

Chick #3: Interrupted my thinking by loudly singing “STOP!” Followed by, “It’s hammer time!”

I cut my eyes over to her, waiting for the next random outburst. “STOP!”  To which I concluded, “In the name of love!”  Chick #3 giggled and sang back, “STOP! Collaborate and listen!’ Chick #2, not wanting to be bested, “Stop! Don’t touch me there. That’s my no no square.”

I looked up at her and in all dry, seriousness asked, “Square? Shouldn’t that be … triangle?!”

She left the room.


Fowl or Foul?

Thought for the day –

Mama Hen says, “He who rides behind chicken truck with window down – smells Foul!!”

Oh the joys of living in the country!

You said FLUSH!

I seriously just need to have a constant recorder recording our daily conversations because even when I share the zaniness, I doubt people really believe this $hit is real! For that matter, I’m also struck dumb by some of the commentary…especially that of Chick #3, the Livy Bug. This kid WILL say ANYTHING and I do mean – ANYTHING!

We’ve just finished bunch. Nothing fantastic – just eggs, pancakes, and a Hot Stuff mug full of my favorite Joe. Mmmmm!

I sat blissfully sipping my coffee as the two chicks prepared their pancakes. Of course this means passing items instead of asking me. Suddenly I hear, “I’m part NINJAAA” as Chick #2 managed to skillfully save the centerpiece from the falling butter knife…

Normal conversations in our house are on a constant Shuffle mode. It’s like listening to a severely attention deficit child who randomly talks about whatever pops into his/her head. We’re talking about a test grade and POP! -now we’re talking about psychedelic mushroom trips and how bad drugs are for you. Go figure.

So after going from Ninjas to egg whites that taste like paper to Daz Games to Sims to Goat Simulators… we finally ended up at doing laundry – to which Chick #3 asks, “is the pee towel with all the other towels?” (We had a toilet malfunction and had to use a towel to help sop up excess water)

Hen: Why, yes it’s with the other towels.

Chick #3: Good and I blame my feces for that. (You read that right)

Hen: What? <shakes head> I have no words for you. <Turns to leave the room still shaking head>

Chick #3: Well, you always said that if you felt like you still need to go <pause> FLUSH!

I really have no words for her…


Don’t Drink and Dive

Reposted from The W(H)INE Monologue

no swmingCirca 1998
Palm Bay, Fl
A lesson learned the hard way – Don’t drink and dive. And if you do, get close enough to the pool so you clear the edge.
Nice visual, right? Let me tell ya about it.
I, by no means have ever claimed to walk with grace, fall with grace, or simply drink with grace. To clarify – I do drink with Grace but not gracefully. Basically, I’m a disaster waiting to happen and when you add a little liquor to that, it’s only a matter of time before the inevitable occurs and I make a total ass out of myself.
Hence – don’t drink and dive.
You see, a bunch of us were hanging out by the pool, hot tub, garage game room and just having a grand old time. I figured I’d stay put in one place so as not to make a spectacle of myself. So for the longest time, I stayed in the garage shooting pool – where it was safe and DRY. No way was I about to eat tile and play slip and slide through the house. Nope. Not me. You see, I accept my limits and walking while drinking is definitely very limited.
As the night went on, the crowd routinely migrated from here to there an back again but not me. I was blissfully content to sit atop a bar stool next to the pool table, bottle in hand. Then it happened. The cooler went dry and pretty much everyone had wandered back to the pool. Damn. That meant I had to forego my skid proof flooring and gingerly make my way through the deathtrap wet, tiled house to the overly crowded pool deck where there were beverages aplenty. I didn’t really like the idea of pulling a Risky Business through the house and I hated the idea of me being a human pinball even more but when the cooler runs dry, you go where there are refreshments. I’m not sure how long it actually took me to traverse through the house and onto the back patio but somehow I made it and without any damage. Whew. Feeling relieved, I grabbed another drink, found a spot to once again perch, and hoped I wouldn’t need to move again any time soon. That was not to be the case; however, because the already rawdy group was being egged on by my house party hostess in the hopes of instigating a game of pool volley ball. Next thing I know, there’s two highly inebriated teams floundering about, looking like breaching whales as they attempt to make contact with the ball. This one does a belly flop. That one gets hit in the face. Another one sucks in a mouthful of water. Oh, now he’s hanging over the side of the pool gagging. That’s just great! I hear our hostess yell, “Don’t you effing puke in the POOL, dumb ass!” I’m about to wet my pants from laughing when she asks me to get an overthrown ball. Still laughing, I manage to get the slippery devil and chuck it back in the pool. “Hey! Come join us. This loser’s about to hurl” she calls to me as she instructs the water sucking guy to get out of the pool. My belly is about to bust from laughing at the scene before me and I know I shouldn’t, but I stagger over to the pool anyway. Big mistake. You see, alcohol plays tricks…evil tricks…on your depth perception. You guessed it. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear and when you’re drinking, they are farther way than they appear. In my mind, I was on the edge. In reality, I was 1 foot back from where I should have been. Know what happens when you’re too far back for a dive? You have no dive curve and hit the bottom… face first.
What did I tell you about grace? I didn’t play tile slip and slide but I did end up with a pretty gnarly pool smashed mug and I’m happy the entire incident wasn’t any worse.

Moral of the Story: Don’t Drink and Dive

~ SE

Camera Shy

I walked into the kitchen and found this and by the time she was done pounding on Alex’s door, I was in tears from laughing so hard! You ask yourself “why”? Simple. Because she can.

~ SE

A Picture is Worth a 1,000 Words

This picture always reminds me of just how goofy we are when we’re all together.  We each bring our own kind of humor to the table and yet we all share the same goofy gene. You know the one. The one that says you don’t care what other people think when you wear that neon pink squid hat. The same gene that also lets you break out in your own busta rhyme dance beat in the middle of the grocery aisle. Our moves might be different but we still get the laughs and nothing says family more than laughter and good times.

~ SE