Quotes from the Backseat

If you’ve never driven around with a couple of boys in the backseat and just listened to the things they say, you are missing out on some funny stuff!

“Eww, Mom!  Trip ate some of my hair!”  (Giggling and a quick denial followed.)

“Here!  Eat my boogers!”  (One boy to the other.  I’m not sure which.  There are things you don’t really want to remember as a mother.)

“Did you poop in your pants?”  (There wasn’t even a fart that preceded the question.  This was just a procession of sillier and sillier questions.)

“Mom, I get a car in a couple of years and then I’ll be able to drive you around.”  (No he doesn’t!  He’s 9 years old!)

“I have thirty degree butt burns!”  (Brothers shouldn’t be able to access each others seat warmers.  Also, thirty degree burns?  I was aware of third degree burns…)

“Mom, he’s going to push the ejector button and throw me out of the car!”  (I wasn’t aware my car had ejector buttons, but maybe the boys did some after market upgrades on my car while I was sleeping one night.)


Cherry Pie Filling

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That’s an extreme close up of my little brother, Jacob.  You’re welcome.  I’ve said for years that I was lucky he wasn’t born a girl.  He would have been much more popular than I was.  He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a magnetic personality.  And that damned tan.  Couldn’t the pigment have been shared a little??  He got every single melanocyte there was to be shared.  It’s not fair!!!  (I’m fine with it now.)

His hair turned brown and still the girls flocked to him.  His hair has since started to turn gray and fall out and they still flock to him.  I am finally ok with that though because I have Ed the Awesome and I am the winner now!

Jacob is also my sibling closest in age to me.  We had many funny stories growing up and this is one of my favorites!  🙂


Jacob was 15 years old and a sophomore in high school.  He hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, so he had to compete for potential dates with lots of handsome boys who had already hit their growth spurts.  Tiny, little, skinny Jacob had to rely on his personality for dates.  Somewhere in the middle of his sophomore year, he landed a date with a fairly popular girl from high school.

I didn’t like her.  I didn’t have a reason for not liking her other than the stories I had heard about her and she sounded vapid.  I’m sure plenty of people thought the same of me at the same time.

The dinner conversations for a couple of weeks consisted of Mom asking Jacob for details about his romance and he hadn’t yet figured out how to evade such an interrogation.

The last conversation we had about this girl involved the two of them eating lunch together.  Jacob had gotten the school cafeteria version of nachos in which a bag of chips is dumped unceremoniously onto a styrofoam plate and liquid cheese product is poured on top of it.  Definitely not haute cuisine or even remotely healthy, but still a little less disgusting than the cherry pie filling that Jacob’s girlfriend had for lunch.

Yes, she had a can of cherry pie filling and ate it out of the can with a spoon.

She finished her “lunch” before Jacob did and since there was no protein in that can, she was still hungry.  She asked Jacob for some of his nachos.  Jacob, always good with words, told her, “I think you’ve had enough to eat for one day.”

Their relationship ended that day.  Mom and I had a great time telling him all of the alternative things he could have said.

I Am The Butt Of All Their Jokes, Part Deux

The boys were ecstatic after a win for their little league baseball team a couple of weeks ago.  It was after 7:00 in the evening.  We headed to Target because we needed a few things before we called it an evening.  We drove up the access road of the highway to get to Target with the windows open when a certain little boy farted in the Tahoe and it stunk so bad that the rest of us were gagging.

It was that moment that set the tone for the rest of the evening.

We got to Target, parked, went inside, and got a shopping cart.  Trip drove the cart for the first part of the excursion.  We had made our first turn through the store and had made it to the cosmetics aisle when I felt a child sized foot kick my butt.

(I’ve got to preface the rest of this story with this.  We play hard.  We love fiercely.  We rarely hurt each others feelings.)

I whipped around and exclaimed, “Logan!”

He grinned and pointed at Ed.

“Daddy did it,” he said with a grin.

“Boy!  I know what a little boy foot feels like on my butt!  Quit that!”  I told him.  He grinned like he hadn’t heard me.

We continued around the store gathering our needed supplies whilst jumping out of each others way and continuing our banter.  Logan and Ed were on one side.  Trip was on my side, telling the other two to leave me alone and blocking impending blows.  There were not any other actual blows that landed, but there was  a lot of jumping out of the way and feigned blows throughout the trip around the store.

Now, I’m fine with all of the banter and rough housing while we’re shopping, but when I’m at the check out line, I am done with all of the rough housing.  Not finished.  Done.  My mother will probably spin in her chair when she reads this, but there’s a time to use finished and a time to use done.  For this instance, I was DONE!

So we all loaded the items we were buying on the check out belt and I told Logan and Ed several times to behave themselves.  They pretended like they were going to behave themselves.  I should have known it was a ruse.

It was finally our turn with the cashier.  She started checking our items and I took my place beside the register so I could watch the monitor as the items were checked.  You never know when an item will ring up with the wrong price and this is true at any store.  You might have to wait for 20 minutes while a someone else goes to check the advertised price and comes back to verify the price you’ve quoted the cashier, but do you really want to pay the wrong price?  I don’t.

It was during this careful watching of the register that I felt another boy-sized foot kick my butt.

I lost my cool.  I whipped around and grabbed Logan by the face.  I threatened life and limb and video game privileges and movement outside of his bedroom for the rest of his life.

He got a little worried and refused to look me in the eye.  That’s his go to move when he’s in trouble- refusing to look his accuser in the eye when he’s in trouble.

And then it happened.

Tap, tap, tap.

Ed was tapping me on the shoulder.

“She wants you to pay,” he said.  He meant the cashier.

I rolled my eyes at him and returned to the register.  I set  my purse on the counter and swiped my credit card across the credit machine.  When the signature line popped up, I heard my little boy, Logan, say to me, “Mommy, you know your parole officer said you couldn’t do that anymore.”

What?  What did he just say?  Did my baby really just say that to me???  In public, no less???

(I need to preface the rest of this story with the fact that I have no parole officer.  I have never been to prison.  I have never been to jail.  I have never been arrested or spent a single night in jail.  I did recently learn though that when you are arrested, you are given an orange jumpsuit to wear and your underwear and bra are taken from you.  That means that if you need to use the restroom, you have to strip down to nothingness and go in front of an audience.  Totally not my cup of tea, thank you very much!)

Before Logan, the demon child, even had that completely out of his mouth, his father started speaking.  “Honey, you know the CPS officer said you couldn’t do that in public anymore.”

Really?  Really???  It’s a conspiracy!!!  They’re all evil!  At least, two of them are.  Demons!!

I’m sure the look on my face was one of shock.  The cashier was giggling.  I’m pretty sure I was blushing from head to toe.  There was nothing for me to do but laugh.  Sometimes, there’s nothing to do but admit defeat.

They may have won this round, but I’m good for many more rounds.

It’s game on, boys!!

What Girlfriends Are For

Every great once in a while, the boys have a conversation so outlandish with Ed that it simply must be preserved for posterity on the internet.  This is one such story. 🙂

Ed had picked the boys up from their last day of school.  On the drive back to the office, they were looking at their little yearbooks and talking about all of their old girlfriends.  Trip’s little girlfriend moved away this year, so Ed asked Trip if he missed her.

Trip said, “Not really.  It’s good to be a bachelor.”

Ed asked,”You don’t miss having a girlfriend?”

Trip replied, “No, I got bossed around a lot.”

Logan then piped up with, “You dummy!  That’s the point of having a girlfriend!”

Ed blames me for the skewed views on relationships.  I’m pretty sure it’s just because he’s evil.

I Am the Butt of Every Joke

I’ve tried all manner of diets over the years and now, I’m trying the paleo diet.  It’s working for me and I feel good.  I haven’t made a big deal out of it with Ed or the boys, but it is obvious when I don’t eat some of the same things they eat.  I have told the men in my house about the finer details of my diet and they have run with it!

A couple of weeks ago, we were eating a big weekend breakfast at one of our favorite restaurants and I ordered coffee.  Here’s the thing though:  I don’t like cream in my coffee.  I like milk.  Cream is too thick for me.  So naturally, I asked for milk instead of cream.  My milk versus cream issue has absolutely nothing to do with my current diet, but my guys had to add in a few details for my request.

Ed started, “The milk should be whole milk from a cow that has only eaten organically grown grass.  It should also be a white cow with three large black spots.”

“The cow should be one born only in the month of October and not more than four years old,” said Logan.

Trip couldn’t be left out.  “And the cow should only have lived in Texas or in an adjoining state.”

I just smiled and asked if they could meet all of those requirements.  The server laughed and said, “Of course!”

Last weekend, we ate at the same restaurant.  I ordered an omelet and asked for a couple of things to be left out.  My requests were not unreasonable and the server said it would be easy to accommodate my requests.

Trip piped up first.  “The chicken which laid the eggs should be a white chicken.”

“It should have black spots, but the spots should only be on the chicken’s face,” supplied Ed.

Logan finished, “The chicken needs to have been born in the summer time of the last year.”

Our server was the same one who had heard their routine about the cow a couple of weeks prior and she was giggling at the onset of it.

My omelet was delicious!

My Boys. They’re Demons.

Last week we had tickets to go to the Rangers and Red Sox game.  It’s one of the games I absolutely insist upon every year.  Ed forgot when we had baseball tickets, so he ended up doing an all-day continuing education class less than a mile from the Ballpark at Arlington.  Because of that, I ended up with a long drive ahead of me with a couple of little munchkins in the backseat after working all day.

After driving for a full fifteen minutes, I was getting a little tired so I decided that I’d get the boys talking.  What better time and way to have a sweet evening with my little cherubs?  The sky was a beautiful shade of blue and the clouds looked like cotton candy in the sky.  To get a sweet conversation started, I asked the boys to tell me what the clouds looked like to them, if they saw any shapes in the sky.

Boy #2 started with his description first.  “I see an elephant.”

Aww!!  My sweet boy!!  He saw an elephant in the clouds!

He wasn’t finished.

“And the elephant has his trunk pointed at a hawk’s butt and the hawk is farting so the elephant can sniff up the fart!”

They both erupted in laughter.  My sweet parenting moment was ruined!

I groaned and they took my groan as an invitation to continue.

“There’s an alien’s head in the sky!”

“There’s a letter T and a bear.  It stands for teddy bear!”

“There’s a dinosaur on your side, Mommy.  It’s just opening it’s mouth.  No, he’s eating the crown of a king!”

“Three horses being shot at the same time by a number 3!”

“I see a Megalodon eating a queen conch!”

What’s a mother of boys to do?  I laughed with them.  It’s not like I was shocked by their imaginations.

Later during the drive, I asked them what they wanted to eat at the game.  Boy #1 spoke up first,  “I’m going to eat garlic flies and a hot cat and a hambooger!”

“That’s a lot of food, boy!” I said.

“Well Mom, I’m a hungry boy!” he replied.  Then he shrieked in disgust, “Eww, Mom!  He ate some of my hair!”

I should’ve expected this.  It’s not like I’ve never met my boys before.

I’m Published!!!

OMG!!!!!  I’m a published author now!!  I’ve been writing short stories now for a while and I went through a rigorous editing process.   

(Which means that I had my mom and my mother in law read them and then I had my father in law read them because he would tell me if he thought they were crap or not.)

(He said it wasn’t crap!)

So, I got it copyrighted.  I waited on pins and needles waiting for the copyright to come in.  It took FOREVER!!!

(Two and a half months.)

And then I published it on kindle!

It’s called The Consummate Family Betrayal and other stories! Here’s the href=”http://www.amazon.com/Consummate-Family-Betrayal-stories-ebook/dp/B008AKTJJU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1341763699&sr=8-1&keywords=amanda+richardson” title=”link”>