VUBOQ and the Straight Guy Discuss the Children

Today's guest author needs no introduction. ShallowGal met VUBOQ through Bossy's Excellent Road Trip and her life has not been the same since. For the better. Definitely for the better. Without further ado, the most honorable VUBOQ.



VUBOQ: Good Morning, Kittens! While ShallowGal and her brood are enjoying sunny Florida and Disney World, I volunteered to write a short little guest post for her.

The Straight Guy: And I decided to help because, dudes, ShallowGal is a totally hot chick! I mean, really, look at this:

SG editor note: I have absolutely no idea why this horrific picture came out so small.

*rowr* I'd totally hit that.

V: Whoa, there Cowboy, remember ShallowGal said we couldn't talk about, y'know, (whispers) S-E-X S-T-U-F-F

TGS: Then what the hell am I supposed to talk about?

V: Well, I thought we could talk about children. Children! Huh! What are the good for? Absolutely nothing! Children! Huh! Sing it with me!

TGS: Have you been smoking?

V: No, but I just ate like 15 mint chocolates. Like, OMG, we've barely started this post and we've already mentioned S-E-X S-T-U-F-F, drugs, and you CURSED. ShallowGal is going to be so angry with you ... Anyway, We're going to talk about children.
As some of you may know, I recently broke up with a guy who (was-totally-not-supportive-after-I-was-viciously-attacked-and-nearly-killed-in-broad-daylight-on-a-busy-street-on-a-rainy-Friday-afternoon) wanted children. I, however, do not want children. One of the Best Things about Being Gay (besides the, y'know, Thing ShallowGal Has Forbidden Us To Mention) is that we are unable to procreate. That makes me SuperHappy! Children are messy and noisy and, well, they smell. It's not that I don't like children. I like other people's children. And I like them most of all when they Go Home. Children of my own? No thank you.
What say you, Straight Guy?

TGS: Straight Guys love children. Srsly. And -gather 'round- I'll let you in on a little secret. I'll tell you why Straight Guys love children: Straight Guys love children because in order to have children you get to do, y'know, that Thing. And Straight Guys love doing that Thing. Srsly. It's practically all we think about. Well, sometimes we think about beer. But, usually, just that Thing. Mmm. That Thing. Don't believe me? Pick any random straight guy on the street or in your office. Right now, there's a 95% chance he's thinking about that Thing. Probably with you (if you're a totally hot chick, like ShallowGal). Maybe a little creepy, but true.
Dudes, find a Woman of a Certain Age, tell her you love children, that you want children, and you are guaranTEED to ... um ... do that Thing with her. Srsly.

V: Um, Straight Guy? Don't you think that's a little misogynistic?

TSG: Misogy-What?

V: Nevermind ... Even though we disagree on children, we do agree on one thing:

TSG: Properly trained, a child can be taught to bring you a beer when you get home from work.

V: Or mix the perfect martini.

TSG: They're like dogs, only with less shedding!

V: Probably slightly more drool though (depending on the breed)! Thanks for letting us guest post, ShallowGal. I hope you'll still speak to me after you read this. Love you! *smooches*

Mostly Wordless Wednesday. On an actual Wednesday

Unfortunately, a recycled picture. Oh well. One out of three ain't bad. (1)
Photo credit: Donna Owens Photography. (2)

1) Although of all the Wordless Wednesday rules I've broken, this is the least offensive.
2) If you're in the DC area, you may still have time to have Donna take your holiday card photo. Call her today and tell her ShallowGal sent you !

Backhanded compliment Friday. Tuesday edition.

Which should push Wordless Wednesday to the following Monday. Except for that part of Indiana where they don't observe Daylight Savings. They get Wordless Wednesday a week from Thursday. (1)

Today's zinger comes courtesy of Lolita Travelsalot. Who prefaced the comment with "You could use this on your backhanded compliment thingee." Which in and of itself is kind of a backhanded compliment.

I totally thought of you today. I haven't changed my clothes in three days.

Fair enough, Lolita. Fair enough.


1) Dude, I don't make the rules. I just follow them.

Just another manic Monday

Alternate title: Taking the Stay at Home out of Stay at Home mom.

Alternate alternate title: Nobody wants to read this crap.

Here's ShallowGal's schedule for today. As VUBOQ would say: I haz all teh fun.

7:45 Noa to school
8:25 Jake to school
9:30 Eli to school
9:30 to 12:30 ShallowGal tackles her to-do list
12:30 Eli home from school
12:45 Noa home from school
1:35 Jake home from school
2:20 Jake and Noa 'well kid' check-ups. (1)
2:45 All 3 kids flu shots.
3:00 Jake and Noa to gymnastics
4:00 Jake from gymnastics
4:25 Noa from gymnastics
5:00 Parent conference with Jake's teacher
5:30 Jake to Hebrew school
7:30 Jake home from Hebrew school

Things on SG's to-do list:

• pack entire family for Disney world trip (2)
  
• find guest bloggers (3)
  
• Pay bills, laundry, meals, etc. All the minutiae I usually protect you guys from having to hear about.
  

How SG will probably really spend her day:

• blogging (4)
• twittering
• watching tivo-d episodes of 17 Kids and Counting
  

Odds are good that with a day this busy, SG will undertake an additional project of monumental unimportance. Something like alphabetizing her hotel toiletry collection. Stay tuned.

1) Their birthdays are in March and September. SG is nothing if not timely.
2) We come back a week from tomorrow. Our trip is basically over already. Bummer.
3) Interested? E-mail me or comment.
4) and right now, we're both thinking it's so not worth it.

ShallowGal thanks heavens there is no blogging ethics panel. Yet.

Hope you haven't finished your Christmas shopping yet (1), because SG has found the perfect gift for everyone on your list.

It's a Bilibo. In yellow.

ShallowGal had written a phenomenal piece about the brilliant minds that brought us ABBA and IKEA kind of dropping the ball on this one, when her fifth grader informed her that Sweden and Switzerland are two entirely different countries. Fine. SG expected more from the country that gave us fondue.

But you can see where SG might be confused since one of the ways you play with this toy is such:


And when one thinks of turtles, naturally this comes to mind:



Now it's entirely possible that ShallowGal is underestimating this toy. If someone would like to send SG $27.99 she will take that money and use it to invent a time machine. Then SG will go back to the exact moment she wrote this post and this time ask for $8000 instead to take a Northern European cruise to Sweden to investigate this toy in it's native habitat. Because if some sucker will finance lunacy, ShallowGal wants to be first to take advantage.

Online reviews praise the Bilibo because it encourages children to be creative. Coming from the mother of a child who wanted to name her baby brother "Johasphat Macaroni Head" and has sixteen imaginary friends all named Bert, imagination may be overrated.

Now if the nice people of Sweden, Switzerland want a fair and balanced review of this toy, please feel free to send me three Bilibos and $8000.(2) For a regular review, you can just send the toy. I guarantee that with my almost four dozen readers a day, I can help beef up your Wikipedia article.

On a totally unrelated note, ShallowGal has invented a new toy herself. It's called a mixing bowlborkborkbork.

Retail price: $8000. Fruit not included.

1) Dude. I've been done for weeks.
2) Actually that works out nicely because you can hide the money in a secret Alps account. Isn't that another Swiss perk?

Mostly Wordless Wednesday: Pumpkin Playground edition

Just when I wonder how I will survive another three year old,
he does something that makes me unbelievably proud.
Like protect 37 senior citizens on a haunted hay ride.


Alzheimer Grandma no longer has any clue as to who Eli is
but she knows she loves him.

In which we learn how far ShallowGal will go for a snickers

When ShallowGal first moved into her neighborhood nine years ago she was a little suspicious. Maybe even a lot suspicious. Because her new neighborhood reminded her of a little place called Stepford, CT. No, that's too harsh. Maybe not Stepford. Maybe just that town on The X-files where the giant arms come out at night and swallow anything that isn't perfect.

Within hours of the moving truck pulling away, a dozen neighbors had stopped by with plates of cookies, cakes and advice. (1) Children frolicked on perfectly manicured lawns before coming in to freshly home cooked meals. ShallowGal had apparently moved to 1954.

But a month after moving in, SG discovered her new neighborhood's best feature. The high school homecoming parade. With candy. Free fricking candy.

Parades demand tradition. For eight years Serendity and her crew have come over. First we raid the bag collection. Then we walk to the corner where we engage in another tradition, the yearly debate about where to watch to ensure maximum candy.

The parade starts precisely at 5 PM. First the marching band marches past but they're busy holding instruments and flags. Thus they have no candy to throw. So even though they're impressive musically, they get this reaction:

Sephora bags are sturdy and the perfect size for collecting candy.
Also, interesting trivia: we always end up on this corner on Presidential election years.

Then the good stuff happens. First the Seniors drive by. SG yells "Seniors rule." And the seniors throw extra tootsie rolls in our direction.

Once the Seniors have passed come the Juniors. "Juniors kick Senior ass." The Juniors lob handfuls of little milky ways our way.

Next are the sophomores. "We love the sophomores," we yell, and are rewarded with peanut butter cups.

Then the freshmen come and because the seniors have since turned the corner, and SG didn't bring her thesaurus, we recycle. "Freshmen rule!" And they do, since they have brought skittles.

The crew team floats by (2) and SG screams "Crew is the best team!" Which they are because they have tootsie pops.

Then a small Miata carrying four students holding a sign that says YOUNG CONSERVATIVES cruises by. And there's a giant McCain sign on each side of the car.

Everyone looks at each other wondering what to do. And ShallowGal yells "Hooray for Young Conservatives!" and for her trouble receives several starlight mints.(3)

And then PCSguy said, and I quote, "you are such a fucking candy whore."

Now ShallowGal may be many, many things, but a candy whore? Actually if asked to make a list, it would probably look like this:

1. Candy whore
2. Mother
3. Blogger
4. Wife (Wife was #3 before someone impugned SG's good name)(4)
   

After the parade a neighbor approached ShallowGal and said "I was so impressed with Jake. He didn't cheer for the young conservatives just to get candy." In other words, ShallowGal is not just a candy whore but an outed candy whore. (5)

She looks sweet and will share ALL her starlight mints.
But don't even think of asking for something chocolate.

ShallowGal may be a candy whore but
at least she isn't going to insist on bringing her candy to bed tonight.

1) One such piece of advice; when Jake turns five he has to join the swim team. Jake was 18 months old at the time.
2) Dude. I didn't even realize that awesome bit of ironic punnery until the editing stage.
3) Although SG has it on good authority that John McCain prefers Werther's Originals.
4)So SG is actually not 'many, many' things. She's just 'some' things. That's so sad.
5) In my own defense, I NEVER would have cheered if I knew they were throwing starlight mints.