This Full House Archive

Category: Garth (NHRN)

The Sad World of the Misunderstood Euphemism, and Zombies
My husband, Garth (not his real name) is a good guy. I mean, like, Eagle Scout good and anyone who knows us (IRL) would most definitely agree adding, "Well, the man IS married to you."

Aaaaand, I'm okay with it (the fact that he's married to me AND the aforementioned euphemism) because, trust me, I am WELL aware of my own limitations.

Like, my inability to withstand the mechanical forces of the earth's gravitational pull (I fall down, A LOT!) or, my penchant for breaking things…okay…wait…for…it…A LOT!

Then, my lack of patience (see also: previous paragraph) is legendary, which makes me simultaneously annoying and popular with the customer service set.

Oh, and the fact that my husband left the house feeling a bit hacked-off (sorry, had kids home sick this week and have Harry Potter and The Deathly Hollows Part II on the brain) and I'm sitting here, acting all misunderstood and everything, with a bazillion OTHER THINGS I SHOULD BE DOING, LIKE:
- Clean the house: but, it's raining and the vacuum is very-nearly-dead.
- Wash the dishes: dishwasher is…wait…for…it…broken.
- Fold laundry: don't want to disturb the cat.
- Wrangle the killer dust bunnies: I believe in raising 'em free range.
- Go grocery shopping: although, I did find some hot dogs and sandwich bread.
- Get my oil changed: in the car I mean, mine is fine (I think).
- Continue ignoring the fact I've got a kid graduating high school in, like, 2 weeks: enough said.
- Prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse: it's coming, y'all.
Aaaaand, this is the part where you guys should be all…like…dude, is your husband ever coming back?

I hope so. For as much as he thinks I hate him, at the moment, truth is I love Garth (not his real name) more than my Dyson (may it rest in peace) and can't imagine celebrating another day (above ground) without him.

He is my good-er half.

Also, our niece is getting married next summer and you know the part where the officiant happily declares the newly married couple as man and wife?

It's going to take ALL of my strength NOT to holler out: brace yourselves, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

Besides, NO ONE is better at putting their hand over my mouth, without ruining my lipstick, than Garth (not his real name) and…wait a second…I really DID mean that, literally…although, on second thought…um…never mind.

I can hear the zombies now, "No brains! Move along!"

You are safe here, my friends, stupid euphemisms.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
May 25, 2012
Flirtexting: While Under the Influence of Children

My husband, Garth (not his real name) had a local Chamber of Commerce thingy to attend last night and, considering it was held at one of our favorite pubs, I'm thinking perhaps it's high time I joined the Chamber of Commerce.

Clearly, those Chamber of Commerce folks know how to, you know, thingy.

Aaaaanyway, Garth (NHRN) and I have been feeling a little estranged, lately (okay, for the last 18 years) but not on purpose, or anything.

We have 4 kids. 3 of whom are teens. Enough said.

Aaaaanyhow, I thought it would be fun to send him a few flirtatious texts to, you know, shake his thingy up a bit.

So, I sent him this:

(more…)

March 16, 2012
D’OH! A Deer!

Reason #3,922,199 why I love Garth (not his real name) for his gorgeous eyes, of course!

My husband and I recently reconnected with his cousin and I was excited to be invited to their holiday party (the hubs, too!)

Beeeecause, they really are a great couple (and they invited us back, anyway?) my cousin-in-law Jayne LOVES to dance (me, too!) and I've heard that they do awesome holiday.

Aaaaand, they did.

But, this guy right here BLEW (buh-dum-bum) and single-handed-ly (mouth-ly, lip-ly, whatev) managed to put us in an awesome holiday-ish mood.

UNTIL!

The next day, when it was time to pick up our kids. That is to say, we were happy to see our kids (of course!)

The prospect of having to drive northbound on the Garden State Parkway (towards New York, if you're not from Jersey) on the last weekend before Christmas (when everyone and their mother is on their way home, too) um, not so much.

So, we took "the back roads" and I bet you dollars to donuts you didn't think Jersey had back roads.

"OH CRAP, LOOK OUT, DEER!!!!"

Or, deer, right?

We were introduced to 3 of them, up close and all personal like (so, how YOU doin'?) and, thanks to my husband's cat-like reflexes (also, the fact that he was driving and NOT me) the slowest one of the group is probably still limping.

After loosening his ninja-death-grip on the steering wheel and making sure everyone was okay-ish, Garth (NHRN) got out to check the front of the car.

"No damage, we must have just bumped that last one."

The irony that we just picked my husband's car from the shop earlier that day, or the fact that, once the shock wore off, my son seemed to be more concerned about the deer.

"WE KILLED A DEER!!!"

Rather than the fact that it could have been much, much worse, was lost on no one.

"They sort of looked like Santa's reindeer."

Especially me, since Rudolph hit MY SIDE of the car.

"Well, he did sort of fly over us."

[blink, blink, blink]

Stupid holidaze, dumbass deer.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

December 19, 2011
George Bailey Meets Clark W. Griswold, Jr.

My husband, Garth (not his real name) works for a bank. Don't worry, he's still a really, really nice guy.

In fact, his customers think he's gosh-darned decent enough to switch from the much BIGGER bank he used to work for.

Previously known as, "the bank that shall not be named."

Now, he works for a small local community bank and I often times joke about my being married to George Bailey (look it up, youngsters) oh, and how my husband is REAL GOOD with OTHER people's money.

Still, I decided to invest in a new dress for their holiday party, seeing as I wore the same dress for the last 2 years and, even though I'd be hard-pressed to remember what the heck anyone else wore (unless it was REAL shiny or SUPER short!)

I took my 16 year-old dress shopping with me, just in case.

Okay, so it is a bit shorter and a whole lot shiny-er than I would have picked (did I mention, the kid is 16?)

Still, it was nice to be able to dress up and pretend like I know how to walk in heels, without fear of breaking my neck, climbing an elegantly-carpeted-and-ever-so-winding-staircase, on the way to the bathroom, for a few hours anyway.

Aaaaand, we had a really, really great time together (see pic at top of post) UNTIL!!!!

"BAH!!!! WTH??? THESE STUPID LIGHTS WERE WORKING YESTERDAY!?!"

When my husband, Garth (not his real name) tried to quickly finish putting up the Christmas lights before heading over to my parents' house for dinner and, well, have you seen the movie Christmas Vacation, yet?

"Maybe, I shoulda done a drum roll, or something?"

[blank stare]

George Bailey, meet Clark Griswold!

[sound of crickets]

I blamed the kids, don't judge.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

December 12, 2011
Nothing Beats a First Snot-Swapping!
My husband, Garth (not his real name) attended a business-related event, last night (yes, without me, go figure) so, the kids and I were on our own for dinner (codeword: pizza) and then settled in to watch one of my most favorite movies of all time.

All 3 of my girls were absolutely enthralled with the idea of 50 First Dates and sort of fell a little in love with Adam Sandler's character, as he attempted to make Drew Barrymore's character fall in love with him…every day.

My 12-year-old son, however, thought Rob Schneider's performance as pure genius, of course.

"Didn't you say you dated a guy like that, once, Mom?"

Long story, short (you're welcome) no, it's not the first time we've watched this movie together and yes, yes I did, although he had both his eyes, the dude was missing a couple of teeth and wore Elmer's glue, instead of hair gel, don't judge.

"What was your first kiss like?"

"Well, his gums were a little slippery and his hair kept poking me in the eye."

[eyes go wide]

"No, NOT HIM and EWWWW, I mean with Daddy?"

I knew what she meant. After approximately 8 years worth of no sleep, trust me when I tell you messing with teenagers is AWESOME!

"Actually, I don't remember."

Yes I do. But, seeing as my oldest girls are well within acceptable dating range (mine, not my husband's) they don't need to know, right?

"I do, I do!"

My 9 year-old, however, was born old and, well, being the youngest of 4 just makes having to explain the birds and the bees stuff a whole lot easier, you know?

"You sneezed snot all over him, right?"

Not quite.

Even longer story, shorter (seriously, you should be thanking me) here's a quick synopsis:
- We met on a blind date.
- Went to the movies.
- Movie turned sad.
- I cried.
- Movie turned sadder.
- I sobbed.
- Clearly, they called it Dead Poet's Society for a reason.
- I blew snot.
- Garth (NHRN) handed me his handkerchief.
- HONK!
- Tried to hand it back to him.
- Told me to keep it.
- I was hooked.
- The end.
2 months later, he proposed. Garth (NHRN) and I were married 13 months after our first date and, well, 4 kids later, suffice it to say we've both sort of grown comfortable with each other's snot.

"Do you still have the handkerchief?"

[frowns]

"Ummmmm…I don't think so."

[one beat, two beats]

"Good, because that would just be SOOOOOOO weird!"

Yes, yes it would and apparently, according to my kids, even for me, go figure.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
May 13, 2011
Blogged in the Year of Lord-Only-Knows

I've been spring cleaning the garage (okay, for the last 15 years, but who's counting?) and, as it turns out, I'm also a little behind on updating my kids' baby books.

This is where you ask me, "So, how far behind are you?"

Seems, my last entry was in 2002, when my youngest daughter took her first steps at 10 months-old.

Hope is turning 10 years-old, in June.

However, I started blogging in 2003 and have been consistently posting my family's milestones, since then, so, there's that, right?

[sound of crickets chirping]

Like, yesterday was my husband, Garth's (not his real name) birthday, just don't ask me which one (I quit counting sometime around 2004) since, you know, in the end, it's not the years that count, it's the mileage, right?

[welcome to cricketcon'11]

So, while Garth (not his real name) and I were out trolling our favorite garden center, yesterday (stupid rain) Hope made this birthday card for her father — HAH!

Our 12-year-old son made him this one and not only does he have his father's sense of humor (28 my left foot!) Glen also appreciates the value of money and its depreciating effects on one's bank account…DAMMIT.

My 15-year-old, however, seems to have inherited her Hungarian grandmother's affinity for making people cry…especially, on their birthday.

My 17-year-old daughter drew this brilliant caricature of her father (HAH!) and, now that I blogged about it, I can reflect back and remember what my husband looks like (stupid extended banking hours) also, after uploading the pic, I just noticed that she signs her name to look like a butterfly, too.

I just love that!

"Honey, do you remember when we bought the water heater?"

In fact, I recently found myself referring back to my blog's archives for non-fluff and totally tax related purposes, only.

"Uh, no, but…wait…I blogged about it…um…okay…back in 2009!"

Too bad my husband, Garth (not his real name) didn't ask me that question, last year, right?

Stupid crickets!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

April 26, 2011
Parenting Tip #93,018,833:
Perfect Hindsight is 20-20
Give or Take a Lifetime

PhotoCredit: HeatherrMarie

I have been accused of being an emotional person upon occasion, or twenty (I know, act surprised anyway, okay?) which means that I absolutely suck at Texas Hold 'Em.

[eyes go wide, hands begin to shake, sweat beads form on upper lip]

I'm ALL in, before all the cards are dealt, even.

"CALL!"

Which, of course, also means that I cannot fake my way through a situation, even if my insurance rates depended on it.

"Why no, officer [hands being to shake] I didn't realize [sweat beads forming on upper lip] that my taillight was [GAH!!!!] yes, yes, I'm sorry, my left headlight is out, too!"

My husband, Garth (not his real name) on the other hand, well, he has this philosophic calm about him and the way he handles confrontation.

Which, of course, also means that he says totally nonsensical, idiomatic stuff, like, "It is what it is," and, "Can't ask a leopard to change its spots," or, my favorite "Six to one, half a dozen to another," NOT!

Unless, you make me cry.

[eyes go wide, hands begin to shake, sweat beads form on upper lip]

Then, my friend, he is not above reading the riot act, to anyone, not even the Queen herself, as quick as you can say Jack Robinson, in the 3rd person, even.

"All persons, being assembled, shall immediately disperse and peaceably depart to their habitations or to their lawful business on the pain of being guilty of an offense for which, on conviction, they may be sentenced to death by idioms, for life."

[blank stare]

"All-uh-yuhs, just get off her back, will yuhs!?!"

Morale of the Story: May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you are going and the insight to know when you have gone too far.

Short Version: Don't make my husband have to go all Jersey on your sorry ass!

God Save the King of Idioms, Garth (not his real name) thanks for having my back, yesterday!

Love always,

The Queen of Dorks (herself!)

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

February 14, 2011
The Maude Squad

WHAT?!? I know. But, it's been a looooooooooooong, cold, winter and, well, the novelty of playing in the snow has worn off, two storm systems ago, to the point where my two youngest are actually, you know, playing with their Christmas gifts.

Please understand that I am in no way advocating gun play…for real…my children are old enough to know the difference and, as you can see, they are also wearing protective eye gear.

Okay, now that we're clear, continue making yourself comfortable and let's talk about sex education.

[the sound of many doors, slamming]

Believe me, having had the talk and embarrassing my two oldest children with stories of how my Eastern European-raised parents and I, you know, did NOT talk (about sex, or anything to do with one's body, from the neck, down, I mean) hence, my believing that…OMG!…French kissing WILL get you pregnant…so, yeah, trust me…I know how you feel!

Personally, I sort of like reinforcing the fact that we, older parental-type units have our hangups, too.

It's hard, you know?

On the one hand, I want to be totally open with my children (sort of) then, again, it's hard to decide how much information they really need to hear, or not. Not to mention, control when, where and who they, you know, hear it from (DAMMIT!)

So, we were watching The Golden Girls the other night.

SLAM!

WHAT?!? I know. But, they also enjoy watching the History Channel, along with Broadway musicals on PBS (yes, WITH ME!) and, well, I believe in providing my children with a well-balanced television viewing experience, too (i.e. no iCarly…EVER!)

"What's impotent mean?!?"

Et tu, Golden Girls?

"Go ask Daddy."

WHAT?!? I already had the talk…twice…YES!…with my son, too!

It's time my husband, Garth (not his real name) ponied up a little help from his end of the gene pool, too.

His explanation?

"You know how what happens sometimes when you first wake up in the morning?"

Oh, wait, this IS gonna be good!

"Well, when a person is impotent, it sometimes doesn't happen, anymore."

[eyes go wide]

"You mean…THEY CAN'T PEE ANYMORE?!?"

SNORT!

Yes, I mean, NO, I explained it a little better (I think!) after I stopped laughing, long enough to blow my nose, compose myself and, you know, speak, of course!

"Mommy, what's impotent mean?"

My 9 year-old daughter, not so much.

"Something we can talk about…later!"

WHAT?!? It does NOT get any easier. I mean, seriously, they don't start teaching sex education until the 5th grade and, well, she IS my youngest and probably knows way more than I do, already.

[sound of crickets chirping]

Wonder what's on Biography, tonight?

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

February 7, 2011
Do I Love Him?

I haven't slept with Garth (not his real name) since, Christmas!

[eyes go wide]

In the same bed, I mean, SHEESH!

We've been married for 20 years and, well, as Doofus is very willing to demonstrate (DAMMIT!) the couch can be pretty comfy, too.

Still, our kids are getting older, we're feeling old-ish (more and more, everyday, dammit!) I guess life is just rubbing our nerves raw, at the moment.

Okay, you can cut the tension with a cotton ball and the hardest part is, you know, pretending like our kids don't notice.

Oh, we're fine — just in case you were wondering or someone closely related to us happens to wander in here and read into stuff he, or she really shouldn't.

SLAM!

It's just real hard to wake Garth (not his real name) once he sits down, poor guy, so it's just easier to let him sleep with the dawg, while I watch Fiddler on the Roof, for the bazillionth time, right?

[the sound of crickets chirping]

Still, it also raises one very important question:

(Garth NHRN)
Do you love me?

(Me)
Do I what?

(Garth NHRN)
Do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love you?
With kids in 4 different schools
And this cruddy flu going around
You're upset, you're worn out
Go inside, go lie down!
Maybe it's indigestion

(Garth NHRN)
"I'm asking you a question…"

Do you love me?

(Me)
I'm a dork!

(Garth NHRN)
"I know…"

But do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love you?
For twenty years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house

PAUSE: Okay, so Garth (not his real name) does ALL of this too (maybe, even more) but, that's NOT the point, here! Continue:

Given you children, milked the cow (no, not really, SHEESH!)
After twenty years, why talk about love right now?

(Garth NHRN)
The first time I met you
I didn't think we'd last the day
I was scared

(Me)
I was shy

WAIT A MINUTE: Okay, for those of you who knew me B.C. (before children) you can all STOP laughing now! Continue:

(Garth NHRN)
I was nervous

(Me)
Truth be told, so was I

(Garth NHRN)
And now I'm asking,
Do you love me?

(Me)
But, I'm such a dork!

(Garth NHRN)
"I know…"
But do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love him?
For twenty years I've lived with him
Fought him, laughed with him
After twenty years the couch is his
If that's not love, I ask you, WHAT IS?

(Garth NHRN)
Then you love me?

(Me)
I suppose I do

(Garth NHRN)
And I suppose I love you, too

No, it doesn't change a thing, but even so, after twenty years, it's sorta nice to know — not to mention, hear myself say it out loud, pretend my blog is a stage and that I sing REAL good, too!

Move over, Doofus (the dawg, I mean!)

© 2003 – 2011 ThisFullHouse.com

January 21, 2011
Congratulations It’s ….

Just the BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT BUTTER, not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…EVUH!!!…looky what WE can do:

Is that thing even loaded?

Yep, Mama's packing and ready to zoom!

Christmas has arrived early at This Full House of sticky floors and crunchy socks…

…bearing 10.3 megapixels and 26x zoom!!!

Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for suggesting that we wait, continue couch diving for loose change and then gift each other with the most BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT BUTTER not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…EVUH!!!

[takes deep breath]

Although, you'll have to pry it from my stupid manfingers with a 33 1/2 inch crowbar, first.

[hides arms, ever so gently, behind back and puckers up BIG]

Merry Christmas, baby!!!

© 2003 – 2010 This FULL House (Re)Views / This FULL House Blahg'd

December 21, 2010