This Full House Archive

Tag: humor

  • They Say Humor Helps Your Heart, Mine Is Cry-Laughing!

    It's been a week since I've been home from the hospital and, well, did you know that laughter lowers blood pressure? Good thing, too — now that high blood pressure and I have a history, dammit.

    Me and Hope Trying to Ignore the Needle in My Arm!

    She fainted while visiting her grandfather in the hospital a few years ago, so we've never been allowed to even mention the word and refer to it as "The place where really sick people go".

    Long story short (you're welcome!): I haven't been feeling very well for quite a while and waited until "Holy crap!" and "MY CHEST HURTS!" oh, and by the way "I CAN'T BREATH!" before getting myself some serious medical attention.

    "Your blood pressure is 193 over 112!"

    Because of my family history, I am very vigilant about getting a yearly physical and I've never had a history with high blood pressure, until now.

    "And it's not going down, so we're going to have to admit you!"

    [one beat, two beats]

    "That's…[huff]…what…[puff]…she…[huff]…said!"

    I don't remember much after my inner-twelve-year-old showed up, but my oldest daughter filled me in later:

    • I apologized to the nurse dude, while the poor guy tried to remove my shapeware-type camisole (because, OF COURSE!) and my industrial-strength bra (because, midlife girls need serious support, yo!)
    • He then removed my flats and I apologized for not freshening up my pedicure from 3 months ago
    • I apologized to the other nurse attempting to insert a port into my arm — prematurely, since I did not end up biting her, I think
    • I apologized to the guy (or woman!) in the emergency bay next to me, because I pass gas when I get nervous…okay, fiiiiiiiiine…I fart, like a boss
    • I apologized to the nurse dude…and to anyone and everyone…FOR EVERYTHING…just in case I pass out…or something

    Even longer story, short (seriously, you owe me a thank you note!): The next couple of days were scary…as all get out…and, well, let's just say I'm bruised from head to toe with all of the prodding…and the poking…HOWEVER…I'm not afraid of needles, any longer…okay, not as much…fiiiiiiiiine…my stomach still hurts!

    "And then she kept apologizing for wearing her industrial-strength bra!!!!"

    Because teenagers love embarrassing their parents, I think it's called payback.

    "It's probably why she couldn't breath!"

    And those were perhaps the BEST five minutes spent…just sitting around the kitchen table with my kids and Garth (not his real name)…cry-laughing…yeah, life was good.

    Until!

    "Well, now that we're all together, we have something to tell you and Daddy!"

    My husband and I looked around the table and opted for the "shut up and listen" parenting strategy.

    "We ALL pooled our money and rented you guys a studio apartment in Cape Cod to spend your 25th anniversary in August!"

    To say that both our eyes went REAL WIDE would be an understatement AND THEN our middle girl (i.e. the spokeskid) looked me dead in the face.

    "Sooooo, now YOU have something to look forward to!"

    [one beat, two beats]

    Garth (to me): "In other words…we can't get our deposit back…DON'T DIE!"

    I gained back close to two years, that day!

  • Frankie Says, RELAX!

    What, You Don't Have One of These

    What, you don't have one of these?

    In my next life, I want to be a cat.  Not MY cat, because, well, he's already used up 3 of his lives and, well, you know.

    Aaaaanyway.

    The point I'm trying to make (and yes, I'll get there, eventually) why do cats always seem so gosh-darned relaxed?

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    Unless, there's a dog around.  Or, kids.  Oh, and something bigger that can, you know, eat it, well, that would be REAL bad.

    Aaaaanyway.

    All it takes is one look at MY cat, all curled up on a chair, or snuggled safely into one of about a thousand baskets scattered throughout the house (what, I've got O.C.C.C. – obsessive compulsive collector of crap, okay?)

    Aaaaanyway.

    What was I saying?  Oh, yeah (I'm old, shuddup!) just one look into his big greenish eyes (go ahead, I'll wait) don't they just SCREAM what IS your problem, right?

    [stupid crickets]

    Aaaanyway.

    I guess what I'm saying (aaaand, if you're still here, reading, there IS a special place in heaven for those who humor debilitatingly dork-ish folks, like me, I swear!) just look at him, go ahead, I'll wait.

    [shrugs]

    See, NOT everything in nature HAS to have a function, all the time…soooo, why can't WE (i.e. human, more specifically, parental unit types) learn to relax…for JUST 5 blessed minutes…right?

    [the sound of many doors, SLAMMING]

    Aaaaanyway.

    Morale of the Story:  Consider this YOUR ticket (to relax, der!) go find a chair, or basket somewhere to curl up in and, you know, just tell EVERYONE:

    "I am grooming my inner-cat!"

    That SHOULD get them hauling tail, out of the room, pretty quick, and gain you AT LEAST 5 minutes of peace and quiet.

    In theory, anyway.

    [SLAM!]

    In the meantime…I know there is NO such word as "dibilitatingly" AND his name is NOT Frankie, but I'm old and it's my blog, so…JUST RELAX..and thankyouverymuch…for humoring me.

    [cue choir of angels]

    Your confirmation is in the mail and you're welcome!

    © 2010 This Full House Blog

  • Silly Mom, Of Course You Can Trick a Rabbit!

    Easter 2009  

    I know, I know, Easter's been over for like, what, weeks now, right?  Except, of course, if you're Orthodox.  Then, it's only been a couple of days.

    Still.

    It's the same thing, every year.  My husband Garth (not his real name) shakes down the Easter Bunny and makes gosh-darned sure that our kids find plenty of chocolate eggs, jelly beans and enough gooey marshmallow treats in their baskets to make any dentist, or orthodontist salivate their way to the bank.

    My job?  Remind the big dumb bunny that…HELLO!…2 out of 4 kids have already been recommended for braces…but, did he listen?

    Of course not, which is why the Easter candy STILL sits on top of my fridge…taunting me…every day.

    Pssst...

    What?

    Look at me.

    No.

    C'mon, looooook…at…me.

    NO!

    It's been weeks, you know?

    Has it?

    Eat me.

    Excuse me?

    EAT ME!

    You're being ridiculous, so just stop it, already.

    C'mon, just one teeny, weeny, little nibble?

    No, thank you.

    If you do, then I…I…I won't bother you, anymore.

    Really?

    Really.

    Promise?

    Promise.

    Okay, just a teeny, weeny, little nibble.

    [heavy sigh]

    Then, my husband went to work.  Then end.

    Whuh-the-whuh?

    Silly rabbit, did you REALLY think I was talking to you?!?!?!?

    [GULP!]

    What?  Like, you never gave in for goodness sake.  Anyway, tomorrow IS Garth's (not his real name) birthday and we've got family coming over and, well, you know.

    [yawns]

    Bon Appetit, my love!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature 

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