Six Minivan Features I Really Need

Starting this summer, Honda Odyssey minivans will be equipped with a built-in vacuum to suck up smashed Goldfish crackers, hardened fruit gummies, and dirty Tic-Tacs that litter the floors of minivans everywhere. Here is a staged picture of the vacuum poised to attack an artfully arrayed gaggle of Froot Loops in an otherwise pristine car:

I think that green Froot Loop is actually defying gravity, which
makes sense since there is nothing natural about a Froot Loop.

 While this is a fabulous idea, there are a few more features that I would like on my minivan...

National Princess Week!

Holy crap! How could I have missed that it is National Princess Week:

That's all. Go about your business.

Law and Order

Some of the craziest stories this week had to do with the law and illegal activity. Totally my area of expertise being that I used to be a lawyer and still remember 7-8% of what I learned in law school. The rest has been replaced by an encyclopedic knowledge of the Kardashians. 

"This is my jail."

First up is this Washington Post article about 13 female prison guards at a Maryland prison indicted for aiding prisoners in the drug-trafficking and money-laundering enterprises the prisoners were running from prison. The women smuggled contraband into the prison and were rewarded with sexy-time with the gang kingpin, Tavon White who fathered five children with four different guards. Two of the guards even got White's name visibly tattooed on their bodies. White also gave two of the women access to a couple of Mercedes, while a third guard was given an Acura to drive. Sucks to be that last baby-mama who apparently got no car or at least one less note-worthy than an Acura.

In case you were wondering, here's Romeo:

Yeah, me either.

For some reason I picture this story becoming a musical set to the music of Beyonce. Can't you just see the female guards wearing uniforms and doing the "Single Ladies" dance? There'd be a duet of "Crazy in Love" between Tavon and the Alpha Baby-Mama. I'd be shocked if Jay-Z hasn't thought of this already and commissioned a script. If not, call me, Jay.

Pregnancy B.S.

I just saw this post in the Motherlode blog of The New York Times about the link between maternal use of antidepressants during pregnancy and an increased (as in 0.6 percent) rate of autism in their offspring. I had a horrible flashback to when I was pregnant and felt like every day I would hear about some study that convincingly argued that something I was consuming would detrimentally harm my unborn baby. Moreover, I felt like every time I went to the doctor, I was given some new horror to worry about. "It's probably nothing, but your baby may be born with three heads. We'll check you again in two weeks! Have a nice day!" I've already discussed the tremendous bedside manner of the student nurse at Emory who could not locate my uterus. But when you're pregnant you're not just worried about your own medical stuff, you have to worry that whatever the doctor is telling you will impact your baby, who you haven't even met, and for all you know he'll hold a grudge.

Profane Sorority Girl Strikes Again

Have you all seen this letter in which a very angry member of Delta Gamma sorority at the University of Maryland browbeats her sisters for their behavior during Greek Week, and specifically for being "fucking awkward" and "so fucking boring" in their interactions with guys in Sigma Nu fraternity? If reading isn't your thing, check out a dramatic reading of said letter by Michael Shannon on Funny or Die. Be warned that if profanity (and lots of it) offends you in any way, you should avoid reading the letter, watching the dramatic reading, and probably reading the rest of this post. If you're ready, tie yourself to whatever chair you're sitting on because this blog post is going to be a rough fucking ride.

It turns out that this isn't the first time that Becca (Gawker changed her name to Julia to protect her identity, but then Funny or Die outed her) wrote a poison pen letter to a group of girls. No, you see, years ago Becca was in the Girl Scouts...

Entertainment-Slumming

So, I watched the first episode of a new television show last night. I wish I could say that I got Mad Men or The Walking Dead on Netflix, but instead I engaged in some entertainment-slumming with What Would Ryan Lochte Do? I'm pretty sure that the title is meant to be rhetorical (probably a word with which Mr. Lochte is not familiar), but just in case E! is looking for an answer, I think this list sums up what he would do in basically any situation:

1. Enthusiastically yell "Jeah!"
2. Demonstrate his ability to wink ambidextrously.
3. Hit on girls.
4. Get involved with a Ponzi scheme.
5. Get confused and eat an entire stick of butter.
6. Wonder why his fingers smell like oranges.
7. Try to eat fingers.
8. Be unable to locate Canada on a map.
9. Admire his sneaker collection.
10. Fall asleep on the bathroom floor.

Yup, I think that answers that question.

SpongeBob Fans are Obsessed with Their Hair

This has been one of those weeks when you ponder the big questions: Why do bad things happen to good people? Is it all worth it? What the hell is the Air Curler? And why is the Air Curler being advertised during SpongeBob SquarePants? Do eight year olds really need a way to curl their hair without risking a curling iron burn? Since I am incompetent to answer philosophical questions (and Constitutional Law questions...but that's another story) I'm going to attempt to handle the "as seen on TV" product questions.

This is the Air Curler:

At first I thought it looked like something you might use in the kitchen, maybe to clarify butter or decant wine. Then I looked at a butter clarifying machine and it looks like a trivet and a decanter looks like a genie bottle. Then I thought, no, it looks like the inhaler they give to little kids that's in between a nebulizer and the adult inhaler. Like this:

Which would actually make sense to advertise during SpongeBob SquarePants since nearly 10% of kids today have asthma. And also this:

which simultaneously amuses and depresses me, if you know what I mean.

What Moms Do

In late June of 2010, the K had a conference in Boston and we all went with him. "Great," I thought, "Boston is awesome! It's historic. It has an aquarium and museums, there will be tons to do. What a great family trip!" I was about 4/5th correct. What I didn't count on was that the K would actually attend the conference and I would be on my own, playing tour guide to the children (at that point they were age six, four, and one) in a city I'd been to exactly once time and that was when I was 8 years old.

I came up with an ambitious agenda for our trip including riding the swan boats at the Public Garden, visiting the New England Aquarium, going to the Boston Children's Museum, and taking a Boston Duck Tour. And I was going to do all these things with my entourage of small children and despite my miserable sense of direction. Because that's what moms do. You forget about the hassle and the difficulty and you just do it because you want your children to experience something and you don't want them to think that new experiences aren't worth a little effort. I'm sure that this was similar to what Denise Richard thought when she took her children to see the Boston Marathon. You prepare as well as you can: packing snacks, water bottles, extra diapers, hand wipes, and sweatshirts in your mommy bag, trying to think of anything your children might need on your outing. What you don't count on is a terrorist attack destroying your family.

Evidence That My Family is Trying to Drive me Insane

I've been gathering pictorial evidence of a low-level plot that my family has concocted. I don't know what the end game is yet, but I'm pretty sure it involves me losing my mental faculties. The alternate title for this blog is, "This is the stuff you miss when you're at work," which is really a love-letter from all stay-at-home parents to their working partners.

Example 1:

 And yes, the cans are half-empty, not half-full. Don't judge me, it's been that kind of week.

Funny Friday

If you are a regular reader of ye olde bloge, you'll know that yesterday I generously offered up a case of viral pneumonia free to the first taker. Well, Albuterol-induced insomnia aside, she does seem slightly better today. So, if you took me up my offer, THANK YOU and I'll leave the Hello Kitty doll outside the front door. Goodbye Kitty! Speaking of Hello Kitty, check this out:

Hu Han-yan of Taipei got Hello Kitty shaved into his hair to cheer up his elderly father. That's such a great idea! For Mother's Day this year, I want the Boy to get a picture of a jar of Nutella shaved into his hair. That would totally cheer me up! Of course, I might be tempted to lick his head. I think the Boy might be okay with that since licking isn't on his list of "bad touches."

Once in a Lifetime Offer! Act Now!

Free to a good home, one case of viral pneumonia. "But why?" you may ask, "Why would you want to part with such a well-known and impressive malady?" I'll tell you, in the last month we've had one case of strep and two cases of stomach flu, and I feel like we've been overly blessed in the childhood illness department. I'm just trying to share the wealth and to give you the chance to experience the joy that only a sick child can provide. Just think about all the fun you would be missing if you pass on this amazing opportunity: A hacking cough that frays your nerves, setting your alarm for 2:30 am to administer another dose of Motrin, and listening to hours on end of Bubble Guppies (they are mermaids of both sexes who have an airport for some fucking reason). Have you even tried to give cherry flavored Children's Tylenol to a kid with a raging fever who hates cherry flavoring? You will never forgive yourself if you passed up such a priceless moment.

Fun and Gender Roles at Legoland Discovery Center

It's spring break this week, so naturally I'm drinking until I pass out, sleeping until 3 pm, and enjoying one meal a day at the all-you-can-eat buffet at Cici's Pizza. Or something like that. Since the kids aren't really big on Cici's Pizza, I took them to Legoland Discovery Center on Monday. I wasn't expecting much since it was carved out of the food court at Phipps Plaza, but I favorably impressed. I bought the tickets in advance, but there was no line when we arrived at 10:30. Immediately after we entered the Center, an employee rushed around a brightly colored vestibule asking kids to push buttons and measure themselves in Legos. He handed out some yellow commemorative Legos to the kids and seemed to be stalling to keep us in the holding area. When he finally let us leave, it was clear that he was charged with slowing the flow of traffic to the next attraction, which was Kingdom Quest, a fun knock-off of the Buzz Lightyear ride at Disney World (which is basically the same as the Toy Story at Disney Hollywood Studios). I think the premise had something to do with saving a princess or shooting spiders or maybe vanquishing skeletons, I'm not exactly sure. What I do know is that we sat in a moving pod and used an infrared gun to shoot at anything that looked like a target.

This picture resembles the actual ride about as much as an eagle resembles a chicken.
Yes, they're in the same family, but you would never mistake one for the other.

Weekend By the Numbers

1090 - Calories in the Taco Mac kids corn puppies consumed by the Boy on Friday night. 

0 - Actual puppies in the Taco Mac kids corn puppies (probably).

3 - Stuffed animals the Boy won playing the claw grab-it game at Taco Mac.

9 - Dollars spent on the claw grab-it game before "winning" the stuffed animals.

7 - The probable age of the child laborer who made the stuffed animals.

19 - Hours before one of the stuffed animals needed to have its stitched nose surgically replaced by a button.

9 - Hours of I slept on Friday night.

8.75 - Hours per night that a world class athlete sleeps.

23 - Hours per week that a world class athlete trains.

6 - Hours per week that I drag my tired ass out of bed to jump around our family room while Jillian or Jackie or Amy yells at me so that I can continue to stuff myself with Nutella each day.

Funny Friday

Okay, I would like to confirm that my snake post on Monday was an April Fool's Day joke. My apologies to Dad, the K, and all my neighbors who (at least briefly) thought that we were infested with copperheads. I hope everyone realized it was a joke before Petsmart had a run on mongooses (yes, that is the plural form of mongoose).

Mongoose posse.

Poor the K. I have been playing April Fool's Day jokes on him for almost 15 years, and this was my most successful one since the tiger joke of 2000. We were living in Birmingham, and I told him that I had been walking past Mountain Brook Village when there was some major commotion because a tiger had escaped from the Birmingham Zoo and was marauding around the Western Supermarket parking lot, terrifying the shoppers. He.Totally.Bought.It. This story is funnier if you've been to Mountain Brook Village, which is very fancy...think Princeton or maybe Short Hills Mall, if you're from New Jersey. I kept embellishing the story more and more, describing the people crouched behind the dumpster, hiding from the tiger and animal control officials trying to shoot the tiger with tranquilizer darts. Finally, when I told him that the tiger seemed to be concentrating its attack on the Alabama fans, he figured out that it was a joke.

Get it? Auburn's mascot is a tiger, so of course the tiger
would go after the Alabama fans. 

Bully Pulpit

Why can't someone at Rutgers win a Nobel Prize? Whenever my alma mater is in the news it's about a student committing suicide because his homophobic roommate spied on him via webcam or because the University paid Snooki $32,000 for a student center speaking engagement. Today it's a video of Rutgers men's basketball coach, Mike Rice screaming gay slurs at players, hurling basketballs at their heads, and generally acting like a total tool. In case you don't want to watch the whole thing, here's a still from the video:

Rice is in the black shorts, pushing the player.

I've never played men's varsity basketball at a collegiate level, so I'm not the best judge of whether this behavior is in the normal realm for this arena. But, I did go to law school and even thought I only have vague memories of first year, I'm pretty sure I saw some examples of intentional torts in the video. Also, here's what LeBron James (who knows waaaay more about basketball than I do) tweeted:

Even though it's slightly unclear from James's tweet, I'm pretty sure he's "gone whoop on" the coach and not his son. I'm learning that Twitter's brevity sometimes leads to confusion.  My favorite tweet on the subject from some random guy on Twitter:

I know, right?

Snakes. Why'd it Have to be Snakes?

The Girl is home sick today with a little something I like to call toomuchEastercandy-itis. The symptoms are waking up at 5:30 and puking and then getting miraculously better from watching Spongebob, eating Goldfish crackers, and sipping Diet Sprite. Oh, my bad, Sprite Zero. As she was relaxing on the couch, I looked outside and almost threw up myself when I saw this bad boy sunning himself on our deck:

HOLY CRAP, right?