How to Deal with a Sick Kid

How to Deal with a Sick Kid

Subtitle: Screw last days. A sick kid right before Christmas is FAR more annoying. 

Step 1: Be observant. Yes, I do understand that if you are the female and/or household head in your relationship that you are working quite hard to wrap, shop, clean, pay the bills, bake, take the kids to parties, organize your own parties, try to decorate, make sure the kids do all that cheesy shit you are expected to do for Christmas which would be possible if you  didn’t have to do the rest of that above as well, but take note that your six year old hasn’t tried to talk your ear off all morning and/or is not eating the raw dough to your Daniel Jackson cookies. SHIT! Look at that fever. 

Step 2: Call your mom. You would think that calling the doctor would be the next logical step, but it’s not. Chances are you kid in never going to get sick during doctor’s hours and the doctor on call does not know your kid or your history. That and BEFORE we decided to scream and cry and get 15 shots for a scraped knees we USED to take care of things ourselves, with stuff like chicken soup.  Call mom. Describe symptoms. Get diagnosis. Begin Treatment. Remember Treatment. After all, someone is gonna be calling you someday. 

Step 3: The bathtub. The very first thing you will want to do is to pop that kiddos into the bathtub, but, like most kids they will not want to go. Read this next conversation carefully, very carefully. It will work every time. 

Mom: Get in the tub

Kid: No, mom, I don’t WANT to get in the tub. I’m cold. 

Mom: That’s fine. How about some Tylenol. 

Kid: Ok, grape or cherry?

Mom: Nope, up the butt. 

Kid: (Already in tub) 

Step 4: Subscribe to Netflix. It’s quick, easy and can be accessed free for like 30 days. Pop on some stupid Nickelodean or Disney channel show, set your computer up on a chair in the baño and let them watch crap after crap while they cool down. Just keep in mind that you will probably need to be in there as well. Trying to NOT watch cheesy pre-teen drama. 

At this point I would like to mention that Netflix can be used on more than once device, i.e. your PHONE. And Netflix has a fine selection of Michael Shanks movies. Not the greatest entertainment he insists often, but he’s hot, so we overlook it. 

Step 5: Sobe or Gatoraide LIGHT. They made Pedialyte and this other trendy crap but most kids in my experience HATE it, really hate it.  And have you tried it! It is like drinking watered down syrup! It is awful. Like, it is so bad that I have a pretty good feeling that if there is a hell that the devil is sitting on his throne waiting to make you drink Pedialyte for the rest of eternity. 

Moral of the story: Don’t do this to your kids. It’s cruel. 

Step 6: The set-up. Ok, so fever has broken. Pop that little booger out nad set up camp. Surround them in pillows in the bed, offering them various stages of propped upedness so they are now calling for you every five minutes to fluff their pillow. Sobe in a cup with a straw, trust me on the straw, because without a straw and lid they cough once, and you’re right back in the tub without a fever reason. Leave a sleeve of saltines, they are gonna get hungry and really if they puke you don’t want to clean anything else up. Move that laptop to the bedroom and switch to a longer movie or something, preferably something of actual quality. Which means it was made in the 1980’s and featured Muppets. 

Step 7: Now you’ve got it. Yeah, yeah, so in all of the other prep and whatnot you forgot to take zinc, C or all of the other stuff you were supposed to take to deal with this. WHAT THE HELL!! So now, your kids are still hacking, you are now running a fever of 103 F and your house is a disaster because it is Christmas. You feel like such crap that you are actually pondering moving to Canada where germs are actually killed because there is a real winter which is completely against your character because you want to steal Michael Shanks away and go live on a beach and make him pretend to be Daniel Jackson for the rest of his life and then you can pretend....

Sorry about that....

Fever and all....

The Advil is kicking back in. 

Step 8: Daniel Jackson. When DON’T I need him, really? Ok, this time it’s because you are shivering as your body fights the fever and you would normally have Hot Roommate to take care of you but he’s dealing with the kids who have fevers again and you really want him to be dealing with the kiddos. So, the next best thing. Lie in bed, sick and alone, and pretend he is coming to check on his assistant, who he is just friends with, and you are shivering and he wants to help keep you warm...with body heat...

Wow...I really have no brain filter with a fever, do I?

Step 9: Survive. Without fail your husband will never catch this, or catch only a MILD case of this and your kids will get better and be BOUNCING off the walls whilst you are trying to figure out if your nose is still attached to your head. You can watch Zombies. Dream about Daniel. Write about Daniel. Talk to people on Skype and chat and the phone. Or you can just lay in the bathtub and prepare your eulogy. 

I think I am going to die. 

Can someone make sure people lie about me at the funeral?

Thanks 

Step 10: Wake up! I can breathe! My head does not hurt! I am upright! It does not hurt to stand! Happy! Joy! Woo hoo!!

Now where’d that wine go? 

Drinking, sure? 

If I am gonna feel like shit I might as well have a good reason for it! 

How to Salvage Christmas

How to Salvage Christmas

Subtitle: Holy shit Christmas is tomorrow and I have spent my entire month thinking the world was ending and preparing for that so DAMN YOU MAYANS YOU SCREWED ME OVER.

I'm better now. 

No, really, I don't think I'm gonna have any midnight surprises. 

Athena willing...

Step 1: Make a list. I cannot stress the importance of this because those crafty little Christmas merchandisers KNOW that you'll be frantic and just buy stuff so they stash it on your entire walk to the register. Make this list BEFORE you leave home. Yes honey, I made a list. Well, I needed a new nose ring. And those socks. And that bag of candy. You can't get cookie sheets that cheap year round....oh dammit just stop.

Step 2: Call your best friend. Trust me, you can't do this alone, in fact, you'll need to call this friend if for no other reason than to have someone to laugh at people with. I mean honestly, when you're getting out of your car at the mall and people are riding around yelling "Bitch, get yo azz in da car!" only to go into the mall itself to see that every parent who has an over-sugared disturbed child is letting them run loose around the mall, you will need another soul with which to lament that the Mayans were wrong. 

Step 3: Coffee. Just as important as the wine in your life should be the coffee this holiday season and since you can't drink and shop, mall food is nasty and for some reason that you will NEVER understand malls in the good 'ole US of A ONLY carry Pepsi products. Nothing against Pepsi, but really EVERY SINGLE THING in the food court, everything is a Pepsi product? What happened to choice? Ok, well, the good thing is that coffee is hard to screw up and the caffeine high makes up for you having to be with these crazy idiots who are hanging out at the mall without bags because they are just HERE and not shopping. 

DAMN YOU MAYANS!!! I WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER PREPARED!!!

Oh, Pseudo-Brother thank you. Yes, one cream, two sugars. 

Just like Daniel Jackson.

Think Daniel Jackson. 

All better. 

Step 4: Don't eat the cookies. No, really, if you need a cookie THAT bad BUY IT FIRST. No joke, we were in Walmart, cutting through the grocery section to get back to automotive so I could buy Hot Roommate a stereo for his truck and there were OPENED cookies at the holiday cookie table, OPENED, and were not samples, they were eaten. People just opened the cookies and took to eating them. Triflin, just triflin. 

And I DEF wouldn't touch those cookies nasty person who is looking at the box with me reaching forward. 

On second thought, go ahead. 

Maybe someone put the plague in those cookies. 

Step 5: Remember that to buy something people like and not hipster bullshit you needed to plan ahead. Like NOT the day before ahead. All I wanted was to get my son an earring. Yes, he has a pierced ear and he wanted a little thing like a skull and maybe some super hero logos. BUT NOOOOO. Boys earrings consisted of ONE thing and ONE thing ALONE - LARGE FAKE DIAMONDS.  My son does not want to look like a gangster, he wants to look like a little kid with an earring, but when I ask you for a skull you start to tell me WHAT boys are wearing. Let me lay this out for you idiot since you aren't getting it.  I'm standing here wearing pretty & preppy Express brand clothes with FOUR facial piercings and more earrings in my right ear than one human should have. I quite obviously am NOT caring what EVERYONE is doing. Show me to the damn skulls. 

Step 6: Don't shop at places call Italian Jewelry. See, I think that was my mistake with Step 5 because the cute little punky girl at Claire's helped me right away. The fact it was CALLED Italian jewelry and had the TACKIEST shit on the planet on display right by their sign SHOULD have clued me in, well, it DID clue me in, but I went anyway. Asked about a skull or bone earring. Guy looked at me funny and showed my stupid fake diamonds.  I switched to Spanish because he was pissing me off and acting like he didn't speak English and IF he was Italian he WOULD understand me (I spoke Spanish in Italy and got along JUST fine). He said "I understood you, people don't like skulls." 

Well I DO ASSHAT. 

Me to Pseudo - brother: Why can we NEVER have a normal shopping experience?
Pseudo-brother to me: (Shrugs) Fate.

Step 7: Don't price compare, ever, because if you're waiting till NOW to shop, well, you just need to buy what you want when you see it and stop stressing. If you don't you'll either go to five stores, remember that either store number one or store number two had it cheapest, go back there and it's gone OR you'll be tired, annoyed at fake Italian jewelry salesman, only to see that the perfume place has the Obsession your sister wanted cheaper than the department store but the line is hanging out and you're too close to that damn jewelry store and you might just start swearing at those stupid asshats in a third language. Just go home. 

Step 8: Get the futon out of my van. I really have to stop doing people favors. Part of the damn reason that I've dragged Pseudo-Brother to the mall tonight is simply because he has the bikes that Santa is bringing the kids that he has been hiding in his living room for a month and now I can't get the damn things in because I have a futon in my van that does not belong to me.  So here we are, in a dark parking lot, where people are riding around swearing (Really what has happened to this mall!?!) trying to quickly transport two bikes from one car to another. 

This does NOT look kosher.

And as my friends know I'm already on the outs with the law. 

Hurry dammit, here comes mall security. 

Step 9: Get home. Seriously, I'm laughing so hard at how ridiculous all of this was and I've only been out for two hours. TWO HOURS. In two hours I've managed to: 

1. Impulse buy about $50 of shit I don't need. 

2. See people just a' openin' and a' eatin' cookies without paying like you are just supposed to. 

3. Almost get hit by THREE cars. 

4. Been given a fashion "lesson" by sleazy fake Italians. 

5. Almost punched said fake Italians for their smart mouth. 

6. Paid too much money for already overpriced perfume. 

7. Managed to get stared at like I was stealing bikes. 

Just. Go. Home. 

Or stop for more coffee. 

One cream, two sugars. 

Daniel. 

With Daniel.

Better. 

Step 10: Drink. I drank all of the moonshine. Damn Mayans. All I have left is wine in a box which I bought because I figured, hey, why not, the world is ending, might as well buy wine in a box and NO ONE DRANK IT. Seems I've established a standard of drinking in my household. Excellent. Well, I've got that and I think there might be some daiquiri in the freezer. Might as well! 

Cheers everyone! Have an AWESOME Christmas. 

I'll see you on Kujichagulia - sound it out phonetically, TRUST ME..... XD 

How to Kiss Your Ass Goodbye

How to Kiss Your Ass Goodbye

Subtitle: Honestly, I'm not sure what I will miss more, the Earth itself OR being able to use the End of the World as an excuse for my behavior. 

Indy Zombie

Bri/Addy Zombie 

A list of the top ten things I got my husband agree to this year "just in case" we were in our last days. (And a few just mean things I did with the power of the gag)

#10: It let me make fun of my students. Not that I don't do that anyway, but the fact that this all started when some kid told me that I HAD to believe in this because I was a Spanish teacher just made it all that much more fun. 

Students: Do you believe in the Mayan calendar?

Me: Yep

Students: Really?

Me: Yep (kids get nervous)

Students: Sra., what did the Mayans say we should do??

Me: Buy Twinkies (pause) *laugh hysterically*

Stduents: That's not funny Sra. We BELIEVE what you say!!!

#9: The Thriller. Since this was going to be my last birthday, I got Hot Roommate to agree to take me to the theme park, dressed in Zombie garb, covered in fake blood, on my birthday, to learn to dance the Thriller. It's surprisingly easy. Hot Roommate said normal women like to go to fancy restaurants and get jewelry. I got to play a zombie and got a piercing. :) Win. 

#8: I got to ride every ride at King's Dominion. And not alone. There were some things, i.e. the Dominator (that people have BLACKED OUT) and the DropZone (that some chic got her legs cut off in Ohio). I took Hot Roommate with me. He rode EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. And not only that but he held my hand while the rides were ascending and I was in some cases crying. All in the name of the End of the World. 

#7: Hank. No, this is more for my husband than anything, but we bought a REALLY BIG TRUCK that we named after Hank McCoy (the Beast from X-men) for no reason. HIS reason(s)?? For one, if the world ends, we won't have to pay for it anyway. Secondly, it will hold up really well in the Zombie Apocalypse as long as we have gas to siphon. 

Hardened Zombie Killer 

Point for husband. 

#6 DisneyWorld. I am NOT a fan. I like Disney movies, just not mobs of obnoxious people paying more money than they should for something that was probably made in a sweat shop, but I digress... In the interest of my children, and my desire to give them some fun memories before they become hardened Zombie Killers, I braved DisneyWorld and learned some value lessons that you can find HERE. 

If you have not read this entry and are short on time, I will recap. 

Stay at the Polynesian. 

#5 Making Friends with Strange Foreign people. Evidently, I'm not the only person on the planet in love with a fictional space archaeologist. I decided to give Twitter a second chance and met some cool ass people. This is AFTER Hot Roommate warned me of the dangers of strange Canadians (confused?? see THIS entry) but I didn't listen to him. I made friends. Got a passport. Mailed presents. Got presents. And if we survive tomorrow, I'm meeting up with said crazy folk to group jump Mr. Canadian Hot Pants next summer. Watch out sexy...we're coming...

#4 Tattoos. I've always tattoos, but using the Mayan Calendar as my excuse, I upped my two tats at the start of 2012 to seven, the most important of which are Athena & Dionysus.  After all, when the Zombies do get me and I'm sent to the Underworld and meet up with Aeacus, Rhadamanthus and King Minos that I can just flash my wrists and be like, look, I'm in good with TWO of the big man's kids...

Owl of Athena 

Zombie Jello 

#3: Convert the Christmas Party to an End of the World Party. No cute sweaters and carols over here. The only Carol you are getting is running from Zombies, and Twinkies, Ramen and Chef Boyardee are at the top of the menu. We are having a champagne toast at midnight when we survive. The decor will be Mayan and Zombie. There will be shenanigans. 

#2: Piercings! When 2012 started, I had five piercings. I now have twelve. And EVERY pre-piercing conversation went like this. 

Me: Honey, I'm going to get _______ pierced. 

Hot Roommate: No

Me: Yes, it's my body. 

Hot Roommate: That I have to look at. 

Me: Please (pouts like girls I hate but he can't say no to)

Hot Roommate: Why?

Me: Because if the world ends, I will never know what it was like to have a ________ piercing. 

I repeat. I now have TWELVE. :P

See my tongue LOL??

#1: ChiCon!!! Yes, using the End of the World as my justification I got my husband to drive FOURTEEN hours on our WEDDING ANNIVERSARY for me to HUG ANOTHER MAN. 

It went down like this: 

Me: AHHHH!!!! Michael Shanks is doing a US CONVENTION. 

Hot Roommate: Oh god, of course he is. Where?

Me: Chicago.

Hot Roommate: That's too far...

Me: No, it's about as far as going to see your family. 

Hot Roommate: When is it?

Me: Our Anniversary....

Hot Roommate: Brianne....

Me: PLEASE. What if the world ends and I never got to hug Daniel Jackson???

Daniel Jackson, wait, I mean Michael Shanks :P 

Guess who I hugged????

Daniel Jackson

MWAHAHAHAHA

P.S. Remember how Monday was supposed to be about how to get in if you are headed our way once the world ends???

I'm gonna keep it simple:

Don't be a selfish asshat and bring food and wine. 

See you there...

How to Survive Black Friday

How to Survive Black Friday

Subtitle: Me and mine have a system. Yes, a system. We get the TVs. We get the PCs. We get the toys. And we live to talk about it.

SubSubTitle: LOOK AT YOUR CART! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!! 

SubSubSubTitle: That’s too many towels...

Step 1: Case the joint.  The A #1 mistake made by Black Friday shoppers is just a’showin’ up and taking the map the little dude who is ushering you through to cart corral hands you. Nope, that ain’t gonna work. You NEED to know where in the hell you’re going in advance AND where the large empty space in the store is. Cuz dem bitches SNEAKY. They do shit like hide the towels near the TV’s. If you know the store you can determine that running through intimate apparel is the fastest back route to said elusive towels. 

Step 2:  Sort your ads at kitchen counter while husband tries to talk to you before coffee like he doesn't know better AND forces the kids to watch the parade who are consequently whining about not wanting to watch the parade and coming to try to steal your ads and bitching about what they want for Christmas which is NOT what they told you last week when you started looking up leaked info and store maps online and now they’re screaming because there IS a good song on the parade and your husband just sprayed counter cleaner on the Macy’s ad with the COUPON and AHHHH!!!!

Breathe in. Breathe out. Think about Daniel Jackson. Just think about Daniel Jackson. 

Step 3: Don’t forget your camera, because shit’s gonna pop off at the Walmart and not over what you think. Honestly, I did this for YEARS and NEVER EVER saw anything go down like what went down on TV and the ONE year I did not bring a camera and DID split up from one of my dearest friends and shopping buddy. That was the ONE year that some women started fighting over Boost Mobile phones. No lie. (And they did that this year too apparently! Do these phones sort laundry or something? House crack?) But I DID get to listen to it over the phone. CLASSIC.  This time, my iPhone is CHARGED and ready to go! 

Step 3A: Make sure there is room in the car. Really, because nothing sucks worse than having to stop shopping because you’re out of room in the car. You need as much room as possible for the towels. 

Step 4: Get in Line. This really doesn’t have to be as bad as it sounds. Now I have heard horror stories but my area is pretty good.  And we’re Southern, which means I’m striking up a conversation with the random woman behind me regaling her of tales of years past which include but are not limited to:

• Crawling between people’s legs when I was 16 to get my sister a Tickle Me Elmo
• Using walkie talkies pre-cell phones to divide and conquer
• Throwing Fisher Price toys in football like passes to my mother so she could dash to the line
• Gone to five stores to find the BatCave that came with the BONUS villains

Step 5: Bathroom Passes. I’m not even kidding here and as a teacher I find this to be HILARIOUS. Here is how it goes down: If you are purchasing something at a major retailer, like Walmart or Best Buy, you are going to have to complete step 4 HOURS in advance. If you want the 50” TV for $250 that goes on sale at 10, you will need to line up at 6, but never fear! Since you’re having to drink INSANE amounts of coffee chances are you’re going to have to pee (See Mr. Shanks we women have to pee EVERYWHERE so I LOVE you but I did stop on my 14 hour trek to pee! No worries! :) ). So what do they do? THEY GIVE YOU A BATHROOM PASS!!! They are pieces of paper with your name, the time you left the time and the time you have to be back lest your forfeit your place in line AND a store employee has to SIGN IT. JUST.LIKE.HIGH.SCHOOL. Honestly, I’m sad I didn’t buy a TV just to experience this. 

Step 6: Distraction. If you want a hard to get item this is a MUST. Because what’s going to happen is when you get to the bikes, which is the ONLY thing your kids seem to want this year, there is going to be a woman that is going to be letting everyone know who is getting what bike and how this is going to go down and blah blah blah lady are you still talking but then as she is asking you for the ten thousandth time what time it is she will notice that the crock pots that she also wanted are being opened early so she starts screaming and the people who were listening to her like she ACTUALLY had a say over who gets a bike are confused, so you just shove your way through, rip open the plastic and take your bike. 

I hope you got your crock pot. 

I’m at the register.

With the bike. 

Step 7: Why do you need that many towels?? No for real, the only thing my friend here wants is towels they are gone in seven minutes, seven minutes, like we’re talking HUNDREDS of towels are GONE. So on the way to the register you notice that they’re ALL in ONE cart. I’m not kidding! Is there something I don’t know? People are hoarding Twinkies, there’s a TV show about prepping for the end of the world and now towels. That’s it, it’s the Towelpocalpyse. We are in our last days. 

Step 8: Watch what you wear because without fail since I’m young looking (yay, even at 32 I get carded, for real not just carded because it’s a rule) some old person is going to think you work there and try to ask you questions. It will go down like this: 

Old Man: Excuse me, do you have any more crockpots in the back (On a side note, is this a last days sign as well?? Why does everyone want a crockpot??) 

Me: No sir, sorry, I don’t work here.

Old Man: (scanning me up and down) You don’t? 

Me: No sir, I don’t (scanning myself, as I wear black and gray almost EXCLUSIVELY - just like Mr. Canadian Hot Pants if I might add - and we’re in Target and their employees wear RED). 

Old Man: So, you don’t know if there are any more crockpots?

Pseudo-Brother: Walk away Brianne, just walk away. 

Step 8A: Side Target conversation. 

Me: Hey, wait. I need a toaster.

Pseudo-Brother: None of those toasters match any color scheme in your kitchen.

Me: I’m not gonna leave it on the counter, I’m gonna pull it out when I need it. 

Pseudo-Brother: Oh, in that case, get the red one.

Me: No, I want a yellow one.

Pseudo-Brother: That’s not yellow, that’s orange. 

Me: Yellow

PB: Orange

Me: Yellow

....... (continues for next 20 minutes) 

Step 9: Don’t give up. Just because it’s gone in one store doesn’t mean it’ll be gone in another. Like towels! In fact, you might be able to go back down to Walmart, that same Walmart where you tricked bitches into bikes and saw the Towelpocalpyse go down and there will be the towels, so you stop, try them on and decide they suck and the ones you found EVERY WHERE ELSE are better. I hope that man enjoys his scratchy towels that don’t cover his ass. We made sure to test in advance. 

Step 10: Coffee!!! I’m starting to worry about wine. No, seriously, I drink significantly less now as this blog soldiers on and significantly more coffee. Age? Nah, it’s probably the whole running thing. Whatever. Anyway, It’s about 8 a.m. when normal people might be rolling over to launch alarm clocks, but you, no you’re at the IHOP, being rescued. You haven’t slept in well over 24 hours. Your car should be full of shit that might actually not be for anyone else but you. You’ve been listening to hard core rap since 1 a.m. laughing about some of the morons that were smacking each other for a corded printer. But your kids actually slept tonight and you have to be a parent. 

Damn happy I scored a Keuring for $60. 

And the toaster is yellow. 

How to Start the Christmas Season

How to Start the Christmas Season

Subtitle: I am usually forced to be in this. This year I decided to watch. That might have been a bad choice. 

Step 1: Leave early. Yes, the parade starts at 2, but since I live in a small town it is literally the only thing going on except for buy on get one free Starbucks, which I’d like to add is pretty damn amazing in an of itself. However, you would think that since the parade starts at 2:15 and the road (yes THE ROAD not ROADS) close at 2 you would have plently of time to get there if you leave at 1:20 and live fifteen minutes away.  It’s not. How in the hell did so many people move out here without my noticing. Who are you people? I went to high school with the whole town and I don’t know you? Who are you? Regardless, get out of my way. My mom is calling again. For the tenth time. I need wine already. 

Step 2: Wear clothes. First, I feel like this is a step in every other blog. Should I just write an entry on dressing properly? Like always?  Aren’t you cold? Ok, let’s just for a moment disregard the morons wearing t-shirts and shorts in forty degree weather, let’s just focus on these people. See them? Have you seen them on www.peoplepfwalmart.com . Yup, they live here, in my town.  Forget anything else you might have to say about their attire.  Dem bitches GOT to be cold. 

Step 3: Find a place to sit. After you have recovered from the site above, you need to find a place to sit.  Don’t let your mother pick, because she seems to think it is ok to sit by the gutter. It’s a hole, she insists. Yes mom, it is called a gutter and the kids will drop something down there and it will be the end of the world. Mom goes on to ask kids if they want to sit over the hole. It’s a gutter mom. Shut up, she says, I’ve been working all morning. Touche mom, touche. Carry on. 

Step 4: Listen to your mother talk to inanimate objects. Seriously, my mother is hysterical anyway, but to hear her after she has worked and running on little sleep is even better. First, we have the hole incident. Next, my mom starts yelling at people trying to drive into the parade like they can hear her. Then, once my Stargate jacket is recognized (No morons here I am not a veteran - does the GIGANTIC SG-1 patch not give it away!?!?) then my mother proceeds to tell every person on the curb we were sitting on that I drove 14 hours to hug Michael Shanks, that he wished me a Happy Birthday and doesn't do it that much anymore and wished me luck on my half marathon, switching in an instant to why the cops should not tell stupid people to move away from the train track because they deserve to be hit if  they are stupid. God I love her. 

Step 5: Then watch your mom tell off some yuppies. This entire entry has very quickly gone to enjoy a Christmas parade to my mom is the funniest woman alive. Hands down.  Lesson here is that if you show up to a small town parade in your Ralph Lauren sweaters and your $1000 stroller and party right in front of us my mom will TELL YOU OFF. And not with swears or anything, she will say the most downright mean things that you will not understand because you are not as smart as she is. So move. Because if you don’t she might actually switch to the swears. 

Step 6: The parade begins! Did I mention way back in step 1 to pack some blankets. Oops, but in my defense I thought it felt a lot warmer at home. It’s not. The kids are crawling into your lap while you try to film the parade for your grandparents and online friends, complaining of cold, wind, life, hunger, anything they can possibly whine about rather than watch the actual parade. 

Me: Sit up. Watch the parade. 

Kids: We’re bored. 

Me: Why?!? Here comes the band. 

Kids: They don’t have any candy. 

I give up on parenting. 

Step 7: Bring some kind of back-up to your cell phone. So, you are trying to be a good grand daughter and film the parade but of course your phone is a bing bonging and dying and bleeping and blooping and some of those hicks in your small town keep walking in front of you because since you are not shouldering a 10,000 pound VHS camcorder they are completely unaware that you are recording and when the person in their group with teeth notices you are filming they lean all over in your face mystified at how that contraption works. Long story short, just bring a camcorder.

Step 8: Back to mom. My cell phone battery died so I sadly did not get this on tape. About .2 seconds AFTER my phone gave me the hell no came the classic cars and my mom in RARE form. Here’s a snippet of the conversation (well, monologue really)

Mom: That’s not a mustang, I don’t know why Ford even allowed that car to be made. Will, do you see that? THAT is not a car. Now THAT, that’s a chevelle. THAT’s a car. I almost wrecked one of those drag racing on the boulevard. Yeah, woo hoo (yelling at drivers) THAT’s an engine, rev that up!!! No, keep driving, no one cares about that car, it shouldn’t be in the parade, (back to the drivers) that’s right I LOVE IT!! WHOO HOOO. They don’t make cars like that anymore. THAT’s a car, not that stupid mess they drive now, just LOOK at that. Brianne? Did your camera die? You have GOT to be filming this for your sister. 

Did I mention my mom is AWESOME?

Step 9: Get OUT of there. No really, you vaguely remember from the scout meeting where they discussed this (you were only half listening because your troop decided to skip this year) that they are like 115 floats and you’ve been sitting on a cold curb for over an hour, the kids are whining, you have forgotten your wallet and even though you are sitting on the curb in FRONT of the coffee shop you can’t buy a damn thing and THERE is Santa, yes kids, get up, these city folks who came to town to watch do not know that Santa is code for leave.  Run. If we make it to the car we might beat the train.

Step 10: End of the World beer.  Noticed I forgot the countdown, didn’t you? I didn’t it just got it’s own step. We have 32 days. Shock Top is now making End of the World Beer. Party City is carrying End of the World Decor. They know. They all know. 

Drink up now while you still can...