Vengeance Is Mine!

Our house has a tendency to get quite warm when we are entertaining. The main floor of our split-level home has an open floor plan with the living room, dining room, and kitchen all adjoining. Once I begin cooking, the place heats up very quickly. That being said, I make sure to keep the house pretty cool during the earlier part of the day, before guests arrive and the oven gets turned on.

Easter Sunday, as I was spot cleaning the bathrooms, I reminded Mr. Schmitty about the temperature issue. I'm not sure exactly WHY I needed to remind him, he does live here too, but considering the fact that he is male, I always find the need to cover my bases.

I then began to get myself ready for the festivities. I showered, dried my hair, and applied some make-up. I began to sweat. Heat radiated from the middle of my back and throughout my body. I suffer from PMDD and PCOS so I get hot flashes periodically, but THIS was definitely more than my wacky hormones.

I looked at the thermostat, it had been turned up a few degrees. "You've got to be kidding me," I thought and then I yelled, "WHO.TURNED.UP.THE.DAMNED.HEAT?!"

"I did, I'm cold!" replied Mr. Schmitty.

GRRRRRRRR!

"I specifically asked you NOT to. I have to cook and you know how hot this house gets when we have company!! I'm going to sweat my ass off!!"

blink. blink.

He just stared at me and then continued on his way.

Okay, if that's the way he wants it. I'll just bide my time. I can wait, buddy.

About thirty minutes later Mr. Schmitty took his turn in the shower. I listened outside of the door for the curtain to be pulled over. I unlocked the door with my fingernail, crept into the bathroom, grabbed his towel, and all of his clothes. I placed a small washcloth on the sink. It was designed with a cartoon image of a dinosaur.

I then flushed the toilet and ran out, closing the door behind me.

"UUUUUUGGGGHHH!" I heard him cry as he got blasted with cold water.

I then placed his clothing in front of the window in the next room, making sure the shade was rolled all the way up. He'd just have to use that cute little dinosaur to cover the family jewels.

I then went into the laundry room, which is right next to the downstairs bathroom, and put on a load.

More moans and groans from the shower as he was once again assaulted with an icy spray. I thought of George Costanza and shrinkage. BWAAAAHHHAAAA!

Then I waited. I should have made popcorn.

I heard the water turn off. Then I heard mumbling and the sound of the hairdryer. He was drying his body!!! I couldn't contain myself.

"Are you warm enough NOW?" I inquired through fits of laughter. I believe I was cackling at this point.

After about ten minutes, the hairdryer turned off, I again heard mumbling. He must have realized I had taken all of his clothes. I heard the door open, he peeked out and called to T. to get his clothes.

"NOPE!" My favorite child in the world told him.

My husband then noticed the front window. He smirked at me and I just glared back. He darted his naked arse back into the laundry room. He emerged wearing a pair of underwear.

DAMMIT! Where did they come from?!

He then crawled on the floor to retrieve the rest of his clothing at the front of the house while I laughed at his expense.

Ahhhh....I feel so much better now.

And They Call This A Family Show

Recently we were spending an afternoon relaxing in our living room. The kids were watching recorded episodes of America's Got Talent, while Mr. Schmitty read the paper, and I read my copy of "Sleep Is For The Weak".

Periodically, the boys would get excited over an act. They would tell me to look up from my book and watch. R. just sat cuddled up next to me, quietly enjoying the performances.

At one point something intrigued her enough that she sprang up from my side. She squealed, "OOOOHHHH Mommy, what's she doing?"

I glanced at the television and saw this:



"I'm not sure honey, ask daddy."

I pretended to go back to my reading. As I glanced over the top of the book, I peered at my husband.

"Daddy, Daddy?! What's that lady doing?"

Mr. Schmitty, lost in his own world, snapped to attention and practically shouted at the poor child.

"Never mind, go read a book!"

Forget The Zohan....You Don't Mess With Mrs. Schmitty!

I had a meeting with the kids on the first day of summer vacation. I told them they were still going to take care of the few chores they had. Daily. Not just when they felt like doing them. They all have their lists of chores and things they need to do, like brush their teeth and hair, get dressed, etc. You know, the things that they have been doing like, forever. The things I, for some reason, need to remind them to do. Daily. Next thing you know I'll be reminding them to breathe.

They are to do all of these things BEFORE friends come over or video games are played. I think that's fair because once fun time begins, well, forget about anything being accomplished.

This morning I found them, in pajamas, rooms a mess, playing Wii. W. was asking if friends could come over. ARE YA KIDDING ME?!

It's only been 3 days since the meeting.

"T., get dressed, please." "T., GET DRESSED!" "HELLLLLOOOOOOO?!" He then began his recent habit of arguing with me. I threatened soap on the tongue.

I told W. to turn off the Wii and clean the pig sty he called a room. He continued to set up a game. "Don't start that game!" I said. He started the game. UUUUUUUUUGH!

I turned off the tv and game console. I started freaking out on them. I think I was justified.

I came downstairs, steam coming out of my ears.

Mr. Schmitty says to me, "When I get back from W.'s church camp meeting, why don't you go back to sleep."

HUH? "Everyone around here ignores me so I flip out. Then YOU tell me I need more sleep?! That's why I flipped?! Are you serious?!

He knew he was doomed. It was almost as bad as the time he excused my justified yelling for PMS. NEVER.EVER.EVER tell a woman, "that's okay, honey, I know you are just PMSing." NEVER.

I told him to go away before I smacked him with the laundry basket I was holding. Any of you that read my blog regularly, know, I may not be able to kick his butt physically, BUT, I will triumph in my own sneaky way. I'm vindictive that way.

I waited for him to get in the shower. I walked in, flushed the toilet and then proceed to pour a glass of, from our cooler, ice cold water over the top of the shower curtain. He was scorched and then I dowsed the burn...'cause I'm thoughtful that way.

"Smell it, smell it, smell it, now take it!"

In Touch With Their Feminine Sides

The Schmitty Kids love to play dress up. Most of the dress up clothes in our house happen to be Disney Princess gowns. I've gotten a lot of hand-me downs from friends so there is a good variety of sizes. Sizes that fit my boys, much to Mr. Schmitty's chagrin.

My boys have NO PROBLEM dressing up in frilly frocks to antagonize their father. The more Mr. Schmitty sweats the more they find it amusing. He rolls his eyes, they curtsy. He moans, they twirl like ballerinas.

Today Gertrude (W.) and Matilda (T.) were dressed to the nines. I told them that as long as they were dressed like that, I would refer to them as Gertrude and Matilda only. They giggled and ran off to find their little sister, who I refer to as Dororella because she was wearing Cinderella's gown and Dorothy's ruby red slippers.

Matilda ran back into the kitchen and told me that he had caught his hem on a basket. I took a look and saw that the ribbon had pulled all around the bottom of the skirt. I took out a big pair of scissors to cut off the torn fabric before clumsy fell over it. Graceful, he is not.

As I was reaching up under the tulle he said, "Careful mom, you don't want to cut something else off by accident!"

I responded, "From the get-ups you two are wearing, I seem to think they've already fallen off!"

Oh I Forgive, I Just Never Forget

Remember last summer when Mr. Schmitty and I had a sort of tit-for-tat war going on? It all started with this post.

My throat still hasn't quite recovered from the Janet Leigh Psychoish scream I let out when Mr. Schmitty tried to liposuction my butt with the vacuum. That's when things got ugly. It was on!

Since then I periodically lay little traps for him, just to remind him that I am a vengeful, vindictive woman who will not rest until I bring him to his knees.

One of my evil plans is to have the guys he works with brought in to help me. Unbeknown to them, they will simply be my pawns in this ongoing game of ours.

Every so often when Mr. Schmitty leaves his cell phone lying around, completely unguarded, I change his ringtone. Big deal, you say? My dear hubby works in a field that has some pretty masculine, man's man type of guys employed. Well, imagine his displeasure to have his cell phone ring, just as a meeting is starting, and all you hear in the room is, "If you like Pina Coladas, getting caught in the rain....!" or maybe, "I'm lookin' for some Hot Stuff baby this evenin', I need Hot Stuff baby tonight!"

Muuuuuuaaaahhhhhaaaaaa!

I can just imagine the heads spinning around, the eyes glaring at him, eye brows arched. I feel his blood pressure rising, his heart pounding, and the sweat dripping down his face. The comments and jokes begin to fly. He knows it's me immediately and he's plotting his revenge.

It just hasn't happened yet. He has been so lucky and has caught it every single time when he has been alone. I'll just keep trying....I won't rest until my mission is complete.

The other day, much to my amusement, I overheard this conversation:

T.: "R., do you like peanuts or coladas?"

R.: "Peanuts, 'cause I don't know what a colada is."

T.: "Do you like the rain or the sun?"

R.: "Sun."

T.: "What's yoga?"

R.: "I don't know."

T.: "Do you have half a brain or a whole brain?"

R.: "Half."

The laughter from that answer was priceless. Thank goodness they didn't know the next line (Do you like making love at midnight?).

This just goes to show you, they know everything that goes on, even if you think they aren't listening!

Oh It's ON!

I was sitting at the computer today, trying desperately to think of something to write about. I also was trying to get my other blog written and pick a winner for the monthly contest, which will be posted later tonight! :D

I don't know why but my brain is in a complete fog today. I have this big void between my ears. I think my brain turned to mush during the night and leaked out of my right ear. I'm going to have to check with the dust bunnies under my bed and see if they've seen it.

I was stressing a bit because I couldn't concentrate on anything. I get really irritable when I can't function like that. Mr. Schmitty told me to jump in the shower and relax.

"Yea, that's what I'll do!" I thought to myself.

I crank up the hot water, I know it's summer but cold showers aren't for me. The air conditioner is blasting anyway. I jump in, pull the curtain, and I put my face in the spray of water. Mr. Schmitty decided to vacuum the playroom, which is right outside the downstairs bathroom, where I am "relaxing". Oh, how sweet of him!

Like I said, I've got my face in the hot water, eyes closed, mind far away.....aaaaahhhhhh AAAAAHHHHHH...WTF?!

Funny man decides to stick the hose to the vacuum on my bare buttock and scare the Bejeezus out of me. The sound of that air sucking on my cellulite was enough to scare even the most strong of heart. I know I'm probably a strong candidate for liposuction, but this is ridiculous!

"ARE.YOU.CRAZY?!" I screamed at him.

"What? I thought you would find it funny!" he replies. I can hear the muffled laughter from the other side of the curtain.

"Well, I didn't. Why don't you throw the hairdryer in here next time?"

That would be a side-splitter, huh?

I mean what was he thinking, that I would find THAT "relaxing"? The only thing it gave me, besides the black and blue mark I'm sure I'll have on my cheek later, is some great blog material. It didn't give me peace. It didn't give me serenity. It gave me a FREAKING HEART ATTACK!

So, my fellow bloggers, this war of ours has taken a very nasty turn. You would think after almost 15 years of marriage he would know better. I'm bringing out the big guns. He won't know what hit him. When he least expects it, it will be payback time.

Mr. Schmitty, YOU BETTER BRING IT!

Mr. Schmitty...A Closet Cross-Dresser?

Okay, he's really going to kill me for this one. But after his comment a few days ago, I owe him one!

Today I was a cleaning freak. My OCD kicked into overdrive. I cleaned and organized each and every closet and dresser in the Schmitty household. I got rid of old and/or stained clothing. I threw away two leaf bags full of McDonald's toys, papers, and junk. I did laundry, OH.DID.I.DO.LAUNDRY! I was a tornado!

I was in my bedroom going through the unmentionables drawer when R. strolled in.

"Whatcha doin' mama?"

"I'm getting rid of some old clothes."

"Why?"

"Because some don't fit anymore and some are old and need to go."

"Oh. Can I help?"

"Sure. See those clothes on the floor? Put them in that big bag for me."

"Okay!"

She gets to work loading the old, beat-up clothes into the bag. She picks up a black bra from the heap.

"Why are you throwing this out?"

"It's old and stretched out."

"But daddy likes black bras."

"Oh yea, he does, does he?"

"Yes, he likes to wear them!"

I raise and eyebrow. "Really? He does?"

"Uh-huh, he wears them to work!"

Does R. know something I don't? Has Mr. Schmitty secretly gone undercover at work? If so, I hope he gets a raise because I seriously can't picture this:

(Sorry honey, I just couldn't resist! Your daughter sure has an imagination!)

The "Talk" Is Inevitable!

Okay all, when is the proper age for the "talk"? When they begin asking questions? Or if they are pretty innocent and really don't ask anything, is there an age that a parent should ease into it?

W. is my first child, so I'm new to this area of parenting. I know it's only a matter of time before he catches on to something a classmate or friend says at school. He'll come home wondering what it all means. We've already had some close calls with this, this, and this.

Over the weekend Mr. Schmitty was watching Animal Planet. The kids really love animals and were watching along with him. He and I started talking, uninterrupted for once, as the kids were glued to the tv. We weren't paying attention to the program because, well, we were TALKING! A rarity in a house of three children.

Anyway, W. asks, "What's that?"

"Those are dolphins," Mr. Schmitty says as he continues our conversation.

Mr. Schmitty is really great at blurting out an answer to a question without really paying attention to what's actually going on. He'll just say something. It drives me crazy. He's not very observant, for example, a pink polka-doted elephant could be sitting in the living room and as long as it is out of Mr. Schmitty's direct line of sight to the tv screen, well, he'll never see it. It could even fart and he'd think it was the puppy.

Now, of course, moms are multi-taskers, I can continue the conversation, look at the tv, answer W., AND mop the floor, change a diaper, and chew gum, all at the same time. Mr. Schmitty trips when chewing gum.

SO, I blow a bubble, nod to Mr. Schmitty, look at the tv, and say, "This is yours sweetie."

"What do you want to know, buddy," Mr. Schmitty says as he turns his head from my direction.

"What's that dad?"

My husband's head stops and he glances up at me. The look in his eyes lets me know he is spewing curse words at me in his mind.

"Hey pal, you were watching the show, not me," I say with a grin.

He turns back to W., "That's an egg."

"I know what that is, but what are those other things swimming around that look like tadpoles?"

I cross my arms and grin wider, "Yea dad, what are they?"

"Just what you said, good thinking, they are tadpoles!"

What a wuss.

Shakin' It For Shrek!

I was lying down for a bit yesterday because my grass and tree allergies basically rendered me a sniveling, useless lump of a woman. After practically breaking down my bedroom door, R. jumped in my bed for a snuggle. God forbid mommy get any alone time, but she's a good one to snuggle with so I really didn't mind.

"Mama, what do fishies eat?"

As I said, I'm feeling lousy and not really up for 20 questions. I reply, "Fishy food."

"Oh. What do seahorsies eat?"

"Seashorsy food", I sniffle, sneeze, and blow my red, sore nose.

"Oh. Whaaaaaat dooooo, hmmmm, lions eat?"

"Little girls named R.", because you know I love to mess with my kid's minds and I really want to just close my eyes at this point.

"Oh, mama, you're so silly. Really, what do they eat?"

"They eat antelopes and stuff", I say, with a little cringe hoping she doesn't start wanting details.

She just looked at me for a moment and then yelled, "I LOVE cantaloupe too!"

Satisfied with the conversation, she cuddled up next to me in the bed. I closed my eyes and then heard something strange. It was the most annoying sound. I opened one eye and saw the new Shrek baby toy she had gotten from McDonald's. Have your kids gotten one yet? When you push the button it breaks wind and then giggles. It's face is even painted to look like it's squeaking one out. I thought it was funny when I first saw it but now it's grinding on my last nerve.

The whole Shrek The Third advertising campaign is nuts! Now, I love Shrek as much as anybody and I couldn't wait to take the kids to see the movie. But besides the gazillion commercials and toys, the face of Shrek, Donkey, and Puss In Boots is plastered everywhere. McDonalds has them on the Happy Meals, on glasses, on the milk jugs, and even the straws are green!

I went food shopping the other day and needed blinders for T. and R. because every aisle we entered was the same. "Mommy, can we get that cereal? Shrek is on it!" and "Mommy look I love those waffles because look, it's Donkey!" I was waiting to find Puss In Boots on a box of Tampax tampons!

R. started freaking out when I said no to buying Cheetos with Shrek's mug on them. They turn your tongue green when you eat them! THEY.TURN.YOUR.TONGUE.GREEN! I drew the line, because that just can't be healthy. And really, it's kind of gross.

She said she would do the booty dance for me if I bought them. R. has a little dance she does now that is hilarious. She shakes her butt back and forth slowly and squats up and down while doing it. I keep telling Mr. Schmitty I am going to buy her a stripper pole. Needless to say, he doesn't find it amusing. She and I settled on a kiss for a bag of Shrek M&M's, not to worry honey, nobody in town saw her shake her groove thang!

Wash That Cub Scout's Mouth Out With Soap!

Mr. Schmitty went with W. on a special trip for the cub scouts yesterday. The pack was invited to tour a Naval Ammunition Ship. We have a minivan so he volunteered to car pool some of the kids. Most of the parents went, however, one boy needed a ride and his mom asked if Mr. Schmitty would take him. Sure, of course he would.

Now I really don't know C. very well. He seems like a quiet, shy boy. But after Mr. Schmitty told me the conversations that were going on, I now know that it's the quiet ones you have to look out for!

The boys were watching "Happy Feet" in the van's DVD player. It came to a part where a boy and girl penguin, apparently ones that LIKED each other, came on the screen.

"Ooooooh, they love each other!" my ever so innocent, sweet W. says.

"Maybe they'll have sex!" replies the boy, C., who I thought was ever so innocent and sweet.

No reply from W., as I don't even think he knows what the word sex means.

"Maybe they'll say the C word!" adds C.

Still no reply from W. as Mr. Schmitty starts to squirm in the driver's seat. He's just about to open his mouth to change the subject when C. again says, "Maybe they'll say the C word!"

"No, Happy Feet is rated PG, they won't say crap." replies W.

Needless to say, C. went hysterical. He wasn't able to add to W.'s vocabulary for the rest of the trip because he couldn't stop laughing.

I think next time we'll leave the little one's car seats in the van so there won't be enough room for extra passengers!

So nice to meet you! (batting eyelashes)

The house across the street from us sold recently. The morning of closing a woman was standing outside taking down the sold sign. I was getting the kids in the car to take W. to school and the woman yells over to me, "You'll be having a new neighbor today!" I replied, "Oh, welcome, are you our new friend?" She shakes her head and says, "No, I sold the house. A young man, very nice will be doing some work first before he moves in."

Hmmmm. I think to myself.

"Does he have a family?" I ask coyly.

"I think he has a fiance, no children. Well, I have to go, have a nice day." she ends the conversation and walks away.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with this one!" I think to myself as I pull the van out of the driveway.

You see Mr. Schmitty and I love to bust on one another about the opposite sex. And pretty much everything else. We completely trust each other so I think that's why we have to much fun with it. We know the other will never stray. I tease him all the time when I see a pretty girl. "Go ahead honey, it's okay to look, just don't touch!" I will tell him. He gets very red in the face because he knows he was caught!

A new single, well technically anyway, young guy across the street, I had to spread the news! I called my friend down the street to fill her in. "Ooooooh", she giggles. We decided we needed to tell our husbands that we were going to be the new Desperate Housewives and we were going to bring him muffins! Then we would sit in my living room and look out the bow window drinking wine and drooling while he washed his car. We were hysterically laughing. Now, to call the husbands and let them know they had competition! Mr. Schmitty, of course, takes it well. I can always make him laugh.

When I see the new guy working on his house I always have to pass a comment. He came outside in a white tank top the other day and I ran passed Mr. Schmitty and said, "Move it buster, I got something to see!" It's all in fun, really, I haven't even see the guys face up close, he could be extremely fugly for all I know.

I had a chance the other night to reverse it on Mr. Schmitty. He and the neighborhood men were going to play poker, including the new guy, who was bringing his fiance. Mr. Schmitty decided to shower before he left because he had to get up early the next morning for work. I hear him in the bathroom and realize he is shaving. He never shaves on the weekend unless we have somewhere special to go. Here's my opportunity. I'm really good at keeping a straight face. He never can tell when I'm joking or serious.

"Why are you shaving?" I ask.

"I have work in the morning".

"Well, you know you'll have to shave again, so what's the point?"

"I don't know, what's the difference?"

"I think you are just hoping to sit next to the new girl".

He is laughing.

I'm not.

He's not so sure now.

"Oh, you can't be serious!"

"Well, you smell nice, you are clean shaven, and with me being so sick lately....."

"Oh cut it out!"

"I wouldn't blame you." Now sounding completely pathetic.

"I would never do that!"

I walk past him and smack him on the back of the head. "Oh for God's sake, don't you know me after 24 years?!"