Crisis!

A few nights ago, hubby called me in a panic. I was at a meeting, and he was home.

Kent: "BABE."

Me: "Yeah?" (I was slightly worried, I sensed the urgency in his voice ...)

Kent: "Where are those chocolate truffles?"

Me: "You mean the ones from two Christmases ago? Those are long gone."

Kent: "Darn it."

Me: "Why?"

Kent: "I need some chocolate, and we don't have any."

Me: "Are you going to be OK?"

Kent: "I guess."

So the next day, I went to World Market and surprised him with this:

Wonder how long this will last until we have another "chocolate crisis?"

See the bars with the bacon on them? There are pieces of real Applewood bacon in the dark chocolate. It's actually pretty darn good!

My mistake, you're not a serial killer after all

Recently, I was filling up our company Mercedes-Benz with gas in preparation for an airport transfer. I was standing at the pump waiting, when a guy in a black truck pulled up to the pump on the opposite side of mine. I quickly noticed that this wife-beater-wearing, inked-up guy was staring in my direction. Not just the normal quick-glance-to-see-who-is around-you, but long, hard stares.

I started to feel really uncomfortable. It was getting close to dark. I was alone. I left the pump briefly and grabbed my keys out of my purse on the passenger's seat, just in case I needed to push the panic button. Then he started to walk in my direction. My thumb was hovering over the panic button, ready to push at any second. But he kept walking and went inside to pay the cashier.

He came back (a little too quickly), staring my way the whole time. Then, when he was closest to me, he said, "That's a really nice car you have there."

"Oh," I said, "thanks!" and gave him a smile.

Then I felt REALLY foolish. He was staring at the CAR the whole time, not me.

Was I being paranoid? Probably.

Was I stereotyping this poor guy whose many tatts probably included an "I love Mom" tattoo? Perhaps.

I mean, you can't blame the guy, it IS a beautiful car ...

In fact, I get A LOT of compliments on this car. From drive-thru bank tellers to random people at gas stations who might also be serial killers. I always just smile and say "thanks," but I kind of WANT to say, "We only own it because it's a company car. We're not rich, just regular middle-class folks like you. Plus, we bought it used and got a really good deal on it." But I keep my mouth shut, because if I unloaded all of that on a stranger, they would surely look at me like I was crazy.

Nevertheless, I often feel that others are stereotyping me as a rich you-know-what when they see me driving this car. Just like I stereotyped the creepy guy at the gas station who ended up being nice. Hmmm, interesting!

"I want something to be wrong with me!"

Daisy's eye is almost completely healed, and we are so happy. After three additional trips back to the vet, more ointment and some inflammation medication, things are looking good. The multiple-times-a-day-treatments should cease completely by the end of the week ... whew! She is acting like her old, happy self again $500 later.

Leyla is just glad that Daisy is not getting as much extra attention anymore. Oooo, can you say jealous? Watching her get so jealous reminded me of a similar situation many years ago ... with humans, not animals.

When I was in fourth grade and my brother was in Kindergarten, we both had accidents at recess on the same day. I fell on the hardtop that made up the playground (when I had to go to school at Oak Park Mall for one year due to asbestos at my elementary school). I cut my knee open and had to get five stitches. My brother fell off the monkey bars while imitating the Gibbons that he had seen on his zoo fieldtrip that day and broke his arm.

Both my brother and I were propped up at home later that evening, and people were stopping by with balloons and Get Well cards, our parents were waiting on us hand and foot and everyone was showering us with attention. All of a sudden, my sister, who was five-years-old, started crying. Everyone turned to stare at her, and my mom said, "Honey, what's wrong?" And between sobs my sister said, "I ... I want something to ... to be wrong with mmmeeeeee!"

If Leyla could talk, I have no doubt that's what she would have said, too!

Cable Guys in Disguise

Time for another funny story. This one comes via my mom. She just recently moved into our former house that had been a rental house for the past 15+ years. She was super excited to finally get digital cable and a DVR for the first time ever. Not long after everything was hooked up, she started having problems. Her cable would go in and out, and then she would only get a blue screen. A guy came out once to fix it. Then one Friday, I tried to set her DVR for her to record some of her favorite shows, and while I was doing that the cable went out for another time. She called the cable company AGAIN, and they said they would send someone out the next morning at 10 a.m. to look at it.

At 9 a.m. the next morning, her doorbell rings. She opens the door to find two men with clipboards on her doorstep.

Mom: "Oh, you're early, great! Come on in!"

They take one small step inside.

Mom: "Thanks for coming out on a Saturday, I really appreciate it. The T.V.'s right over there." (motions to the T.V. a few yards away)

The two men hesitantly take a couple more small steps into the living room and stop.

Mom: "It's this T.V. right here. Yeah, I've really had a lot of problems with my cable, I sure hope you can fix it."

The two men still haven't moved more than three feet from the door, and my mom is now wondering, why aren't they going over to look at it?

Mom: "Um, you're with the cable company ... right?"

Man #1: "Um, no ma'am, we're with the local fire department, and we were hoping you would help us out today and sign our petition."

At this point, my mom bursts out laughing, and soon the hunky firemen are laughing, too (that's right, she said they were lookers). Then the second firemen chimes in:

"But you know, as firemen we've been known to fix lots of things, so we can take a look at your cable box if you'd like us to!"

... which just makes my mom laugh even harder.

They then proceeded to try and give their pitch as to why they were actually there, but failed miserably because they were laughing so hard. My mom was embarrassed, mainly because they were hunky firemen, but at least she gave them some entertainment on what was sure to be an otherwise very boring day for them. I wasn't there to verify their hunkiness, but I like to imagine that this is what they looked like ...

Naked!

Did that post title make you do a double-take?? Now that I have your undivided attention, I have a funny story. About my grandma. And I can tell it to you without worrying if she will be embarrassed, because she's never touched a computer in her life, and will certainly never visit my blog. Plus, I really don't think that she would mind me telling you anyway, because she is one of those great people who have no problem laughing at themselves.

So, my Grammy and my mom were grocery shopping in H.E.B. the other day. My mom was waiting her turn in line at the deli counter with several other shoppers. My Grammy walked about 20 or so feet away to pick up a bag of pita chips. (Please pause for a quick plug for Stacy's Pita Chips ... "They are delicious, try them today!" ~Jenna B.) She was debating on three different flavors ... Parmesan Garlic, Tuscan Herb and Simply Naked. She called over to my mom, "Sharon, which kind do you want?" My mom replied, "I don't care Mom, get whichever kind you want." My Grammy debated for a little while longer and then called back to my mom, "I think I'll just get naked." The deli workers behind the counter, all the shoppers waiting for their cold cuts and probably half of the store turned to stare at the 83-year-young grandma who just announced to them all that she was going to get naked. She then realized what she had said, and burst out laughing. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have been there!

And here's my pretty Grammy ...

It Never Hurts to Ask ...

“It never hurts to ask” has been one of my mantras for a long time. My theory is, "What's the worst that could happen?" And most of the time, the answer is simply that they will say no. Boy did it pay off to ask last night. Literally.

Hubby and I went to Kohl's to check out their selection of luggage. We have been "making do" with some falling apart, semi-working luggage for a while now. I really wanted new luggage before an upcoming trip on Sunday (details to follow in tomorrow's post), and hubby agreed that it was time. There was a BOGO sale going on, but even with that special, I was still a little taken aback by the prices. But we agreed that it was better to spend a little more for higher quality luggage that can take a beating, rather than replace it with average stuff every couple of years. So we pick out one medium and one small-sized suitcase and roll off to checkout.

As we are checking out, I notice some scratches on the backside of one of the handles. I mention this out loud to hubby, and the sales lady hears me as well. But by this point, he had already signed the receipt, so I don't expect her to offer a discount. She says that I can go pick out another one, and I tell her that it was the last one. She then says that we can take them to customer service in the back of the store, and they might be able to give us a discount, but who knows.

So we roll off to the back of the store. On the stroll back, hubby whispers to me, "You ask for a discount, I don't want to." Sticking to my mantra, I agree and we patiently wait in line. Correction ... I'm patiently waiting, but hubby on the other hand is playing with the non-damaged suitcase by spinning it around and around as fast as he can. He was very impressed with the four dual wheels that rotate 360 degrees (they are pretty nifty). He spins it a little too fast and it goes crashing to the ground, loud enough that the two people ahead of us in line turn around to see what the commotion is. I then whisper/hiss to him, "You are NOT helping our case here, they're going to think that we damaged it ourselves! OK, it's our turn."

Teeny Bopper Customer Service Girl: "Can I help you?"

Me: "Hi, we just purchased these suitcases and I noticed that this one is slightly damaged, and it's the last one. Is there anyway we can get a discount?"

Teeny Bopper Customer Service Girl: "Sure. But THEY could have done this for you up front." (shakes her head in disapproval)

Me: "Oh. They must just be lazy. You sure are working hard back here." (crossing my fingers that I'm scoring points with her)

She then starts the return and re-ring process, and it's taking a while, so I tell hubby that I'll be a few feet away looking at shoes. After all, I've just saved us some money, shouldn't I get to spend the savings on some new, cute fall shoes?

I'm still close enough that I can hear them conversing ...

Teeny Bopper Customer Service Girl: "So how much of a discount do you want? 10, 20%?

Hubby: "10% is fine." (My sweet hubby, not wanting to be greedy. I don't blame him, the scratch was barely visible, and you know it would have gotten scratched after it was thrown into the plane the first time anyway.)

Charming Customer Service Girl: "I'll give you 25% off."

Hubby: (Silence) "Uh. OK. Thanks!"

SAAAAWEEEET! Hubby then finds me in the shoe department and relays the conversation to me, adding, "I think she liked me!" I responded with "Awesome!" or something similar, and I guess he was hoping for some jealousy from me and was slightly bummed that I wasn't. I told him that teeny bopper customer service girls are welcome to flirt with him, as long as it means money in our pockets! Especially 25%, holy cow! I told him I'll be cashing in my shoe coupon at a later date. I expected 10% off, and we got 25% off, so I'm pretty sure that means an upgrade to Nine West!

Here's our nifty new Dockers luggage:

We then headed to Papa Murphy's Pizza to take a pizza pie home for a quick dinner. We recently discovered Papa Murphy's. If you haven't been to one before, it's the Subway of pizza joints. You basically build-your-own pizza and then take it home and bake it. It's delicious, and tastes fresher than delivery (and it's cheaper). We order The Cowboy which is a concoction of premium pepperoni, Italian sausage, fresh mushrooms, black olives and an herb & cheese blend. So good! It's usually $12.99 for a large, so we went to pay and they tell us the total is $8.50. Are we on a roll, or what?!? We didn't have to ask for that discount, but what a great way to end an already lucky night! Here's a stock photo to get your mouth watering:

So remember ... it never hurts to ask!