I'm in need of a little caulk

Once upon a time in 1998, back when TV's didn't hang on walls and bib overalls were actually considered fashionable pregnancy apparel, my husband and my pregnant-with-kid-#2-self moved into our current house. It was a brand new house, meaning no one else's ass had been on a toilet, leftovers hadn't rotted in the fridge and everything was shiny and new, including the caulk.

Now, three kids and a few pets later, certain components of the house have suffered wear and tear and despite my hyper anal-retentive tendencies and obsession with scrubbing tight spaces with a toothbrush, disgustingly colored stuff has grown in itty bitty corners and, well, the caulk has eroded which has led to moisture in areas of the house that aren't supposed to get moist.

And yes, you're correct: "moist" is probably the grossest word in the English language. Because even if it's used in reference to the weather or a piece of cake, the only thing anyone ever thinks about it when they hear it is best described as GUTTER BRAIN!

After I discovered the unwanted moisture, I realized that I needed to call someone to inquire about their caulk services. It felt weird, talking to a guy about how much he charged for caulk. Then he asked what color caulk I wanted. I said, "Well, white caulk I guess. And there's also a crack that will require some extra attention and definitely some caulk." Then there was an awkward pause, followed by him asking "So, what is your schedule like?"

Seriously, you guys, I WAS DYING! I mean, is it possible for a homeowner to ever approach this type of home maintenance or walk through Lowe's without totally snort laughing every time someone asks what kind of caulk they're looking for? Apparently, it isn't.

After a MM Facebook post that said "You know you're an immature homeowner who's jammed out a few kids when you hear 'someone is coming over to do some caulk work' and pretty much can't stop laughing, which makes you pee your pants a little," Christal, a reader/friend, sent me a message about her personal experiences with the humor of caulk. Apparently, her husband insists on asking the female employees at Home Depot where the caulk is, if it's white or tan, which kind is better, etc., while Christal stands there with a straight face, which is pretty much impossible because CAULK IS FUNNY! For example, she said there was a time she was at WalMart buying bread and caulk (this purchase, by itself, made me laugh) and the cashier was putting the items in two separate bags. She said dude, just throw them in the same bag and the cashier was all "no I don't want to get caulk all over your bread." She of course started laughing out of control and he just stood there and stared at her because apparently some people have no sense of humor because WHEN IS CAULK EVER NOT FUNNY? NEVER!

So, I of course told her that her story was super funny which started the following (potentially offensive but I don't give a shit) thread:

Me: Nothing ruins a sandwich faster than when you get caulk on your bread. And, as I'm typing, there's a guy in my bathroom with his ass in the air, getting caulk all over my shower.

Christal: What color caulk is it? lol

Me: He's a subcontractor working in the suburbs who is handy around the house, so obviously white caulk. haha And the caulk can't get wet for, like, 12 hours.

Christal: AHAHAHA Is it only shower caulk or is it the kind of caulk you can put in a window? Does it stretch? Can you paint it? Can we get a picture of the man smearing caulk in your shower? I'm getting a headache.

Me: Just the shower kind. We like to keep our caulk out of public view. Smearing... DYING! This joke WILL NEVER GET OLD! 

Christal: I've never seen black caulk. ?? I'm scared to google it. ... oh! They have it! I'll have to tell my husband!

Me: It must come in extra long tubes.

Christal: heheheheheAAAHAHA They even have pink caulk! "I need a little pink caulk..."

And then our awesome conversation ended because my repair fella came down the stairs and asked me if I needed caulk anywhere else, like in the kitchen.

Something for you to make in your kitchen

Okay, hello, yes I'm writing something longer than 140 characters and in a box that doesn't say "What's on your mind." And it's a Friday night, and I'm not writing this on my phone which means that I'm not at a bar. In addition, before I decided to sit down and tap this sucker out, my youngest kid A) kept herself occupied for 15 whole minutes while I had a conversation with another adult, B) came home and emptied her backpack without being told, C) asked for a snack of vegetables, and D) ate a ginormous dinner, which consisted of more vegetables.

Hell may have frozen over, people.

It's the last item on that list that prompted the writing of a post... AND IT'S A POST ABOUT COOKING!

Seriously, Satan. Are you familiar with The North Face?

Things are pretty much the same in Mean Mom world: kids, dog, drinking, husband, driving, two new pet fish, nagging, cooking, drinking, blah blah blah. No one really ever needs to hear about the monotonous world of a domesticated suburbanite.

And since things are still the same, you won't be surprised to know that all three kids are playing in a tennis tournament this weekend and have matches bright and early at 8am tomorrow. This is handy because now I don't have to pack a cooler with booze to be inconspicuously consumed at a park and instead am able to be a loud and obnoxious drinker at home, and also because it gives me the time to prepare a delicious, carb and protein filled pre-tournament dinner for my family.

Fuck, I kind of wish there was a Friday evening tennis match.

Since I try not to over think anything and prefer to not make my kids superstitious (I won my match because you made me grilled cheese/I lost my match because you made that weird meat that made me shit my pants), I try to vary the pre-tournament meals. But after tonight, I think I may have found something that I'll make before every tournament. Seriously, you guys, EVERYONE ATE IT! AND IT'S SUPER EASY! AND THERE'S A CRAP TON OF LEFTOVERS! AND IT DOESN'T USE FANCY COOKING TERMS!

So, here's the recipe. Since I'm not a fan of plagiarism or even stealing other people's Facebook posts and pawning them off as my own, I have rewritten the recipe in my own words. Simple words, not foodie words. And I have not included a picture of the results, elegantly plated and surrounded by flowers because here's the thing: when you prepare a meal like this one, you put it a big, unattractive scoop of it on a clean plate, butter some bread kind of globbishly, pick up a fork... and eat, pausing occasionally to take a gulp of your cocktail and wipe the corner of your mouth with your paper napkin.

NOODLY CHICKEN POT PIE

a box of penne pasta

a handful of skinny green beans

3-4 tablespoons of butter

1 smallish onion

a stalk of celery

a couple carrots, peeled

1/4 cup flour

2 cups chicken broth (or, ya know, a can)

2 cups cooked chicken (or, ya know, a couple handfuls that you've ripped off of a rotisserie bird)

Stuff for making cocktails

Chop the beans into 1 inch pieces. Chop the onion pretty small, the celery not as small, and dice the carrots. Now that you are done cutting stuff, make a cocktail.

Cook the noodles. Three minutes before the noodles are done, throw in the beans. This can be done while you're cooking the...

butter in a big pan. When the butter is melted, toss in the onion, celery and carrots. I also threw in a couple handfuls of sliced mushrooms because my family likes mushrooms. But if your family hates mushrooms, well then skip that step. After a few minutes of sizzling sounds, stir in the flour. After a minute or so, stir in the chicken broth kind of slowishly. When it gets all bubbly, turn the heat to medium and let it bubble for a few minutes. It'll be kinda thick. Stir in the chicken and some pepper and salt. Now that you are done boiling stuff, make another cocktail.

After the noodles and beans timer goes off, drain and add it to the veggie/chicken pan. Stir it all together. Tell your family that it's time to eat.

And I shit you not, your kids will love it.

Innocence not-so-Lost

It's a well known fact that I hate dust. And dirt. And lint. And grime. And sticky spots. And sticky spots that have collected little bits of dust. So chances are that if you were to burst through my front door on any given day at a completely random time, it's pretty likely that you'd find me with a can of Pledge in my hand, possibly even crawling on the super dangerous open ledge located in our two-story entry that seems to be a DUST MAGNET! You know, the ledge that if I were to slip and fall off of and come crashing down to the ceramic tile underneath, the children are instructed to suppress their laughter just long enough to call 9-1-1.

Every other day as I'm buffing finger smudges off of the piano and dusting picture frames, I find myself glancing at these pictures of when my boys were younger and sometimes thinking "where did those days go?" or, more accurately, "when exactly did they start incorporating 'freaking' and 'crap' and 'moron' into their vocabularies on such a regular basis?"

At least I still have Zoe. Sweet, innocent, harmless little 7-year-old Zoe. True, she prefers Spider Man to Barbies and Nerf guns to tea parties, but she still loves to give me a hug once in a while and still thinks I'm sort of smart and believes in every fictional, furry, overweight, sweetly retarded character associated with various holidays and childhood milestones.

So yesterday, as I was dusting the kids' bedrooms and throwing away various kleenexes and gum wrappers, I came across a stack of small handwritten notes in Zoe's bedroom. Since I am a firm believer in respecting my kids' privacy and not snooping unless the note is RIGHT THERE and the child has recently had the privilege of consuming a meal that I prepared for them, I read them.

The first note is a to-do list:

Um, and the what? And the who? What the hell kind of second grade is my kid going to? Why doesn't she know how to spell "beautiful" correctly?

After I picked Zoe up from school that afternoon, I told her to go upstairs and get ready for tennis and oh yeah, you know those notes that you left on your dresser? Why don't you bring them downstairs so we can talk about them. Suddenly, her half-Asian eyes took on a full-Caucasian appearance and her mouth dropped open as she ran up the stairs. She came back down, slammed the notes on the counter and again, took off up the stairs yelling "OOOOOH! MMMMMYYYYY! GAAAWWW!"

With a bowl of mac and cheese in front of her and me remaining completely calm and obviously open to any reasonable explanation, she told me that a boy in her class was at the boy's bathroom at the same time that a girl in her class was at the girl's bathroom, and when the boy came back to class he proclaimed that he and the girl "were just hanging out over there, sexin' it up and stuff." All of the kids laughed and Zoe immediately interpreted his statement as "So, cool, sex means they were together, near each other, hanging out, that sounds neat." She told me that yes, she did think AJ was a pretty nice kid and is glad that she is friends with him, but now that I've informed her that sex means THAT THE BOY HAS TO SEE THE GIRL NAKED, she plans on remaining "just friends" with all the boys. Like, forever. Her whole life.

Before you start leaving lectures/comments below about how I'm a horrible parent who's obviously not taking these issues seriously enough and how I should start planning my outfit and schedule that perm appointment for my episode of "16 and Pregnant," I'd like to share with you what was on the back of the sex note:

Yes, that's right. The most exciting thing for her wasn't dressing up beautiful or sexin' it up with AJ, it was the fact that she had lost a tooth that morning, which means that some geriatric chick carrying a sack of change was going to break into our home in the middle of the night and steal her stinky baby tooth.

And you know what every visit from the Tooth Fairy requires: a handwritten note.

Good Thing I'm Irish

Average number of emails I receive from my husband: 4

Emails that are about something serious: 0

Emails that include a picture titled "Korean Pregnancy Test": this one

Minutes I laughed: several dozen