Can You Vague That Up For Me?

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Archive for the category “the one I have”

How to tell that your child and his friends may have listened to Hamilton a few too many times.

Conversation overheard thanks to the wonders of Skype and broken headphones/mic rig.

Corwin: (also known as my son)  *playing some kind of elaborate Minecraft mod that allows players to be werewolves and vampires, and have spouses and children*

Corwin’s Friend: You procreated. What’s your kid’s name?

Corwin: Phillip. *pauses a beat* My son! Look at my son!

Corwin’s Friend: Is pride the word you’re looking for?

Corwin: No. There is so much more inside me now.

Corwin’s Friend: Careful, Phillip’s gonna be lunch for that vamp.

Corwin: As long as he doesn’t die in a senseless duel defending my nonexistent honor.


So…this happened.

My baby, Corwin, graduated from high school this year, and we just had his graduation party. One of my SILs made his cake and suggested that Corwin come up with the artwork instead of going with something generic.

Behold…my favorite graduation cake ever!



See? Looks just like him.


My kid is kind of a jerk. A hilarious, hilarious jerk.

I feel like the story I’m about to tell you is some kind of karmic retribution for inadvertently terrifying Jenny Trout’s young daughter last Christmas. I was told by a reliable source (Jen’s cousin D-Rock) that Jen’s daughter, Wednesday, would be gone the day I wanted to fire the latest salvo in my and Jen’s ongoing Weeping Angel War. My reliable source was not at all reliable and I ended up scaring a six year old child with the weeping angel tree topper I’d arranged for Jen’s tree instead of Jen.

So, back to my kid. Killian, lovely child that she is, likes to send me random texts.  Sometimes, it’s creepy birds that have been photoshopped with human arms in place of their wings. Sometimes it’s this creepy dog over and over and over.


I’m minding my own business and BAM creepy dog text message or g-chat message or email. Over and over and over this damn dog shows up.

Last week, Wednesday, I was getting ready to go see the lovely Kayleigh Jones, and I stumbled downstairs at 7am to discover that Killian was still awake and on her computer skyping with someone. I opened up the medicine cabinet and screamed because this was in there and it startled me.

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Cue wild, maniacally giggling from my child. I stalked out to the living room and opened my computer to find this:


may have called her a “little shit” which only set off more maniacal giggling. Then, I looked at my phone. Now…I have no idea whose number this is. None.


I brought the phone to Killian and demanded to know who the hell was sending me creepy dog messages at nearly 2am. This resulted in gales of unbridled laughter and tears from laughing so hard. I may have threatened to stab whoever it was in the face. The person Killian was skyping with may have heard me and may have asked to see the knife I was planning on harming him/her/them with. I may have complied.


What…? Creepy dog makes me crabby.

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So Killian decides that it’s probably time to go to bed, you know…being after 8am and all. So she comes out to the living room to give me a hug, and I reach out to hug her, and I spot this on the archway between the living room and dining room.


may have called her other, various unfortunate names. This only made her laugh harder. I’m pretty sure she giggled herself to sleep that day.

So, I finished getting ready to go see Kayleigh, and I found this on my steering wheel.

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Then I reached into my purse and found this:


Later, when I got home, I found this:

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I thought that was the end of it. I really did. In fact, she promised that there were no more creepy dog pictures for me to find.

She lied.

On Christmas morning, I stuck my hand in a gift bag and pulled this out.


I could not stop laughing. There were tears. So many tears. Then she told me to turn it over.


This is the kid I have, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything. She’s freaking fantastic – creepy dog and all.

Riding in Cars with Boys – Part Twenty-Two

There are some days that there isn’t nearly enough caffeine in the world for me to deal with my son Corwin’s relentless morning person personality.

Today is one of those days.

Me: *guzzles coffee and drives in bleary silence toward the school*

Corwin: Speaking of dick jokes…

Me: *blinks*

Me: *blinks some more*

Me: But…we weren’t…

Corwin: We are now!


This is the one I have.




There are days…

I love my children more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone, but holy hell, some days all I can do is blink. And then get another cup of coffee. I also need to preface this exchange by saying that this kid is so incredibly smart, but some days, the lack of common sense drives me batty. I thought once they hit high school this stuff wouldn’t be an issue.

Spoiler Alert: I was wrong.

Me: Corwin, did you ever throw your clothes from your overnight down the laundry chute?

Corwin: I did that already.

Me: Okay, go get your suit and towel because I don’t have time to wash it before we go to Sarah’s today. (Full disclosure – they were dry when he came home from the overnight and he’d only worn it once.)

Corwin: Are we going somewhere today?

Me: Yes. To Sarah’s. I just told you that.

Corwin: Okay. *goes upstairs, presumably to look for his swimsuit*

Me: *stares after him and wonders when he’ll remember that the laundry chute leads to the basement, not his bedroom*

Corwin: *comes back downstairs* I can’t find it.

Me: I thought you told me that you threw it down the chute. Go check in the basement.

Corwin: *goes down the basement, immediately comes back upstairs* It’s in the laundry bin.

Me: *fights urge to repeatedly smash cupboard door into my forehead* I know. I told you that I didn’t have time to wash it. Bring it and your towel up.

Corwin: *goes back down, comes up with only the swimsuit* I can’t find my towel.

Me: Go. Look. Again.
Corwin: *returns with towel, blithely wanders away to continue drawing*

This is the one I have. I wouldn’t trade him ever, but there are days that just make me shake my head.

How is this possible?!

Today, my baby turns 16. Well, actually, he turned 16 at about 4:10 this morning. Today, I’ll be wandering out to pick up his favorite doughnuts, because he doesn’t like cake and ice cream. I know…he’s an odd one, but I love him anyway.

Happy 16th Birthday, Corwin!

A Conversation with the Husband

So I just got home from a couple writers’ group meetings. I walked into the house and the TV was on really loud.

I thought I was going to have to yell at one of the boys, but when I walked into the living room, it was Matt watching it.

The following conversation happened.

Me: What the hell?

Matt: I know it’s really loud but I’m trying to hear this movie. The music and special effects are really loud and the dialogue is really quiet.

Me: What are you watching?

Matt: (glances shiftily from side to side.)

Me: What? Am I going to judge you?

Matt: Probably.

Me: Seriously. What are you watching?

Matt: (looks sheepishly at me) Starship Troopers 3

Me: (staring dumbfoundedly for a moment) You’re right. I’m judging you. I’m judging you so hard.

Matt: I know.

Losing the last of my sanity…

So, I’m desperately packing to leave on my writers retreat vacation tomorrow and and also trying to desperately sort out the last of Killian’s financial aid stuff for college and desperately trying to make sure everyone has everything they need before I leave.

You may have noticed a theme here…

Anyway, I was talking to Killian while he was finishing up his thank you notes and I mentioned something about packing up my computer so I could work up north.

Killian: Wait, wait, wait.

Me: What?

Killian: You’re going on vacation.

Me: Right.

Killian: And you’re going to be writing?

Me: Yeah-huh.

Killian: That’s not a vacation! That’s just working in a different location.

Yep. That’s the one I have.

I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning, and I’ll at least try to post pics while I’m gone. 🙂

Yet another misread. With witnesses.

The other day I was taking Killian’s friend Torin home and we passed a sign.

I immediately turned the car around so I could read it again.

Torin: What’s going on? Did you forget something?

Me: I…um…need to see what that sign says.

Killian: (looking at Torin) Bet she read it wrong.

Yes, dear readers. I did read that sign wrong.

Killian: (reading aloud as we passed it again):Cash For Disabled Autos – Running or Not. (Smirking at me) What did you think it said?

Me: (muttering) Cash for Authors – Writing or Not.

Killian: Isn’t that a Freud thing? No wonder you needed to turn around and reread it.

Yep. That’s the one I have. 

Riding in Cars with Boys – Part Fourteen

Today on the way to school, we were discussing Halloween and costumes.

Corwin: I need a Russian accent for my costume.

Me: Beg your pardon?

Corwin: My costume needs a Russian accent. The guy is Russian.

Me: You realize they don’t come prepackaged, right?

Corwin: Duh, mother. I have to develop one. Why don’t we have an accent?

Me: We do. It’s called a midwestern accent.

Corwin: Well, I’d rather have an Irish accent or a Scottish one.

Me: You and me both.

Corwin: I wonder what the girls at school would think if I had an accent.

Me: They’d probably love it. Trust me – girls dig accents.

Corwin: Memo to me: must get accent, soon.

Yep…that’s the one I have.

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