My Beloved Husband

So I make fun of him at times (all the time.) On occasion I rag on him (constantly.) I have even been known to close my eyes, bob my head and make the noise the adults in the Peanuts cartoons make (endlessly) when he is trying to bitch at me, I mean talk to me. Let me not leave out that when he is talking to me from the other room I respond "yes dear" while giving him the middle finger salute, I kid, I kid: Honey, if you are reading this- I NEVER do that. Really.

However, I really do love that man- as much as I threaten to hit him over the head with a HUGE frying pan one day (soon.) He is so sweet and loving. So I decided to tell you 3 things I love about him, so you don't think that I married him for his looks, because we all know the MAN is a DAMN FINE PIECE OF ASS.

1. He tries to keep the lights and noise to a minimum when he goes to work every morning (early) so Lulu and I can sleep as long as we like. He makes sure we are tucked in before he leaves.
2. On cold mornings, he runs the space heater in the bathroom, so that when I wake up and get in the shower the bathroom is nice and toasty.
3. He sincerely loves my butt, is enthralled by it, mesmerized- no mater HOW BIG it gets.

Ladies and gays- that is a GOOD man.

You may ask yourself, why does he LOVE her? Because- Mama let's him have his toys.
Mama also has a great insurance policy on him, since the man rides sans helmet.

The Hubs version of Drunken Debauchery night

That is what the Hubs started calling last week's GNO- Drunken Debauchery night.

So here is his version of the night.

He arrived home at 7:30 pm to find there was already 1 friend in the house and 1 bottle of wine open. He walked in with a bag of Publix fried chicken (his favorite thing in the whole world.) He said "hi" left the bags in the kitchen and went to hide in his room. His plan was to wait until everyone left, so he could then devour his said friend chicken in peace.

He grew angrier and angrier as time went by. He was starving and all he could here was more women arriving, more screaming and laughing, he says we laugh like this: QUA-QUA-QUA-QUA- shriek! Like a giant chicken, crossed with a goose, with a witches cackle. I can not disagree.

We finally left at 9:30. He had to pick one of the son's up from work at 11:30pm, so he decided it was pointless to go to bed, since I had said I would be home by midnight. Midnight came and went, and he of course was worried (he is fatalist.) He made a decision that he would NOT call or text me, so I could have fun on my GNO. So when we stumpled in at 2:00 am he was relieved, but had not slept a wink in his worry mode. He was not happy when 4 of us came back to the house, everyone needed a glass of water, to use the bathroom and get thier stories straight before they went home, I kid, I kid. He says there was more QUA-QUA-QUA'ing and doors opening and shutting over and over.

When I finally made it to bed, I promptly feel asleep, he claims I passed out. I say pish-posh. He then says later, he said to me: Move the dog, she is digging in to my back. To which my response was: ALERT!

Move the dog!- again FFC- ALERT!

Please just wiggle to dog over- FFC- ALERT!

He gave up. My question was, why did you wake me up to move the dog? Why didn't you roll over and move her yourself. he had no answer for that question.

At 4am, when he says he had not slept a wink he got up and asked where I had sleeping pills, he needed one.

My response- In the GPS.

He was frustrated and asked again- Not the GPS, where are your sleeping pills.

My response- OMG, in the GPS!

He tried a new approach and asked me in Spanish. To which he say's my response was very angry (I'm scarier in Spanish) - I ALREADY TOLD YOU IN THE &@^@^@!!* GPS!

At that point he gave up and I am assuming he fell asleep.

The hubs version of Girls Night out- ALERT! (don;t ask, I have no idea!)

Do the Robot

I have found the perfect dance instructor for the HUBS- as you can all imagine I am a DANCING QUEEN! He on the other hand tries all sorts of dances: salsa, merengue, free style and they all look like the ROBOT DANCE, unintentionally of course, except when he is trying to do the robot dance and then it SUPER ROBOTIC. Oh yeah, he wear a size 13 shoe and once stepped on me so hard my toe nail fell off!

I like this dance instructor, he has rhythm, grace and above all he has THE MOVES, plus I figure I can pay him in binkies and bottles!

English Mangler

English Mangler should be my new nickname for the HUBS.

Please LORD, never let him read or hear about this post.

The HUBS did not speak any English until the day his parents shipped him off to Military Academy in Marion, Alabama. Via Greyhound bus from his brother's place in Gainesville, Florida (he was a student at UF.) You want to hear his Greyhound stories about his travels though North Florida, Georgia and Alabama, but that's another post. He did not speak a LICK of English and resorted to nodding his head ALOT at the Military Academy.

If you ask him about his experience in Marion he will say: The whites hated the blacks, and the blacks hated the whites, the only one thing they could agree upon was that they ALL hated the 1 spic! This always cracks me up, well because imagining my husband at 17 not understanding a word of English, getting demerits left and right for not following directions (because perhaps he didn't understand the language?!) and having to march in the rain as punishment is evil and makes me laugh. Why? Because as the HUBS says all the time: I am an Evil Bitch, and he's right.

So long story short, English is obviously not his first language, he has a think accent and has trouble with his tenses to this very day. How think of an accent? Just the other day his client wrote the CEO of my HUBS company and very nice letter, saying the HUBS is awesome, amazing, wonderful and reminds him of the GREAT Ricardo Montalban! buawahaha, we rolled around laughing on the bed for a good ten minutes over that one. HE really is super cute, the HUBS, oh, and Ricardo Montalban was too. OMG, don't know who Ricardo Montalban is? The dude from Fantasy Island, Kahn from the Star Trek movies, the Grampa from Spy Kids, what are you 12?

Moving on, the HUBS loves, I mean is obsessed with American sayings. You know, like: Apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That sort of thing. So whenever he hears one, he memorizes it and just throws it into a random conversation (acting all proud of himself)

However, he is forever EFFING them up.

Examples:

The cat is out of the Hat! (no honey, the cat is out of the bag)

A bull in a Chinese shop! (what? you mean a bull in a china shop)

The ones he actually memorizes correctly, just sound weird. His favorite by far are the following, which he uses all the time:

not the sharpest tool in the shed
not the brightest crayon in the box
not the sharpest knife in the drawer
not the sharpest tack in the box

or

The lights are on but no one is home
Doesn't have both oars in the water
A few sandwiches short of a picnic basket
Not playing with a full deck
Not the brightest star in the constellation

Which in other words: HE LOVES saying how dumb people are! Sometimes I think he just says these things to hear himself say them, the opportunity has risen in the conversation, I don't think it is about the poor sap about which the conversation is about! I blame his boss who is a Southerner and every other sentence has some new saying for the HUBS to learn.

A REAL Alien

When the kids were younger, my husband had yet to become an American Citizen. Mostly because it was a pain and expensive, and we were lazy.

So he had what is called a "Green Card" on this card there was his picture and it said: Legal Alien Resident on the top of it.

The year Men in Black came out in the movies, the boys were obsessed with it. The had the video and watched it all the time.

That Christmas, we all went to visit my parents in Guatemala, this meant we had our passports and my husband had to bring his green card to get back in the States.

The usual drill when we are in Guatemala is dump the kids on my parents, go out and party with all our high school buds. Well, they must have been bored at Granma and Grampa's, and as usual the oldest came up with some mischief.

Upon our arrival at my parents house, the youngest did not want to come anywhere near his Father. Did'nt want to touch him, look at him, be in the same room with him.

Hours went by and he would'nt budge. He finally confesses to me the following:

I know Daddy is an Alien.

WOW! What do you say to that? Where the HELL did that come from?

Of course I laughed (which I probably shouldn't have since he was crying and looked scared shitless)- No he isn't! That's silly- I responded.

Alex (his older brother) said you would deny it. I know it's true. I saw the paper!

WHAT?!?-

The little bugger ran out the room and ran back with the HUBS green card in his hand.

HE pushed it in to my face- YOU SEE!!! A-L-I-E-N

That's when I rolled off the bed I was laughing so hard.

It finally took Grampa's word and explanation to convince my youngest son that his father was not one of these guys:

I mean really, if he was an Alien, he would defenitly be this GUY:

Lost, so lost

We are family addicted to LOST, and by family I mean, my sisters, their husbands, my nieces and nephews, my kids, and of course my Mom.

One of the funniest moments when she was in the hospital, came via Lost. Everyday we would cringe when she was not sure what day it was, what city she was in, thinking the male nurse was her friend form the University of Maryland in 1976, yeah, crazy ass confusion.

One afternoon I am visiting and I find a re-run of Lost on TV, knowing she loves it, I leave it on and start working on some reports for works while my Mom is watching. Suddenly she says "Ooooohhh, it's Penny" ssssssscheeeeeeech! WTF?! She knew exaclty who Penny was a goes on to tell me about Penny and Desmond, and her horrible father Charles Widemore. Yeah, that was CRAZY.

When we got her home to Guatemala, my sister brought over the boxed sets of Lost and we watched a couple of episode every night.

Every night she would ask- Who do you like better the Doctor or Sawyer? (only in Spanish so she would call him El Doctorsito) In Spanish you and an "ito" on the end of things to make them diminutive or a term of endearment. Amor become Amorsito, like baby talk.

Every night I would answer: That's a tough one Mom. I mean that's why I love Lost so much. One week Sayid is my favorite hottie, next week it's Jack, then I loved me some Mr. Echo, and sometimes I love Kim.

Mom interjects- Oh yes, very handsome Korean man.

I finish: but when it comes down to it Mom, I'm a sucker for the Bad boys....so I gotta to say Sawyer.

Mom says, me too, I like Lost, it's like a United Color of Benetton of good looking men!

I must agree EYE CANDY of all my favorite manly FLAVORS!

Books, real books, not on an eletronic thingy

I love books. I really do.

As I was lounging at my sister's beach house in Guatemala, my brother in law was enjoying his Christmas gift, a Kindle. He kept going on and on about how awesome it was. Finally, I shifted on the lounger and said "You're probably reading some techie shit on it!" He was. He laughed, I knew it probably involved Math and Business theory and God only knows what else. I happily lugged 2 books with me to Guatemala (Slam & You Suck!) both hilarious, and then read 2 of my Mom's books (History of a Face & The Bookseller of Kabul) both depressing, balanced diet people!

I explained to him why the Kindle so disturbs me. I love books. I love the way they smell and the different textures different papers have to them. I love writing my name in the front cover and reading the back cover, as well as the pages that list all the other books the author has written. I never fold a page over to hold my place, EVER. I am sure I would pull several strands of y hair and use them as a bookmark before I did that. I love how the pages yellow, how after you have read it a million times, the glue starts to give and pages come loose, so you read it one more time before the books falls apart. I love loaning out my books, even if months later when I want to re-read that particular book I can't even remember who I lent it to: Confederacy of Dunces, A Dirty Job...come back to me, I need you!

I then informed him that I only read fiction, no self help crap, of stuff that would help me at work or marketing nonsense! I read because I love to read, the way I love to watch TV, it entertains me. If if is Historical Fiction, well, then HELL maybe I will learn something.

Last night, my eldest son shows me two brand new books he had bought: Fight Club and Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. My reaction was: Why did you buy them new?! You can get them so cheap on Amazon!

His answer- I like to be the one to make the first crease on the front cover!

Wow, sounded like my rant! Of course, we do the same thing, we read a book we like by and author and then read everything he ever wrote.

I really love books, the have played such a giant part in my life.

I can hear my mother reading Where the Wild things are to me, remember begging her to read Madeline and Harold with the Purple Crayon.

I can feel the cold linoleum under my legs as I lay on the kitchen floor as my mother makes dinner reading Amelia Bedelia.

Giggling under my cover reading with a flashlight, just having to finish one more chapter of Tale of a Fourth Grade Nothing.

Crying for the first time reading a book, we were on a family vacation and was sitting in the back seat finishing Across Five April's.

Then there was A Catcher in the Rye, I just wanted to crawl in the book and live there.

By the time I was got my reading list for the first semester in College I had read ever single book on it, at least once (really 1984 was on the list!) Well, no worries as I did not make it to college, sidetracked into the shotgun wedding and the hubs and the now Fight Club book lover.

But, something better happened that year anyway. The Hubs "Ingles" was not all that, so I decided to start him on reading books in English before we move to the States to expand his vocab.

First assignment- Animal Farm- loved it. All out of my own collection- Of Mice and Men, Lord of the Flies, A Separate Peace, Brave New World, 1984, The Hobbit- loved them all. I hand over Kafka "The Metamorphosis", he's ready. Couple of hours later I hear- WTF!?!

He comes to me "I don't like this book. It's ridiculous. The guy is becoming a roach!" We go over symbolism. He gets it, reads the whole book that night and loved it.

My whole life I had taken for granted that someone sat and read to me, that someone bought books for me and gorgeous books marks, and spoke with me about those books and the meaning in them and that those books had made me far wiser than any 18 year old girl I knew. In fact wise enough to be able to get married and have a child and not go insane by 19. However, a safe sex book (with condoms as a bookmark) might have been a good book to have gotten me to, but oh, well.

Teaching your children to read is a necessity, if you don't do it, school will. Teaching you children to LOVE books, to think when they read, to be excited to get their little hands on a new book, that is a GIFT.

Thanks Mom!

look a like

To say that the HUBS looks like Kevin Dillon would be an understatement. Wait, looked like(a million years ago), now not so much. Back in the day, there was a little movie called Remote Control starring Kevin Dillon, the whole movie he ran around in a black leather biker jacket. The hubs had the exact same jacket. Last Sunday, he confessed while watching Entourage, that he came home late one night (wearing the jacket) and turned on the TV and stood there starring at the screen. He thought it was him and was wondering WTF he was doing on TV! It took him a minute to figure out what was going on.

I have to go home and look for a better (old) picture of my hubs, preferably in that leather jacket.

When I was pregnant, before anyone really knew I was pregnant and we were planning to elope, HBO would play this sappy movie called "Immediate Family" where you guessed it, Kevin Dillon (in the same jacket) knocks up his girlfriend. I used to watch this movie over and over and cry and cry and cry. My Mom would ask "What's wrong?' NOTHING *waaaaaaaaaaa* I would scream! Like pregnancy hormones aren't bad enough, imagine the same hormones in an 18 year old.

Well, in 3 days I will have been married to my little Kevin Dillon look a like for 19 years, you all can send me gifts for that too, I mean if you want to, but I am still waiting for those SHOES!