Five Blessings

The other day I was talking to my Mom about schools doing eLearning during this Quarantine and how hard it is on both teachers and parents. “UGH” My Mom said, “I could not IMAGINE trying to do eLearning with you kids. That would be an absolute NIGHTMARE!” Wow, I thought. A little rude, MOM, telling one of your children that your worst nightmare would be spending all day with them. I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE WERE YOUR FIVE BLESSINGS?! This is not the first time she’s said this since the quarantine started. We get it Mom, your five kids were lunatics.

After I was done taking in this insult, and pulling the knife out of my heart she so casually threw in there, I started to think about how hard it would be for my Mom to be with us ALL DAY. Then I stumbled upon a photo from Easter when I was a baby. Seeing this made me understand why this would be my mom’s nightmare:

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Four of the Five lunatics pictured here. You can see the desperation on my Mom’s face. “Hurry up and take the Picture, MIKE, so I can get away from these nutcases!” Let’s zoom in on my mom a little here:

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That poor, poor woman. This is the face of someone that is in dire need of an alcoholic drink. You can see she is trying to mentally detach from the chaos that this going on around her.

I don’t want to speak for all my siblings, but I’d say most of us weren’t the most studious kids around. After school we really had no interest in doing more school work. I was probably the worst offender on this. I hated sitting down to do school work and would do anything to get out of it. I had better things to do, like play outside or see how many suction cup hooks I could get to stay on my face as you can see from this photo here:

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“Mom! Look at how I can get these suction cups to stay on my face! Don’t I look like Frankenstein?” Was I off to a poetry reading or something next with that turtle neck I was wearing? Who knows.

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Working on my dunking skills here. 2004 Holy Redeemer 8th grade gold ball basketball champion right there. Ball was life back in the day.

I must say, the five of us were pretty creative in some of the things we would do. Our parents were late in the game in getting cable so we really had to entertain ourselves. One of our favorite things to do when we couldn’t play outside was rollerblade in our carpeted living room. Talk about a cardio workout! It was not easy to roll around on that carpet. This was an activity we could only do when my Dad was out of town-he didn’t really appreciate us rollerblading inside. My Mom didn’t really mind, she saw the carpeting as better padding when her clumsy children fell.

The four of us girls also used the living room as our stage to make music videos to our favorite NSYNC, Backstreet Boys or Britney Spears hits. We’d rehearse for a few hours and then give our parents the painstaking task of not only sitting through our show, but filming it for us so we could review it later in order to perfect our dance moves and play our dance in both slow and fast motion. (Jumping off the couch or a chair and doing a spin looked a lot cooler in slow motion). Classic youngest child Jane, having grow up watching MTV with her older siblings, chose, how should I put this, some pretty risque dance moves. She loved to replicate Britney Spears in her early “Baby One More Time” days. Jane even liked to take her show on the road, volunteering to perform at different graduation or family parties. My parents soon after put the kibosh on Jane watching MTV with her siblings.

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Here we see Jane practicing one of her more modest Britney Spears dances as I pretend to step on her. A fight later ensued.

Sadly, after we redid our living room, getting reupholstered furniture and replacing the rollerblading carpet with the “8 Million Dollar Carpet” as my Dad referred to it (and we now still call it, 20 years later), we could no longer roller blade in the living room. I still remember my dad’s lecture he gave us after our living room and dining room were redone. I think he just got the bill from the interior designer so his blood pressure was a little high and he was on edge. “Now listen!” My Dad said, as the five of us sat in the TV room. We could see the beads of sweat on his bald head and the panicked look in his eyes as he thought of all the money this new living room was costing him. “I don’t want ANY of you kids rollerblading in the living room anymore! We practically had to refinance the house after installing that 8 Million Dollar carpet Mom decided to pick out! And I don’t want ANY of you kids laying on the reupholstered couch in there either! The last thing I need is your dirty, greasy, gross bodies staining that fabric! Just stay out of the living room as much as possible!”

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The last known photo of us sitting on the couch before my parents used our college funds to redo the living room.

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The pre-upholstered couch days when we could sit in the living room. You can see the dirt and food on our clothing that we were passing on to that couch.

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Just playing in the living room with our new doll Jane. Jane provided a lot of entertainment for us when she was born. Jane learned from an early age to support her own head. We weren’t going to do  it for her.

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We were all very photogenic.

 

 

If we weren’t rollerblading we were using our parents bed as a trampoline. We had a nice system going where we would line up in my parent’s closet (in order to get a running start) and use the closet doorway to hold onto, lean back and catapult ourselves onto the bed, doing our best flips and somersaults mid-air. Why enroll in gymnastics class when you have a queen sized bed you can just run and jump on? Honestly can’t believe the Jesse White Tumblers didn’t recruit us, we were so good.

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Taking a break from our gymnastics to fake read on my parent’s bed/pose for a Christmas card photo. Check me out-baby genius right there fake reading a story to everyone.

After we tired ourselves out a bit we would all get out our backpacks and sit at the kitchen table to do a little homework. It was a little crammed, and fights would break out if you accidentally got your papers into someone else’s “area” but it was fun all being together, jamming out to some music as we worked away. My mom would be in the kitchen with us, getting dinner prepped and checking on us periodically, helping with various homework problems. As the years went on, and my Mom cared less and less, (both about our homework and dinner) the younger kids relied on the older kids to help them out with homework. This system worked pretty good until we got down to Jane. We were all pretty tired by the time Jane needed help on homework. She racked up quite a few pink slips for “not turning in homework.” Sorry Jane! She turned out ok though.

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A rare photo of me doing homework. Drinking a Hi-C Juice Box to help take the edge off that stressful Math homework.

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What a great looking family.

After homework and dinner we focused our attention on dessert. We NEVER let our parents forget about giving us some sort of dessert every night. If you acted up or didn’t do your chores my parents used “no dessert” as a punishment. Unfortunately for me, being born a “smart-ass” as my parents so affectionately termed me, I spent a lot of nights going without dessert because of my wisecracks and sarcastic remarks. My mouth got me in a lot of trouble. I just couldn’t help myself in getting the last word in. So many times instead of having dessert, I would be laying on the kitchen floor crying as my siblings sat at the table eating ice cream or cookies.

Some nights when the dessert supply was running low my Dad would “raffle off” the last cookie or scoop of ice cream, whatever it may have been. There would be a series of coin tosses between the five of us and the winner would get the dessert. Some times it would be a real nail biter on who would be the last person standing. Many times this caused a lot of fights, usually some tears, but it was very entertaining for my Dad.We were just reminiscing about it the other day and my Dad was laughing hysterically thinking about it:

Dad (laughing so hard tears were in his eyes): “I remember you five little brats would be like vultures all wanting the last Oreo. Certain kids (I’m not going to name any names) would be sore losers if they lost and go off crying after the last coin toss. [Dad continues laughing more] Ahh that was good.”
Me: “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been so cheap and just bought another pack of Oreos for us instead of starving your five children!”

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Here we are post Oreo raffle. As you can see from the Oreo remnants on my face, I was the winner of this raffle so I was very smitten.

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Looks like I won the Oreo, but lost my shoe on this time. I think I won dessert a few too many times as a toddler. It was my fat stage.

After us fatties got our fill of food, we finally settled down to go to bed. For some reason we found it soothing to fall asleep to various Disney movie soundtracks. Our favorite being “The Lion King.” Because what’s more relaxing than loud African music blasting in your bedroom-AHHHHHH ZENWENNAAAA BADA DEE SEE BABA (I have no idea what the actual African lyrics are to the opening of The Lion King but it sounded like that.) So we made our parents tuck us in and start the Lion King tape before they turned off the lights. Since I hated going to bed (I could never fall asleep) I would always try and delay my parents turning off the lights, asking various dumb questions to stop them. My parents favorite one of my questions that they still laugh about to this day is the time I asked them “What bones are made of.” Classic insomniac, doing anything to stop bedtime. Once we were finally all asleep, our parents finally got a much deserved and much needed break from us.

Looking back on all of this I have so much respect for my parents putting up with us every day. Sure, we were five blessings, but we were also five nutcases. Now I get why my Mom said she can’t imagine what parents are going through during this quarantine, and I can’t either. This quarantine has really made me appreciate not only my parents but all parents dealing with their own “blessings” at home. All I can say to parents out there is hang in there, be strong, and maybe buy an extra pack of Oreos.

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I’m literally climbing a mountain running away and my Mom and Dad (the one taking this picture) couldn’t care less.

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Looks like we were running out of furniture we were allowed to sit on so we had to share.

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I wonder if my Dad thought about leaving us in that forest

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Bridget and me playing with our real life doll Jane again. That was a damn good sucker and I enjoyed it very much.

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Why did I button my top button like a psychopath?

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Hood up, attitude out. I had no time for pictures.

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Back With The Baby Boomers

A couple of months ago I became ill which has required me to temporarily move back home with my parents. For those curious people out there, (because how annoying is it when someone says they were “sick” but gives no details-am I right?!) I developed a blood clot which led to a severe virus and other complications. But don’t worry, I was not NEARLY as sick as my sister Jane was that Christmas Eve back in 2016 when she contracted a mysterious and deathly illness…She was hungover but claimed she had every chronic illness in the books. Thank goodness after a lot of Gatorade and sleep she made a full recovery by Christmas morning-a true Christmas miracle.

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This portrait hangs in our upstairs hallway to commemorate the Christmas Eve Jane nearly died from a hangover.

My recovery has taken a little bit longer than Jane’s, but luckily after I was discharged from the hospital my old roommates/parents so graciously took me in. I’ve been staying here for the past couple of months recovering and hanging out with Mike and Mo, but the weeks have just flown by we’ve been so busy!

One of the things that has captured our attention and has been a hot topic of conversation between the three of us is the bird feeder in our yard. Mo Money loves her birds so my Dad placed a bird feeder on our side yard so it could be seen from our kitchen window. This decision has proven to be better than investing in Hulu, Apple TV or any sort of premium movie channels because we are all just GLUED to watching this bird feeder. The other day a hawk tried to get in on the action and stopped at the bird feeder for a little lunch. Things got intense. I thought I was about to witness the beginning of a Law and Order Bird Edition!

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The hawk about to murder Mo’s birds on the bird feeder. Please note: All Hawks are innocent until proven guilty by the court of law.

One day when I was laying on the couch I heard my Mom let out a disgusted/irritated groan from the kitchen. I knew right away that there must be a squirrel trying to get up on her bird feeder to eat her bird seed. There is NOTHING my mom hates more than squirrels. “UGH! Look at this big fat squirrel trying to get up on my bird feeder! GET AWAY SQUIRREL! SHOO!” She yelled angrily as she banged on the window trying to scare away the squirrel. “Wow, Mom. Why did you have to call the squirrel fat?” I replied. I thought she was going to take out a BB gun and start shooting at the squirrel she was so fired up.

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The Squirrel ran away crying after my mom fat shamed it.

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Check out that bad ass bird with the Mohawk. I bet he’s bringing the alcohol to the party at the bird feeder.

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And on tonight’s menu we have a red Bird Blend that pairs deliciously with worms.

Another thing that has kept me busy over my time recovering was helping the Baby Boomers with all their technology needs. When it comes to needing help with the TV, their phones, or computers, Mike and Mo don’t care if I’m on my death bed or not. Mike Sr’s favorite shows like Ice Road Truckers, Cabin Masters or Highway Through Hell cannot wait. My Mom likes to pretend she can wait for help, but actually wants things fixed immediately. “Sweetie, absolutely no rush on this, I know you have a bad headache, but when you’re feeling better do you mind looking at this notification that keeps popping up on my iPad?” My mom will say as she walks over to sit on the side of the couch where I’m laying and shoves her iPad in my face. “Here let me just show you what keeps happening when I turn it on. But you can fix it later!” The other day the three of us had a heated conversation about the Alexa:

Mom: Kathleen, honey, when you’re done resting can you just look at my iHome? I was trying to play my iPod the other day and the thing keeps beeping! I have no idea why!
Me: Mom, that’s because that thing is about 30 years old. No one uses iPods anymore! It’s not 2005! I specifically set up the Alexa and got you a Spotify account so you wouldn’t use that broken thing anymore! Then you went and put your old iHome right in front of the Alexa!
Dad: I personally HATE that stupid Alexa! Whenever I ask it questions about trains it never know the answer!
Mom: Can I play the Moody Blues and Steely Dan on Spotify?
Me: I mean, I wish you couldn’t, but yes, you can.
Dad (talking to Alexa): Hey Alexa! How much does a CSX Heavy Train weigh? See! She’s a dimwit! She has no idea!
Mom: Well, sweetie, one of these days I’m going to need you to give me a lesson on this Spotify thing.
Me: Well, we’ve had lessons before…
Mom: Next time, I’ll write them down!

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I set up the Alexa and Mo puts her ancient iPod thing right in front of it. Pierces my heart every time I see it.

As the weeks went by and I began to regain my strength, I was able to start making fun of my Dad again for all the weird chores he loves to do around the house, like emptying all the wastebaskets before garbage day, or raking. Mike Sr. LOVES raking. One time things got really tense when my Dad had discovered my Mom had emptied the wastebaskets the day before garbage day. I witnessed the whole ordeal from the couch. My Dad had the garbage bag in hand and headed upstairs to go through all the rooms, but a few seconds later came down looking sad and confused. “Maureen,” He said in a very serious tone. “Did you already empty the wastebaskets?” “OOOOOOOOhhhhhh Snnnnaaapppp!!!!!” I yelled from the couch. I thought a fight was about to break out. “Mom, everyone in this family knows emptying the wastebaskets is Dad’s thing. You NEVER take that joy away from him.” After a long talk all was forgiven. But I could tell my Dad was still sad so I tried to cheer him up. “It’s ok, Dad, cheer up! You know, I think I saw one leaf blow on to the grass earlier, why don’t you go out and rake the entire lawn now, that will keep you busy for a few hours.” “Oh Mo!” My Dad replied. “Isn’t our little smart ass feeling much better that she can make fun of me again!”

Here is the text conversation my Dad and I had last week when he was on a business trip in Iowa:

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ulemozJfVt94-aJSb2ZpeOHfCncdzJqm7jhi11eYzJLZFZV4D8sTC05c8xYydS-PNGv-GKnL_8lJhmwSgU4LTGodyjmJPqIE19C9TGwJwN3NHqeyPhlHrWaCD8H401t-9C5-QK9pK7cn7xUUkxVEMhYg4yy5UDPpgGopIW7_ef0alllZ6hyIwl1Alp5E31mmipn_1tMSCoXE855wx

Mike Sr., happy as can be after finding some leaves to rake in the street.

My Mom and Dad have been great caretakers, cooks and Uber drivers since I’ve been sick. I think my Dad has kept all the local bakeries in business trying to make me eat the highest calorie baked goods he can find:

Dad: Kathleen! You have not eaten that cookie I got you! I heard it yelling to you from the counter, (Said in his cookie voice) “Kathleen! You need to eat me! Eat me now!”
Me: Uggghh Dadddddddd!! It’s too much to eat! I can’t keep up with all the food you’re shoving in my face! I’m not hungry!
Dad: Oh, you little weakling! You need to bulk up in order to get over this illness! There’s Portillo’s Chocolate Cake in there for you too and you BETTER eat it! That will make you “Strong like Bull.”

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I do love my Dunkin’ Coffee

My mom has been a great Uber Driver. I feel like I’m in a luxurious UberBlack, rolling up to work getting dropped off in Mo Money’s Honda Mini Van with 16 cup holders, automatic sliding doors and plenty of leg room. Nothing cooler than being 28 and having your Mom drop you off at the school where you work, stepping out of the mini van with your backpack on, looking like a 12 year old, ready to be a business woman. I’d rate Mom’s Uber at 5 stars but honestly, she’s got a little road rage, always saying things like, “Oh yea, nice blinker, PAL!” (Emphasis on the pal but I have a feeling they aren’t really friends) or saying a sarcastic “Yea, you’re welcome, BUDDY!” after she lets someone in and they don’t give “the wave.” So I’m going to have to give her 4 stars.

As far as caretakers, they’ve been great. My only complaint would be that they don’t have any ice packs, so I’ve had to use bags of frozen vegetables for my bad headaches. The birds on the feeder think I look ridiculous, but it’s nice that those frozen vegetables that have been in our freezer since 1999 are finally getting some use.

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The headaches caused sensitivity to light and sound, but I was ready to be invited to a dinner party at a moment’s notice. Everyone loves a little side veggie with dinner.

I’m very fortunate to have such great parents to take me back in and help me get back to good health. I have so much to thank them for-not only have they constantly supported me and cared for me, but they’ve given me four amazing siblings who have always looked out for me since the day I was born. So thank you, Mike and Mo-for the entertainment, care, the Uber rides, coffees, and this awesome family. The road to recovery is much easier with these great people below…and your Honda Mini Van with 16 cup holders.

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Thanks to everyone here EXCEPT OWL whoo literally did nothing.

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This is the day back in the Fall when I hosted my family for brunch and realized I had no idea how to mince garlic.

 

 

 

 

School Days

Throughout this Fall, when scrolling through Instagram, I’ve seen a lot of people post “First Day of School Photos” of their kids. The kids are usually standing on the porch, looking all happy, neat and tidy in their school outfits, holding a cutsie little sign that says “Jack’s first day of Kindergarten” or something like that. While most people’s first thought when seeing photos like this is probably “Aww how cute!” But mine is always, “How the HECK do these parents have time in the morning before school to take these perfect photos of their kids?!” The “first day of school” photos we took on the porch when I was a kid looked nothing like the ones I have been seeing on Instagram. My family’s school photos back in the day seemed to be a little different, here are a few examples:

Exhibit A. My sister Bridget’s “first day of school photo” that apparently I decided to photo bomb. Clearly I was NOT happy that I was too young to go to school and therefore didn’t get my photo taken:

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Don’t be fooled by the hearts on my pink sweater, and the blankie I’m holding, I was ready to fight. Nobody puts baby in a corner, I wanted my own photo too.

Let’s zoom in a little on this one, shall we?

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You can see the look of betrayal on my face. How DARE my mom take a photo of my siblings and not me.

Exhibit B: My sister Maggie’s school photo:

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My Mom could have used a lesson in “staging” when it came to photography because all of these pictures have some homeless little girl in the background. Oh wait that’s me.

Exhibit C. I finally got my way and got to be in one:

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I was so happy my face hurt from smiling. Special thanks to my mom for giving me and Bridget those awful bangs, really helped make this photo even more awkward.

Growing up, we didn’t really have too much time to spare to set up a cute photo because, except for my dad, we weren’t really “morning people.” We all had an extremely difficult time getting out of bed before 7 in the morning. My mom I think had the most trouble though, with my youngest sibling, Jane, being a very close second. My Dad traveled for work during the week so my mom was usually a one woman show when it came to getting the five of us up and out the door for school every morning. We never had to set our own alarms because my mom would come in and gently wake us up. Our wonderful mom would slowly open our doors, walk over to our beds and place her hand on our backs and softly say “time to get up honey.” Sounds like a really nice way to wake up, right? And it was… BUT... that was only if you got up on the first wake up call. If you decided to get a few more minutes of shut-eye after being woken up, our sweet little Mom could do a complete 180 and somehow turn herself into a fire-breathing dragon. If one of us was still in bed while the others were downstairs eating breakfast she would stand at the bottom of the stairs and yell your name until you got up. I don’t know how she managed to change the pitch in her voice so it felt like she was sending nails into your ears when she called out your name the second time, but somehow she found a way. She only had to yell the sleepy kid’s name once or twice until they responded, yelling back down, “OH MY GOD I AM UP! I’M UP! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST STOP YELLING MY NAME I’LL BE DOWNSTAIRS IN A MINUTE!!!!” I still have permanent ear damage from the days I decided to snooze a little later.

Every once in a while my Dad would be in town during the week and let my mom sleep, so he would wake us up in the morning. There was never a problem with falling back asleep when my Dad woke us up due to adrenaline pumping through your veins after the near heart attack he inflicted on us when he swung open the door, stomped in, flung open the shades and said “GET UP!”

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Want to be sure your child gets kidnapped? Then you should definitely send her to preschool with her name on her shirt. Kidnappers love an easy target.

Once everyone was up we’d all be in the kitchen, eating breakfast and packing our lunches. The best breakfast days at our house were Wednesdays and Thursdays. Wednesday was “Donut Day” when we each got a delicious prepackaged, never fresh Entenmann’s Donut. Before you could dig in to your donut though my mom made us eat her famous homemade fruit salad (recipe: crack open a can of Madarin oranges, slice up a banana, divide evenly onto 5 paper plates and you are all set!) You couldn’t touch your donut until all your fruit had been eaten. Since their were 8 donuts in a package and five kids, on Thursday’s we would each get half a donut. But we’d still have to eat the whole fruit salad which, looking back, doesn’t seem fair. My Mom was a real health nut back then I guess. The other days of the week it was either cereal or toast. Sometimes my Dad would surprise us and get Reese’s Puffs cereal. So many fights broke out over Reese’s Puffs. I remember one Reese’s Puffs fight in the morning ended with my brother throwing the empty box across the kitchen. My parents were not happy about that fight and we all got in trouble. But in our defense, if they didn’t starve us by rationing one box of cereal, or giving us donut crumbs-I mean donut halves, maybe we wouldn’t be so hangry in the mornings.

After breakfast it was off to frantically search for the pieces of our school uniform and homework papers we had left scattered throughout the house the night before. Then it was back upstairs to brush our teeth. Jane, in classic youngest child fashion, would always be the slowest getting ready and she would usually be crying because she wanted to go back to bed. Jane preferred to chill out a little and watch “The Big Comfy Couch” before getting ready to go anywhere. Through Jane’s preschool and kindergarten years, the four of us had to help get her ready in the mornings. Getting Jane dressed and ready for school was much like getting a sand bag ready for school because she literally made no effort to help or do anything at all. She actually made it harder to get her dressed because she would never take her thumb out of her mouth.

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Me and Jane chilling on the couch. Even as an infant Jane liked to coast for a while before starting her day.

Every morning for her entire year of preschool she would be brushing her teeth at the sink while one of us did her hair and the other got her backpack together. After all those things were done we did manage to squeeze in a few school photos through the years.

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I think since I was missing my two front teeth and couldn’t really eat, Mo Money was able to use the time she might have spent feeding me breakfast to take this photo.

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Do I look uncomfortable (sitting on the right) because I’m wearing a back brace or because I’m practically sitting in a Home Depot Garden center with all those flowers around me, triggering my seasonal allergies? Who knows.

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My Mom is so efficient she was able to simultaneously get my brother to feed the dog and take a photo at the same time!

Things were just as hectic after school as they were in the mornings. The afternoons were filled with sports practices and games, orthodontist appointments, homework and piano practice. I absolutely HATED piano practice. Or I guess I should call it “keyboard practice” because we did not have the money or space for a real piano, so we had our lessons on a keyboard. (Our piano teacher shamed us ever week for it) On piano practice day I’d be laying on the living room floor about ten minutes before our piano teacher was due to arrive, begging my sister to do my piano homework that I had not done yet, even though I was given a whole week to do it. But, like I’ve always said, if you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute! (I had better things to do with my time, like play catch with Christmas candles in the living room, I had no time for piano homework) “Please Bridget!” I’d beg while laying on the floor, dreading my piano lesson. “I’ll do your dinner chore all week if you just do my piano workbook for me!” Spoiler alert: I cannot play piano or keyboard at all now, but I did learn great negotiating skills.

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Here’s me fake practicing piano so there could be photographic evidence for my mom that I did in fact, practice from time to time.

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Don’t be fooled by those medals, they gave them to everyone. Not only were we bad at soccer, we were bad at taking soccer photos.

So, we may not have Instagram worthy “first day of school photos” (they definitely would not get too many double taps if they were posted on the ‘gram) but they are good for a laugh. I’m glad my mom decided to capture a more “authentic” school photo of her nutty kids, not spending too much time trying to get the “perfect Instagram photo.”

So thank you Mom, for getting those photos, getting us off to school every morning, and most importantly, helping Bridget and me realize at an early age, that we can’t pull off bangs.

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Gotta love those awkward high school years.

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Even though I look like I belong in the 5th grade with my sister Jane on the right, I was actually in high school when this photo was taken.

Summer 2019

September 23rd marked the first official day of Fall. I seriously find that hard to believe because I feel like summer just started. Summer 2019 was a very eventful one for me, which is probably why it seemed to fly by. While it was a busy one filled with so many fun times, I was able to narrow it down to my top five highlights of the summer. So here, in no particular order, are my top five highlights of 2019:

1. We Solved the Case of the Missing Sock.

In early June, my Mom sent out a rather disturbing text to the girls in our family. Please see below:

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Yes, she had discovered a lone sock at our lake house in Michigan, and was trying to find its owner. I mean, Monday’s are stressful enough, so I could have gone without this very upsetting sock Amber Alert. Plus how sexist of you, MOM only sending it to the girls in our family just because it had a little pink on it! Boys can wear pink too, it’s 2019! Classic Baby Boomer. I tried to remain calm though, and sent my reply:
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As the replies kept coming in, no one claimed ownership. I felt bad for the orphan sock, I mean it looked like a great quality sock. It was no gold-toe sock, but it had nice coloring, and it looked to have a cushioned sole for ultra comfort and arched elastic for extra support. While I felt bad that the sock was all alone, I was able to go about my day and soon forgot about the sock all together. This was not the case for my mom.

A couple of weeks later I stopped at my parents house after work to find the sock (all washed and cleaned, thank goodness) front and center on the kitchen counter.

“Mom!” I said, half laughing. “You brought the sock home from Michigan?!”
“Yes, I did,” She replied, her eyes fixed on the sock in a perplexed gaze, “I just can’t seem to figure out who’s sock it is! It is just such a mystery!”

I honestly did not think it was that big of a mystery, and I really didn’t care about finding the owner of the sock because socks go missing all the time. But my mom was so determined I tried to help solve the case and come up with suspects of who it could be.

“Maybe it’s Aunt Maribeth’s sock?” I suggested “Hasn’t she been up at the lake with you a few times?” My Mom scoffed, as if I had just made the dumbest suggestion she had ever heard in her life. “No, no no.” She confidently said. “That is DEFINITELY NOT an Aunt Maribeth sock. It must be someone else’s.” Wow, did I feel foolish. My Aunt Maribeth is my Mom’s identical twin sister so how dare I even suggest this. Surely my Mother would know her identical twin sister’s socks, they have the same DNA after all. How stupid of me to even think it might be her sock!

Weeks went by and soon it was the fourth of July. While at a family party, the topic of the missing sock came up (Naturally, because who doesn’t talk about socks at parties?) and who ended up claiming the missing sock?! Aunt Maribeth! My Mom was shocked but the case was finally closed. I am still waiting for my apology from my Mom though…

But just as we thought our sock nightmare was over, we experienced a PLOT TWIST and ANOTHER sock mystery popped up in August! This time we had the opposite problem though-too many people were claiming ownership of the socks!IMG_6752

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I needed an accurate description of the socks to help me properly solve the case.

Currently, the case of the men’s socks remains open and under investigation. If anyone has any information, please contact me immediately

2. The Summer Spider Came Back

Every summer for the past couple of years we have a big huge spider that comes and makes a web on my parents’ front porch, right in front of the door, every single summer night. It’s pretty annoying because I always forget about it, walk into it, freak out, and then feel itchy for the rest of the day. No matter how many times we knock down his web, the spider rebuilds one the next night. He started out as an unwelcome guest but then we all started to kind of admire him for his persistence, resiliency and strong work ethic. He quickly became the hot gossip of the summer with my family. Below is an actual conversation we had at dinner one night:

Dad: I will say this, he’s a very hardworking spider. He’s out there every night for hours rebuilding his web. I give him a lot of credit.
Me: I agree. And he builds really good, quality webs. I’ve walked into a lot of spider webs through the years but his is definitely the thickest I’ve ever walked into. I almost feel like I’m walking into one of those fake spider webs people use as Halloween decorations his webs are so sturdy!
Bridget: Are you guys serious? Stop giving him credit! He may be hardworking but he is dumb! If he was smart he would stop building his web in front of the door and build it somewhere were it wouldn’t get knocked down every day. He’s wasting his time!

Love him or hate him, it wouldn’t feel like sweet summertime without him.

3. I Tried New Things

I’ve really gotten in touch with my adventurous side since my travels to Italy in the Summer of 2018 (I’m so cultured now) so I decided to try two new things this summer: Coconut water and Natty Light Pink Lemonade. One drink I loved and enjoyed all summer long, the other I immediately spit out and wanted to burn the inside of my mouth after tasting. Can you guess which was which? I’ll just tell you-I regretted the coconut water. It was disgusting. I don’t care how many health benefits it has or how hydrating it is, I will never make the mistake of purchasing coconut water ever again. I bought one 16 ounce container of coconut water in May and after I took that first sip I placed it back in the fridge where it sat the rest of the summer. I kept telling my roommates I was going to finish it, that I was just “drinking it slowly” but I think they secretly knew I had no plans to drink it, and it became a running joke in our apartment.

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I finally gave up and threw it out on Labor Day.

Natty Pink lemonade on the other hand, that was like sweet, sweet nectar. Having never tried it before, I took a huge risk purchasing an entire 30 pack of it at the liquor store, but it really worked out in my favor. Not only did I love the taste, I was basically their unofficial spokesperson, telling everyone about it and passing out cans at parties as if I was the Oprah Winfrey of Natty Light.

[Walks into backyard barbecue with 30 case in hand]: “You get a Natty Pink Lemonade! And you get a Natty Pink Lemonade! Everybody gets a Natty Pink Lemonadddddddde!!”

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It was the gift that kept on giving

4. I Enjoyed the Great Outdoors

I spent a lot of time outside this summer, whether it was at the lake or drinking on my deck or people’s patios. I even worked out a little outside this summer including going on a few runs through the neighborhood on nice afternoons. That last outdoor activity wasn’t very enjoyable though so I probably won’t do that next summer. So many people are outside during the summer, do you think I want people to see me while I’m huffing and puffing and sweating on a run? Do you know how many times I had to reroute my run just to avoid passing by a group of grade school boys coming back from getting slurpees at 7-11 or playing at the park or where ever they were coming from? And thank goodness I ran wearing headphones so I could pretend to NOT hear the younger kids screaming at me to purchase lemonade. IMG_6821

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Sorry Lemonade stand owners, I’m a Millennial, I don’t carry cash. Unless you accept Venmo or Chase Quick Pay I cannot purchase your warm, debris-filled glass of lemonade.

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This outdoor workout was especially tough because the lounge chairs did not have cup-holders so I had to physically hold my vodka lemonade the entire time I was sitting by the pool!

5. I Saved a Turtle’s Life

Yes, it is true that not all heroes wear capes because I definitely wasn’t wearing a cape when I saved the life of a turtle. I was just minding my own business, hanging out at the lake when I saw turtle headed straight towards a busy road. I would say I quickly sprang into action but I didn’t. Knowing turtles are notoriously slow, I was able to leisurely get up off my chair, go to the shed to grab a glove (Wasn’t sure if he was a snapper so wanted to be safe. Plus, I didn’t want to actually touch the turtle, who knows what kind of diseases those things carry and I hadn’t gotten my annual flu shot at this point), have my mom take my photo with the turtle, and save his life before he made it to the road.

I was very proud and so I immediately texted my family about my super hero moment:

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Borrowed Mike Sr’s heavy duty gloves.

This was a very emotional event for our entire family, as my sister Jane had “accidentally” killed a turtle driving up to the lake the year before. We were all still pretty traumatized from that, so it was nice to have some joyous turtle news for once.

I am still very suspicious as to if it was a real accident or not though. It used to be that I could never imagine a family member of mine could be a cold blooded killer. But that all changed this summer when I witnessed my own mother run over and kill a toad. The poor thing never stood a chance under Mo’s 2012 eight passenger grey Honda Mini Van with stow n’ go seating and 16 cup holders. Unfortunately I was in the passenger seat when the horrific accident happened. I couldn’t believe what I saw. When I confronted my mother about it, she tried to play it off like it was nothing:

Me: Mom! Oh no! I think you just ran over and killed a frog!
Mom: Oh no, no, I didn’t run over a frog! Do you have your contacts in? That was a toad.
Me: Well excuse me, let me re-phrase: Mom! I think you just ran over and killed a toad! Plus, does it matter if it was a frog or a toad?
Mom: Well, a toad is like the frog’s ugly step sister. It’s fine. I would feel a little bad if it was a frog, but it was just a toad.

That terrible accident will forever be etched in my mind. It’s taken me a while to get over it. I feel only my sister Bridget can relate to what I am going through, as she was a passenger in the car when our sister Jane ran over and killed the turtle. As Bridget recalls, “I’ll never forget the sound of the turtle’s shell getting smashed under Jane’s tire. It sounded like we had just run over a picnic table.”

RIP Turtle and Frog/Toad. We will never forget you.

So there it is, my summer of 2019. It was definitely a memorable one, filled with lots of laughs and fun. Looking forward to what the Fall has in store for me!

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Duke enjoying the dog days of summer

It’s Good To See Your Smiling Face

img_9639.jpgA few weeks ago I stopped at my parents house after work to help my Mom with some tech issues she had been having. For months she had been telling us that she needed to get a new iPhone because ‘an annoying message kept popping up saying her storage was full and she didn’t know how to get rid of it.’ Well, I highly doubted she actually needed a new phone so I told her I would stop by the house and take a look at it. Plus, I was getting tired of her using the “my storage is full” excuse when she wanted to take a picture at family gatherings. “Ok kids, I want to get a picture after dinner but my storage is full on my phone so it can’t be done on mine. Kathleen, can we do it on yours? You brought the selfie stick right?” She’d always say. (Talk about a lame excuse, am I right? Classic Mo Money) For some reason my Mom just assumes I carry a selfie stick with me at all times. I think I’m beginning to get arthritis in my arm from constantly having to be the one to hold the selfie stick in our family group photos. I needed to fix her phone so other people in the family could start holding the selfie stick. That thing is heavier than it looks.

So, after I finished fixing the sound on her laptop, I moved on to her phone. It only took me about 2 seconds to realize why her storage was full-She had about 3,000 photos on her phone. You may think since she has five children and five grandchildren that these would be all family photos, but no. My Mom had thousands of the most random and useless photos on her phone that should have been deleted years ago. Some of the pictures I came across were:

  • a picture of a light bulb
  • a picture of a Carson’s 20% off coupon
  • a photo burst of a church bulletin
  • A blurry picture of a PowerPoint slide on her computer screen
  • Numerous photos of what looked to be a Poison Ivy rash on my Dad’s arm
  • A video of a faucet at Home Depot (I think she meant to take a picture but accidentally took a video instead.)

Here are some other Kodak moments she captured on her phone:

After telling my mom what the issue was, she agreed to let me go through and delete what I thought were dumb photos. I began doing this and stumbled upon some very strange photos. “Mom!” I yelled to her from the kitchen as I sat at the table deleting photos for her “Why the heck do you have a photo of a dead bird on your phone?!” What kind of sick person has a photo of a dead animal on their phone? I began to question if I really new this mom of mine that I though was so sweet. “Oh hold on sweetie let me see that photo.” She paused the murder show she was watching in the TV room to come take a closer look with her reading glasses. “Oh THAT bird!” she said excitedly. “Yea, look at how interesting that bird’s beak is! I’ve never seen a bird like that! I keep meaning to text it to my college roommate to see if she might know what type of bird it is! She really knows her birds. Don’t delete that one yet please.” “Mom,” I replied with a laugh. “You took this photo in 2014! That was five years ago! Do you really plan on still sending it to your friend at this point?!”

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The disturbing bird crime scene photo my Mom has on her phone.

Well, the dead bird photo was classified as a ‘do not delete’ photo so it stayed on her phone and I’m sure my mom still has yet to send it to her friend. But, I was able to delete some photos to give her some room on her phone and she was very grateful that her ‘little tech girl’ (as she likes to call me when she’s not calling me a ‘little smart ass’) came over to help her once again.

Even though I moved out of my parents house almost a year ago, it really doesn’t feel like it all that much because I find myself over at Mike and Mo’s Old Maid Boarding House quite often. In fact, I don’t think my dog Duke has even realized yet that I actually don’t live there anymore. But my old roommates and I have a good system going now since I moved out. I come home and provide them with IT services, humorous & sarcastic comments (As I’m sure they miss having their “Little Smart Ass” living with them full time), and they provide me with food (They really love feeding me which I appreciate because it saves me trips to the grocery store), Diet Coke and their interesting stories.

Just the other day my Dad was telling us how he had to break up a “cat fight” early one morning. We were all on the edge of our seats as he told the story. He literally broke up a fight between two cats that were hissing at each other. I was so glad no one was hurt in the scuffle. Talk about scary stuff. You never know what these pet parents are teaching their pets these days. Then my mom topped his exciting story with her own story about how she went shopping before Father’s Day to get water shoes for my dad but accidentally ended up buying water shoes for herself instead. Major plot twist!! Did not see that one coming.

Besides sharing stories, we also have some great conversations too. The other day when they were feeding me dinner we had a riveting conversation about one of my dad’s favorite shows, Ice Road Truckers:

Dad: Kathleen, want to watch Ice Road Truckers with me after dinner?
Me: Absolutely not. I have no desire to watch that boring old man show with you.
Dad: Oh come on it will be fun!
Mom: I thought that show was canceled?
Dad: I have some recorded from previous seasons.
Mom: What’s the guy’s name on that show that has all the kids?
Dad: The guy with the 12 kids? Ahhh… Hmmmm… Oh Hell what’s his name?!
[Several minutes go by as we anxiously wait for my dad to tell us the name]
Mom: That’s ok if you can’t think of it. I was just wondering.
Me: And I really never cared what his name was in the first place, so don’t hurt yourself trying to think of it.
Dad: No, hold on, it’s really going to bug me if I don’t think of it!
Mom: You could tell me his name was… Josh or something and I’d believe you, I don’t know any of the characters on that show.
Dad: ALEX! Ahhh yes! I remembered it! Alex is his name! He’s a Catholic too.

Other hot topics these days have included the new toaster they just got (Mike Sr. thinks it’s too fat and takes up too much room on the counter), the new washing machine (Mo Money HATES the new washing machine-it’s too loud) and the Shred and Electronics Recycling Day our town was having. There is nothing Mike Sr. and Mo Money love more than shredding and recycling old electronics. I was worried with this day coming up that I’d get flooded with calls from my parents asking my advice on whether or not it was ok to get rid of various cords they had been holding on to since the early 90s or computer games that only work with a Gateway 2000 desktop computer, but surprisingly they didn’t have too many questions for me.
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When a family member needs your help eating cheeseburgers you have to be there. No questions asked. Family comes first.

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No matter what we talk about or do when I go over to my parents’ house we usually have lots of laughs. We’ve come a long way since when I first moved out and was getting accused of taking fans from the house (my family is very particular about our fans) or being pestered about going through my mail or going through my coats in the coat closet. Now my parents seem to really enjoy having me stop by. I’m not sure if this is because I finally returned the coolers I borrowed from them or if they really are starting to enjoy my company.

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In my defense, when it was agreed that I could borrow the coolers for my party, we never agreed on a time frame of how long I could use them for.

After any visit, whether I was over for dinner, helping them scan something, fixing the TV, or just stopping in for an afternoon Diet Coke, as I’m leaving my parents tell me to text them when I get back to my apartment so they know I got back safe and sound (even though I only live about a mile away). Each time I text them that I got back to my apartment they tell me “We always love seeing your smiling face.” Mom and Dad, I always love to see your smiling faces too.

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Mo’s emoji game is on point.

 

And Holy Is My Name

Last weekend, Mike Sr, Mo Money, myself and my two other old maid sisters were vacationing in Michigan, sitting by the lake and sipping our morning coffee soaking up the view, when all of a sudden Mo ripped us from dreamland by saying, “Well, we better get going to get ready for Mass or we’ll be late!” My two sisters and I all painfully looked at each other and gave a collective sigh before we immediately started whining like four year-olds. “Noooooooo! Come on Mom, don’t we get vacationers dispensation?” I asked. “Plus the priest here just loves to talk! He makes the mass so long!” “Well, Dad and I are definitely going, you girls don’t have to go if you don’t want to…” My Mom said. We started to relax back in our lawn chairs. Just as my Mom was walking in the house to begin getting ready for church, her hand on the door knob, she turned back at us and hit us with her classic zinger, “But, you know, we have a lot to be thankful for…” Then she headed inside. Boom. Mo Money with the mic drop. There it was, the guilt bomb. The judging eyes. The look that said “Fine don’t go but I hope you bring a magazine with you to help pass all the time you’ll spend in Purgatory when your time comes.” There is nothing worse than getting guilt tripped by your Mother. Saint Peter’s judgement at the gates of Heaven is NOTHING compared to judgement from a Mom. Gosh darn it, Mom! Why did we have to be so fortunate and blessed and raised in such a loving home! Why couldn’t you have neglected us so we didn’t have all these wonderful things to be thankful for?! Sheesh!

So, like the good children and Catholics we are, we changed out of our pajamas and headed to church. Just as we anticipated, the priest talked for way too long and the mass was OVER AN HOUR. Doesn’t he know we Catholics have a strict time limit on the length of masses? The mass seemed extra long because we weren’t near any babies so entertainment was lacking. But, it was an outdoor mass so we did have some nice landscaping to look at. Plus, the biggest moth I have ever seen in my life was on one of the chairs behind us, and we got in a family disagreement about whether it was a real moth or a fake moth, so that argument made time go by rather quickly (It was real, but he made no attempt to shake our hand at the handshake of peace so he was a real rude moth if you ask me).

Once mass was over, like most Catholics, we got in the car and ripped the mass apart while driving home.

Mom: I mean his homily had a good message but sheesh! Did he need to keep repeating himself over and over?! It’s like, ‘Get the hook out!’ Am I right?
Me: Why can’t we ever say a simple, ‘Lord hear our prayer’ at the petitions?! Why does it always have to be something super long like “Please respond, ‘Infant baby Jesus, creator of all things, son of God, blessed, peaceful most high’ hear our prayer.”
Dad: I hate when they sing the “Glory to God” song in such a depressing tone. Can’t they make a more upbeat version of it?!
Bridget: That was ridiculous, that priest talked for way too long. Also, did anyone see that lady sitting a few rows in front of us still had the tag on her shirt? I was debating in my head whether or not I should tell her.
Jane: I still don’t think that was a moth, that thing was way too big. I think it was a cross breed of some sort of other insect.

Although the mass was a little long, we were glad we went. Mothers are always right. And my Mom was definitely correct in saying that we as a family have a lot to be thankful for. My parents instilled this in us from a young age. They supported these values by sending us to Catholic school and teaching us the importance of attending church weekly. Growing up, we always went to mass together as a family. The seven of us jammed in one pew always created a lot of excitement. Fights between us siblings would usually occur, causing my parents to strategically sit between certain siblings, using themselves as human shields when fights broke out. A lot of fights happened during the Palm Sunday Mass when we would take a palm and slowly try to stick it in the other person’s ear while they weren’t looking. This would especially make my Dad mad because I’m pretty sure Palm Sunday mass is his favorite mass of all time and we were distracting him. He loves being able to play a role in the gospel and he really gets into character. So much so that we usually have to tell him to tone it down a little as he yells very loudly over everyone else in church, “BARABBAS, BARABBAS! FREE BARABBAS!” or “CRUCIFY HIM!” He was never able to join the drama club in high school so I think he feels this is his time to shine. While our Dad always looked forward to Palm Sunday mass, for the rest of us, it caused a lot of anxiety, at least for the first half of the mass, as we were all wondering if the priest would let us sit or make us stand for the extra long gospel. You never forget those Palm Sunday masses where you had to stand the entire gospel.

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As you can see, Jesus and I grew up together.

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Looking sharp in our uniforms. The real sin here is Bridget wearing that hemp sea shell necklace.

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Did Mo Money send us to Catholic school because of the great education we would receive or because she knew we would have to wear uniforms and she wouldn’t have to do as many loads of laundry?

During crowded Christmas and Easter masses, it was not uncommon for one of us kids to faint. I still remember standing during the “Our Father” prayer and turning to see my sister Maggie looking white as a ghost, (More white than her usual pale complexion) and then hearing my Dad whisper yell to my brother from the other end of the pew “MICHAEL! CATCH MAGGIE! SHE’S GOING TO FAINT!” Unfortunately Michael didn’t realize what my Dad was telling him in time and Maggie made some weird noise and then hit that church floor pretty hard. The rest of us weren’t really phased by seeing my Dad help her up from the floor and take her to the back of church to sit outside for a bit because honestly, Maggie could get a paper cut and she’d faint. But the rest of the congregation seemed a little horrified.  “Oh she’s totally fine,” We nonchalantly told the extremely concerned strangers who were staring. “She does this all the time. A little fresh air and she’ll be back in time for communion.”

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Not sure why Maggie found it necessary to bring that purple sack of potatoes she’s holding with her to Easter Mass.

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After she celebrated Holy Saturday a little too much, we placed bets on when Jane was going to start to feel “a little faint” at this Easter Sunday Mass.

As we got older, and after we made our First Holy Communions, our parents trusted us to go to mass without them, which we did. Reflecting on it now, my parents are actually pretty lucky we all kept the faith after my mom made the four of us girls all wear THE SAME communion dress at our First Holy Communion. Talk about a fashion faux pas! Puffy sleeves may have been in style when my oldest sister made her communion but by the time I made mine, puffy sleeves were totally out of style. It was definitely a cross to bear. Despite having to wear an out of style dress from the early 90s, my First Communion was still “the best day of my life” apparently: 

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Spelling has never been a strong skill for me.

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Our communion photos hanging in our upstairs hallway so guests can vote on “who wore it best.” Vote for me please.

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Jane trying to choke me after I told her she would have to wear the puffy sleeved communion dress too. Also, guarantee after my mom reads this blog she’ll say to me “I loved that communion dress! I thought it was really cute on ALL you girls!”

When we did go to mass on our own, we were always sure to grab a church bulletin as proof to Mike and Mo that we actually attended. A church bulletin is basically a receipt to the mass. We all knew that without our receipt our parents would start asking lots of questions about the readings to test us and see if we actually attended. We NEVER left mass without a bulletin.

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Passing down all my wisdom to my nieces and nephews: “Auntie Kath’s Life Lessons.” Look for it on the Best Sellers List soon.

So, although sometimes masses can be a little long, my siblings and I have all continued to go as adults. Because our Mom is right, we have a whole lot to be thankful for. We are very blessed and lucky.  And Mom is always right…right Dad?

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Even dressed as an angel my mom still found a way to put me in a turtle neck. Mo is a huge fan of the turtle neck look.

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Jane and I resting easy knowing we’ll get into Heaven.

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Our dog was never baptized and never went to Catholic School so you can see the worry and panic in his eyes in this photo, wondering if the “All Dogs Go To Heaven” rule still applies to him.

 

 

 

Stuff My Dad Says

IMG_1976My Dad is a very funny guy. Not as funny as me of course, but I’ll give him some credit. One of the many things I love about my Dad is that you never know what is going to come out of his mouth. This keeps things very interesting and it keeps everyone laughing in our family.

A while back, my younger sister Jane and I were eating dinner with my parents, just having a nice conversation (we were probably talking about Tupperware to be honest, that seems to be dominating our conversations lately) when all of a sudden my Dad turns to my sister and me and says in a very stern voice, “Now listen! I don’t want any of you kids playing with those Ouija Boards! From what I hear they are just a channel for evil spirits!” It was silent for a minute as Jane and I looked at each other and tried to process what he just said. Then we burst out laughing.

I had noticed when going through our DVR that someone in the house kept recording shows such as Ghost Hunters, My Ghost Story and A Haunting. Clearly my father was the one recording these shows. I guess have to be better about setting the parental controls to make sure he’s not watching television shows that are obviously too scary for him.  “Well, that was random and has nothing to do with what we were talking about,” I said. “Just don’t play with them!” he said. “I hear they are only portals to these evils spirits!” “Dad, we are 27 and 23 years old, do you really think we are going out playing with Ouija boards with our friends?” I said. “Hell! I don’t know what you girls do when you go out on the weekends!” He responded.  I began to laugh again saying, “Believe me Dad, when we tell you we’re going out binge drinking with our friends at the bars, we’re telling you the truth. We’re just big boozers, not ghost hunters, so you have nothing to worry about.” “Well, I just found Mom had a Ouija Board when she was little!” He said. I was laughing uncontrollably now but manged to say, “Would that have been a deal breaker for you? If you knew when you were dating her that she had a Ouija board in 3rd grade, do you think you still would have popped the question?” For a minute he looked like he was really thinking hard about the answer to that question. Finally he said he probably would have still married her but made sure to have “a priest come in or something to get rid of any spirits that might have latched on to her.”

When my Dad is not talking about Ouija boards he’s usually making fun of me. The other day I stopped at my parents after work and had a backpack on with my work laptop in it. My Dad immediately commented on this as soon as I walked in the door. “What are you doing with that backpack on?! You already look like a 12 year old, that backpack does not help your case.” “EXCUSE ME, DAD!” I responded, “But I will have you know that I am a business woman with a lot of important business things I need to carry around, and my laptop is big and heavy so I need to use a back pack! I can’t fit it all in a purse!” “Well with you wearing that thing I’m worried the police are going to see you and call us to come pick up our little girl. [Does impression of police officer] ‘Yes, excuse me, Mr. Kelly but we spotted your daughter walking down the street, shouldn’t she be in school?’ DCFS will be after us too.” My Dad really made himself laugh with that one. “Well it’s your and Mom’s fault I look so young!” I replied “You guys are the ones that gave me these genes!”

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Was I seven or seventeen when this photo was taken? We can never really know.

When he’s not making fun of me for looking like a child, he is usually teasing me about being weak. Back in February we had a span of extremely cold days, and I accidentally left a case of Diet Coke in the trunk of my car which froze and then exploded. This was devastating, all 12 cans exploded, no survivors-it was hard to see my beloved Diet Coke in that state. Then my trunk froze shut so I couldn’t open it to clean in up. I wasn’t too worried about it though because cleaning up that Diet Coke massacre seemed like a lot of work, so I was fine with having an excuse to wait to do it. I stopped home and was telling my parents this story when my Dad interrupted me in the middle of it and said “Oh no, no, the trunk is not frozen shut, you’re just a weakling.” I tried to assure him that I tried numerous times to open it with no luck because it was, in fact, frozen shut, but he would not believe me. “Well that’s because you’re like a little infant! Infants aren’t strong enough to open trunks! Here, where’s Jane?!” My Dad said, looking around the house. “She could open that trunk up for you with no problem, she’s ‘Strong like Bull.’ JANNEEEE COME DOWN HERE PLEASE!” He yelled up to her. My dad had recently had surgery so he could not do any heavy lifting, so he outsourced the manual labor to his youngest daughter. Sure enough, Jane went out and popped the trunk right open. “Oh.” I said. “I guess you were right, Dad.”

If you feel bad for me that my Dad makes fun of me, don’t. He makes fun of his other four children too. (See my Dad’s contribution to our family group text below that he sent us a few years ago when visiting Jane in college for Parents Weekend)

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Our Dad is so sweet.

While he makes fun of us a lot, he’s also taught us how to give it right back to him, and we never hold back in doing this. Because of this, we’ve had a lot of laughs throughout the years. My Dad is a big goofball, and he’s definitely passed on this trait to me. So since we are both goofy nutcases, a lot of the conversations I have with my Dad don’t even make any sense. Other people overhearing them would probably think we were crazy (which we are). Most of the things my Dad and I talk about center around my Dad’s favorite things: trains, trucks, construction equipment and Diet Coke)

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This was last summer when I was living my best life on vacation in Michigan. Sipping Diet Cokes and watching trucks, making my Dad jealous. Life was good.

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Making fun of my Dad for being a dork and reading train magazines. I did become worried when I saw there was an article in the magazine titled “Meet a Family Who Cleans Up Derailments”- didn’t want Mike Sr. to get any ideas for his own family…

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Forget about the beautiful view of the ocean and mountains, I had my eyes set on that beautiful piece of construction equipment.

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Mike Sr. putting on his safari hat to head out to do one of his favorite things-rake leaves.

When I was about four years old, for some odd reason, my Dad decided one day at dinner that it would be hilarious if he started calling me a “Soup Spoon.” So from then on most days when he would come home from work, before taking off his coat or putting down his briefcase he would come through the door and make a beeline for the silverware drawer in the kitchen, grab a spoon and say to it “Hi Kathleen! How was your day?” My siblings thought this was also very funny, but I was not a fan, so this added to the hilarity for my Dad. So, for the past 25 years of my life or so, my dad still likes to call me a soup spoon or randomly text me about soup spoons. As you can imagine this joke has never gotten old (sarcasm font used on that last sentence).

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Wise words to wake up to from my Father. Please note that he sent that text at 6:26am. 

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Classic Millennial desperate to find some wifi.

While I often refer to my dad a weirdo, lunatic, nutcase and goof, I have come to realize I am just like him. But I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. I feel lucky to have grown up with a Dad like mine. He always cheered us up when we were sad, made us laugh when we were crying and has always been there ready with a joke to help ease a stressful situation. (Usually a lame joke but a joke nonetheless). A lot of people talk to their Dad about the news, sports, or career things, but I’m happy to continue talking to my Dad about trucks, trains and construction equipment. So this one’s for you Dad. Thanks for teaching us how to always find the humor in life and turning us all into lunatics just like you.

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We got really excited for cake.

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I don’t even know what to say about this photo.

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Mike Sr. doing his fake smile, probably at his wit’s end with his kids saying through clenched teeth “just take the picture Mo.”

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Classic Jane, the Big Boozer, hit the bottle a little too hard that night and passed out.

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Apparently my mom didn’t want to be pictured with this bunch of lunatics. I don’t blame her.

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