Author: Kathleen Fisher

I was at work one day and a woman came in her with her little girl.  I was helping the mom and the little girl kept interrupting saying, “Hey, lady”, over and over.  Her mother told her to shush but finally gave in and said, “Now, what in the world do you have to say that is so important?  The little girl looked at me and said, “Hey, lady, why’s you’re hair so crazy?” 

That afternoon I went and visited the shop next door and told them the story.  One of the employees asked me if she was dark-haired and about four years old.  Yep, she was.  While they were in that store, the little girl yelled, “Hey, Mom, my butt itches real bad.”

Maturity……the moment when the thought bubble hovering over your head ceases to yap despite the overwhelming desire to inform the world of an itchy butt.

We got a kitten.  A real cutie named Beemer after a sweet little ride we had back in the day.  Har, har, har.  If we really named him after one of our early cars, he’d be called Oldsmobile Firenza (with faux paneling on the side).  When he came to his new residence, we took him straight to the basement so that Henry the Aging Dog wouldn’t find him and kill him.

This worked out pretty well until Beemer followed Mallie Bee up the stairs one night and said what the what people?  He found out he likey sunlight and the Man Cave wasn’t fit for a lion wannabee such as himself.  Once he entered the public domain, Henry was slow to realize that there was a friggin cat in the house.  He’s a little hard of hearing, can’t see so well and packing a few pounds so he’d feel something near him (like a cat) and by the time he’d get his lard ass up and moving the cat would run off.  He’d go back to sleep only to have it happen over and over until he figured out it wasn’t some kind of bad dream but a cat living in the compound.  Poor, poor baby.

This is Beemer.  He weighs about 2.5#

This is Henry.  He weighs about 90#.   This is where he sleeps most of the time (away from the friggin cat).

Nobody puts baby in a corner (unless you’re the new sheriff in town).

Big Daddy rides his bike every Saturday morning regardless of the weather.  His riding partner was out of town this weekend and on a lovely spring day that was perfect for bike riding, he was stuck with me.  He tried to act like it wasn’t painful but I recognized his sadness and decided to make our morning fun.

Once a year, the burbs around here have large item pickup.  Homeowners can put anything on the curb and the city will pick it up at no cost.  I’m after the old stuff – trunks, gardening tools, dressers, chairs.   With my big sale coming up in June, I needed some goods to repurpose that were free in nature.  I shop well alone but sometimes you need two people to heft the large items into the car.  Enter Bee as in the Dee.

I think it’s safe to say that digging thru other people’s garbage is not for everyone.  BD was reluctant to participate and wanted to wear a ski mask so nobody would recognize him.  Hey, we’re not robbing their house, we’re robbing their garbage.  A ski mask could be problematic with homeowners and God knows here in Kansas people defend their property (even when they don’t want it) if you know what I mean.

He started to make small talk since it was technically a date, but when I’m in the garbage zone I don’t like to be chatting.  “Oh”, he said, “sorry to disturb you.”  No worries, just pretend I’m you watching River Monsters.  Then this, “Just so you know, I’m not enjoying this.”  What did he say?   Since when did he start thinking that marriage was supposed to be enjoyable?  Hey, I’ve got an idea, let’s stop talking to each other.  Lookie, here, I’m having more fun already. 

Thirty minutes into the excursion and mighty slim pickings, BD starts bouncing his leg.  Oh no he didn’t.  Yeah, he was having a Flomax moment.  He was plenty sorry about that what with all the coffee and such and said he’d try to hold it for awhile.  Hold it like I do except when I cough, sneeze, push, pull, lift, bend over or laugh.   So with one stinkin’ ladder to my name, we turned around and headed home.

The next day I found out that the town divided pickups over three weekends according to neighborhood.  Thank ya, Jeezus.  As I write, the remaining citizens of Overland Park are perusing their basements and garages and while they may think of it as spring cleaning, I call it Christmas in April.  Giddyup and drink all the coffee you want, BD.  Plan B is to buy the economy size of Depends cuz you and me have two more dates scheduled and we’re not leaving until the wagon is full.  I can almost pee my pants in excitement.

The Beester lost her cell phone.  It’s been missing for a couple of weeks and in the Land of Tough Love, it was too bad, so sad kind of sympathy until a neighbor told me about someone who left his cell phone in a cab.  When he realized what he’d done, he called the cab company the next day and got the phone back.  What he also got was $400.00 in phone charges to a sex line that the cabbie was fond of (things must have slowed down a lot after that fare).  I had one of them there holy shit moments.

I hate cell phone companies and calling them makes my blood pressure go up and stomach knot but I needed to cancel service on this phone.  When I got around to it and gone thru all the prompts (press 7 if friends make fun of the “old” phone you bought six months ago, press 8 if your bill is longer than the # of pages you read in all of the last year, press 9 if you are going to put your fist thru the wall) I was pretty pissed and ready to do battle.  What I got was Tonya, who tsked, tsked my teenage daughter for losing the phone, told me it happens all the time, suggested we suspend service so that should it show up in the next thirty days we could call and activate it again and apologized for having computer problems.

Oh, I was going to rip somebody’s head off alright but instead I laughed with Tonya, said no worries about your computer problems, honey, said don’t teenagers and cell phones make you crazy, said hey, Tonya, do you and the fam have plans for Easter dinner this year cuz me and Big Daddy would love for you to come?  Oh, a jello mold and some deviled eggs, why that would be great.  Hmmm, mmmm….2:00.

Cell Phone Company Rep + Me = Two Shmoozers.  One of us is going to end up getting hurt and I’m pretty sure it’s not my new BFF, Tonya.

This week, a friend who was in a bind asked me if I could watch her two little kids all day while she worked.  I said yes even though being a nanny is for the young at heart and younger at body.  However, I have a dishwasher on the fritz and a whole lot of grays needing some color.  Necessity is the Mutha of Hasty Decisions.

The girls and I got along great until the last hour.  The older of the Missies wanted to open a box that UPS delivered but I said she had to wait until her mom came home.  She wanted me to call her mom at work so she could ask her and I said “no”.  A  fat, firm no.  That’s when the wheels fell off the Toddler Bus.  She begged, she threatened, she faux wailed and she faux tantrumed but I didn’t give in.  Maybe in my early days of parenting I might have, but I’ve gone thru three teenagers so not much rattles me.  Finally, she looked at me and said, “I hate babysitters named Kathy.”

I’m not sure how many Kathys have watched her over the years and what they’ve done to her, but for a second there it almost felt like her bold dislike of all babysitters bearing that name was specifically directed at me.

Mallie Bee and I were discussing Tuesdays.  Worse than Mondays for both of us.  Here’s a little jump start to that day that vexes us every week.  I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and doggone it, when I grow up I want to be like this kid…………

The first time my mom went to my dad’s house she thought his family was rich because their house was so nice.  Not even close.  My grandpa was a mechanic for the city bus line.   My dad used to say that my mom’s mom could make a ten course meal at the drop of her hat.  Not so, but she was able to pull things out of her fridge and put them in little serving dishes so that lunchtime looked like a tapas restaurant.

I have no idea how financially secure either one of them were but like most women of their generation, they had the ability to make something out of nothing.  A long time ago, that virtue was tossed aside so we could dive headfirst into consumption which doesn’t seem to be giving anybody great results.

I keep pictures of both of my grandmas close by.  Like one, I love to decorate.  Like the other, I can make something little look like something big.  They left this earth many years ago but their spirits remain nearby, teaching me that making do has always been about making a life.

I stumbled on this and thought it was worth sharing.  Three minutes to change your perspective on everything…………

I’m not saying I bought one of these at full price but I may have seen it deeply discounted at CVS awhile ago and it might have fallen into my cart.  Dr. Oz stated on his show yesterday that this product, without question, does not work to make your neck slimmer.  I can neither confirm or deny this but I am often mistaken for someone much, much younger (like 53 instead of 54).