Grey Hair.

joe_dotAs we were all sitting together eating lunch the other day, I told Joe and Dot that I recently discovered my first grey hair.

Me:  “I was getting a haircut and when I looked down on my cape I noticed a patch of grey hair, so of course I had to stop at Fred Meyer on my way home so that I could buy a new hair color right away!”

Joe and Dot laughed.

Dot said, “When I first started turning grey I would pluck the grey hairs out with tweezers.”

Joe:  “Well you’d better not tweeze out your grey hairs now!  You’d have to pluck off your whole head!”

Dot:  “So would you!”

Joe:  “Men don’t have to cover their grey.  It just makes them look more distinguished.”

Dot rolled her eyes.

Me:  “Some men do color their hair nowadays.  There is even an entire section of hair color just for men at the store.”

Joe:  “Is that right?”

Me:  “Yep.”

Dot:  “I saw an old geezer downtown one time who had jet black hair and it just didn’t look right at all.  Especially since his eyebrows were grey.  I thought that was very suspicious.”

Joe:  “Well what was he supposed to do?  Pluck out his eyebrows?!”

The News.

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Joe: “What are we watching?”

Dot: “The news.”

Joe: “Huh?”

Dot: “The NEWS!!”

Joe looked at the TV and then looked at me with a concerned expression.

Me: “What’s the matter Joe?”

Joe shrugged: “Well see here… Dot says we’re watching ‘the nudes’ but all those people have their clothes on.”

I tried not to laugh: “I see that…hmm must be the wrong channel, I guess?”

Joe’s eyes lit up: “Yeah…maybe we should turn it back!”

Winter.

Joe got his hair cut last week.  Tootsie would cut a bit and then show Dot, and Dot would say, “Go shorter.”  Poor Joe started to look a little bit worried.

Joe:  “It’s going to be too short!”

Dot:  “It looks good when it’s really short.”

Joe:  “Well I like your hair best when it’s not short, curly and gray, but I don’t make you change it!”

Dot:  “Oh Joe, just hold still and let her cut your hair.”

Tootsie did a few more snips and Joe shouted:  “Wait!  It’s winter!  I’m going to get too cold without my hair!!”

Dot smiled:  “If you get too cold then I’ll keep you warm…”

Joe:  “Did everyone hear that?”  Tootsie and I smiled and shook our heads “yes”.

Joe winked at Dot:  “Look here, Dot.  I’ve got witnesses and I’m going to hold you to that…”

Dot:  “Yeah, yeah.  Just hold still and let her cut your hair!”

Joe sat back in his chair, grinned, and happily let Tootsie snip away.

 

 

 

 

God and Binders.

I just watched the Presidential debate with Joe and Dot.  Well, mostly just Dot because Joe slept through the whole thing and whenever he woke up for a brief moment, he’d just look at the TV and say, “Who’s doing all the YAPPING!  YAP, YAP, YAP…”

Dot is extremely political, so she watches everything on the news that she can possibly find about this election, which I don’t mind at all because of course I’m interested in it as well.  Dot usually keeps her comments and beliefs to herself, but tonight when I was tucking her into bed, her mind was racing.

Dot:  “I think that people are worried about Romney being Mormon.”

Me:  “Yeah, I think that you’re probably right about that.”

Dot:  “They’re worried that he’ll be too strict and make everyone stop drinking caffeine and alcohol because Mormons don’t participate in those things.”

Me:  “Well, yeah maybe…”

Dot:  “Well I’ll tell you what, I’d sure be mad if someone tried to tell me to stop drinking coffee…but Mormon or not, at least Romney’s got a little God in him.

I tried not to laugh, but I had to chuckle a little:  “You don’t think Obama’s got God in him?”

Dot:  “No, not Obama.  He doesn’t even go to CHURCH and I think that’s just TERRIBLE!”

She was saying all of this as I was trying to put her eye drops in, and because she jerked every time she emphasized a word, she ended up with saline solution all over her face.

Me:  “Has Obama said that he never goes to church?  I don’t remember ever hearing him say that…”

Dot:  “Well, I don’t think that he’s such a bad guy or anything.  Maybe he went to church before he was President, but now he’s afraid to go to church because someone might shoot him for being black.”

Once again I tried not to laugh and encouraged her to relax so that she could get some sleep tonight.

Dot:  “Oh I won’t be able to sleep tonight, I just KNOW it!  I won’t be able to sleep until Romney is elected President.”

Me:  “You aren’t worried at all about his binder full of women?”

Dot:  “Huh?”

Me:  “Remember that part where he said that he believes in equal pay for women, and then he went on to say that he had his advisers go out and make him a binder full of women so that he could hire a couple of them?”

Dot:  “Oh yeah, but that was pretty nice of him to make sure that they got home at night to make dinner and spend time with their children.  I think that’s very thoughtful of him.”

Me:  “Yep that’s pretty thoughtful all right.  Okay, try to get some sleep now.”

Dot:  “I will.  I’ll try.  But wait, Whitney…?”

Me:  “Yeah?”

Dot:  “Just remember that Romney’s the one that’s got a little God in him.  That’s more important than binders…”

Me:  “Okay, I’ll try to remember that, Dot.”

Dot:  “Okay then.  Goodnight.”

Me:  “Goodnight.”

 

 

 

God and Binders.

I just watched the Presidential debate with Joe and Dot.  Well, mostly just Dot because Joe slept through the whole thing and whenever he woke up for a brief moment, he’d just look at the TV and say, “Who’s doing all the YAPPING!  YAP, YAP, YAP…”

Dot is extremely political, so she watches everything on the news that she can possibly find about this election, which I don’t mind at all because of course I’m interested in it as well.  Dot usually keeps her comments and beliefs to herself, but tonight when I was tucking her into bed, her mind was racing.

Dot:  “I think that people are worried about Romney being Mormon.”

Me:  “Yeah, I think that you’re probably right about that.”

Dot:  “They’re worried that he’ll be too strict and make everyone stop drinking caffeine and alcohol because Mormons don’t participate in those things.”

Me:  “Well, yeah maybe…”

Dot:  “Well I’ll tell you what, I’d sure be mad if someone tried to tell me to stop drinking coffee…but Mormon or not, at least Romney’s got a little God in him.

I tried not to laugh, but I had to chuckle a little:  “You don’t think Obama’s got God in him?”

Dot:  “No, not Obama.  He doesn’t even go to CHURCH and I think that’s just TERRIBLE!”

She was saying all of this as I was trying to put her eye drops in, and because she jerked every time she emphasized a word, she ended up with saline solution all over her face.

Me:  “Has Obama said that he never goes to church?  I don’t remember ever hearing him say that…”

Dot:  “Well, I don’t think that he’s such a bad guy or anything.  Maybe he went to church before he was President, but now he’s afraid to go to church because someone might shoot him for being black.”

Once again I tried not to laugh and encouraged her to relax so that she could get some sleep tonight.

Dot:  “Oh I won’t be able to sleep tonight, I just KNOW it!  I won’t be able to sleep until Romney is elected President.”

Me:  “You aren’t worried at all about his binder full of women?”

Dot:  “Huh?”

Me:  “Remember that part where he said that he believes in equal pay for women, and then he went on to say that he had his advisers go out and make him a binder full of women so that he could hire a couple of them?”

Dot:  “Oh yeah, but that was pretty nice of him to make sure that they got home at night to make dinner and spend time with their children.  I think that’s very thoughtful of him.”

Me:  “Yep that’s pretty thoughtful all right.  Okay, try to get some sleep now.”

Dot:  “I will.  I’ll try.  But wait, Whitney…?”

Me:  “Yeah?”

Dot:  “Just remember that Romney’s the one that’s got a little God in him.  That’s more important than binders…”

Me:  “Okay, I’ll try to remember that, Dot.”

Dot:  “Okay then.  Goodnight.”

Me:  “Goodnight.”

Trademark.

As some of you know, I wrote a song many moons ago that quickly turned me into a One Hit Wonder.  It is a song called, “Run From the Moose”.

Last week I took my guitar with me to work so that I could serenade Lois with my (very limited) singer/songwriter abilities, and I wasn’t sure how she would react.

Well, as it turned out, Lois LOVED it, so I will definitely need to pack my guitar to work with me from now on.  Her reaction to “Run From the Moose” created quite an uproar though, I must say!

I played the song from start to finish, and once it was over I smiled and said, “The End.”

Lois (her face showing every kind of shock and awe imaginable):  “DID YOU WRITE THAT SONG?!”

Me:  “Yep, I sure did.  It is the first song that I ever wrote as a matter of fact.”

Lois:  “Have you trademarked that song yet?!”

Me:  “No I haven’t.”

Lois:  “OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO TRADEMARK THAT SONG!!  Has anyone else heard it?”

Me:  “Yes, I’ve played this song at least a hundred thousand times (maybe a slight exaggeration).  All over the world even!”

Lois looked defeated:  “Well then I’m sure that someone has already stolen your song and trademarked it for themselves.”

I laughed:  “No, I don’t think so, Lois.”

Lois:  “ARE YOU KIDDIN’?  How much you wanna bet that someone out there is a millionaire right now because they stole YOUR song?”

Me:  “Lois, it’s okay really, no one has stolen my song.”

Lois:  “Well you’re being pretty naive about it if you ask me…”

I tried to change the subject:  “Sure is getting cold out there, isn’t it?  What happened to our summer?”

Lois:  “WELL YOU’D BETTER GET A TRADEMARK ON THAT SONG RIGHT AWAY!!”

She shouted so loudly that it actually startled me.

Me:  “Okay Lois, I will get a trademark put on my moose song.”

Lois:  “You’d better do it right now!  Before someone steals it!”

Me:  “Okay, I will go on my computer right now and figure out how to put a trademark on it.”

Lois shrugged:  “Well, it’s probably too late anyhow.  I’m sure that someone already stole it from you.”

Me:  “I can check on the Internet to see if someone stole it from me too.  Just give me a minute to do a search, okay?”

Lois:  “It’s such a shame.  Such a waste of a brilliant song.”  Lois hung her head and looked like she was about to cry.

I got my computer out and quickly pretended to do a search about “Run From the Moose” so that I could give Lois the good news.

Me:  “Okay Lois, I just searched on Google and so far NO ONE has stolen my song.”

Lois:  “Are you SURE about that?!  And what is this boggle thing you’re talking about…?”

Me:  “It’s called ‘Google’ and it’s the place where you go to look for things on the computer, and yes, I’m sure that no one has stolen ‘Run From the Moose’.  I’m trademarking it for myself right as we speak and…TUH-DAH!  It’s trademarked under my name now.  Just like that.”

Lois looked very suspicious:  “Well your computer thing-a-ma-jiggy is lying to you.”

Me:  “What do you mean, Lois?”

Lois:  “Because I KNOW FOR A FACT that someone else recorded that song on an album already.”

Me (trying not to laugh):  “Is that so…and which album is that?”

Lois:  “Well, I can’t remember the name of the album…let me think…ummmm…WOODY GUTHRIE!”

I wanted to pee my pants just for the mere mention of Woody Guthrie and myself in the same conversation.

Me:  “You think that Woody Guthrie stole my song and recorded it on one of his records huh?”

Lois:  “No, never mind, it wasn’t Woody Guthrie…It was…”  Lois started to scratch her head with both hands and she tried to summon up the name that was on the tip of her tongue.

Finally she shouted out, “BOB DYLAN!!”

Holy Crap, my head was getting bigger by the minute.

Me, once again trying to change the subject:  “How about I play you another song now?  I can play one that you can sing along to.  Do you know ‘You are my Sunshine?’ how about I play that song?”

Lois:  “Well alright.  Just don’t go playing another Bob Dylan song and trying to trick me into thinking that you wrote it…”

Me:  “Oh I won’t Lois.  I promise.  You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”

Lois:  “You make me HA-P-P-PPY when somethin’, somethin’, somethin’…”

Cowgirls and Indians.

I was trying to entertain Joe this afternoon so that he would stop trying to “go home” by looking through a book about rodeos.  Joe loves anything that has to do with rodeos.

As we flipped through the pages we notice that there were several old, black and white photos of Native Americans wearing fancy head-dresses, and there were several photos of some famous cowgirls as well.

I was trying to make conversation with Joe as we looked through the pictures, and the conversation went something like this:

Me:  “Wow, look at those beautiful horses, Joe!”

Joe:  “Why are there Indians sitting on them?”

Me:  “Well, I’m not sure.  It looks like they were part of the rodeo show at one point.”

Joe grunted.

Me:  “I’m pretty sure that if they’re wearing those fancy head dresses then they must be chiefs, don’t you think?”

Joe laughed:  “How would I know?  I haven’t been hanging out with any Indians lately.”

Me:  “Well, actually, technically I am a Native American.  My mom is a registered tribe member, and you’ve been hanging out with me…”

Joe looked shocked:  “Is that right?!  Well you don’t look like no Indian to me.”

I laughed:  “Funny how that works huh?  I got more of my dad’s coloring I guess.”

Joe:  “Well what I want to know is, if you’re an Indian, then what the hell are you doing asking ME about Indians?  You’re the expert!”

Okay, moving on.  I smiled at him and turned the page.

Me:  “Oh look, Joe!  Looks like they’re barrel racing in this one.”

Joe:  “There’s a girl on that horse.”

Me:  “Yep, it’s a cowgirl.”

Joe:  “Rodeos are no place for a woman.”

Me:  “Why is that?”

Joe:  “Because they could fall off and get hurt.”

Me:  “Yeah, but couldn’t a man fall off and get hurt too?”

Joe laughed:  “Well yeah, but men have harder heads.  Plus, no one cares if a man gets any uglier.”

I laughed:  “That’s a good point.”

Joe looked at me with his sweet doe eyes:  “Can I go home now?”

Incontinence.

Lois and I often sit at the kitchen table for an hour or more after dinner, just chatting and telling funny stories.  She asked me a great question last night; one that I hadn’t really thought about too deeply.

Lois:  “When did you realize that you liked old people?”

I teased her and winked:  “How do you know that I like old people?”

Lois:  “Well, I just assumed since you spend so much time with us old farts…”

I laughed:  “Good point.”

I thought about it for a moment, and then I told her a bit about my childhood.

Me:  “When I was a little girl and my parents were still together, I would go on bus trips all the time.  My parents had a tourist business where they would take groups of old people on bus trips to Reno and all over the place.”

Lois was intrigued:  “Oh really?!”

Me:  “Yeah, it was really fun!  I hung out with the senior citizens all the time.  I remember one time I was so embarrassed because when I was around 4 years old, I fell asleep on one of the old lady’s laps.”

Lois:  “What was so embarrassing about that?”

I laughed:  “Well, the falling asleep part wasn’t embarrassing, but it was sure embarrassing when I woke up and quickly realized that I’d wet my pants all over that poor lady!”

Lois just about fell out of her chair she was laughing so hard:  “What did she do?!”

Me:  “Well she was so sweet to me.  I remember that I started crying and telling her that I was sorry and she just patted my arm, smiled and said, ‘Oh it’s okay sweetie.  You’ll stop wetting your pants one day soon, but then when you get to be my age you’ll start wetting your pants all over again…'”

Lois was laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her face:  “Well isn’t that the TRUTH!”

The Seafood Diet.

Dot was asking me about my diet this morning because she’s impressed with the results that I’ve achieved so far.  I explained to her that I’m not allowed to eat carbohydrates.  She had a puzzled look on her face so I said that I just don’t eat any sugar or flour; so no bread, rice, pasta or desserts for me.

Dot:  “Well I think that I’d like to go on that diet with you.”

Dot probably weighs 100 pounds soaking wet, so I told her that she didn’t need to go on any diets.

Dot looked at Joe’s expanding belly:  “Well then we should put Joe on that diet with you.”

Joe looked shocked:  “ME?!  I’m not going on any goddamned diet!”

Dot:  “Well, you should go on a diet!  Besides, this one sounds perfect for you…”

Joe:  “The only way that any diet will be perfect for me is if I can eat as much ice cream and as many cookies that I want!”

Dot:  “See?  This will work out perfectly!”

I stopped their argument to interject:  “Actually Dot, this diet is not perfect for either of you.”

Dot looked confused:  “But I thought that you said that all you can eat is sugar and bread…?”

I laughed, “No it’s the opposite.  The only thing that I CAN’T have is sugar and bread.”

Joe crossed his arms and gave Dot a look that said, “I told you so!”

Dot:  “Well that just doesn’t seem right not being able to have desserts…”

Me:  “I actually don’t know of any diets where desserts are permissible, Dot.”  I thought back and suddenly remembered a joke from grade school, and with a straight face I said, “Well, except of course the Seafood Diet…”

Dot looked intrigued:  “What do you get to eat on that diet?  Just fish and shrimp and stuff?”

I winked at Joe:  “Well it’s a simple diet.  Basically how it works is when you SEE food, you get to EAT it!”

Joe busted out laughing at that point.  “Ok, you’ve talked me into it.  I’ll go on THAT diet!”

Dot laughed too:  “Oh just never you mind about diets, Joe.”

Joe:  “Yeah, but now I WANT to go on a diet.”

I laughed and said, “Well it’s pretty much the diet you’re already on, Joe.”

Joe:  “Is that right?!  Well all right then.  That sounds alright.”  Then he went back to reading his newspaper.

 

 

 

 

The Shrinking Jacket.

I’ve recently lost a bunch of weight; enough that people are beginning to notice and make comments which is always nice.  When I got to work this morning, Dot and Joe were sitting at the kitchen table finishing their breakfast.

Dot said, “Whoa somebody is looking smaller!”

I was thrilled with the compliment of course, so I told her that I was so excited because the jacket that I wearing (of course I modeled it for them) was way too small for me this time last year, and when I tried it on last week I was amazed because I could actually zip it up.  (I had never been able to zip it before; I always had to wear it open.)

Dot:  “Well that’s just great!  We are so proud of you, aren’t we Joe?”

Joe looked up from his coffee at me for a moment:  “Who are we proud of…?”

Dot:  “We’re proud of Whitney!”

Joe:  “Who’s Whitney?”

Dot pointed at me.  I smiled and waved.

Joe grinned back:  “What are we proud of HER for?”

Dot:  “We’re proud of her for being able to fit into her jacket!”

Joe looked at me:  “What happened?  Did your jacket shrink?”

I laughed and said:  “Nope, I’m the one who shrunk.”

Joe:  “Oh, well I was just wondering because there’s something funny going on around here with the dryer.  My shirts all seem to be shrinking!”  Joe pointed at his long sleeved t-shirt that was fitting very snug over his middle, “SEE?!”

Dot was about to say something to him (about how much ice cream he’s been eating I’m sure) and I interrupted her to say, “Well, I’ll be sure not to put my jacket in the dryer here then!”

Joe:  “Yeah, that’s probably smart.  You wouldn’t want it to go and shrink on you.”  He went on to mutter under his breath, “goddamned dryer” before he went back to reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee.