Perpetually Peeved


Wednesday “What the…?”

Okay folks, turn off your cell phones and grab your popcorn, it’s time for the next installment of “Wednesday What the…?”  Same swamp, different thing.  Guaranteed to induce some face-grabbing, toe curling screams.

1.  What the… are you selling?   

Hmm… I’m so glad I made it out to my favorite Indian restaurant.  What do I feel like eating today?  Samosa?  Those are always good.  Shrimp puri?  Never had that before.  “Deep-Fried Spicy Ground Grouper Balls”  – the wha?  Now, I’ve heard of Rocky Mountain oysters before, but this is a little too much.  Do they even have grouper in India?  I’m sure if they did, it would be spicy.  What do they even serve this in?  A thimble?  WTF Someone Should Have Told Us the Correct Translation Is “Fritter”?
2.  What the…  are you wearing?   

 

Okay, forget that this looks like a scene out of Cheaters.  It’s hard to do recognizance when you are drunk and armed with only an iphone.  There are only two times that a red plaid skirt is considered acceptable attire:  1) if you are Scottish and playing the bagpipes at someone’s wedding and/or 2) it is Christmas day.  I don’t make the rules, I just make fun of you when you break them.  Let’s play Peeved’s version of what’s wrong with this picture…  remember those from the IQ tests?  No?  Just me?  Moving right along…  I spot 3 things wrong with this picture (fashion-wise).

Da na na, na na na na na, dun dunna na na, na na na  (Jeopardy theme song, yes?)

Let’s see how you did.

  1. This picture was taken on Labor Day weekend.  In the South.  Long sleeved black shirt, wool skirt, boots – ’nuff said.
  2. I would rather see you wear a fanny pack then a fanny pack that you drape across your shoulder.  The drape is only appropriate if you have a messenger bag or larger and/or are traveling through a city full of purse snatchers.
  3. Only supermodels and Miley Cyrus can wear mini skirts and boots.  And, when they do, they wear mini skirts and either full-on cowgirl boots or those cute little booties that DSW keeps emailing me about.

WTF Ms. Even If She Does Think She’s In An Episode of CHEATERS, That Is Not What I Meant By Playing the Bagpipes?

3.  What the… is that?   

Remember that time I told you I shouldn’t be allowed to use my debit card without passing a breathalyzer first?  Well, this is why.  WTF Was In That Beer?  and WTF Am I Supposed To Do With This Now?  

 4.  What the… school do you go to?   

Smalls:  Mommy, I’m sad.

Peeved:  Why are you sad, Smalls?

Smalls:  Because you and Biggie are so much smarter than me.

Peeved:  Oh, honey, we aren’t smarter than you, we’re just older.  Biggie has already been to school for eight years, and mommy went to school for thirteen years and then college for another four.  So, you’re not less smart, you just haven’t been to school as much.

Smalls:  Oh.  Well, actually, I’m really smart.  I know lots of things.  I learn them in school.

Peeved:  Oh yeah? What did you learn?

Smalls:  Well, I know that platypuses shut their eyes when they go underwater.

Peeved:  They do?

Smalls:  And, I know that beavers build their houses out of wood and call them dams and they don’t need those wood cutty things because they use their teeth.

Peeved:  They do?

Smalls:  Yeah, really, I’m serious.  They bite, bite, bite with their teeth.  I also know that cheetahs eat fish.  And gazelles.  And antelopes.

Peeved:  Really?

Smalls:  Yep, and they hunt them like this [growling]. And then the blood comes out.  I know all about the body too.

Peeved:  You do?

Smalls:  Yep, we have skin and bones and muscles and a brain and then there’s oxygen.

Peeved:  Where’s oxygen?

Smalls:  In the air.  We breathe it.  It goes into our stomachs.  Yep, I’m definitely smarter than you and Biggie.  You don’t even know these things.

This is a daily reflection from Small’s daycare.  They ask each kid the same question and then write down the answers for the parents to read at the end of the day.  I couldn’t be prouder.  WTF Not-So-Smart-Kid That Can Only Count To Two, While My Kid Has Obviously Already Mastered Veterinary Anatomy?

 5.  What the… kind of backwater town are you from?   

Funny.  I live right outside the city and I swear I was driving through the city to get to work this morning.  Yet, I must have taken a wrong turn and wound up in the lovely town of Backwater.  Apparently, there is only one truck and one big truck in Backwater, but lots of cars and buses.  Either that or in an effort to save paint, they are cutting down on extraneous letters.  Yes, that would explain the 2×4 “sign” on the back of the truck that says “Mobel Tires.”  WTF Kind of Mobile Tire Truck Doesn’t Have Any Tires In It’s Cab?  Is it bring your own tire day in Backwater?

 6.  What the… is wrong with you? 

It’s not you, it’s me.  What is wrong with me that I almost bought a bumper sticker the other day?  Only that it is the best bumper sticker ever.  Oh, ha ha, isn’t that funny.  I bet these people also have a “Mean People Suck” sticker on their car.  What a public service announcement.  Jack-knives.

Peeved:  [walking into the grocery store] Biggie, could you stop walking in front of the cart?

Biggie:  [talking REALLY loud]  Oh my gosh!  That girl needs a haircut. [Girl is 2 feet away from Biggie]

Peeved:  Biggie!  Shh!  That’s not nice.

Biggie:  Well, she does.  Did you SEE those split ends? Ugh.

Peeved:  Biggie.  Stop it.  It’s not nice to make fun of people.

Biggie:  Well, you do. 

Smalls:  Yeah, you do.

Peeved:  Knock it off, the both of you!

Biggie:  I was just saying she needed a haircut.  That’s not mean, it was the truth.  Her split ends were out of control.

Smalls:  Yeah, seriously.  Out of control, mom.

WTF And The Mother Of The Year Award Goes To…?



Lights, Action, Consequence
The Department of Torture has created a hybrid monster it likes to call the Big Granny.  This abomination rears its ugly heads when Biggie, the attitude-infused pre-teen/Secret Torture Agent joins forces with Granny, my mother and Chief Torture Agent, Division of Family Services.   

They are like the Zippleback of How to Train Your Dragon, except, less cute.

Peeved:  Biggie, I need you to put away those [completely inappropriate] clothes Granny just bought you and lay out your outfit for school tomorrow

Biggie:  Ugh.  God, Mom, I KNOW. [eye roll, drawer slam, foot stomp – she is only this coordinated when pouting] 

Peeved:  A simple, ‘yes, Mom’ will suffice.  The receipt for those clothes is still in the bag.  Talk to me like that again and I will have no problem returning them. 

Biggie: I am!  I’m doing it!  Gosh, Mom! [throws hands up in air, gives look of death, stomps foot again] 

Peeved: Biggie… 

Granny:  Oh, give her a break, she’s tired. 

Peeved: I’m sure she is.  I’m tired too, it’s no excuse for talking to me that way. 

Granny:  Oh, come on, she’s medicated. 

Peeved:  Mom, it’s Tylenol Sinus! [eye roll, foot stomp, look of death] 

See, much less cute.

If Lindsay Lohan didn’t have Dina doing such a bang-up job of coming up with excuses, I’d have to recommend my mother for the position.  I don’t know if you’ve seen the Matt Lauer interview with Dina Lohan, but she pretty much blames everyone else for Lindsay’s problems.  It’s the judge’s fault.  The judge was “coming down hard” on her.  This, of course, is true because the Judge is currently being recused.  What?  Lindsay is on her fourth stint in rehab and still, we can’t admit there may be a problem that has nothing to do with external forces?  The biggest mistake that judge made was not also ordering Dina to the Betty Ford Clinic for families of addicts. 

Call the engraver, we need to change "Mother" to "Enabler" - this makes me sad to be associated with Long Island.

Every Monday, I grab a beer, sit down and put on one of my favorite shows – Intervention on A&E.  (Yes, I realize how wrong that is.)  It’s so compelling to watch these people and their real-life struggle with addiction.  I love that the show actually keeps it real and portrays what happens when addicts face an intervention and go to rehab.  What happens is, about half or more relapse.  I used to try to guess which ones would make it and which ones would not.  However, that game got too easy to be any fun.  You can tell who was going to make it by their families.  If there was one – it only takes one – enabler in the group, they were done-zo.  I don’t understand this.  I literally yell at my TV.  It’s like watching a horror flick when the girl goes towards the weird sound instead of hiding in the closet and calling 911.   

Addict:  I don’t even have a problem.  I’m not even going.  

Good Family Member:  If you don’t go, then I will no longer let you stay at my house.  I will no longer let you borrow my car.  I will refuse to give you more money. 

Addict: That’s fine.  I’ll just ask Mommy. 

[Peeved:  Don’t do it Mom.  Stay strong.  Remember what Candi said, you will no longer let them kill themselves in front of you.  You are only helping her die.] 

Bad Mommy:  We love you, we just want you to get better. 

Addict:  Are you going to cut me off, too? 

Bad Mommy:  [crying, showing weakness] 

[Peeved:  No!  Bad Mommy! No!  Well, dammit, I give her about 10 days before she starts drinking the mouthwash.] 

I told you.

Parents need to stop giving kids excuses for why nothing is their fault.  Hollywood or not, there is no such thing as consequences anymore.  For my kids, I want life to be something they live, not just a series of things that happen to them.  The Dina Lohan’s of the world need to put on their big girl panties and start doing the difficult job of parenting.  No excuses. 




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