Friday, December 11, 2009

The Triumvirate Of Awesomeness

Are you lucky enough to have something in your life that you adore beyond words even though its absurdity defies description? After our post about Captain Coupon's favorite beverage, it became clear to us; everybody has ridiculous crap in their house that cracks them up. It's not just me & Kate! Which is wonderful, because we honestly spent quite a bit of time wondering if we were the only people on earth for whom punjana jokes never got old. I know we are immature, but this mom thing can get really tedious and hard. Especially when it gets dark so early and the kids are sick and the to-do list gets alarmingly long. So, we retreat into stupidity and we giggle. We thought we would share some of these random items from our lives, and you might too feel stupid and giggle.

And these items are, well... fantastic. And we were inspired to write about them by the Bloggess and her work describing The Irrepressable James Garfield. So, the top of the triumvirate is obviously James Garfield. Primarily because the Blogess is his mistress and she is our new patron saint of inappropriate humor. James Garfield, by the way, is "a GINORMOUS wolf/bear/pig thing" who has experienced major hair loss. Taxidermy, friends. His head is mounted on her wall. We are expecting our James Garfield holiday greeting any time now and we could not be more excited.

And now Lydia will discuss Hector Cabesa Del Toro...

Hector is a bleached longhorn skull. With horns that span about 4 feet across. He belongs to the Cap'n. We first came across Hector in a mercado in San Antonio, Texas many years ago. Before we had children, when we still went on exciting adventures (meaning that we could still afford to go on vacation). We were staying at the Menger Hotel, which is supposed to be haunted (sadly, our room was not haunted). It however, was the only room in the entire hotel that was not rented to someone attending the national conference for Mary Kay sales managers. Did you know that Mary Kay sales teams dress in identical outfits at their national conference? Well, they do. I would also like to add, to all of you observers of human nature, that you have not eavesdropped until you have overheard six women, dressed in identical leopard-print jeans and cowboy hats, discussing strategy in a bar. Their strategy to beat the bitches from Georgia once and for all. Sigh... Good times.

The next day we saw Hector. The Cap'n, he who hates to spend money, took one look and bought him. Didn't even ask how much. That should tell you something. We asked where Hector came from and we were told that he was very old and came from Mexico. Not knowing his given name and unwilling to let him suffer the indignity of anonymity, we christened him "Hector" - pronounced "ec-TOR" - about two minutes later. Did I mention that is Hector is huge and smells a little funny? Also, he barely fit in the car. And it was 900 miles home.

We lovingly hung Hector on the wall in our home office. A few months later we got pregnant. The office became the nursery. The crib went where the desk had been. And the Cap'n saw no need to move Hector. Seriously. He suggested hanging things from his horns in the manner of a large mobile or positioning soft white night-lights in his ocular cavities. But it wasn't a mobile or a night-light. IT WAS A SKULL. So I said no, and for once he listened to me. Hector then went to work with him and to my knowledge he is there to this day, helping the Cap'n guide the ship. I was not supportive of the deep mutual affection between the Cap'n and Hector. But thanks to the Bloggess, I have seen the error of my ways and Hector is welcome to move back into the house.

Just not into the baby's room.

And now Kate will describe the majesty of the Green F*cking Elephant...

I got him five birthdays ago. He was the first birthday present the children ever bought for me after we canceled Season One. I suppose the conversation with their dad went something like this:

Season One: What do you think mom would like for her birthday?

Son: Her favorite color is green.
Daughter: Her favorite animal is an elephant.
Season One: Excellent. Let's hurry to a tacky craft store. [my thoughts: or, street fair...or thrift shop...or, dumpster?]

They were giddy on my birthday. I open the box and discover a dark green, raffia wrapped elephant. Like a stuffed animal, but not cuddly or soft or cute or something I want to wake up next to. The kids were jumping up and down cheering. I looked over at McLovin just in time to see him fall off the couch....tears streaming down his face. Ass.

So I won't hurt the kids feelings, I whisper to him, "It's a green f*cking elephant." And he's like, "It could have been a severed arm." And I think to myself that an arm would be WAY cooler and what the f*ck am I supposed to do with this thing. Because I can't put the damn thing in the closet or the kids would be looking for it. And then Lefty is demanding to know if I just love it and what its name is and all I can think is Green F*cking Elephant. And I say of course I love him and his name is G-F-E. And then everyone stops cheering and tells me what a stupid name that is. So then I have to remind them it's my birthday and his name is G-F-E but if it makes them happy, I'll call him Jefe, and we can pretend we're Spanish.

I wake up the next morning and when I open the bedroom door, Jefe is standing there. Like waiting. For me. Like some stalker mini-pachyderm who's come to live in my house.

Jefe has spent his past five years terrorizing the house. I found him one day in an orgy of stuffed animals and a headless Barbie. We have never found her head.

McLovin unknowingly took him to work in his briefcase one day. I think a meeting with a "senior government official" is the perfect place to yank out an illegal alien elefante.

One day I found him in the refrigerator with a jar of mayonnaise. I figured he needed his privacy and shut the door. We had take-out that night.

McLovin glanced into his rear view mirror to find Jefe looking back at him. His front leg wrap is starting to come undone. I think he was silently demanding a ride to the craft store for glue.

He's been wrapped and unwrapped so many times, you'd think he was a fruitcake.

I woke up the other morning to find Jefe standing on McLovin's pillow, staring at me. People, this is not a good way to wake up. Now I sweep my arm across the bed before I open my eyes, just to make sure he's not there.

He's waiting for me in the bathroom.

I'm totally packing him in McLovin's lunch tomorrow.



  1. CLASSIC!! Oh my, make my entire (stay-at-home mom/daycare provider) day!!! LMAO!

  2. my hubby collects weird stuffed animals and other random paraphernalia. It all started at a grocery store (a regular one, not some "superstore" where this might be expected), around Christmas about seven years ago. There, looking for all the world like he had every right to be there, sat a stuffed muskox. Yup. MUSK. OX. With a jaunty ribbon (PLAID!) around his neck and a card on an elastic that reads: "Hi! I'm Manley the Muskox! BRRRR!" printed in white on a blue background with snowflakes all over it. HUH. We looked at each other and he picked it up with his "WTF?" face and I looked back at him with my "IDK - WHATEV" face, and then he squeezed...
    "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" (Epic, EIPC roar from this thing!) and after I picked it up off the floor to put it back and pretend we were never there, I set it off myself, but this time, a very creepy Mister Rogers voice comes out of it in a lovely smooth tenor: "Hi! I'm Manley!"
    And after hubby picks it up off the floor (I'm getting that watery-eyed semi-hysterical face on at this point) he sets it off again with another EAR-SHATTERING, ATTENTION-GRABBING "RRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

    and we lose it. Right there in the store, we're both sitting on the floor in the middle of the endcap right in front of the checkouts crying and hysterically laughing and peeing a little squeezing the damn toy and chiming right in "Hi! I'm Manley!" "RRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

    oh yeah. now he has a polar bear that poops goober raisinets, and three easters ago he made me buy butter shaped like a lamb, and for Christmas last year he got some kind of weasel from the kids... they have no idea why it's funny, but they've totally bought into the whole thing.

    And the best part is when one of us gets too bent out of shape over something, or the stress just gets to be too much, one of us will put Manley on the other one's pillow or squeeze him to wake the other one up or something equally silly just to make it all better. For awhile.

    Thanks gals!

  3. @Nicole- Oh. My. Freaking. God. I am laughing so hard I am crying right now. My 3 year old keeps asking if I am ok!
    I think I hurt my kidney or something from laughing so hard.

    For Mothers Day this year my hubby was at a conference and had forgotten that it was Mother's Day. So in an effort to make up for this he went to the only store there. A Bass Pro shop. Why he thought he would find ANY thing there is beyond me, but what he did find and bring home defied any sort of explanation. He found a stuffed squirrel toy that makes noises. (not a taxidermied squirrel either... I mean hey... I could have used that as inspriation to write childrens stories!) This squirrel sounds like it is dying. I think it was supposed to sound like a real squirrel but all it sounds is demonic.
    I don't know what could have possessed him to think I wanted it. What's more that I wanted it for Mother's Day! But there it was in all it's creepy screaching horror. It's a good thing I have a sense of humor because I was laughing so hard I couldn't be angry that a screaching squirrel makes him think of me.

  4. could this be the kids freaking out the parents version of elf on a shelf???




Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Popular Posts