AAAAAAAAA...to Z

Hooray! Patty Wysong’s A to Z meme is back, thus prompting me to get off my bum and get back to the keyboard. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this, so here’s a quick recap. Each week those participating in the meme will post something related to the letter of the week, presumably on Friday of that week. (I’m already late.) 

I contemplated writing about autism, the big “A” in our home. I’m sure I will write about it in some depth sometime in the not too distant future. However, considering I’m easing myself back into the blogosphere gently, I’ve opted to share my favorite “A” commercial.  Gotta love YouTube links.

Unfortunately, there's nothing quite as catchy as this place in our local phone book. If there were, I'd call them just to hear them answer the phone.

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Slap Happy

We enjoy watching NCIS around here. The Man and DSguy walk around the house, affectionately “Gibbs-slapping” each other upside the back of the head. Monkey Boy has gotten in on the NCIS action, too.

                                                

Now Monkey Boy is non-verbal, but does sometimes come up with single words or close approximations. We noticed once that some of the things Monkey Boy was saying sounded really close to the names of some NCIS characters. He said things like happy (Abby), ma-gee (McGee), and something that resembled “Gibbs.” Do we think he was paying attention to NCIS? No, but that’s beside the point.

Figuring Monkey Boy was on a roll, The Man decided to go for a long shot. He introduced another character name, waiting to see if Monkey Boy would bite.

“DiNozzo,” The Man would say, hoping to cajole Monkey Boy into saying it. “DiNozzo. DiNozzo!”

Nothing.

He tried again. “DiNozzo…DiNozzo…DuhhhhNoooozzo!”

Monkey Boy finally popped his dad on the schnoz as if to say, “De nose is on your face!”

I think Monkey Boy just invented the “DiNozzo-slap.”

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Coffee Talk

The Man and I went out to lunch yesterday. Now The Man, being the smart fellow that he is, started proofreading the menu. First he noticed that cheese was spelled as “chesse.” He gently pointed it out to the waitress, who was very gracious and replied that there were probably a number of typos in the menu.

While we were enjoying our meal, The Man found another questionable menu entry. Flagging down the waitress, he asked, “What’s togo coffee?”

“To go. Coffee to go.”

Now to be fair, it was a typo. There was no space in between to and go, but the sheepish look on his face was priceless. It was just one of those “gee I feel dumb” moments. Bless his heart. He has had coffee issues before.

On our honeymoon, we stopped at a little café for a bite to eat. The Man ordered the au jus sandwich. He was happily munching away when he managed, “This au jus is strange.”

I watched for a moment then replied, “You’re dipping your sandwich in your coffee.”

The sandwich wasn’t the only dippy one that day.

(Disclaimer: This message has been posted with The Man’s full knowledge and approval.)

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Middle Age

Once upon a long time ago, DSguy asked me a rather unremarkable question.

“Mom, what year were you born in?”

I told him.

He replied, “Is that in the Old Testament?”

Maybe it was a run-of-the-mill question, but the answer sure packed a wallop!

Sometimes I wonder what exactly constitutes being middle aged. I mean, I consider myself in that category, but what is the standard, anyway?

• DSguy apparently once thought I was an ancient relic of Biblical proportions.
• The Man says that I’m pretty darn close to middle aged, citing currently recognized human life expectancies as proof. Simple division. How methodical.
• A gal pal who is a bit older than I am says I’m still a spring chicken.

Wikipedia says middle age can be anywhere from 35-65, depending on which source you ask. That’s quite a spread, and yes, I fall in that range.

Just for argument’s sake, let’s say Wikipedia and The Man are correct and I am officially middle aged. I’m OK with that. It means I’m growing in wisdom and restraint, as is evidenced by the fact that DSguy is still alive after that Old Testament comment.

Lord help me if he ever decides to ask about menopause.

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Star Wars and Tongue Tied

S week is easy…S is for STAR WARS! And I’m late. I suppose since it’s actually T week, T should be for tardy. But I digress.

What to say about Star Wars? Everybody knows it, everybody loves it. (At least almost everybody I know.) Here’s a couple of my favorite Star Wars tributes:

First off, the commercial everyone is talking about…the pint-sized Darth Vader.

Genius. Somebody give that ad guy a raise.

Another stroke of pure genius…the Star Wars story set to a John Williams music medley…in four part harmony…sung by ONE guy! Love it.

Corey Vidal is the man. I need to go check out his other videos.

Getting back to T week. Besides tardy, T is also a nice fit for tongue tied.

This video cracks me up every stinkin’ time. This poor youth pastor is just doing his job, when—WHAM!—out comes an epic flub worthy of a lifetime achievement award. God bless his embarrassed heart.

Did you see his eyes bug out when he figured out what he had just said? Classic. Never fails to make me laugh.

Speaking of eyes bugging out…that reminds me of a similar flub The Man once made. We were in a small church in a rural farming community. The Man was on the platform, going through prayer requests, when he came up with this doozy.

“Let’s pray for Joe, who fell off his concubine and hurt himself.”

WHAT? Come again, city boy?

Yeah, that was supposed to be combine. “Joe” fell off his combine, as in farming implement!

Too bad that was before YouTube.

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