Thursday, March 27, 2014

I Hope You Are Wrong


This was the fortune of the girl who just moments before rubbed a forkful of noodles on her face. This was the fortune of the girl who prompted me to say, "Hang on! You've got a noodle on your elbow." This was the fortune of the girl who about 5 minutes before prompted me to say, "Seriously, you don't have to take off your shoes to pee...or all of your clothes."

I hope you're wrong, fortune cookie.  For the sake of parents everywhere, I hope you are wrong.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

About That Day I Talked To The FBI

“A Special Agent with the FBI is trying to get a hold of you,” said my father-in-law over the phone.

Damn it!  I knew I shouldn’t have recorded that VHS of Batteries Not Included! They were not kidding with those warnings. I should have known it was only a matter of time before the law caught up with me.

“He said it was in regards to your purse that was stolen 2 years ago.”

Oh. Guess the slammer will have to wait.

Two years ago we were in the middle of selling our house. I got a call for a last minute showing.  I loaded up the kids and dog and we went to the park for about 30 minutes. Sometime in that 30 minutes someone broke the window and stole my purse out of the car. I reported it to the police but nothing ever came of it. They did try to cash a check using my identity. I was told that there had been several reports of this type of activity and they suspected a gang of some sort.

Fast forward to this week. I was thinking they were going to tell me they caught the perp. (That’s how they talk.  I know…I watch Law & Order.) I was thinking they were going to ask me to testify. I had it all planned. I would bring down the house with a “You can’t handle the truth” speech that I would deliver with emotion and tears that did not smear my make-up.

I called and was ready to do whatever was asked of me. Go undercover, wear a wire, get my cousin Vinny to…wait, I think I’m getting confused. Anyway, I was psyched.

“Hi!  This is Sabine Brown. You were trying to get a hold of me in regards to my purse that was stolen 2 years ago?”
“Yeah, do you remember where you filed that police report?”
I told him.  I waited for the ask that would require great bravery but be necessary for the good of mankind.
“Well…that was all I really needed…thanks.”

No witness protection or nothin’. Well that was anti-climactic. I guess I’ll save my Jack Nicholson moment for when they finally catch up to me for that illegal copy of Batteries Not Included.



Friday, March 21, 2014

Spring Break 2014, Y'all!

I’ve been a bit quiet again because I was out of town…again. This time it was crazy. We went on a 3-day trip with our good friends. Spring Break 2014 ya’ll!



It wasn’t Cancun. That’s weak. It wasn’t Padre. Padre ain’t got nothin’ on this insane spring break. Nope. Great Wolf Lodge and Legoland, bitches! And that ain’t even all…the aquarium (boom!) and the Perot Museum of Nature and Science (BOOM!).

It was a wild ride.

This Spring Break had everything…giant legos, tiny legos, Princess karaoke, lazy rivers, and tiny people in wet swimsuits that needed to pee. There were serenades of Let It Go. There were 3-year olds telling knock-knock jokes. There were creepy and slightly offensive animatronics of Native Americans and forest animals.

The parties went well into the wee hours past 9:00 and the Capri-Suns were flowing.

I know all you college kids thinks you party the hardest, but this is Spring Break 2014 Great Wolf Lodge style and you can’t hang.





Friday, March 14, 2014

Wonderfully Weird Portland

Portland has been on my dream destination list.  My BFF Ann and I have talked about going for a while now. We like to eat, our husbands are picky eaters, and Portland seems like a dream for anyone with working taste buds. When we remembered our good friend Sara from high school lived there it became a must. Plus Sara just had an adorable baby and who can turn down adorable babies, food, and friends?

We booked a flight and last week we were off. First sign that Portland is a different kind of town?  The airport has a bike assembly area.  I love my city of Tulsa but if our airport had an assembly area for something it would be for guns or novelty fart toys.

We hopped on the MAX to meet our friend Sara at her work.  The man sitting behind us on the train was also from out of town.  He gave himself away with his southern drawl and his uncontained excitement when we passed a Panda Express.

Ann and I found the correct address only walking about 50 feet in the wrong direction.  If you know Ann and I you will know that that is quite an accomplishment for us.  Sara took off of work and her and her partner, Lena spent the next four days showing us their city.

Some of my favorite things about Portland…

Shopping. Portland takes “shop local” to a whole new level.  Sara took us to a boutique the first day.  She knew the owner and all about the owner.  The owner knew all the designers of the clothes she sold personally.  It is not uncommon for the shopkeepers to introduce themselves and in one instance, their dog.

The Green Bean bookstore is a children's bookstore that has both a finger puppet and fake mustache vending machine.  Ann modeling some of the fine finger puppet selections.

And speaking of pets-miniature goats. People have them as pets. They walk them on leashes.  How do you not love a city with miniature goats?  You don’t.  That is the answer.  You don’t.

The food.  Oh glorious Portland food!  Name a diet, any diet, and you can find a restaurant to accommodate you.  Vegetarian, vegan, carnivore, whatever…you name it, they got it.  I ate at a restaurant with nothing but pies, savory and sweet, and another that specialized in biscuits.  All those trendy places that specialize in one very particular food or have taken normal food and miniaturized it and made it handheld, it’s people like me that keep those places in business. At one of my favorite restaurants they even allowed dogs (actually not uncommon there) and had a menu for them.  I’m not sure about the goats though.  I think they’re still stuck with grass.

Voodoo Donuts
Picture by Ann Pinson


Powell’s bookstore.  It’s a bookstore that takes up almost an entire city block.  Nuff said.

It's so big it requires a map.  A very large map.
Picture by Ann Pinson

It’s weirdness.  I mean this in the best possible way.  I had always heard of the “Keep Portland Weird” bumper stickers, but now I have a whole new understanding of it.  You really have no idea what you may run into.  Man with a music stand in an open field playing the accordion? Check.  Man with a beak mask with a clothespin on it? Check.  Woman with a helmet and goggles, clown driving a van and singing over a loudspeaker?  Check and check.  Portland embraces humanity in all of its wacky forms and it’s beautiful.

Portland Japanese Garden
Photo by Ann Pinson

I could go on and on.  I could talk about the Japanese garden, the public parks, the colorful houses, the trees, etc. but I will end with this… the friendship.  I know, I know…I’m being sappy, but I got to hang out with my best friend for forever, my other friend who I have so wonderfully reconnected with, and I met my friends partner and made a new friend. In addition, Sara’s daughter thinks I’m hilarious when I do fake sneezing and pretend she has stinky feet, so I’m going to count her as a pint-sized new friend as well.   So really, what’s better than that?  Nothing.  The answer is nothing.




Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Maybe You Touched Your Genitals

This week has been a wee bit nutty for various reasons, so I haven't yet put together a blog post about my recent trip to Portland. FYI-Portland rocks. Why? Two words-miniature goats. Two more words-pie restaurant. Two more words...well, you get the point. So as I gather my thoughts on the awesomeness that was Portland into an actual post I will leave you with this picture from my trip. Because...well...maybe you touched your genitals?

Portland has a strong history of supporting local businesses and producers so I feel confident that this bottle of Maybe You Touched Your Genitals was made and packaged in Oregon and intended for Oregonian genital-touchers.



Monday, March 3, 2014

Creativity, Boogers, and Dental Hygiene

Creativity is a virtue I hold in high regard.  I admire it in others and try to cultivate it in my own children. I want to encourage their creative minds when they bubble up, but sometimes it appears in strange ways.

Exhibit A.

Both of my kids go to swim school once a week. At swim school they sell cookies. Sometimes I get them one after lessons, sometimes I do not. Kenzie began asking me about whether we would be getting a cookie from the moment she realized it was swim class day. When we got in the car to drive there and she still couldn’t get me to commit, she tried this tactic.

“Momma, I have a booger in my teeth,” she told me.
“A booger? In your teeth.”
“Yes. I can’t get it out. Can you get it?”
“I can’t get the booger out of your teeth while I’m driving the car.”  I would say about once a day I have a wow-that-really-just-came-out-of-my-mouth moment. That was the moment.
“I think I need a chocolate chip cookie. I think the cookie will get the booger out of my teeth.

Now this is just smart. Four out of five dentists will tell you that boogers are worse for tooth enamel than coffee, red wine, and certainly worse than chocolate chip cookies. One out of five dentists is a booger eater. Incidentally, booger-eating dentists are the reason we are hounded about our flossing habits every 6 months. It’s the guilt.

Anyway, we got a cookie that day. Anyone willing to eat her own booger or to just come up with that excuse deserves a cookie in my book.

No boogers in those teeth.  (And don't worry, I was parked when I took this picture.)