True Story

{February 23, 2011}   I know… Be Nice

True Story:  3 year olds are geniuses.

If you even remotely scold G Monkey or ask him if he pooped his pants, his response is, “I know… Be nice”.

I am not sure who taught him that if he would just be “nice” everything else would go away, including dirty undies.

Once again, I have decided to adopt the 3-year-old mindset.


1)  If I ram somebody’s car with mine:  Drive away while yelling “I know… Be nice”.

2)  Girl:  You are flirting with my man.

Me:  I know… Be nice…

Walk away.

3)  Bank Teller:  You are overdrawn.

Me:  I know… Be nice… 

Drive away.

True Story: 

Mommy:  Quit all that. I’m tired of listening to it.

G Monkey:  But Mommy… I got my whine-nies….

I think this could apply to many areas of my life as well.

{February 18, 2011}   You Can’t Make it Up

True Story:  I write non-fiction, autobiographical stories because Truth is most definitely stranger than fiction.

Example:  If I were to make up a story about a crazy football fan that poisoned 150 year old trees on a college campus because he hated trees so much? Schools? Football players? I don’t know. I haven’t decided that part of the story yet.

You wouldn’t believe me. You would say, “That’s stupid. No one would do that. It doesn’t even make any sense”.

True Story:  Last night I went to hear an amazing blues singer with a voice like butter that plays a mad mouth harp. In the last couple of months he had part of one leg amputated, and the bar manager had checked him out of Rehab for the night to play for us. She had to have him back by midnight.

{February 6, 2011}   Poopy and Turtles

True Story:  A grown woman should probably not dream about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Yet, I did. Which is strange because I never watched the show and it’s been 20 years since I’ve seen one. So, why was my dream the other night filled with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?


True Story:  Still potty training.

So with Mommy and Daddy out of town for 2 weeks at Sundance, G Monkey regressed a little bit with the Nanny and all of the changes he was experiencing.

He still is just too busy to stop and go to the potty for #2. He has videos to watch, animals and trains to play with. There is just no time in the day for excretion and personal hygiene.

So yesterday, I noticed that he needed to go. I grabbed him and put him on the potty.

We had a talk: You’re going to be 4 this year; no more poopy the pants; Mommy’s going to start taking videos away; you know better; I’ll pause your program while you go, yada yada…


Me:  Yea G Monkey! I am so proud of you. You are such a big boy. Give me high-five…. You know what? I am so proud, I think I am going to give you a prize.

G Monkey:  That’s a great idea Mommy. I wonder what it should be? What do you think?

True Story:  I think these kids are on to us…

{February 4, 2011}   Excerpts from Sundance

True Story:  I just spent 12 nights in Park City, UT. The following are excerpts from this trip:

The hot tub was really cool the first couple of nights, then it went out of style, and then came back in style at the end of our stay.

Hot tubs make me puffy.

It takes 4 days to acclimate from sea level to 8,000 feet.

During strip poker only one guy got down to his compass. No, you dirty birds. He actually wears a compass around his neck under his clothes.

I had 9 people sleeping in my bedroom on at least 1 night.

“Everybody snores, but you take it to a whole new level. You’re sleeping in the closet”.

“Hey, James Franco and Scorses’ daughter just walked in at sat on the front row of your premier”.

The buses are free.

“Text me where you land on Main Street”.

“Well, we’re drunk again”.

“Can someone call somebody and see what we are supposed to be doing”.

“Has anybody seen my…”

“Who did you see today”?     “Danny Glover”.     “Cool”.

$213 for a Doctor to write me a scrip for an antibiotic for a bacterial infection probably caught from the hot tub… No out-of-state insurance allowed.

Again, I don’t think there is anything wrong with this country’s health care system… Sarcasm raining.

“Cheers to Prairie Love”!     “TO PRAIRIE LOVE”!!!

On the plane ride over, Ex-Pump is reading aloud to me from Entertainment weekly:

Ex-Pump:  The Hang Over 2 set was so hot and miserable that all types of “douche-baggery” ensued.

Me:  What? Douche-baggery? Let me see that.

I look over his shoulder to read.

Me:  It’s “debauchery”

True Story:  Douche-baggery was the theme of the festival. Anytime anyone was acting up, they were causing lots of douche-baggery.

et cetera