You know, behind “Because it’s a supportive thing to do,” there are secrets he could learn.
Look here. Just a boring refrigerator.
I wonder if there’s anything good in there.
Doesn’t look like it.
But wait!
False alarm. It’s just oatmeal. Heh.
I’m so sneaky.
Honestly, anyone who believes a recipe for chocolate chip cookies only makes two dozen is kind of asking for it.
Day 1
10:30 p.m.
Hey, all! Just a quick PM to let you all know I’ve decided to take a break from the board. Nothing personal. With the school year beginning, I need to focus on good habits and not spend all my time writing stupid crap with a bunch of strangers. No offense!
Please keep in touch by pm during this time. Obviously I will not be checking the board.
Day 2
7 a.m.
Hey, guys! Just me again. My break is going so well. Isn’t it funny how I don’t miss the board at all? Honestly, I feel no pull whatsoever to check it out. I am free.
So much to do today! I thought I’d share my list with you, just in case any of you might be inspired to create a list of your own. Here’s what’s on tap for my morning:
Get the kids off to school.
Wash and line dry all the sheets and towels in the linen closet while the weather is still nice.
Clean the bathrooms from top to bottom and use a toothbrush and bleach to get at the grout. I can’t believe I haven’t done that lately.
Cut up fruits and vegetables for the kids’ after-school snack.
Prepare dinner; with rolls and French silk pie.
Pack lunches for tomorrow.
Ooh, I think I’ll add a little lavender essential oil to the washing machine. Can you imagine how loved my children will feel when they fall asleep on lavender-scented sheets?
8:30 a.m.
If any of you are thinking of trying my essential oil trick, you may want to hold off. I am waiting for the washing machine repairmen to call me back.
Meanwhile, I will be taking everything out of the bathroom for a deep clean and spraying the tile with bleach water.
The pot roast is seared and cooking in the slow cooker, with vegetables. Oh, there’s the phone!
12 p.m.
I hate to ask you guys this, but would one of you mind posting on the board to find out what these workers generally charge per hour? The repairman is working on my machine, and he’s whistling “We’re in the Money.” Thanks.
While waiting, I started the dinner rolls. The oven is preheating; I will turn it off in a minute and pop the dough inside to rise. I’m blessed!
1 p.m.
Shit. Do any of you know how to clean bread dough off the inside of the oven? I forgot to turn it off and the damn thing frigging exploded. You know what, never mind. I’ll do it myself.
The repairman just told his wife they can “go ahead and enroll Junior in college.”
1:07 p.m.
OK, I’m sorry, but my thread has 37 views and only 2 responses? Damn rubberneckers. Can one of you bump that for me please? Thanks!
Also, I cannot believe what you-know-who said about you-know-what on the election thread. As if we needed to know that!
1:30
The joke is on me, I’m afraid. When I broke down and posted (just three times!) on the election thread, I didn’t even notice the storm clouds moving in. All of our sheets are wet. And dirty. And I don’t have a washing machine. The repairman just left, promising to return and laughing about how he loves special ordering foreign parts. Then he actually waggled his eyebrows at me and did the Funky Chicken on his way to the van.
I guess I have to go to the laundromat. I’ll just jump in the shower first.
2:00 p.m.
I jumped in the shower all right. Then I remembered: no soap, no shampoo. no towels. No real ventilation either. The bleach fumes made me pass out briefly, but I’m pretty sure I’m OK now. I’ll be loading the sheets and towels into the van and heading to the laundromat. I don’t want any of you to worry while I’m gone!
Also, please bump my threads if you get a chance. The bread dough one, and my election call out thread. Thanks.
4 p.m.
Walked in the door, threw the clean linens in a pile on the kitchen floor, and ran to the bus stop. Made it just in time, but sprained my ankle on the damn step.
4:45 p.m.
Shit shit shit. I did not turn on the slow cooker this morning. We are going to Wendy’s.
6:30 p.m.
Topic Title: I’m back!
Topic Starter: TwoHandsandaRoadmap
Hello again, IHMMB!
Did you miss me?
Check it out!
For anyone who doesn’t know yet, I’m doing a weeky recap of Nashville Star over at ihmmblifeandstyle.com.
Take a look here: Week Three: Pop Goes Country.
A few people feel downright noble introducing hard discussions, just on principle. “Hey, I’m a communicator. I open doors. I facilitate the tough conversations.” Facilitate this, and leave me the hell out of it.
Possible conversation starters that were never meant to be:
Are you mad at me?
I wasn‘t. Now that you’ve interrupted my morning, though, I might have to reconsider.
Believe me, I’ll bring something up if I absolutely need to. Otherwise, it’ll pass.
For the sake of argument, let’s assume I am mad at you. Why do I want to have a difficult conversation with someone I’m mad at? Shoot, maybe I don’t like you at all, in which case you should start bothering someone else.
Were you avoiding me yesterday?
Again, probably not. I just didn’t see you. Self-involved much?
Also, see “Are you mad at me?” because if I’m avoiding you, I sure as hell don’t want to talk to you now.
I just thought you should know . . .
These conversations are the worst because it’s never something you should know. It’s only about making the caller feel justified regarding something she’s done.
“I just thought you should know I told Bethany you think her hair makes her look like an orangutan. You know, because I don’t want you to feel awkward next time you see her.”
Or “I just thought you should know my daughter is having a party and your son isn’t invited. This way we can avoid any hard feelings.”
Too late, moron.
Can I have your husband’s sperm?
You are a Taker, and I’ve already written about you.
That’s about it. Some topics are better left in your mind.
I just thought you should know.
Do you screen your calls? Talk about it on the IHMMB Forums!
Note: This is part of a series. Get caught up by reading the introduction and Person #1 first!
You know how there are some people you don’t get to talk to very often? Maybe they live far away, or your schedules just don’t mesh, and when you finally DO catch each other on the phone, you have a lovely, long discussion about everything and nothing, you laugh and cry, and the time flies because you are enjoying yourself so much? Yes?
That’s not what I’m talking about here.
Chitchat Charli is the person who calls and talks forever for no good reason. Often. One topic into the other, some interesting and some not, none of which really matters; after all, it’s not like you get to talk.
For instance, even if you had something to say about the tomatoes she’s growing in her backyard, you’re not going to get to tell her, because when she’s letting you know about the yellow spots on the leaves, she suddenly remembers the spot she got on her favorite white shirt while eating pasta, and OFF she goes on a description of a restaurant she once visited in Italy.
And you know how Italy is shaped like a boot? Well she got a great pair of boots for her kid on clearance AND she had a coupon for free shipping.
Isn’t it funny that “coupon” almost rhymes with “Poupon,” but not quite? Have you ever had Grey Poupon on chicken salad? It’s really good, especially if the chicken salad has grapes . . .
And on and on.
Don’t get me wrong. She might be a very good friend. Most of the time, you probably enjoy your conversations immensely. However, when the kids are fighting, you’re trying to gather everything you need for swimming lessons, and you pick up the phone to find her on the line, you groan.
She is operating on the assumption that you have all the time in the world, and the burden is on you to convince her otherwise. Now depending on your level of friendship, you may be comfortable saying, “Hey, lady, you need to give your jaws a rest before I accidentally burn down the house.”
Or, if you’ve known her for a really long time, “Holy crap, do you ever shut up?”
However, some relationships can’t withstand that kind of honesty. And that is why I screen my calls.
From the safety of my screening status, it’s funny to notice that Chitchat Charli is just barely slowed down by the answering machine.
You know how I leave a message? It goes something like this:
“Hey, this is TwoHands. It’s Tuesday at 9 a.m. and I have a question for you. Can you give me a call when you get a minute? Thanks, bye.”
Eight seconds.
Contrast with a Chitchatter’s message:
“Hey, TwoHands, this is GumFlapper. I was just reading the paper and saw an article that I thought you might be interested in. It’s all about a scientist who . . . and found out during the study that . . . monkeys in a vacuum cleaner . . . but it did cause a rash and . . . The weather today is beautiful so you’re probably outside enjoying it . . . sunlight . . . Vitamin D . . . good for monkey rashes too! . . . anyway, give me a call and I’ll tell you about it.
YOU’LL TELL ME ABOUT IT? What the hell did you just do? You just left me a three-minute message, and now you mean to tell me there’s more? I’ll read the article myself, go out to lunch, and hit Aldi afterwards.
It will take less time.
Note: People Who Force Me To Screen My Calls is the series I began just before the writers took a hiatus. To read the introduction, check here.
Disclaimer: Out of all the people I’ll be profiling here, the Taker is the only one I truly do not like. In fact, I have cut ties with all of them in my life. So if you are from my real life, and I still talk to you, you are not a Taker. You may be one of the other types, but that’s OK. I probably am one of them too.
The Taker, as you might guess, is the person who is always, always looking for a favor and rarely wants to give one. I could talk about this person all day. First of all, let’s call her Kathy. Second, let’s pretend that’s a made up name.
Kathy is the person who always needs free childcare, but shows up 2 hours late the one time she’s supposed to watch your child.
She is the person who wants to borrow your van, and then complains when you tell her the rear latch doesn’t work. Complains!
She’s the person who tries to pressure you into going to some stupid direct sales event, where you ultimately buy all kinds of crap from her, and firmly reminds you after the fact that you owe her five dollars for attending.
The thing about the Taker is, she always has great reasons for why she should be taking and you should be giving. The world is simply out to get her. She puts her child into a Moneyssori school, buys two new cars, cancels her health insurance, and THEN feels entitled to YOUR money, goods, and services because life is so cruel to her. Incidentally, it’s also amazing how many of these people claim to be following a path of higher consciousness.
A typical Taker conversation, should you be foolish enough to engage in one, might look like this:
Me: Hello?
Taker: Hi!
Me: Oh, gosh, hi! How are you? (Holy crap, why did I answer the phone?)
Taker: Well, we’re OK. <sigh> Spouse’s freelance business isn’t going so well and I quit my job because they weren’t respecting my Person-ness as much as they were respecting the full-time employees’! Can you believe it? And we went to Friend’s first communion. Would you believe they wouldn’t let MyChild take communion simply because we’re not Catholic? Those Catholics are so offensive.
Me: Bummer. (Who knew quitting your job and not being Catholic would cause such great discrimination?)
Taker: Yes, well, anyway, I was figuring YourChild could really use a playdate with MyChild.
Me: That might be nice. (Jesus, I wonder if I’ve got enough time to tie down the valuables.) Summer is really busy for us, but we have some free time on Thursday…
Taker: How about tomorrow at 10:30 a.m.? Then I can drop her off and get to my meeting at 11.
Me: Oh, so you won’t be coming? (Is that a tightening in my chest?)
Taker: (Annoyed) No, I can’t miss this meeting! My neighbor actually had the nerve to chop down the branches of our tree that were blocking his driveway! I need to meet with the city to see if we can sue him on behalf of the tree. (Airily) Now I know this will probably interfere with YourChild’s nap, but won’t it be fun for them to get together?
Unfortunately, even screening doesn’t always deter. You can be on to them, but they’re onto you being onto them. I actually had the following message on my machine one time:
Hi, TwoHands, it’s Kathy.I am calling because I need you to do me a favor. I have a class to teach at the Enlightenment House tomorrow at 9 and I don’t have childcare. I’d need to drop her off at 8:45, but I’d probably be back around 1 p.m. If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to just assume that’s all right. You can go ahead and feed her lunch–the kids will like that! Thanks so much, bye.
I swear to you, this happened.
A few Taker facts:
Pro: Knows her own needs and isn’t afraid to advocate for them
Con: A blood-draining, hope-sucking pain in the ass.
Favorite Song: “I Am, I Said”
Favorite Movie: The home movies they demanded that you take for them of their child’s dance recital. It really is your obligation, because their poverty that resulted from Mommy & Me Meditation classes with the Dalai Llama’s first cousin’s publicist left them without any disposable income. They could have provided you with a tape to use, at least, but must you be so selfish?
Share you phone screening tips and tales in the IHMMB Forums
Hold the phone. I’ve been reading the Front Page, and I’m getting the impression that some of you people shop for enjoyment. Is this for real? Lattes and Haagen Dazs? Are you kidding me?
Those of you who are waiting for the next installment of People Who Force Me To Screen My Calls will have to wait just a bit longer, because I’m going to take you with me on my weekly grocery trip.
About 80% of my shopping is done at Aldi. It’s a quick trip, and the prices are just about unbeatable. Like I tell the kids, you can have name brands or you can have college, but you can’t have both. Incidentally, did you know Aldi is a German company? In fact, I think “Aldi” is German for “Let’s hope the neighbors don’t see you shopping here.”
Are you ready?
My shopping trip begins with a piece of paper. I find it taped to a cupboard, with a message in my husband’s handwriting: “We are out of food. Please go to the store before I leave you and take the kids.” I love a clear directive. Wait, is that written in blood? No matter, off we go!
Here we are. First, please make sure your window is rolled up before you get out of my new van. Trust me, this parking lot is no place for a lady.
Second, do you have a quarter? What? Now why are you holding out your Amex? Nevermind, I brought one. Here at Aldi, you put a quarter deposit into this little mechanism before they’ll let you have a cart. This is to keep you from taking it home or leaving it in the parking lot to bounce around like a cheerleader on prom night. When you return the cart to the corral, you get your quarter back.
So this is it, the chapel of cheapskatery. The first thing you’re going to noti–What do you mean, you want something to drink? And here I thought I left the kids at home. No, I took care of bodily needs before we left. Coffee shop inside the store? Are you kidding? If you really must have some refreshment, there seems to be a blob of gum stuck on the shelf there under the snack cakes. Better yet, suck it up and make some coffee when you get home. There, I’ve already saved you $4 and a little piece of the earth too.
On the left you will see a giant sized bag of cheesy puffs for 99 cents. Put it in the cart. It’s not organic, but there are no trans fats or Red #40, and it will help you pack lunches for a week. Those are my standards. Brown rice and carrot puffs? I buy brown rice, and I buy carrots, but I do not buy them puffed up with large amounts of air. What a clever marketing idea, though!
Come to think of it, let’s not spend too much time on specific food recommendations. Instead, I’ll put the food into my cart and you go look for the gourmet ice cream. I think it’s next to the truffles. (That should keep you out of my hair for a while. Hope you don’t come across that rude stockboy with the attitude problem.)
Sir? Sir, I’m so sorry, could you let her through? I don’t know, Sir. I think she’s looking for the truffles. It IS funny, isn’t it? I apologize. Yeah, I probably will leave her at home next time.
While you’re gone, I am going to do this crazy thing I call “put the items you want to eat in the shopping cart and get the hell on with your life.” That’s it. That’s why I’m here. I have children to pick up from school later and a house to keep up, and this trip is simply a utilitarian experience. It takes 20 minutes, max, and I head to the checkout.
I know it’s a lot to take in. How about you just meet me back at the van when you stop hyperventilating? I’ll probably unlock the door for you.
I’m not always on the can when the phone rings, but the timing does seem to be more than coincidental. I also might be bandaging a kid’s knee or hooking up an undergarment. Something that takes two hands and is, in the confines of polite society, a time-sensitive endeavor. Braless and covered in Bactine is a state I’d rather not prolong.
Still, I jump and start to worry. It could be my older child’s school. It could be my husband. I take care of business quickly and start a process I’ve come to dislike intensely.
Find the phone. Follow the ring. Be the phone.
Screw that. Too practical for a zenlike search, I listen for while running around the house with one arm out, like that Heisman Trophy guy, because any second my younger child (who never really gives much thought to what’s in his path) is likely to take a corner at a tear and slam his preciously hard little head right into my kidneys.
There it is!
OK, that one is completely dead, and it gets chucked over my shoulder. (I vaguely hear things falling off the end table but keep focused on my task.)
Where is the other phone?
Why, right next to where the first one was, of course. That’s why we bought two phones, after all: so we could have one on the main floor and the other right damn next to it. Money well spent.
Finding the second phone, kidneys still intact, I don’t even answer. Instead, I stand next to the machine waiting for the message.
Some might think this is a long way to go to go to screen my calls, and I would agree. However, there are those out there who make it necessary. Over the next few weeks I will be introducing you to the people who force me to screen my calls.
Tomorrow, I will tell you about Person #1: The Taker. I’m pretty sure you’ve got one in your life. If not, you probably are the Taker in someone else’s. Try not to worry about it too much.
While you wait to hear, leave a comment and tell me why you screen your calls, or why you don’t.
