Blurbs from the Burbs by Chickysara

I think I am finally recovered from Easter. We had brunch at my house with my family. There are probably more than twenty of us with all the kids. Me, The Husband, our little boys, J and T, my big boys, Bert and Topher, my parents, sisters, aunt, and uncle, cousins, nephews, and nieces. It was so lovely to see everyone and the day was perfect. Except-- Except, The Husband and I got into a squabble about the ham. What happened was The Husband smoked the ham for six hours in his antiquated Weber, and then I wanted brown sugar on it which is how my mom used to buy it from the fancy Ham Store when I was growing up. For some reason he balked at a sugared ham and when I pressed for it, he threw up his hands and said, “Then do whatever you want to it.” Then he stood and watched me--the bad cook in the marriage--try to make a crust of brown sugar on the ham by slapping big handfuls of sugar onto it and trying (unsuccessfully) to make it stick. When I was getting ready to put it in the oven, he...

Sam Le Roy is J’s dog. He is not a real dog. The Husband says we can’t have a real dog or anything else that poops. We have a cat and The Husband is on cat-poop detail because after the kids were born, I thought it was only fair that he had to clean someone else’s poop too. J asked for a dog and his request was duly rejected even after he promised to clean up any dog poop (yeah right). So J sort of kidnapped Sam Le Roy. Sam Le Roy actually belonged to my sister, Deeva, and his name was not really Sam Le Roy. I think it was Harold, after the semi-professional basketball player she was dating at the time who, by the way, gave her Sam Le Roy (then Harold) as a gift. That is why he wears a basketball jersey and sneakers, and if you squeeze his right paw he says “Woof Woof! (pant pant pant pant) Woof Woof!” and if you squeeze his left paw he says in a very deep voice: “Why you just sittin’ there lookin’ at me? Pet me. Squeeze me. Love me. Do somethin’ Girl!” So, one afternoon, t...

I talked The Husband into taking me and the kids to the mall the other weekend. He hates the mall but because he loves me and I’m a bully, he went. To make it worth his while we had lunch at the food court. I think he understands now that lunch at the food court with the kids is not the party he might have thought it was. It's not fun when one kid will only eat Orange Chicken from Panda Express, or as J calls it "Panic Express," and the other one will only eat food that isn't touching any other food, which is exactly the opposite of everything at "Panic Express." So after lunch, I went to get a makeover at the Macy's counter. This young guy who looked like Joan Jett basically spent 40 minutes fixing my face. He started off with something called a "primer." This must be something like the stuff you put on a car before you paint it. I'm not sure why, but I guess to cover up dings and dents and scratches? Then he applied two kinds of creme ba...

Claire came over to visit today. Since she moved out of state, I don't see her much at all and it's horrible because by all counts we should be living next door to each other. But when we do get together it's always like we just saw each other yesterday. Claire and I have been best friends since we were five years old, and she has always been my best and most solid friends for years and years and years and will be foreverandever amen. If I haven't scared her off by now, I can't see how it will end. Claire is one of those selfless people who is so good she really should be sainted. When we were little she would always let me play with her Ballerina Barbie --no questions asked--which was the Barbie at the time. I had Beach Tan Barbie which was definitely not the Barbie because, being a beach bum, she lacked the glamour and pizazz that show biz had bestowed upon Ballerina Barbie. Beach Tan had straight, stringy, bleached locks and a red tank suit that rode right up he...