Wednesday, October 29, 2008

"OH BOO" moment 102908

Phaser Blasted Alarm Clock! - Click here for the most popular videos

y'all know that i love nancpop so much that it makes my hair hurt. he's quite perhaps the MOST thoughtful person on the planet.

last night before retiring we informed him that there was no school today and we were all sleeping in so PUHLEEEEEEEEEEZE don't set any of our alarm clocks, 'kay? "'kay." he responded.

he arose at 5:00 a.m. as he's overseeing a very large concrete pour this morning. his usual routine is to get up and walk 12 feet across the room to turn off the alarm, set the alarm for my awakening (which he wasn't supposed to do this morning), hit the terlet, shave, dress, come downstairs, put on the weather channel (i'm thinking he has a little something for one of the weather girlz *;]), turn on the coffee pot, take two cups out of the cupboard, write a love note to me on a napkin, turn my cup over onto the note, sit down, put his socks and boots on, pour himself a go cup of coffee, put the rest of the coffee into the carafe, go outside and warm up his truck, come back in, grab his lunch i so lovingly prepare before retiring the night before...then he's off like a bra in a drive-in.

flash forward - 6:30 a.m. - WHAH-WHAH-WHAH-WHAH-WHAH-WHAH! me startled and wondering who moved the gun from behind the nightstand by the bed as i FALL out of bed trying to get to the alarm clock 12 feet away! i get there and manage to NOT throw it on the floor and do it a good stomping.

i-i-i'll be okay. it's probably a very good time to come downstairs and get some coffee and call to thank him for letting me sleep in. so i do.

i say, "hey, thankx for setting the alarm for me." him, "oh, no problem babe." me, "no, really - i really, really want to thank you." him, "you're welcome, babe." me, "you're kidding, right?" him, "why...OH BOO! you wanted to sleep in!"

yeah, he was haunted. my work here is not finished and this little episode reminds me of something else.

this guy's talking to one of his friends and says to him, "my girlfriend's breaking up with me." the friend, "why?" the guy, "she says i never pay enough attention to her or something like that..."

Sunday, October 26, 2008

"OH BOO" MOMENT #091509

one of those drug commercials was just on the tube. no, not the "reptile dysfunction" sort - the "alzheimer's" sort.

so i turn to my family and i say, in no uncertain terms - when i get alzheimer's, please just let me be; leave some post-its on the table with my instructions for the day; lock me in from the outside and i'll be okay.

pop responds, "it's okay, babe - we already have a plan."

...oh boo...

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Friday, October 17, 2008

"oh boo" moment 040408

here awhile back, zgirl wanted to make "chocolate/peanut butter/no-bake" cookies - i said, "sure."

as she was spooning the mixture out onto waxed paper, she said, "mama, i'm going to make a couple that look like "turds" for pop, okay?" me, "whatever...".

she put them into the fridge to help them set and when pop got home, he proceeded to put them into ziploc baggies and snickered, "correct me if i'm wrong, but do some of these cookies look just like turds?"

i responded, "yup, zgirl thought you'd like them that way."

he laughed, "that's my baby girl!"

...oh boo...

going to the cabin this afternoon - y'all be good.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008


although i do not remember the exact date, i do recall it must have been about this time of year many, many years ago - 20+ perhaps...maybe more...

pop was openly flirting with me amidst some friends and i said something to him to shut him down while waving my hand at him in a shoo manner.

needless to say, it was less than a year before we were together as a "couple". when we fell head first into love, he told me that when i said what i said to him way back when, "i was HAUNTED! it was like OH BOO!"

he still gets "haunted" and it's been the best ride. my heart is so full of him that i could burst at any given point during each and every day.

longrange saw the first recordings of our family "oh boo" moments and i thank warren for relinquishing his otherwise fine blog to my silliness.

what will follow in the days, weeks, months and hopefully years to come will be a ride y'all'll (yes, i know it's not a real word) enjoy as much as i've come to enjoy and treasure over time.

provided we're not overwhelmed with them, i'll be posting a new "oh boo" moment and a reprisal from longrange on a weekly basis. feel free to share your own!

NOTES: if you do not see yourself on the BBLOG list, please let me know if you'd like to be added - i originally had about 40 blogs in there and somehow lost them all by not saving as i went along - could they make this any easier?


here awhile back...

while at church one sunday morning, it came time to ask the congregation if they had any special needs or knew of anyone with special needs that we could pray for.

many of the people had requests and the pastor was about to go into prayer when our little zgirl raised her hand and the pastor called out her name and asked what or who she was asking for a prayer.

she stood up and said that her friend's aunt was going into the hospital for surgery and she needed prayer. the pastor asked her, "what is her condition so we can pray properly for her?" our zgirl ever so somberly replied, "i don't really know, but they said she has VERY CLOSE VEINS."

...oh boo...


"oh boo" moment #1

The Great Porte Cochere Incident of 6/4/6

For those of you who do not know what a porte cochere is, you will find out by the end of this post. Please, if you do not know, don’t be tempted to look it up; conversely, if you do know, please don’t spoil it for others. The porte cochere is not only a structure designed to keep you dry and in the shade while entering your home - the French had something entirely different in mind when they came up with this little gem. I’ll let you in on what it is a little later.

First a side story.

Our son informed me on our way to the new residence with the wonderful porte cochere that it is really a shame when people feel they must put words with music and that the words just ruin the music. All this while I was rocking out on Christian salsa artists “Salvador”! Shamed by his statement, I turned it down and we played a game of “I’ll say the name of a musical instrument and you tell me what type of music it is most commonly played to.” Oh joy! After about five minutes of that, I’d had enough and let him know it!

Sooooo, he began talking about how great it is to now have a house with a marvelous porte cochere. After about five minutes of that, I’d had enough and started blasting the salsa again! Awhile later when we were almost home to the house with the blessed porte cochere something so defining came across my mind and so much so that I could not shake the feeling and I’ll explain later…

But before that, another side story.

I don’t know about the rest of the women who may come to visit here, but my husband WILL NOT allow me to drive him ANYWHERE! He complains about female drivers incessantly and so much so that sometimes it hurts my feelings, but instead of disagreeing vehemently, I allow him his rant. I remind him that in 35+ years of driving, I’ve scraped the side of a vehicle on a phone pole pulling out of a tight spot (the pole’s fault), was rear ended by a speeding teen while backing out of a driveway in a school zone (the teen’s fault), have hit one deer and one rabbit (definitely their faults).

Okay, back to the story of the wonderful porte cochere.

As we approached our new weekly residence, I waved my schweetie and daughter on as I was stopping at a convenience store for ice and soda. All the while I was hoping my husband would just back up to the almighty porte cochere and I in turn would back up to it and we could simultaneously unload our rigs without getting in each other’s way - and - on first appearance pulling into the drive it looked as though that’s just what he had done - I was wrong…

The look on Evan’s face was enough to tell me something didn’t go quite right as she ran up to my rig with a worried look, chattering something like, “Pop said the EFF word - TWICE!” There was glass everywhere and the refrigerator in the back of the spanking new company truck looked like a wrinkled soda can and I had five ice chests full of cold and frozen food to put into it! How could he do this to me?

This is where the now hated porte cochere comes into play. It seems my other half tried to pull ALL THE WAY into the dreaded porte cochere with the fridge loaded up against the rear window of his pick-up (that’s what you call them after their first accident). No, really, really. Well, nix that idea! I knew immediately to not say a word and just put the ice on the beer. After awhile the silence was deafening, and as Evan kept mumbling to me about the “EFF” word and how pop had said it - TWICE - I could honestly not help myself and started cracking jokes about the “incident”.

Actually, I was backing up to the columns around the now not-so-handsome porte cochere, scratching my back while LMAO! When he’d had enough and we were sitting down to a cold one, he gently said to me with that look only we women know, “Babe, could we please not talk about this anymore? You’re in the birdcat (I corrected him to catbird) seat on this and you smirking isn’t helping.” And, I relented ONLY after demanding he take back what he’d been saying about female drivers! It was his turn to relent.

I believe these “incidents” occur to show us mercy for others as in none of us is exempt from making stupid moves. Well, except for me of course and I pointed this out to him. Why does he always nod and smile a lot at me?

Now, to top this story off. Mind you, I was five miles away from him when the “incident occurred, but apparently it was my fault. Or so he says. It appears I made a comment to him before we left and he said he couldn’t get it out of his mind and was distracted upon impact. Yeah, it was my $166.00 mistake and quite possibly a new fridge before too long.

The once powerful porte cochere has now become a carport with a dent in it. Those pesky French…

originally published on june 6, 2006 at longrange. please forgive any grammatical and/or spelling errors.

an experiment: sydney brooke simpson