Blonde (blond?) moments

I can't remember if blonde is spelled blonde or blond, and I could look it up and not embarrass myself but I feel like the point of this post is about how I have become stupider (more stupid?) these last five years, so looking something up would feel like cheating.

Blond moment #1-

We met a friend at the park yesterday (The park was PACKED, I have never seen a playground so busy. And why do people bring their asshole ten-year-olds to the park? Just so they can run around and play violent games of tag, knocking small children over with every turn? They were all very lucky I didn't have a taser.)

So to avoid the madness, we went over the the lake to look at the ducks and geese. There was a kid there with his grandpa, and his grandpa told the kid to show our kids the fish he caught (he actually said 'Show the boy the fish you caught.), but I'm twisting the story to make it less sexist. So I say...

Wait for it....

Brace yourself...

'Did you catch that here?'

I know. I don't know why I said it. I immediately followed up with an apology for such a stupid question, but it still doesn't mean I didn't ask it. And that was honestly my first thought, Did he catch that HERE? At a LAKE? He didn't buy it at the pet store, grow it in his tank at home, bring it to the lake alive, put it on fishing line, and hang it in the lake just to impress strangers? You never know...

Blonde moment #2-

The kids are WAY into spelling, so much that my life has basically become one continuous spelling bee. It can be easy yet completely random like 'How do you spell turkey?' or hard and best answered with a glass of wine in hand to calm the nerves, ' Mom, B E R E N S T A I N B E A R S G O T O S C H O O L B Y S T A N A N D J A N B E R E N S T A I N S C H O L A S T I C what'sthatspell? It's about on par with potty training on the sliding scale of parenting tasks that make me want to kill myself. And potty training was the defining event that wiped my ovaries clean of any desire to have any more children, so...

So on Friday:
Penny- 'Mom, whats P U S H spell?'
Me- Push
Penny- What's P U S spell?
Me- Puss (I know)

Luckily she didn't ask what Puss meant, and it just became a funny story for me to tell Jamie yesterday. Until he pointed out that P U S spells PUS. Like the oozing grossness that comes out of ingrown hairs and not the crude term for the vagina.

So embarrassing. But luckily I'm married to a kind man who would never make fun of his wife for an honest spelling mistake, and not look up the definitions of both pus and puss on his phone and follow her around the house until she looked at it. Such a blessing, that husband of mine.

In non-blond moment news, I thought I had Jamie talked into hiring movers instead of asking our friends for help, but that idea is quickly losing appeal with him. =( So if you want to help us move, just 'like' this when I post it on facebook. And if you don't want to help us move, leave a comment about how this is the BEST blog yet and I am so talented, beautiful, smart, funny, kind, and sensual. TIA!