Can You Pass The Damn Mashed Potatoes?

I manscaped today.  Yep!  I am looking pretty well manscaped today.

I’m just kidding.  Really, I am sure that none of you have any desire to hear about the shaving of any parts of my body. 

When I started this blog one of the things I swore not to do was to get too personal with my readers.  I was not going to bring you into my pants nor into my bedroom, although I did do that once with my son finding the “lightsaber” in our bed.  But that was a story too good to pass up.

With all that has been going on, or not going on, in my life it is almost like I am out of things to write about that don’t expose me.  I like being anonymous.  I am not knocking anyone that opens up to their readers but that is just not me. 

So for me to come on here and talk about my tic tac dick or bald as a baby man area or my conquest of women all over the country when I travel, well, it is just not going to happen.  That’s just not me. 

I might open up more about my kids, more specifically, my son.  He is a pisser.  The kid just makes me laugh my ass off and has been talking some real jems lately.  For example, out of the blue, we are at the dining room table eating dinner as a family when he turns to my daughter and asks, “Can you pass the damn mashed potatoes?”

My humorless wife gave him that burning stare.  You know, the one that mothers have when they are trying to use their Superman-like heat vision to incinerate you where you stand, or in this case sit.  But he did not burn into a crisp. 

I did laugh and could not hold back.  And the boy said it with a straight face and was completely serious. 

Now I am not a huge swearer.  I try very hard not to curse in frontof the kids.  But I do slip.  So does the wife.  But for him to pick that up and use it correctly and in the right context……………… well, that is a proud poppa moment right there.

So as I get back into the habit of writing this silly little blog I think that I will keep true to myself and my goal of not getting too personal but at the same time provide you with the world as I see it.

I’ve Busted The Conspiracy

I know why I was forced to buy a hew hairbrush.

It has become the community brush.  My wife uses it, my daughter uses it and the boy is using it.

My old one was small and could fit in the medicine cabinet over the sink and the new one that I was forced to buy was large and not suitable to store anywhere but on the side of the sink or on the tank of the toilet.

I knew it was a conspiracy!  I knew that there was something more than just my wife wanting me to “update” my hairbrush.  They don’t go out of style.  It’s a hairbrush!!!!!

There are a few things that skive me.  Things that no matter what – I am just not going to share with anyone!  They include my toothbrush, underwear, bathing suit, and my hair brush! 

So you know what?  I kept my old brush.  That’s right!  I saved it!  Hid it so that others could not find it and when I discovered this nefarious little plot the family had going I pulled it back out.  I pulled it out and used it.  Yeah, so you all can go on with your bad selfs and keep using that new brush and I’ll have mine safely tuckered away. 

Momma didn’t raise no fool!