It's been a rather uneventful week here in the Mobley household, mostly waiting around for my Precious to feel better. This cold from the pit has been hanging on with all its viral might and has now added a rattly cough to the fever, sore throat and runny nose it originally thrust upon my sweet boy. Sadness. Phil thought he seemed to be feeling a smidge better this afternoon, so we celebrated with an extremely white trash visit to Wal-Mart. Let me paint this picture for you: Phil and I were both wearing workout pants and ratty t-shirts; I had on no makeup and was holding stringy hair out of my face with a clip on the side of my head; we were strolling a baby with a crusty nose; we drove an old blue Buick (Lupe) that was (is) covered in pollen and bird droppings and is missing the passenger-side mirror (I knocked it off backing out of the garage); we were shopping for vacuum cleaner bags. Phil and I walked the aisles together discussing ways we could actually make the outing less classy. Here's what we came up with:
- begin the shopping experience with a biggie-sized meal from the in-store McDonald's
- add cigarettes and Vienna Sausages to the shopping list
- cut my t-shirt into a mid-drift
- pay for the vacuum bags with a couple of sweaty bills pulled from my bra
- have a loud argument at the check-out about whether or not we can afford the Vienna Sausages
Do you ever catch yourself doing strange things or having bizarre conversations and wonder if you're the only one ever in the universe to do such things? Let me fabricate a totally fake and made up situation for you, and you tell me whether you would ever do something like it. Let's say a couple nights ago, this couple sat at the dinner table talking to each other for quite some time with extreme underbites because they thought it was funny how thrusting your jaw out makes you talk like a hick. (Really, it does. Try it.) Then when they got tired of that, maybe they had a conversation that went like this:
Misty: Where on your list of things to be, employment-wise, would you rank beekeeper?
Bill: About 67th percentile.
Misty: Is a higher percentile good or bad?
Bill: Bee keeper would fall in the bottom third of my list of things to be.
Misty: Gotcha. How about deli-meat slicer at Kroger?
Bill: Um, that would be pretty low. Even lower than beekeeper.
Misty: How about someone who scrapes up roadkill?
Bill: Don't they have robots that do that now?
Misty: (laughing heartily at Bill's naivety) Robots?! Sure, honey .... OK, how 'bout nude dancer?
Bill: Ooooh, that'd be awesome. I'd rank that between astronaut and United Nations ambassador.
So anyway, you get the idea. What do you think? Could this be you and a loved one on any given Thursday night?
10 comments:
I find it very interesting that Misty and Bill rhymes with Christy and Phil. Hmm. I know these people named Tallie and Pavid that have similar discussions sometimes involving how much someone would have to pay them to eat poop.
Isn't that what Walmart is for?
I totally know what you're going through with the cold. It's so frustrating that they can't have meds. FYI, saline drops weren't worth the trouble.
And as for weird conversations, we scare ourselves sometimes :)
This is classic, Christy. We're so glad you're our friends. My personal favorite mental picture is the stringy hair with the side clip. And it's so very appropriate that the side mirror met its doom. Who wants an old Buick with all its mirrors intact? No character there whatsoever.
Tell you what, when we come home, let's make a date for family pictures and biggie fries at the Wal-Mart!
If you have your family picture taken AT the Wal-Mart, would you pose with your biggie fries as well?
Don't be dissing Biggie Fries. They happened to get me through both my pregnancies and I will defend them with all my viral might. Sorry, Christy, I loved that phrase--I just had to find a way to use it.
My personal contribution to this wonderful classy outing is Phil's old Cowboy hat. If either of you had worn that it would have been awesome.
Do you know how many times we knocked the side mirror off the Saturn by hitting the mailbox? At least 3. J knows a wholesale car place to get mirrors, if Bill...I mean, Phil is interested (or you--I'm not sexist, I just know it makes men feel manly to mess around with car mirrors).
I sometimes wonder if the people who know us would continue to admit knowing us if they heard our conversations when we're alone.
Oh, and there's nothing more 'trashy' than riding around in my Explorer with the passenger door duct-taped on temporarily due to the fact I ran into my garage. Yes, you ask, how can one run into their own garage? I blame it on the pregnancy. I side swiped the garage doorpane as I was pulling in. I only wish I had lost just the side mirror :-)
And your trip to WM might have been fun if you'd had some sugar wafers hidden in your sweater, too.
Since I have to return to school tomorrow and actually do some work, you will need to write at least five posts per day between the hours of 8am and 3pm. This will keep me entertained while I'm ignoring the children and letting them write on each other with permanent markers. Thanks!
These comments have made me laugh out loud! Thank you all for being my friends.
Sallie - I'm very interested in the poop discussion. Tallie and Pavid would have to give me more details before I could settle on a price. And I'm so sorry you have to go back to school. Blast. And I've been meaning to e-mail you back - really! - and I will. But first I have to sanitize all my carpets and do something with a roast. Oh my heavens, I've got to be at least 120 years old ...
Eowyn - I think that's totally what Wal-Mart is for. We fit right in. And if your conversations are anything like the dreams you used to tell the class about in 4th grade ... :-)
Rhi - it's a date! Do they have biggie fries in Thailand? Or do you have to settle for biggie ape knuckles or something?
Georgia - I think my car is more hoopdy than yours, even with the duct tape. Love the thought of asking the WM photographer to wait while I position the fries just so in Andrew's arms.
Gill - love the use of "viral might." And Phil and I were just talking about that hat! He's got to bring that back into circulation.
Erin - I keep trying to take out our neighbor's mailbox. I know they'd appreciate that. I'm actually missing my side mirror more than I thought. And I have no desire to be a super woman and figure out how to put another one on there - am happy to let manly Phil work on that. :-) I'll give you a call if we get to feeling energetic.
I have to roll down my window to let myself out of my car! The door won't open from the inside.
Tallie - you disgust me. Good thing your last name is changing soon, so people won't know we're related.
Bill - The conventional meaning of "67th percentile" would mean "Beekeeper is higher on the list than two thirds of the jobs out there." But if you're ranking job dissatisfaction, rather than satisfaction, well I guess it makes sense.
- Zeff
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