tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15630150862006584302024-03-05T11:52:37.857-08:008ZENUFF Family BlogAngela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-75060104469195029702015-06-24T00:00:00.000-07:002015-06-24T00:00:07.428-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
All are created equal in my house. That being said, my two youngest were fighting over a crochet hook. No...not to use as weapons, but to actually crochet!<br />
<br />
Isaiah fell to the floor first and gave Julius a patronizing chuckle, "Whoa! Dude when did you get so tall?" Julius being the very literal guy he is said, "I'm not...I'm just mad!" <br />
<br />Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-10477549610310762002015-06-17T00:00:00.000-07:002015-06-17T00:00:10.206-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Conversation with my mother yesterday! LOL! I have to write these down
as soon as they happen, because this woman gives me so much to work with
some days!</b><br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mom:</b> Oh, when Paul was here I gave him a box for <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=649603775" href="https://www.facebook.com/jennalindsayxoxo">Jenna</a>. The kids left some stuff when they were here visiting.<br /> <b>Me</b>: Okay, I think I saw some stuff around.<br />
<b>Mom</b>: Well, there are just the girls' hairbrushes and a few odds and
ends, but I wanted to make sure Aubrey got her Little Kitty bikini
bottoms.<br /> <b>Me:</b> Little Kitty?<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <b>Mom:</b> Oh, I said that wrong...Miss. Kitty.<br /> <b>Me:</b> Mom, Miss. Kitty is from Gunsmoke. Hello Kitty?<br /> <b>Mom:</b> Yes! That's the one! <br /> <b> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text_exposed_show"><b>LOL!</b></span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-33948455567385553182015-06-10T00:00:00.000-07:002015-06-10T00:00:14.235-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-yZVyuhQktFCEevLlQKA3hyzffHuyA-ueBEAZHAR1l2MkqpFeeqjEXle5gADZ0qdO3qGNDmvCHL_kmgDYaAZRjDLrpASOaXJ-zcOm8V2A6qT4BK2q1rjSak9CqGMe6Qw_IwiJ6K9VC4Y/s1600/Julius+and+Isaiah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-yZVyuhQktFCEevLlQKA3hyzffHuyA-ueBEAZHAR1l2MkqpFeeqjEXle5gADZ0qdO3qGNDmvCHL_kmgDYaAZRjDLrpASOaXJ-zcOm8V2A6qT4BK2q1rjSak9CqGMe6Qw_IwiJ6K9VC4Y/s1600/Julius+and+Isaiah.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">We grabbed
Wendy's on the way home from Wrightsville Beach, because the kids were starving.
Apparently, they were exhausted too, because Isaiah and Julius were
sitting in the third row seats when we hear Julius say, "Mom, Isaiah
fell asleep." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I said, "That's okay...he's probably just wiped out from
all that swimming and wave jumping." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Julius responds, "Yeah, but he fell
asleep holding his cheeseburger in his <span class="text_exposed_show">hand." </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Paul and I laugh and said, "It's okay." </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">*FAST FORWARD* </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">We drive into
the driveway and Isaiah wakes up. "Mom, I'm really hungry. I don't think
I ate my cheeseburger...I started looking out the window and I fell
asleep."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I said, "Yes, you fell asleep holding your cheeseburger, so
just eat that now if you want." </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">Isaiah said, "Yeah, but I don't have a
cheeseburger. It's gone."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I said, "That doesn't make any sense...its got
to be out back there." After much searching it never turned up. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">All
eyes turn back to Julius. He said, "What?" </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">I said, "Did you eat his
cheeseburger too?" </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">Julius said, "Noooooo." Oh, Julius ate it and finally
fessed up. He said, "It's a cheeseburger! I didn't want it to go to
waste!" </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">Oy Vey!</span></span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-68604275378053202722015-06-03T00:00:00.000-07:002015-06-03T00:00:01.879-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbgRGBQ-yli_WBaQQ_5DEiNrLob4uEvKaYUK3mFT4zhVehyf9EaYZU44GpIhCpP3RvH2OeQLSGQxTp5fneyuXuw3YxrU8ZltIGf6iSZE3eVJXWXfLsD_esmaiCOgofvaZjvStxfIFlh1_/s1600/Aubrey+45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbgRGBQ-yli_WBaQQ_5DEiNrLob4uEvKaYUK3mFT4zhVehyf9EaYZU44GpIhCpP3RvH2OeQLSGQxTp5fneyuXuw3YxrU8ZltIGf6iSZE3eVJXWXfLsD_esmaiCOgofvaZjvStxfIFlh1_/s1600/Aubrey+45.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Last July my granddaughter, Lil'
Miss. Aubrey colored me a picture and I said, "Can you put your name on
it?" </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> She says, "You write your own name!" </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I said, "I want you to write
your name, so I know who colored it for me." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Of course by this time, pre-school has
been done since May so she's having a hard time remembering how to do it. So I wrote it
down for her, so she can practice. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">As I'm writing it, she's standing
across from me watching and then says, "You doing it wrong, Nonna..it
upside down."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">LOL! </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> "Aubrey that's because you're looking at upside
down." I turned the paper around to show her the pic. Now she has no interest in practicing it! </span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-18494193602541080322015-05-27T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-27T00:00:06.491-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvanYecolKR0FP1T8_koXm4BXo7QM4kXVmSbMSQytM0Mv5tZluzkFoCUI10FhNBhQD6kKtZILGU9GwvOgamT6CkaeUk3LeV6-u4Cf7pxEYNDq9j1HgqchOM3YfOlnTpFyuvYcuWVE1MqS/s1600/Me+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvanYecolKR0FP1T8_koXm4BXo7QM4kXVmSbMSQytM0Mv5tZluzkFoCUI10FhNBhQD6kKtZILGU9GwvOgamT6CkaeUk3LeV6-u4Cf7pxEYNDq9j1HgqchOM3YfOlnTpFyuvYcuWVE1MqS/s1600/Me+and+mom.jpg" height="400" width="280" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The first time my mother(she hates technology, but is adjusting)created
her Facebook account she kept taking the "What's on your mind?" or "How
are you today?" prompts from FB literally. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I kept seeing random post
from her saying. "I don't know who this is, but I'm fine. Thank you."</span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-62796139920157864272015-05-20T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-20T00:00:07.496-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX1p5SAPDXBwvoLQRjM3VStC1YTfT9ZRrh76-WEHcK2av_NUgPOBlfxURf_y9K7BYjUQY8Q8zgkTSMF6kwjPn5OnZ1V3XXb8FGQtnE0hdBRyA-htSFdsiu7dAWtgv-TjpH0pOOaFgWhMvR/s1600/Scan0005+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX1p5SAPDXBwvoLQRjM3VStC1YTfT9ZRrh76-WEHcK2av_NUgPOBlfxURf_y9K7BYjUQY8Q8zgkTSMF6kwjPn5OnZ1V3XXb8FGQtnE0hdBRyA-htSFdsiu7dAWtgv-TjpH0pOOaFgWhMvR/s1600/Scan0005+%25282%2529.jpg" height="400" width="283" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Dejon:</b> We need to assert our dominance, so if that means we need to
lick other people's face...then that is what we're going to do! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I have no clue!</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-36859871177504879062015-05-13T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-13T00:00:12.132-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmfr7Wi5I7Im3sipNNJns7pWyjMxUTPymsWeQ61bguN4zhmdLzUxxkllCTSnq4iqEBIi_x-tknG7mtz409d4Teft-szrOPtpm6twCHASHOB76g4wYDzjpEUG1_6h0bMDKygRHOuPi7pzm/s1600/Dejon+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmfr7Wi5I7Im3sipNNJns7pWyjMxUTPymsWeQ61bguN4zhmdLzUxxkllCTSnq4iqEBIi_x-tknG7mtz409d4Teft-szrOPtpm6twCHASHOB76g4wYDzjpEUG1_6h0bMDKygRHOuPi7pzm/s1600/Dejon+7.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
We are looking at possible houses to set up a homestead...something with
a bit of land. I saw one and fell in love with it...and the price
wasn't too bad either. I showed Dejon a.k.a. Hollywood, who indulged my creative juices.<br />
<br />
He said, "See all those trees? That would be a safe place, in case of a
zombie uprising."<br />
<br />
I was so tickled. "You're so right. We could totally
build tree stands and create signals as we see them coming. We could get
equipped with crossbows and just take them down one at a time. Like a
Zombie Squad!"<br />
<br />
He smiled, "Yup, that is doable."<br />
<br />
Then I said, "We should
probably think about practicing...you know before all this happens."
LOL! The rest of the kids think I'm weird, but not <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000036877001" href="https://www.facebook.com/dejons1">DeJon</a>! He gets it!Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-57528306832722967422015-05-06T00:00:00.000-07:002015-05-06T00:00:12.706-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NzDbagIuO-fetyjjluxh1el7h6bHdVgKXWN-xj4yA3pnpDW6sNzFpZn5Jre6D1eb5N3ZAvoNrmT9yC0NkQ6msbcugj3nklhdw2FyS1UWNZwEoUfHQaHMfFHAMJgNg5uc-pqJgSXzKMga/s1600/hungry+woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NzDbagIuO-fetyjjluxh1el7h6bHdVgKXWN-xj4yA3pnpDW6sNzFpZn5Jre6D1eb5N3ZAvoNrmT9yC0NkQ6msbcugj3nklhdw2FyS1UWNZwEoUfHQaHMfFHAMJgNg5uc-pqJgSXzKMga/s1600/hungry+woman.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">If you don't think this statement isn't true...ask
my kids about the can of chicken I was trying to open the other day.
They were still giggling about me slamming it on to the floor to get it
open. That was after 7 turns on the can opener, three stab wounds to the
top metal cover. </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">After all that slammi</span></span><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$0:0">ng...the top never popped off and I had to scrape chicken
from the small 1/2" x 1" opening to have a healthy lunch. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpT6gYPUSTxLwytq4UkthhWlOL8iY8FCJSELhrjvCShae4kx7z_T6KZ38K-XdKPhaYjezxT9zF1u602DxdGSRII93xBzwK7ZMpRAMy6YbkMKVlxM1qK1V_QjT2HBjCF6eH4TCJY0Lo2CB/s1600/AJ+Grace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpT6gYPUSTxLwytq4UkthhWlOL8iY8FCJSELhrjvCShae4kx7z_T6KZ38K-XdKPhaYjezxT9zF1u602DxdGSRII93xBzwK7ZMpRAMy6YbkMKVlxM1qK1V_QjT2HBjCF6eH4TCJY0Lo2CB/s1600/AJ+Grace.jpg" height="320" width="283" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$0:0"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".2j.1:3:1:$comment10203198011944382_10203198484916206:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$0:0">This folks is why
chubby girls prefer leftover lasagna!</span></span></span></span></span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-52864357025363421822015-04-29T00:00:00.000-07:002015-04-29T00:00:12.037-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvanYecolKR0FP1T8_koXm4BXo7QM4kXVmSbMSQytM0Mv5tZluzkFoCUI10FhNBhQD6kKtZILGU9GwvOgamT6CkaeUk3LeV6-u4Cf7pxEYNDq9j1HgqchOM3YfOlnTpFyuvYcuWVE1MqS/s1600/Me+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvanYecolKR0FP1T8_koXm4BXo7QM4kXVmSbMSQytM0Mv5tZluzkFoCUI10FhNBhQD6kKtZILGU9GwvOgamT6CkaeUk3LeV6-u4Cf7pxEYNDq9j1HgqchOM3YfOlnTpFyuvYcuWVE1MqS/s1600/Me+and+mom.jpg" height="400" width="280" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I was
talking to my mother yesterday, and I love her! However, she's a
control freak! Marie Barone has nothing on this woman. When she was
doing her "will" a few years back the attorney was nearly speechless after
reading over her exact request. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">When he was through being shocked he
said, "Wow! You plan on managing things right from the grave don't you?" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">LOL! Our conversation then turned to her going to heaven. Yes, she
plans on taking over there too. </span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-20031384271504668082015-04-22T00:00:00.000-07:002015-04-22T00:00:07.135-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesdays!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZC3E3Z_MCk-TueiXMCug8D3_7kPyF2cUGgM-eGzlpoyimRXj6yJqVO8DMjFoGbKTzQJktOLLOvsd-p1aCV6idKJ-H989g9-ohQoFYtPhfkP8VZESuUy2Npavpyv_YX89D6-40b_HEft3/s1600/Aubrey+35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZC3E3Z_MCk-TueiXMCug8D3_7kPyF2cUGgM-eGzlpoyimRXj6yJqVO8DMjFoGbKTzQJktOLLOvsd-p1aCV6idKJ-H989g9-ohQoFYtPhfkP8VZESuUy2Npavpyv_YX89D6-40b_HEft3/s1600/Aubrey+35.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">The
grandbabies came for a visit, so Julius and Isaiah took out the "Headbandz"
game. If you don't know the game, they each wear a blue, plastic headband with a card of an
object/animal on it and they ask questions to try and figure out what
they are. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">My youngest granddaughter, Aubrey at age four hasn't quite got the
concept yet. Her sister, </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Gracie asked, "Okay, do I have legs?" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Aubrey
giggles and says, "You have legs....you're a Titty-Tat!" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">All the older
kids groaned, "Aubrey!!!" She was so proud of herself! LOL!</span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-26570052347225115292015-04-15T00:00:00.000-07:002015-04-15T00:00:15.778-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTy1PMGb1ni5izKvXfOGqsJPzb8WviHYWavHz2xexnVg9jlA3JUguskjCSk1T5jWdNyPhyVwbE2MvY4tu-82MAgFe6NctWc5R7ERZVVgR6g0eY7Dd2b_iCq8JWUBrS8rtqCTNgUjvqiCPy/s1600/IMG_0004_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTy1PMGb1ni5izKvXfOGqsJPzb8WviHYWavHz2xexnVg9jlA3JUguskjCSk1T5jWdNyPhyVwbE2MvY4tu-82MAgFe6NctWc5R7ERZVVgR6g0eY7Dd2b_iCq8JWUBrS8rtqCTNgUjvqiCPy/s1600/IMG_0004_1.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">My
second floor sounds like a guy's locker room, as people are showering
and dressing! Julius is singing out of tune...I think on purpose. The
other boys are pinning him down telling him to stop. He's laughing...and
still singing at the top of his lungs!</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Then I hear...<br /> <b>Dejon:</b> Devan, stop busting in the bathroom...I'm butt-nekkid!<br /> <b>Devan</b>: No you're not! Liar!<br /> <b>Dejon</b>: Devan you freak put the camera phone away!<br /> <b>Devan:</b> *screams*<br /> <b>Dejon:</b> Mom, Devan is being a freak! He's trying to take a video with his camera phone and I'm butt-naked!<br />
<b>Mom(yelling over the stairs):</b> Devan, knock it off! Dejon, don't
worry...even if he does get shot in...we'd need a zoom lense to see
anything.<br /> <b>Devan(laughs)</b>: She slayed you, dude!</span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-1820507702078658802015-04-08T00:00:00.000-07:002015-04-08T00:00:05.581-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_Y9fryTGonRyhZ_CnYGdNgbfEywrhFA4zWJZEWbwksJ2Ny7mVREpD4Py66dSW0k_5v3mOvmAHWF-0sMyDMbsM2zyymeKI63ujiLd3fO3mTaE1FO5mSBsZvROFtWuypiEPlukuX8pN7wo/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0540.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_Y9fryTGonRyhZ_CnYGdNgbfEywrhFA4zWJZEWbwksJ2Ny7mVREpD4Py66dSW0k_5v3mOvmAHWF-0sMyDMbsM2zyymeKI63ujiLd3fO3mTaE1FO5mSBsZvROFtWuypiEPlukuX8pN7wo/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0540.jpg.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">We
were watching wrestling and one of the wrestlers said, "There are three
things you don't do...pull on Superman's cape, piss in the wind and back
stab your brothers." <br /> </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b>Isaiah:</b> Pee in the wind? What does that mean?<br /> <b>Julius</b>: Duh? If you pee in the wind...it will come back on you. Why do you think Seth Rollin's hair looks like that! <br /> </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">OMGosh! I'm PMSL!!</span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-50147990142440897552015-04-01T00:00:00.000-07:002015-04-01T00:00:14.265-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyjF9QJ3Fd5RJKvbxue1BfppUfOyWWpVbA4arcDyb0fiGhysyKgMxCo01GBPffMDSMJdIV4K0gBDTQEpSaUve_mxT8Fua736y7zKY5n1IrFgZk_hiahMMVlJpPLkBGip8Kbl94kP4xcbH/s1600/BeFunky_2012-12-08+05Christmas201213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyjF9QJ3Fd5RJKvbxue1BfppUfOyWWpVbA4arcDyb0fiGhysyKgMxCo01GBPffMDSMJdIV4K0gBDTQEpSaUve_mxT8Fua736y7zKY5n1IrFgZk_hiahMMVlJpPLkBGip8Kbl94kP4xcbH/s1600/BeFunky_2012-12-08+05Christmas201213.jpg" height="400" width="268" /></a><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Isaiah and Julius were discussing superpowers in the car on the way home. <br /> </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b>Julius:</b> If I had flying for a superpower would you send me to the store for milk?<br /> <b>Me</b>: Yes, if you were older and it wouldn't make you crash.<br /> <b>Julius</b>: Well, I'd take any superpower really...but I would really like to fly.<br /> <b>Paul:</b> Why do they even consider Batman a superhero...he doesn't have any superpowers?<br /> <b>Isaiah:</b> He has super technology, Dad!<br /> <b>Me:</b> Ummm...Batman is a superhero. Duh! He has a bat mobile!<br /> <b>Paul:</b> But its not a superpower!<br /> <b>Me:</b> Well, technically Iron Man isn't a superhero then, because his is all technology too.<br /> <b>Isaiah:</b> Well, Batman was trained by a Ninja Master...so he can fight.<br /> <b>Me</b>: Yeah, Paul!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">As our friend, Miss. Paula says, "Paul you just got superhero schooled!" </span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-25031417898228991712015-03-25T00:00:00.000-07:002015-03-25T00:00:09.758-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTq0dVyek0oFTgj1Iky_hgx1scSb-ebkLn86UnMT69ruhyphenhyphenuLDUUrCdWMFeVA5_RqywKnOReko3yk7dpz_z3TOKIotK6yO5fIxeGouqAPoX1TEyPGqZXhB-wpLaK6kK8FHMfs_ZXe9tlDH/s1600/Scan0002+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTq0dVyek0oFTgj1Iky_hgx1scSb-ebkLn86UnMT69ruhyphenhyphenuLDUUrCdWMFeVA5_RqywKnOReko3yk7dpz_z3TOKIotK6yO5fIxeGouqAPoX1TEyPGqZXhB-wpLaK6kK8FHMfs_ZXe9tlDH/s1600/Scan0002+%25282%2529.jpg" height="400" width="282" /></a></div>
Michael was gently trying to let me know that while he was out driving
in my car this afternoon...he about shite his pants by over correcting
the SUV. <br />
<br />
<b>Michael(nervous smiling):</b> Don't freak, but this
afternoon....Phew! I kind of over corrected, because I had to swerve
around an animal.<br />
<b>Me:</b> What?! What kind of animal?<br />
<b>Michael:</b> It was a turtle...a big, big turtle and he popped out at me.<br />
<b>Me:</b> Michael, turtles don't pop out of anywhere...they're too slow.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <b>Michael</b>: Well, there was a opossum that came out right after him.<br /> <b>Me</b>: Really? Aren't opossums nocturnal?<br /> <b>Michael:</b> Nooooo!!!! Listen.<br />
<b>Me:</b> So a turtle and an opossum...I swear Michael if you tell me a
Bambi, a chipmunk and a bluebird came out right after I'm going to think
you're SnowflippinWhite!<br /> <b>Michael:</b> No! I have a pic of him.<br /> <b>Me:</b> The opossum?<br /> <b>Michael</b>: No, the turtle.<br /> </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">One day is all I'm asking for....no events, no drama, etc. I've been
waiting for that day for 28 years now...the odds are not in my favor.</span><br />
<br />
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-3586726805140343282015-03-18T00:00:00.000-07:002015-03-18T00:00:00.569-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<span data-reactid=".p2.1:3:1:$comment10152076405576851_10152076648991851:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:0"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".p2.1:3:1:$comment10152076405576851_10152076648991851:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".p2.1:3:1:$comment10152076405576851_10152076648991851:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".p2.1:3:1:$comment10152076405576851_10152076648991851:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">I love to dance! Of course, now at my age....I may not only offend
the people around me, but I even offend myself sometimes. Body parts
don't always go the way my brain is telling them. There is a cause and
effect thing going on! </span></span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-76470313070312276802015-03-11T00:00:00.000-07:002015-03-11T00:00:15.458-07:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUWAsYDXMcm-evnSzFLq4F25eGm4jcDd3w-8KpTfT1TelpJSrVWeULem9CX5tZopYdjjaBRq5sjKttfKg5CsiSyNF40C-vAsJ7NUp3FL-NJ-HbTARpRH8xrxExdiS7x99rkV12pVapM4W/s1600/Me+and+Michael.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUWAsYDXMcm-evnSzFLq4F25eGm4jcDd3w-8KpTfT1TelpJSrVWeULem9CX5tZopYdjjaBRq5sjKttfKg5CsiSyNF40C-vAsJ7NUp3FL-NJ-HbTARpRH8xrxExdiS7x99rkV12pVapM4W/s1600/Me+and+Michael.jpg" height="292" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">For
those of you that know me well...I have a very blunt parenting style,
especially with my teenagers. Mama got jokes...its the only way to
approach teenagerdom! My biggest fear with these kids...is keeping them
as innocent for as long as possible. When Michael went to prom we had
the "sex" talk....and yes I was very blunt then. Tonight he got home
from his 9 hour shift at McD's, definitely not<span class="text_exposed_show">
his dream job or anyone elses either, took a shower and was heading out
with the GF. Of course, I told him "No sex" and got the eye roll, to
which I reply..."I'm just keeping it real, because a baby means you'll
be coming home everyday from a 9 hour shift smelling like a greasy
french fry! Think about it. No purple lights for your car, no toys, no
freedom. Don't be trading in your sub-woofers and tweeters for a pair of
boobs. Remember...you get the urge...slam that bad boy in a window and
it'll go away!" Then I finished with my normal..."Be good, drive safe,
I love you." speech.</span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-51967795265182987202015-03-04T00:00:00.000-08:002015-03-04T00:00:01.218-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="_1x1">
<div class="userContentWrapper">
<br />
<div class="_wk" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4vQ_569GYAuhcrUvpBkJUgHAIo-Pn5KZaEJuFqr6oNATKAZmtDQdIc2V7Mce4fVP5Xllrb3dnFbOW7sknJXv3CLeBpd70Jkp9VulwyceVI-tRdYIRB3zjM6SQn-f_-NqZlea2d3kjG7R/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0710.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4vQ_569GYAuhcrUvpBkJUgHAIo-Pn5KZaEJuFqr6oNATKAZmtDQdIc2V7Mce4fVP5Xllrb3dnFbOW7sknJXv3CLeBpd70Jkp9VulwyceVI-tRdYIRB3zjM6SQn-f_-NqZlea2d3kjG7R/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0710.jpg.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> <b><span style="font-size: large;">Say Uncle!</span></b></span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> I
hear Julius yell, "OW!" </span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I look over and see him folded in half with
Isaiah pinning his knees to his ears. I freaked. "Isaiah, I don't want
you guys wrestling like that! You're going to break his neck." </span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Julius
isn't screaming anymore, but Isaiah still has him pressed in half and
says, "Wrestling? We're not wrestling..its yoga!!" </span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">SMH!!!</span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
<div class="_wk">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4Z4EeOlV66SKvfAojfvMXJ8trix6p85CJNQznvLEfI7QO3ukJ5kVjsIOPVdyNvSUjmgSo4KvNb7ZvZbWZtgA3jwBRA5GbM-KQ3CaENP7hzoaIPOFLCCYqrgDl-4i5LhlNlOROixQHKcB/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0546.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4Z4EeOlV66SKvfAojfvMXJ8trix6p85CJNQznvLEfI7QO3ukJ5kVjsIOPVdyNvSUjmgSo4KvNb7ZvZbWZtgA3jwBRA5GbM-KQ3CaENP7hzoaIPOFLCCYqrgDl-4i5LhlNlOROixQHKcB/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0546.jpg.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> </span></div>
<div class="_wk">
</div>
</div>
</div>
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-80111879169661866552015-02-25T00:00:00.000-08:002015-02-25T00:00:07.003-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzzS-OqxcrQln7SFRUgKFdXPDULpDdbUH798I29j_vh0x0929kM63fVIpbTvJVyiAvliVRCXgtQ4hf6tijD1lgvdak-qXj25jl8Dv-TJqh_Kq2J9kXXUA-x9hns-MinXENwx7TzE84p4E/s1600/Jenna+and+I+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzzS-OqxcrQln7SFRUgKFdXPDULpDdbUH798I29j_vh0x0929kM63fVIpbTvJVyiAvliVRCXgtQ4hf6tijD1lgvdak-qXj25jl8Dv-TJqh_Kq2J9kXXUA-x9hns-MinXENwx7TzE84p4E/s1600/Jenna+and+I+2.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mother's Day 2014</b></span></div>
<b>Jenna</b>: Mom, you're a writer...so why don't you ever put something sappy on my Facebook wall. I mean its Mother's Day!<br />
<b>Me</b>: I'm Sorry. I like to keep shit real.<br />
<b>Jenna</b>: It's true...you aren't an emotional person.<br />
<b>Me:</b> I know...it is true.<br />
<b>Jenna:</b> Even Dad(the ex) is more emotional and sappy than you are.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <b>Me: </b>I swear that man has a vagina.</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<b>*LMAO* I don't care who you are that shit was funny!</b><br />
<b>Jenna</b>: Mom!<br />
<b>Me</b>: What? I bought you a Nutribullet! You should have your father write something sappy on your wall!<br />
<b>Jenna:</b> You know he can't spell!<br />
<b>Me</b>: Or tell time! <br />
<br />
<b>Bahahahahahaha! I had to stop the conversation, because I could go on all day with that topic!</b></div>
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-8862938726129816342015-02-18T00:00:00.000-08:002015-02-18T00:00:05.844-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3dhbeb9LzI8vCrVm3ZxduaE7ovRXiH-snQ01muU5hFK4RKxSWDbHqE-6VpKeZJdfB2nBd4tqvoTass38BbpqN-xG6gRjqR-hTg6avo9YqS-I24uSTMeXLfretkEM53nUhLR_42FC4UbD/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_1039.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3dhbeb9LzI8vCrVm3ZxduaE7ovRXiH-snQ01muU5hFK4RKxSWDbHqE-6VpKeZJdfB2nBd4tqvoTass38BbpqN-xG6gRjqR-hTg6avo9YqS-I24uSTMeXLfretkEM53nUhLR_42FC4UbD/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_1039.jpg.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Prom Night Pep Talk!</b></span></div>
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">My oldest son, Michael went to his first prom this past May. For weeks I worried about how it
would all come together. We had disagreements, I had nightmare, but in the end it all came together! Phew! He's only a junior, so I have to do this all over again this coming May!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Michael, though he is very pigheaded at times, has never given us a reason to not trust his judgement. He's been an amazing son! He works really hard at school, does chores without being asked, respectful to adults/teachers, no drugs, no drinking, etc. Those are issues that we have never dealt with Michael and we are proud of his choices thus far. However, he is seventeen years old and the testosterone is flowing through his veins. As a parent I felt the need to have "the talk" again. I mean it's Prom Night...anything can happen, right?</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">As Michael and I were
driving to meet his girlfriend for prom pictures...I gave him the pep talk. I'm not really good at
pep talks, because <b>"I says it hows I sees it"</b>. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I started off with..."No
sex! I don't allow that." </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99DGLDcmCEub_-oBEoGuakv-G__S5z2A02dsuiHA3BPYHAE5oiWfzPssbkL_143ZmE90bO0aR500oJVfMoI7M1Nm3HaeuO6EwFnOKGSw5AVbJWZqABnS_Z0ZANU9a2arcOW_Hi7rNy_XT/s1600/Michael+prom+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99DGLDcmCEub_-oBEoGuakv-G__S5z2A02dsuiHA3BPYHAE5oiWfzPssbkL_143ZmE90bO0aR500oJVfMoI7M1Nm3HaeuO6EwFnOKGSw5AVbJWZqABnS_Z0ZANU9a2arcOW_Hi7rNy_XT/s1600/Michael+prom+2.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Michael says, "I knnnnooowww!" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I replied,
"Okay, but it makes me feel better that <span class="text_exposed_show">I
at least said it. Cuz, you know sex is like candy...once you get the
taste of it you're always going to want more." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">Michael said, "All right,
I get it. You don't have to keep talking about it." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">So I continued, "If
by some chance you decide you're going to have sex...I'm cursing you
right now. Brandy's face will turn into mine, and you'll hear me and
Jesus doing a lot of talking!!" Michael rolled his eyes. I said, "I
know...this is awkward, but I feel better just knowing I at least warned
you. So....if you get the urge just slam that thing in a window and
it'll go away. Capiche?" Have a good time!</span></span><br />
<br />
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-86059460700171445472015-02-11T00:00:00.000-08:002015-02-11T00:00:01.267-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbew9XvWFpTZ2JslP4htjukJM3EprIQ_g24-5MinmS8Svx2yDwc3TSRtn1-Qjy-MUZQWWWQDjiwrhiQtcMuLmqSLaxvBfBqDHzN3z3WHXEoDV90HZJelXj25h9UgqvLdxcHUmnWt0_G_Ja/s1600/Scan0001+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbew9XvWFpTZ2JslP4htjukJM3EprIQ_g24-5MinmS8Svx2yDwc3TSRtn1-Qjy-MUZQWWWQDjiwrhiQtcMuLmqSLaxvBfBqDHzN3z3WHXEoDV90HZJelXj25h9UgqvLdxcHUmnWt0_G_Ja/s1600/Scan0001+(3).jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hen Pecked!</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
We were outside feeding and watering the chickens. Isaiah said, "Why is
that rooster afraid of everything. He's a big wimp." Before I could
answer he said, "Never mind he's living with 11 women...that's probably
why!"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyGZZdAStyUeMFnPCjp_dpUyu1IMap3Vduhkbpq9i0ow5YUBInpvD_tIcBC9_fHw1silLFgjaJzM6TKOLneEn9Oykco6QX3yRawwezNcyhjyQbRjkE22WqfZq1YYIguMGRqQZNYb4mLib/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0878.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyGZZdAStyUeMFnPCjp_dpUyu1IMap3Vduhkbpq9i0ow5YUBInpvD_tIcBC9_fHw1silLFgjaJzM6TKOLneEn9Oykco6QX3yRawwezNcyhjyQbRjkE22WqfZq1YYIguMGRqQZNYb4mLib/s1600/BeFunky_IMG_0878.jpg.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-24345811985397679122015-02-04T00:00:00.000-08:002015-02-04T00:00:12.253-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqA_JY9tN668CJSEgLvoy-IXYA-sYXlv4zA8jxgaea2IBibgicOLjqi7w_5WnUtJEyLZUs_QF-agV93cuRFV67tveZg8ps-ZHrS8_kTVOSbVlJ5l7vBG5vXJfEc0GwRTVabXNO6y-mC6T/s1600/Aubrey+42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqA_JY9tN668CJSEgLvoy-IXYA-sYXlv4zA8jxgaea2IBibgicOLjqi7w_5WnUtJEyLZUs_QF-agV93cuRFV67tveZg8ps-ZHrS8_kTVOSbVlJ5l7vBG5vXJfEc0GwRTVabXNO6y-mC6T/s1600/Aubrey+42.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
My daughter, Jenna picked up my four year old granddaughter, Aubrey from pre-school. She decided to bring Miss. Aubrey for an ice cream and then for a walk at the environmental park in Knightdale. It was a bit warm on this day and NC's first bout of humidity of the spring. Aubrey likes to be difficult, so she started complaining<br />
<br />
<b>Aubrey:</b> ugh it's gonna be so hot there<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /><b> Jenna:(sarcastically) </b>Oh, no Aubrey what are we gonna do?!<br /> <b>Aubrey: (arms crossed)</b> Duh, we gonna sweat, that's what! </span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-28537852846953018362015-02-01T00:00:00.000-08:002015-02-01T00:00:08.884-08:00Juliusism Sunday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Y9ofs_pBC9u_CEsKW7y7ehNG-XTz8TQl3wuJqhn8FHZufje6gIWpFpZkEb6gV88rP5FIBPLK0s7JgdbfAHzahd8-UBvuN12h-xNBNYec0MxzDQ5GJNVCWnzmU8v_xLT0OtDT-6dO-TTc/s1600/Scan0004+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Y9ofs_pBC9u_CEsKW7y7ehNG-XTz8TQl3wuJqhn8FHZufje6gIWpFpZkEb6gV88rP5FIBPLK0s7JgdbfAHzahd8-UBvuN12h-xNBNYec0MxzDQ5GJNVCWnzmU8v_xLT0OtDT-6dO-TTc/s1600/Scan0004+(2).jpg" height="400" width="275" /></a></div>
<b>Julius</b>: You know farting is completely normal. I just can't believe girls are allowed to do it....but its completely normal.<br /><br />
Hahahahahaha! He's always thinking!Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-61872186943057761332015-01-28T00:00:00.001-08:002015-01-28T00:00:02.068-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div align="center" class="userContent">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">You Need To Check Yourself!</span></div>
<div class="userContent">
I
avoid those "self-checkout" aisles at the grocery store at all cost.
Those flipping things are so prone to malfunction it isn't even funny.
However, today there was only one regular lane open and it was packed.
Deciding I didn't want to wait in a long line with two kids, I ventured
to the self-check out aisles to speed the process along. I figured
with so few items, I can't possibly screw this up. You scan things and
put them in the bag. Its not rocket science. </div>
<div class="userContent">
So
I begin! First item....scanned. The register says, "Please place the
item in the bagging area" over the speaker when I've already done it. It
tells me I'll have to wait for an attendant to assist me, but then
corrects itself ten seconds later. I said "WTH" to myself. I scan the
next two items and it says it again. This time I say out loud. "Oh, my
aching arse!" I got a few stares. </div>
<div class="userContent">
I scan
a few more items, and it did it a third time and let me tell you.....it
wasn't a flipping charm. I blurted out "I wish I had a 9 iron, because
I'm about to go Happy Gilmore on this thing." Okay, I got a few stares,
but I was completely serious!</div>
<div class="userContent">
Please remind me that I don't like the self-check outs and to wait in the huge line no matter what!!!</div>
Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-36819588008592636142015-01-25T00:00:00.000-08:002015-01-25T00:00:05.080-08:00Juliusism Sunday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the Beginning!</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU9_yOa-mnkjbIrHRIm4CkbnR-y_PTvjRrZrPkRdl5A7A2HfBV3zbigjgrUQ-ewFosBq3mBEBZfvAQ2CzCywQcNQkLkTp2NljU7Cr-KQbS-8BViWI_jbENQzSBwXKY6D_OvXjvituoHFn/s1600/041.JPG" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
We were sitting around the dinner table last night and Julius randomly asked, "Mom, how many were you on the first day?" I gave him a perplexed look and said, "The first day of what?" He thought for a few seconds and replied, "I don't know...just on the first day. How many were you then?" Isaiah piped in and said, "I think he means when the earth was created, Mom." I was just about to correct Isaiah, because that would mean that Julius thinks I'm as old as dirt...and I'm fairly sure I'm not quite that geriatric. Julius said, "Yeah, that's what I mean!"<br />
<br />
Stick a shovel in me...I'm done!Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1563015086200658430.post-86155502445955240472015-01-21T00:00:00.000-08:002015-01-21T00:00:04.012-08:00Dysfunctional Wednesday!<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Here Chicky, Chicky!</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In our
family’s on going quest to have a healthier lifestyle, my husband and I have a
plan to “Go Off the Grid” in the next five years. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first phase is planting a garden, learning how to can, and the possibility of
starting a small orchard of apple, peach and pear trees. Along with that we are
looking at building a small greenhouse, so we can have a few fresh veggies
during the colder months, as well.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGhBxrfO940z3cxdoYmCip_JgA9Sh0ChfDNvbjACqvftBs0vGcbQTS4q0-HHePtU6flzgWy01K20tROYwrC25dnl-bKlQLKgeTq8mqtL65rWymd_MFnM_W5EyamxwKsBoh_-ljXA__eo/s1600/Chicken+collage+1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnGhBxrfO940z3cxdoYmCip_JgA9Sh0ChfDNvbjACqvftBs0vGcbQTS4q0-HHePtU6flzgWy01K20tROYwrC25dnl-bKlQLKgeTq8mqtL65rWymd_MFnM_W5EyamxwKsBoh_-ljXA__eo/s1600/Chicken+collage+1.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Phase
two was getting a few chickens…as in four or five. That is where we are at now.
I consulted with a friend who raises chickens to find the best layers, and there
are some breeds that can be “sexed” and some that can’t. Being “sexed” for
those of you who are not familiar with chickens, it's the ability to tell if a
chick will be a hen or a rooster. Roosters can’t lay eggs and we have no desire
to breed them. She mentioned that Leghorns are great layers, but can’t be “sexed”,
however Golden Comets lay great and can be “sexed”. I’m a huge fan of Foghorn
Leghorn, so I decided that I’d take a gamble and chose the Leghorns.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
At the end of February of this year
our journey into raising free ranged chickens began. Our four leghorn chicks
arrived and there is no need to deny it…they are cute! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A week
didn’t go by when I decided that four chickens may not be enough for a family
of eight people. So I gave my friend a call and told her to look around for
some Golden Comet chicks. A week later in came our newest chicks. They were
even tinier and cuter than the last set. We named these ones Sophia, Blanche,
Dorothy and Rosie. That may have been a big mistake, because I was starting to
bond with my new feathered babies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was also around this time that we discovered one of our leghorn hens was actually
a rooster. Oops! Hey, one out of four…that was a pretty good gamble if you ask
me. So now I have a Leghorn named Foghorn. My dreams were coming true.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My husband
was content with our growing brood. I, on the other hand, was not. Google is a
very dangerous place and it wasn’t long before I realized there were some
pretty amazing breeds of chickens. The chicken bug had bitten and I knew that
eight chickens would never be enough. Getting more, however would be tricky, as
my hubby was not on board with my newfound obsession. I needed reinforcements,
so I recruited my oldest daughter, Jenna. She hit up the local Tractor Supply
and in mid-March she smuggled in two Giant Cochin chicks and two Black Star
chicks. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Giant Cochins were a must
have. They have these beautiful feathered legs and remind me of Cancan girls.
However, it took less than twenty four hours for my deceitfulness to be
discovered. My husband is a mathematics major…he knows how to count to eight
and he was coming up with twelve when he looked in the nursery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Busted!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1fDE4jCExsjs_37wTLG31-vsXsRH-XCMCc0WcLt-ihfb8zlBmwhCR3VYUIAUdb8UC0_4ji_ybRzAba1BhUEFXYYtkFVhuDtUXVympNOp7SHfoB8s0hZ34pK2yASMFoAolf1lyz_Snls/s1600/chicken+collage+2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1fDE4jCExsjs_37wTLG31-vsXsRH-XCMCc0WcLt-ihfb8zlBmwhCR3VYUIAUdb8UC0_4ji_ybRzAba1BhUEFXYYtkFVhuDtUXVympNOp7SHfoB8s0hZ34pK2yASMFoAolf1lyz_Snls/s1600/chicken+collage+2.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I promised
the hubby that this was it, and I truly meant it at the time. Then I went on
Google. Did you know they have chickens with Mohawks? Barbanters not only have
beautiful markings, but they are great layers during the frigid temperatures of
winter. Okay, so I live North Carolina and the colder temps aren’t going to be
a huge issue…but these guys are going to have Mohawks when they’re full grown! Do
you understand how cool that is going to be? I needed my chicken fix. I called
my friend, who by this time I’m referring to as my dealer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took a while, but my dealer found Barbanter
chicks. I only bought two, but she threw in an extra Barbanter and two Cochin
Bantam/Sultan cross chicks for good measure. By this time, I’ve set my nursery
up in the garage. This time when the hubby came home and checked on the babies
he counted seventeen. I think the roof actually lifted off the house. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It wasn’t
a week later my addiction went into high gear when I discovered Sultans. OMGee!
These chickens have 80’s hair. I mean Big Ole’ Mall hair! I was in love and I
needed one…or two. I made an inconspicuous call to my dealer and ten days later
she located this rare breed. Last Saturday I hit an all-time low when I made a “quick
chick” purchase in the parking lot of the local Harris Teeter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slid my dealer $15 dollars across the hood
of the Cluck Truck and she gave me a box of three Sultan chicks. My excuse to
my husband for opting with three instead of the two that we had agreed on…I’m
OCD and I needed an even number. So here we are the end of April, we have
twenty chickens and I’m in absolute heaven. I can’t get enough of my girls…and
Foghorn! </div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
you’re looking for me…I’ll be sitting in the backyard talking to my hens and
conjuring up a new idea for a middle grade book about….You guessed it,
Chickens!</span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span> </span></span>Angela Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11072032390775076919noreply@blogger.com0