Beth Labonte's Blog, page 5

The Time Goes By So Fast

“The times goes by so fast” is what they say about raising children.

Yes, the time certainly does go by fast when you have exactly fifty minutes to get your three and a half year old ready for school in the morning. I won’t even get into the Carol Bradys who insist that we “enjoy every moment” of it. Obviously those people have never had to read a thirty-two page book about Dora rescuing King Unicornio.  But I digress.

The morning typically starts out with me entering his bedroom.

“Good morning, buddy! Time to wake up!” I chirp, turning on the lamp.

“No! Too sunny!” barks the child. I turn off the lamp.

“Ahh! Scary eyes!” The scary as hell illuminated eyeballs of our cat, who is standing out in the hallway, are glaring at us. The cat is actually trapped behind the safety gate at the top of the stairs (too fat to fit through) and starts tearing the carpet to shreds.

“It’s ok, it’s just Patrick,” I say, taking a brief intermission to chase the little d-bag down the stairs.

“School today! School today!” I say in my beautiful sing-song voice, closing the door behind me. If anybody ever came into my bedroom, early in the morning, singing "Work today! Work today!" I would probably rip their arms out.

“Too tired!” Child sits up, rubs eyes, and flops forward onto face.

“Ok, you can lay there while I pick out your clothes.” I take one step in the direction of the closet.

“No! I WANNA PICK OUT MY CLOTHES!” With zero transition between the two, the child shoots from a laying down on the face position straight into a standing up position. He starts to climb out of the bed, but is distracted by the fact that the raised piece of wood that keeps him from falling out of bed also makes for a great motorcycle.

“Vroom! Vroom!” and other related noises ensue.

“Ok, buddy. Time to pick out your clothes!” Request is ignored.

“Vroom! Vroom!”

I physically remove him from the motorcycle and place him on the floor.

"It's time to get dressed now,” I say, firmly. Definitely firmly. It is at this point, when the child is completely under my supreme authority, that his eyes roll back in his head, his legs give out, and he starts to perform the African tribal dance number from Coming to America.

“Stand up please.”

She’s your Queen –to be!

“Please help Mummy.”

A Queen who’ll do whatever his highness desires…..

"Ok, I'm going to come back when you're ready," I say, leaving the room and shutting the door. Two seconds later a naked from the waist down child emerges in a state of utter and complete panic.

"HAVE TO GO PEE!!!"

Much to the delight of our other cat, who is obsessed with drinking out of the toilet, the child proceeds to pee, not flush, and leave the toilet lid up. I flush, close the lid, eject cat. We march – or log roll – back to the bedroom where we then get down to the business of dressing.

One of my son’s favorite past times is to inch backwards after each item of clothing is fitted onto his frame. Since I am on my knees during the whole getting dressed process, by the time we get to the socks I am practically face down on the carpet. Unfortunately I am not able to shoot back into a stand-up position with the same ease as the child.

“Time to go down for breakfast!” I say, snapping the extremities back into place and brushing cat hair, fuzz balls, and wood chips off of my black dress pants. Down the stairs we go, stopping to ask every single day why the first spindle on the railing spins while the rest of them don’t spin. “Because it’s broken,” I answer, for the thirty billionth time. “Please don’t spin it or it will break even more.” Child spins the spindle.

I won't bore you with a play by play of the rest of the morning.  It simply consists of assembling breakfast and getting him to eat breakfast while zoned out in front of Peep and the Big Wide World.  It's on a good day that he wants to watch Peep and the Big Wide World.  On a bad day we have an argument over him wanting to watch something along the lines of Spiderman versus Nazi Germany.  I mean, come on Netflix, can't you put in some filters?

Once eating is accomplished we then get together his much needed school supplies. School supplies at the age of three and half include an assortment of stuffed animals and whatever small toy he is able to fit into his pocket. Almost all of the stuffed animals that he brings to school were won from a claw machine, and almost all of the toys that he brings are from a gumball machine. His teachers must think that we’re made out of quarters. The child then fills us in on which of the basement steps is the dirtiest, and we all pile into our respective cars and head off into the world.

That’s basically it. Well, until we get home. Then it’s pretty much the same routine except in reverse order. Dinner, bath, pajamas, cats drinking out of the toilet, “I can’t sleep because I’ll have a bad dream about the cat’s scary ass illuminated eyeballs,” etc.

So yes, “The time goes by fast.”  So fast, that by the end of it, I’ve only got like thirty minutes left to watch t.v.

Thanks!

Thank you to everybody who downloaded What Stays in Vegas from Amazon over the past month! And an extra thank you to everyone who took the time to write a review.  I am blown away by the fact that I went from 20 reviews to over 100 reviews in such an incredibly short period of time.  I am very inspired to continue writing, and am about 1/3 of the way through my second novel.  I hope that those of you who loved What Stays in Vegas will look me up once #2 is for sale :)

"Success consists of getting up just one more time than you fall." - Oliver Goldsmith

Handy Manny

You know you're bored with your job when you come home at night, watch Handy Manny with your three year old, and find yourself jealous of his career choice.  I mean, look how happy he his hanging out with The Tools and heading out to a different job every day where he actually helps people in the neighborhood.  Not to mention that he's a small business owner.  And today I even saw him make a time capsule.  A TIME CAPSULE.  He built it because the one the townspeople were going to use was too small to fit all their stuff.  So he grabbed a bunch of scrap wood and built this really nice one so they could fit all their stuff and be remembered for posterity.  What the hell did I do today? Oh that's right, I ate Wendy's in my car.

Well I'm not making a cent....

But it's still pretty cool to see.  Since making What Stays in Vegas FREE on Amazon, it's shot right up the ranks!   Okay sure it's not actually a Teen Romance....but who cares?  I'M NUMBER ONE.

An interview with all the crap on my desk

Me:  Good afternoon everybody, thank you all for being here.  It's been a hell of a ride, hasn't it?

[Applause]

Me:  I thought it would be nice to get all of us together and just sit down and have a chat about what it's been like working together all this time.  How we've all learned and grown, and basically, correct me if I'm wrong, come to regard each other as a family.  Stapler, I thought we might start with you.  How does it feel to have worked at this same desk for so long?

Stapler:  Let me just say that I've become very attached to everybody, especially to 20 lb bright white copy paper over there.

[Laughter]

Me:  That's for sure.  Tell us about a typical day for you and the challenges that you face and overcome with the help of your team.

Stapler:  Well, some days I get punched in the head a hundred times in a row.  But then other days I don't get touched at all.  Once in a while I get so jammed up I can hardly tell my foot from my anvil.  It's a real roller coaster ride.  I'm just happy I have tape dispenser by my side to talk with. I can tell her anything and I know that her lips are sealed.

[Laughter]

Me:  Tape dispenser, how does that make you feel to hear stapler say those things about you?

Tape dispenser:  It feels wonderful.  People often wonder how two forms of fasteners can be such good friends, but when I look at stapler all I see is another piece of office equipment.  I'm also good friends with a glue stick, a gold tone paperclip, and a brass fastener.  Diversity is beautiful.

[Applause]

Me:  So there's got to be times when you're having a slow day.  What do you guys do to keep entertained?  Yellow highlighter?

Yellow highlighter:  Sometimes when we all need a good laugh, rubber band will get down on the floor, like right in the middle of the cubicle, and just lay there for like seven hours.  He's nuts!  And we're all like "He did not just do that!"  Unbelievable.

[Laughter]

[Rubber band shrugs]

[Applause]

Me:  Let's get serious for a moment.  DRAFT stamp, has there ever been a time that you've thought "Why must I always be a Draft? When will my time come to go Final?"  

DRAFT stamp:  Of course. What red-blooded rubber stamp hasn't thought about that? But then I realize that there is no FINAL stamp.  If I were to become Final, I would cease to exist.  I've discussed these philosophical musings quite a bit with FILE and FAXED _____ .  Thanks for putting up with me guys!

[Applause]

Me:  So, I've heard a few rumors about, how can I put this delicately?  "After hours" relationships between some of you.  Any truth to this?

[Ooooooh!]

Stapler:  Bottle of Advil, do you want to answer this one?

Bottle of Advil:  I knew you were going to do this to me.

Me:  Come on guys, the suspense is killing me!

Bottle of Advil:  Okay, fine.  I will admit to a brief affair with Bottle of DayQuil back in the winter of 2010. Remember when you were taking that?

Me:  Oh my God.  I do remember that.  I left it out for like three days and then I brought it back home.  I had no idea!

Bottle of Advil:  That was hard, you know?  Having him ripped away like that when you still seemed pretty sick.

Me:  I'm sorry, I had no idea.  I just didn't want to get addicted to that shit.  But I think I may be able to make it up to you.

[Produces box of Benadryl from purse]

[Applause]

[All contents of desk commence singing Vitamin D Graduation Song as we embrace]

End scene.

FML

Know Your Competition

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at work this morning to find a whole crowd of folks waiting to interview for my job.  A bit perturbed, I pushed my way through, grabbed their resumes off the printer, and had myself a read.  Interesting bunch.  I can't say I blame my bosses for exploring their options.  Here are a couple of the top contenders: 

A cabbage with headphones - Apparently this guy came prepared to show off his transcription skills.  I'm not quite sure how he plans to type, seeing that he's made out of cabbage leaves instead of the necessary appendages- but we don't discriminate around here. I mean, I have fingers and hands and I haven't typed anything all day. I'd probably be more productive if I had cabbage leaves. Okay, that doesn't make any sense. My point is that we are an equal opportunity employer, and if a direct relation of the collared green wants to answer the telephone and make coffee, then he has every right to apply for the job. And with a personality like a cabbage, he'll be rolling his way up the corporate ladder in no time.  

Inspector Gadget - Sure it's a step down from the fast paced world of chasing Dr. Claw, but there comes a time in every cyborg policeman's life when he realizes that it's time to settle down with a nice desk job. According to his resume/packaging, Workplace Enhanced Inspector Gadget comes with "Go-Go-Gadget-Hole-Punch!" "Go-Go-Gadget-Conference-Call!" and "Go-Go-Gadget-Word-Document!"  That's some efficient shit.  I suppose I saw it coming.  I mean, it's like I always said:  If you can't keep up with modern technology, your job will be outsourced to a 1980's cartoon character.    


Secretary Barbie - Alright fellas, I know what you're thinking. Why should I choose a cartoon character with a pair of robot arms coming out of its head, when I could have this stiletto wearing, Cindy Crawford mole sporting, little number parading around the office giving me the old come hither stare? And to that I say...you win. But I will tell you one thing - judging by the amount of eye makeup this broad feels the need to put on every morning, you do not want to see her the day after the office Christmas party. Also, her fingers are glued together so you’d better have a damn good reason for choosing her over the hand-less cabbage who had the dedication to show up wearing transcription headphones. 
****As it turned out, management has decided to keep me around.  Inspector Gadget got called away mid-interview on some "really urgent" matter by a guy named Quimby, the cabbage kept doing this really weird thing where he maintained eye contact for way too long, and to everyone's disappointment, Barbie farted.  

20 Things We're Doing In Our Cubicles

Listening for footsteps. Ordering tickets to that thing on that day that we’re going to call in sick.Staring blankly at Outlook while praying for Armageddon.Synchronizing our menstrual cycles. Deleting our Google Toolbar search histories one letter at a time. Researching World War II on Wikipedia, followed by the lyrics to Thrift Shop. Accidentally sipping yesterday’s cup of coffee. Making fun of the company website.Starting up a new colony of bacteria on our keyboards.Wondering if it’s too soon to go pee again. Losing muscle mass.Realizing that all of the 6-digit project numbers we’ve memorized have replaced all of the phone numbers we used to know.Staring wistfully at our empty water cup.Shoving keys, wallet, and phone into waistband of skirt and sneaking out for coffee, leaving purse behind as decoy.  Re-writing the final episode of Family Ties.Looking up everybody we’ve ever known on LinkedIn because it’s the only social networking site that’s not blocked. Finally getting around to Googling “proper way to slice an onion.” Wondering what that smell is. Deleting email from Classmates.com.This.

The Secret is Out

I've figured out who the model was for the Outlook "add contact photo" template:

Snow!!!!!!!!!!!!

Way to go Weather.com.  Love the red alarmist color scheme and how the entire East coast is being engulfed in flames.  Virginia and West Virginia are pretty much drowning in a giant puddle of blood.
















First Nemo, now Saturn?  These names seriously suck.  Obviously Weather.com wants to scare the living daylights out of everybody, so I'm surprised they keep going with such wimpy names. They need something that portrays misery and our impending doom - like using a list of serial killer names. I bet Winter Storm Jeffrey Dahmer would keep plenty of people off the roads.  Plus they could make cool analogies like "This storm is going to slice through New England like...." And then they could fill in the blank with any number of disturbing images.  That's right, Weather.com, I'm available for part-time employment.  Don't be shy.

Weekly BK Sign Roundup

Here's a couple of doozies from the past few weeks.  The first one I'm not even sure what it says. ANDTAS CHEESET OTS UTAREBACK is what it looks like to me.  And then we have the second one boasting about a delicious cup of cold coffee for 25 cents.  I'll assume that the letters needed to spell the word "iced" were lost in the shrubs and so they had to just do their best.  And as we know, BK's best is just terrible.