Definition:
Trailertrashtastic (n.)- To emulate or otherwise complete the stereotype of white trash by displaying tires on the lawn, multiple loads of laundry hung out to dry in the front yard (unmentionables included) in full display of the trailer park, children playing wearing only diapers or underwear, all while drinking a beer and watching car racing on television (via antennae, of course).
If I did not have my sense of humor then my life would be very disturbing at times. To save money we decided to only wash last week's clothes at the laundromat and bring them home to line dry. Perhaps the best way to do this is at one load at a time, but we had four. So our yard resembled something between a yard sale and a scene from the movie Twister Sunday afternoon.
We had to bug bomb the RV. I had endured my final flying insect and spider, so yesterday when I woke up I pronounced Sunday would be "bomb day." We loaded the cats into the crate, dog and children (and cats) into the car, set off the foggers, and set out to the park to try and kill the four hours required to annihialate small creatures and insects. The park did not allow pets, so we put them under a shade tree and let the boys play. It's hot in Huntsville in June. Like middle of the sun, ninth circle of hell, core of the Earth hot. And it doesn't rain. Ever (apparently). So the moral of that little story is do not bug bomb your house in July in Huntsville if you have no indoor options in which to pass the time. Oh. And the CO2 monitor apparently thinks whatever is in bug fogger is CO2 compatable and continually screamed until the mist settled. TJ went in several times to fan it off. I suggested that perhaps humans were not intended to breathe in the misty fumes, but his response? "I've breathed worse." Great. Does that life insurance policy cover inhalation mistakes? Just curious.
I have also discovered that I only sleep well in our room if our A/C is on "coldest" and turned on all night. Last night (and this had never happend before thus far) I asked TJ to set it to "coldest" so I wouldn't hear the "click" each time the unit went from "fan" to "freon" (or condition or whatever.) He argued that both A/C's turning on at the same time would trip the circuit breaker. I rolled my eyes. He no sooner had turned it on and climbed into bed that the power shut off. Really. What are the chances? I'm telling you if he hadn't put it out there into the universe it would not have happened. The best thing about this little documentation I'm keeping of this journey is that it is from my perspective. I'm sure if you asked his take on much of this he'd have a different story.
We broke down and bought a new laptop. The cheapest version of the best one we could afford. I've got to admit though, with my less than stellar track record with technology and my husband's threat if I break this one, I'm on pins and needles with every keystroke! Speaking of technology, our new little handheld vacuum now overheats after three minutes of use. It's two months old. This time I blame the pet hair and not the operator. Perhaps it's time to invest in a Roomba.
So. During our marriage we have lived in two houses with dishwashers and two houses with a dishwasher named Mommy. I am the only one who ever has or ever will do dishes, except when my mother-in-law has visited and she is wonderful enough to pitch in. My point is that the husband does not, has not, will not do dishes. Have I made my point? It's not that I enjoy doing them, I hated it as a child and like it substantially less now. But unless I want to waste money on disposable dishware, washing dishes myself is the only option. Having said that I would like to throw my husband "under the bus" for a moment. He says (to me), "You're not a very good dishwasher" (or something along those lines)... (A few years back he said "I like the way I clean the bathroom better" then proceeded not to do it for three months. Just making a point here...) I do admit that perhaps my dishwashing abilities are not five-star quality. It's not my favorite job. My family's lucky I do them at all. What I'm trying to get at here is people who live in houses where dishes get done for you should not throw stones. Or dishwater. Or something like that. Especially in a tiny "kitchen."
Speaking of dishes, I had a little contest with myself the other night to see exactly how many pots and pans I could dirty up to do that evening's meal. It was quite impressive, just so you know. I managed to top it the following night when I used two more than the night before. Rachel Ray's got nothing on me (hahaha)!
My husband was never into sports, especially not car racing. But as of late he has taken up to watching it on television. Full races. Nascar, Formula 51, whatever. Which is great (I guess). But I have to wonder: does he watch it because I'm sitting two feet away doing homework and the sound of the engines disrupts my concentration or because he really enjoys it?
Well, it's quiet now. Naptime. Perhaps when the boys wake from their slumber I'll throw on their swimsuits and let them play in the water sprinkler. Hey, we've got an image to uphold here!!!
Praying for rain.......
Trailertrashtastic (n.)- To emulate or otherwise complete the stereotype of white trash by displaying tires on the lawn, multiple loads of laundry hung out to dry in the front yard (unmentionables included) in full display of the trailer park, children playing wearing only diapers or underwear, all while drinking a beer and watching car racing on television (via antennae, of course).
If I did not have my sense of humor then my life would be very disturbing at times. To save money we decided to only wash last week's clothes at the laundromat and bring them home to line dry. Perhaps the best way to do this is at one load at a time, but we had four. So our yard resembled something between a yard sale and a scene from the movie Twister Sunday afternoon.
We had to bug bomb the RV. I had endured my final flying insect and spider, so yesterday when I woke up I pronounced Sunday would be "bomb day." We loaded the cats into the crate, dog and children (and cats) into the car, set off the foggers, and set out to the park to try and kill the four hours required to annihialate small creatures and insects. The park did not allow pets, so we put them under a shade tree and let the boys play. It's hot in Huntsville in June. Like middle of the sun, ninth circle of hell, core of the Earth hot. And it doesn't rain. Ever (apparently). So the moral of that little story is do not bug bomb your house in July in Huntsville if you have no indoor options in which to pass the time. Oh. And the CO2 monitor apparently thinks whatever is in bug fogger is CO2 compatable and continually screamed until the mist settled. TJ went in several times to fan it off. I suggested that perhaps humans were not intended to breathe in the misty fumes, but his response? "I've breathed worse." Great. Does that life insurance policy cover inhalation mistakes? Just curious.
I have also discovered that I only sleep well in our room if our A/C is on "coldest" and turned on all night. Last night (and this had never happend before thus far) I asked TJ to set it to "coldest" so I wouldn't hear the "click" each time the unit went from "fan" to "freon" (or condition or whatever.) He argued that both A/C's turning on at the same time would trip the circuit breaker. I rolled my eyes. He no sooner had turned it on and climbed into bed that the power shut off. Really. What are the chances? I'm telling you if he hadn't put it out there into the universe it would not have happened. The best thing about this little documentation I'm keeping of this journey is that it is from my perspective. I'm sure if you asked his take on much of this he'd have a different story.
We broke down and bought a new laptop. The cheapest version of the best one we could afford. I've got to admit though, with my less than stellar track record with technology and my husband's threat if I break this one, I'm on pins and needles with every keystroke! Speaking of technology, our new little handheld vacuum now overheats after three minutes of use. It's two months old. This time I blame the pet hair and not the operator. Perhaps it's time to invest in a Roomba.
So. During our marriage we have lived in two houses with dishwashers and two houses with a dishwasher named Mommy. I am the only one who ever has or ever will do dishes, except when my mother-in-law has visited and she is wonderful enough to pitch in. My point is that the husband does not, has not, will not do dishes. Have I made my point? It's not that I enjoy doing them, I hated it as a child and like it substantially less now. But unless I want to waste money on disposable dishware, washing dishes myself is the only option. Having said that I would like to throw my husband "under the bus" for a moment. He says (to me), "You're not a very good dishwasher" (or something along those lines)... (A few years back he said "I like the way I clean the bathroom better" then proceeded not to do it for three months. Just making a point here...) I do admit that perhaps my dishwashing abilities are not five-star quality. It's not my favorite job. My family's lucky I do them at all. What I'm trying to get at here is people who live in houses where dishes get done for you should not throw stones. Or dishwater. Or something like that. Especially in a tiny "kitchen."
Speaking of dishes, I had a little contest with myself the other night to see exactly how many pots and pans I could dirty up to do that evening's meal. It was quite impressive, just so you know. I managed to top it the following night when I used two more than the night before. Rachel Ray's got nothing on me (hahaha)!
My husband was never into sports, especially not car racing. But as of late he has taken up to watching it on television. Full races. Nascar, Formula 51, whatever. Which is great (I guess). But I have to wonder: does he watch it because I'm sitting two feet away doing homework and the sound of the engines disrupts my concentration or because he really enjoys it?
Well, it's quiet now. Naptime. Perhaps when the boys wake from their slumber I'll throw on their swimsuits and let them play in the water sprinkler. Hey, we've got an image to uphold here!!!
Praying for rain.......
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