Welcome to the February Fly on the Wall Group Challenge. This month, 5 brave bloggers and I are describing what it would be like if you were to take a peek inside our homes...
Have a "look" around mine, and then go visit the other blogger's pages. There's always something fun, sentimental, or better yet, embarrassing going on. It's like your house, only we're admitting to the craziness. You have our permission. Buzz on over!
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Since I've missed oh, 36 months of this challenge I wanted to think a bit more broadly. During my absence, A fly on the wall would have heard me get called a lot of names around my house (I'll leave that up to your imagination.) I thought I'd share a few of my favorites:
World's Best Mom: You think I'm kidding, right? I really do get called this by my children! I mean, it's only when they need something, but still...
Any of my children: "Would you mind babysitting/ paying for my project/ buying me a new jersey/ making me a costume/ providing this last minute ride, treats, school supplies, organ donation...etc?"
If I say no, I might get called a different name, but I digress. If I say yes, I get a "Thanks!" and get called, "World's Best Mom".
My response: "Well, if I am, where is my trophy?"
It's usually followed by a chuckle. Or a "Sure mom, whatever. But you're still doing that thing for me, right?"
One day last year the UPS driver delivered this. I'm keeping it forever. (as proof). I only cried for three days months straight after receiving it. Now, if I can only figure out a way to stick it on a "Hello My Name is..." tag. I'd wear it everywhere. BTW, When I thanked the child who sent it? They told me to call them, "My favorite child". Nothing is free, people.
I'm supposed to keep this by my front door and show EVERYBODY, right?
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Dork: Ugh. I hate that word. I always have. Knowing this, my best friend decided all on her own that "Dork" would be my name. I affectionately call her "Loser," so I guess it all evens out. We often drop off things for each other in our mailboxes: Borrowed books, jewelry, treats or ransom notes. They're always labeled, "Dork" or "Loser." One day I get a mailbox emoji on my phone, and I know what that means; Loser has left me something. I finish what I'm doing and run out to open the mailbox. All that's inside is a mailer with coupons. When I call "Loser" up to ask what she meant by the emoji, she tells me she left a plate of my favorite Amish cookies for me with a note: "Hey Dork, don't eat these all at once. Love Ya!" Yep. The mailman beat me (very legally, I know.) to the mailbox. He took the cookies. And now I know two things. (besides the fact that I missed out on cookies) My mailman thinks I think he's a dork, and apparently, I now love him! Awesome.
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Gramma Shel: Yes, dear friends, I'm a Grandma! Last May, Alex and Micah (my daughter and her husband) adopted two perfect (my correct opinion) boys. "A." is six and "S." is four. Did I mention they're perfect? If I taught in Elementary Education for all of those years only to collect counting bears and a million books, it was worth it just to entertain and play with these babies. Mark and I are in love with them and the best part? We can give "A." and "S." anything they want and still send them home at the end of the day.
The man and I have it made. "A." likes technology, and "S." likes reading...novels?
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Michael: How hard is it to pronounce my name? I've mentioned this before. My name is Michele. Only one "l". Yet telemarketers and door-to-door salesmen still ask for "Michael".
"Is Mark or Michael there?" they ask.
"No, they're out on a lovely walk right now," I say.
"Who am I speaking to?" they continue.
"This is Michele."
"OK," they say. "Could you have Mark or Michael call/get back to us when they get home?"
"Sure thing, Jellybean." No complaints from me.
"Is Mark or Michael there?" they ask.
"No, they're out on a lovely walk right now," I say.
"Who am I speaking to?" they continue.
"This is Michele."
"OK," they say. "Could you have Mark or Michael call/get back to us when they get home?"
"Sure thing, Jellybean." No complaints from me.
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My first wife: My regular readers know this is what the man calls me. OK, truth be told, the exact words he uses aren't printable. But you get the gist. I get an idea about home improvement, he says we should call a professional. I say we will have fun doing it ourselves and he asks, "Who's WE?"
Wife #2 is going to like everything just the way I made it, right?
-Michele
Please check out this month's participants: