Friday, August 23, 2013

Onion Ring Wars: Part 2

When Mom and Dad went on their million year road trip in June, they missed Sara's birthday. They didn't forget about her, though. Mom paid Sara's coworkers to take her out to a birthday lunch that day. That's how much our parents care. At any rate, nobody's schedule synced up until this last weekend to do a family birthday dinner. This last weekend also happened to be Jesse's 33rd birthday (toot toot!) so we had a big combined shebang. It was a typical family dinner setting: the boys out back shooting their arrows, Will pooping his pants and being generally adorable, Sara and Lindsay drinking beer and somehow managing to not spill any on Will whilst holding him, Mom cooking up a storm, Grandma Dee drinking scotch, and Grandma listening to Fox News and insulting her cat. Oh, and Tucker has been doing a lot of sulking because he's no longer the most adorable member of the family.

While Mom was throwing together the beer batter for the onion rings:

Mom: I put sriracha in the beer and it foamed up.
Lindsay: That's because there's vinegar in sriracha.
Mom: That's what it is!

While Mom was frying the onion rings:

Mom: Sara, you have to wait until everyone gets an onion ring before you get one.
Sara: What?! Why?
Mom: Because you're an onion ring hog.
Sara: I am NOT! EVERYONE is an onion ring hog!
Mom: Well it's Jesse's birthday,
Sara: It's MINE too!
Mom: No it's not!
Sara: It is since we never celebrated it! It was your idea to make this a combined birthday dinner. You didn't even want to get me a present! You thought letting me house sit counts as a present!
Mom: No! I got you a lovely flower arrangement with herbs.
Lindsay: Just what every 60 year old cat lady wants. A fucking herbed flower arrangement.

Later we gave William a bath because the neck cheese accumulation in his neck rolls was just too much. Mom and Dad also have a giant kitchen sink, so it's easy to just toss him in there.

Dad: That's a pretty impressive nutsack for an infant!
Mom: He's just jealous.

See? Baby in the sink!

I cropped out his weenie. You didn't think I'd actually post a picture of my son's package on the internetz for all you perverts to look at, did you?

Friday, August 16, 2013

We're Back!

Holy SHIT it’s been so long since we’ve posted anything on this blog, I almost forgot we were the ones who wrote it! Here I was, thinking “who are these hilarious bitches?” Then I figured it out. And I patted myself on the back for being so damn wonderful.

So since I’m sure everyone reading knows by now, there is a very good reason that we haven’t been posting as much lately…Lindsay had an alien.


A parasite?

Crap. That’s not it either…

I don’t remember the word for it but he’s small and wriggly and needy and will steal your heart with his little face. We considered writing about the big day in the hospital but…we were otherwise preoccupied. In between contractions Lindsay wasn’t exactly thinking “I wonder if Sara’s writing this all down for a blog post later? Because this shit is amusing as all hell.”

Anyways. Let’s get up to speed on where everyone’s lives are at since William graced us with his presence in June, shall we? Let’s see here…

Mom and Dad went on a road trip to Arizona for a million years while Sara and Grandma threw keggers at their house and generally just fucked shit up. Lindsay’s been smearing poop in William’s hair and spilling beer on him every chance she gets. Jesse’s been experimenting with various styles of facial hair to see which one makes him look the most like a predator. And Tucker? He’s just been all emo now that there’s a new guy pilfering all of his attention and cuddles.

Since Lindsay’s been preoccupied, our email threads have been far less entertaining. But here’s one between Mom and I after I was brutally attacked while at work:


…I made Cameron kill it for me. Christie just laughed at me running away going “Your sister just gave fucking birth and look at you whimpering over a fucking spider.”……I have no regrets.

Mom: Well, to your credit, you didn’t have to assist in the birth, so a spider is still worse than sitting in a waiting room. 

Sara: I told them daddy traumatized me by throwing them at me when I was young. He’s not here to defend himself.
Note: though he didn't *actually* throw any spiders at me, he would totally mime chucking them in my face to make me flinch. I wasn't lying about the trauma. Just the method.

Mom: My lovely children. 

Sara: You’d do the same thing don’t even lie.

Mom: What same do I do?  Run from spiders?  I don’t think so.

Sara: Throw daddy under the bus to defend yourself.

Mom: Oh, that.  I do that in my sleep.

When Mom and Dad went on that road trip, I housesat for them. My first attempt at bringing all of my work things with me for the next morning didn’t go so well, as I informed Lindsay the next day in an email:

Sara: I went back to Mom and Dad’s last night to housesit. I forgot:

A bra

So now I’m at the office with my hair fucked up, 1 inch leg hair in a short skirt (that’s all I brought with me for work today), smelling like a 50 year old man, and no bra.

I don’t think I’ll ever have my life all together.

Lindsay: That’s okay. Will managed to poop on his bedroom wall. He got his first bath last night because when Jesse was changing him, he pooped and then peed in his own face. FUCKING HILARIOUS. Jesse and I have been eating a lot of ice cream and drinking a lot of beer. I'm constantly wondering if my one-beer-an-hour strategy is actually OK or if William's meals are spiked with alcohol. 

Okay. I think that brings everything about up to speed at the present. Which is a Friday afternoon at the office. Dad is usually in a good mood on Fridays, but today he’s particularly chipper. You can always tell because he will absolutely refuse to stop trolling people. Here are a few things I’ve heard come out of his mouth since he arrived this morning:

Celeste: Brock, I’ve got to leave for a few minutes to run to the doctor. I’ll be back soon.

Dad: *loudly yelling across the office floor* Is it because you have AIDS?

Celeste: Shit no!

Dad: Oh, so you’re pregnant then? NICE!

A company-wide email was sent out with details on Friday Husky potlucks. There’s something like six UW alumni in our office compared to two Cougs. I, for one, feel forced into a hostile work environment…but when I tried to file a complaint they told me it was unfounded. Humph. Dad decided to hit reply-all and sent this:

 “About 80% chance you guys will lose to Boise”

Then a single email just to me...:

“…if this is what HUSKY nation is all about I’ll be a COUG…pussies.”

Later, a coworker sent Dad and me a lunch invitation:

Christie: Ray and I are going to eat Mexican (sit outside) if you two weirdos want to join.

Dad: Not me bitches. I got important shit to do.

Christie: Punkassbitch (both of you)