A Good Time to Clean out the Glove Box

Got pulled over this morning on my way to work.  I mean, I saw the State Trooper sitting there.  I even checked my speed.  My immediate thought process was that there was no way I would be pulled over going 82 in a 70 when everyone else normally traveled around 80 mph.  But nooooooo. As soon as I saw the lights come on and the car pull onto the highway I knew I was toast.

So, using my blinkers appropriately and safely reducing my speed, I calmly prepared for the inevitable.

I pulled over and put on my hazards.  Turned my radio to NPR (you never know) and left my hands on the steering wheel in plain sight like I remember you were supposed to do from some article I read once.

Officer Campbell was very nice.  She introduced herself (I felt like I was supposed to say, “Hello, nice to meet you.  My name is Lori.”).  She told me she pulled me over for speeding and asked if I knew what the speed limit was.

I told her:  “It is posted 70 although the law was changed over two (2) years ago to 75 and I was going 82.”  And then I smiled.

She asked for my license, registration and insurance.

License was no problem.  For some reason, I could not easily locate the other in the messy glove compartment that my husband is always bitching about.  Officer Campbell waited a few minutes and then told me she would be back and I could give it to her then.

I continued to shuffle though the extra straws, napkins, menus, matchbooks and some stupid CD that I swear had been transferred to each new vehicle since 2006.  In fact, she took so long I decided to go ahead and clean out my glovebox.  Threw out all the paper goods, straws and the CD.  Neatly compiled all the maintenance papers into one pile.  Placed my tire gauge and the tire changing apparatus in the bottom.  Took out my registration and insurance card and put it in my purse for when she returned.

I handed both of them to her when she came back.  She looked them over and then said I needed to make sure to get an updated insurance card.  Which surprised me because my husband is a real stickler about insurance.

Officer Campbell just gave me a warning.  That was very kind of her.

Had some time to decide how to let my husband know.  My options were:

  1. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work. Let him get all pissy and then tell him I only got a warning.
  2. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work but only got a warning. Thus avoiding the whole pissiness thing.
  3. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work. Take $200 from bank to “pay for the ticket” and spend it at Walmart.
  4. Tell him I got pulled over on my way to work and need $2,500 bail money because I tried to outrun the cop.

Settled with option 2 (paying being nice forward).  But did bitch that my insurance card had expired in 2017.  What is with that?  He told me he gets the new cards, cuts it out and leaves it on the counter and it is my responsibility to make sure it gets into the proper place.  Obviously something I have been ignoring for over two years.

LWL Week in Pictures

Someone should go to jail for leaving three sad Cheetos in a bag!


I went to work and put my iced tea in the freezer.  And then forgot about it. By the time it was lunch, it was completely frozen.  So then I had to put it in front of my little heater on high to melt it.  Lunch was so exhausting that day!

Here is my daughter’s birthday present.  I won’t mail it until next month.  But in the meantime she can review the picture and try to figure out what it is.  Because I know her.

No, this is not days worth of cat food. This is our cat who didn’t like the other two plates of cat food and meowed until he got what he wanted.  Because no one wants to hear him and he is too old to argue with.

Has anyone seen the little lighthouse that was on the counter in the bathroom?

And finally:

Our damn backyard is getting so overgrown with weeds it looks like a Kincaid picture.

If I can’t pronounce it, I probably should not try to make it

It is a well known fact that cooking is not my strong suit.  But periodically I do feel guilty about my husband always having to cook so when that happens I start searching all the recipes online to find one that appeals to me. Which means the recipe has to have listed ingredients that I am familiar with, can be cooked in a crock pot or take less than 20 minutes to make and isn’t heavy on carbs because I know my husband wouldn’t eat it.

While searching, I discovered the recipe for Beef Bourguignon.  I had no idea what I was thinking.  Where do you find pearl onions or cremini mushrooms?  I had to google what kind of red wine you use for cooking and I immediately lost interest when the recipe said to chop carrots into 1 inch cubes.  And don’t even get me started on fresh herbs. (It said one bay leaf. Did you know they come in packs of 100 and cost a lot?  First time I ever seriously thought about stealing a herb leaf from the store).

But I decided to forge ahead and make the damn thing. I knew that I always get brownie points for trying.

So here is the finished plate:

Looks good, right?  And it wasn’t horrible because both my son and husband really liked it. However, I decided I am never cooking with red wine again and went to Wendy’s and got a salad.

I have 99 bay leaves left over if anyone needs one.

Road Trip

My husband and I are about to begin a five-state, 11-hour journey to visit my daughter. If I remember correctly, the last time we tried this my husband quit talking to me for three states. He has already changed our departure time from 8 am to 6 am to 4 am.  At which point I am like “just poke me in the ass and I will grab my pillow and blanket, get in the car and go back to sleep.”

And we are having conversations like this:

Me: Christina wants us to bring the blue Dodger jersey, Cards Against Humanity game and a whisk.

Him: Why do I have to add it to my list?

Me: Because I know you have a list.  I have a post-it note.

I’ve done the most important thing – shopping at the Dollar Tree for a bag full of munchies, 5-hour energy shots, extra sunglasses and toys. (My husband removed the puffy Cheetos).  I even put back the toy that made the clacker noises because I know I can annoyingly do that already without help. But I did keep the glitter.  Because we are going to see my daughter’s boyfriend and it is his birthday and he hates loves glitter. (It’ll be okay – I’ll give him his card outside).

We decided we are going to drive his bat mobile so we spent last Saturday cleaning it inside and out.  Okay, he cleaned it – I just popped my head out a few times to ahhh and oooh over how shiny it was.  I did clean the custom made floor mats and was told I didn’t go a good enough job.  Hence the reason why I never help clean his car. And for the record, I am pretty sure that I will not be doing any of the 11-hour driving.  Not that I can’t but I just don’t see it happening.  But I’ll bring along my 4-inch cushion that I will need to sit on in order to see over the steering wheel.


Bat Mobile

I already did a face time with Christina in her old walk-in closet to see if there was anything she left that she wants us to bring (No).  She is, however, much more interested in kitchen stuff.  So we decided to give her our $25 mixer bowl. I had no idea it was such an expensive mixing bowl until I saw one just like it but smaller at an antique store.  I still have no idea why it is so expensive but since I only use it to store dog food, it is probably going to a better home.

CMJ Bowl

$25 Dollar Bowl

I am preparing the pets that we are leaving them with our son and they are to take whatever means necessary for attention. Boca-cat needs no instructions.  He is already a very talented pain in the ass.  Abbey will need to be a little more forceful than lying next to her empty dog bowl and sighing. My daughter and I had a plan to sneak Abbey into the back seat of the Camaro and bring her with. But my husband would most probably notice an 80-pound Golden Retriever dog in the back seat. Besides, dog hair is not allowed in his car.  Neither is Cheetos which is why I put them back in the munchie bag.

As usual, I will put everything off until the last minute to make sure my husband is irritated.  I will bring it all together in the end though and make sure we leave on time.  But once in the car, all bets are off.

So if I never blog again, please send someone to come look for me.  I was probably left somewhere along Hwy 40.

Entrepreneur at Age 7

There was a recent article on Reddit which asked parents what was the most stupid reason they received a phone call from the school regarding their children.  My favorite was a comment from a mom who said their 7-year-old son got in trouble for selling imaginary friends to first graders for $1.00 each.

I thought that was pretty ingenious and his parents should be pretty impressed.  Which reminds me of a story about my kids when they were around the same age.

I was a Girl Scout Leader and every year you have the much anticipated Girl Scout cookie sale.  One year I ended up having to be the “cookie mom” which meant we had hundreds of cookie boxes stacked in my dining room at home. Toward the end of the sale season, I ended up with a number of unsold cookies.  I moved them into the bottom of the pantry and there they sat.

Months later, my kids ended up with some money.  Knowing that a 7 and 9-year-old was too young to be gainfully employed, it wasn’t hard to get them to confess that they took all the unsold Girl Scout cookies from the pantry, stacked them in their little red wagon and sold them in the neighborhood.  All. Of.  Them.  And they had a pretty good stash of money for their efforts.  My daughter was pretty quick to throw her brother under the bus that it was his idea and I am pretty sure she was right.  But it also showed that she didn’t exactly shut the idea down, either.

So here I am trying to be a good parent with two elementary kids who have $60 and no way to know how to give the money back to the unsuspecting neighbors who purchased old, stale Girl Scout cookies.  Ultimately I made sure the kids knew that what they did was wrong and we donated the money to our church.  Which they were not too happy about but lesson learned.

I wonder if they could use this as an example of entrepreneurial spirit on their resumes.

LWL Musings #68

  • I had just finished chopping a bunch of parsley and thyme and then had to drop off my son. While we were in the car I asked him to smell my fingers (because, honestly they smelled really, really good!)  He said no.


  • Went to a motel recently and they had this in their lobby:Vagina Rug

(And now I have a picture titled “Vagina Rug” on my computer).

  • I took an online test called “What is your True Mental Age?”  Evidently mine is 12.


  • I purchased 20 candy bars to give to my staff.  Unfortunately I left them in my car while I went to a meeting before work. They melted.  I so wish I could say that I did not eat 20 melted candy bars…


  • (April 15, 2019) DEAR MISS MANNERS: May I call my doctors, including dentists, by their first names? I have been their patient for almost 20 years.

    GENTLE READER: And therefore you feel you are on the same terms with them as others with whom you take off your clothes or welcome into your mouth?

    Miss Manners does not recommend dispensing with the formality of professional relationships, which makes that useful distinction.

    BAM!  She nailed it!



My Man Skills

There was a recent quiz on MSN.com:  “Are your ‘Man Skills’ Above Average? Take the test and find out!  So of course I had to take the test even though I already know I excel in man skills.


  • When hanging a picture, you look for a ____in the wall. (Stud)
  • When hiking, what should you wear to avoid snake bites? (Stud.  To carry you. Duh).
  • What is the bottom of a paddle for a canoe called?  (The first choice was Shaft.  I didn’t make it past that answer)
  • In poker, will two pair beat three of a kind?  (That’s what she said)
  • How do you avoid getting tired and drowning if stuck in water without a personal flotation device? (Grab a Stud – Wait. Is that is considered a personal flotation device?)
  • How do you pour beer into a cup?  (I am not even going to answer; this is a complete affront to my manliness)
  • With hands-only CPR, you should push where?  Possible answers are:  Stomach, Chest, Throat, and Forehead.  I would have to ask a clarifying question:  Do you like the person you are trying to save?
  • When changing a flat tire, what should you do before raising the car? (Call a Stud).
  • A compass needle always points where?  (To the Stud)

I am really good at these!

  • Where should you look when shaking hands?  (Depends on how uncomfortable you want him to feel…)
  • What should you use to start a fire?  (Correct answer is Tinder but then I got confused because I was looking for a stud on tinder).
  • Where should you kick a door to knock it down?  (Depends on how studly the guy is on the other side)
  • When ironing a shirt, the shirt should be what?  (On a stud – Correction – DAMP stud)
  • What should you use to clean a grill?  (The stud from next door)

Seriously, I only missed one question about football.  I am just amazed how easy it was to incorporate the word stud into this quiz.  Maybe I should find the female counterpart test and see if I can do the same with the word Vixen or Babe Cake or Fox.  (And yes, I had to google “What is the female equivalent to stud?” and then I was offended when Slut came up).

So I guess I will have to create my own version. Then again maybe not since it would probably have to include questions about housework.