Operation "Housework Sucks More Than Homework"

 OR

 As a single mom I have to do things that I’d rather not do.
 Take out the trash, change patio light bulbs, fix the fence, mow the lawn etc...
 I do have two teen aged daughters who think I am nuts for complaining about these tasks, but do they volunteer to do them? No.
 “Mom, we don’t need anyone else to do those things, we can do them.” says my oldest.
 By “we,” she means “me” as in “I" her mother.
 Apparently my kids think I can do anything.
 The fence is won’t close, call mom. The dishwasher is leaking, mom will fix it. The dog puked in the bathroom, let mom clean it up.
 Rarely do they tackle the mundane difficulties of life on their own.
 Obviously it is my fault they are so out of touch. The only requirement I have for them is straight A’s on report cards. For years they have fulfilled this one requirement. But of late, the second letter in the alphabet has been showing up.
 So, it is time to launch operation “Housework Sucks More Than Homework.”
 What does this plan entail you ask?
 Upon arriving home from school a fifteen minute respite is issued for snack-age and unwinding. Then all electronic social/reading/gaming/etc... devices will be removed from teenage access.    Homework will then be started and completed at the kitchen table, where I can oversee their efforts.  Once lessons are complete a task must be performed before the return of electronic devices.
 Those task include and are not limited to;

• Bedroom cleaning: make the bed, put away clean clothes,vacuum if the room smells like feet.
• Bathroom sanitizing:  spray and wipe off every surface in room, INCLUDING the toilet.
• Living room purification: dust all surfaces, remove all cups, plates, ketchup bottles, soda cans, gum wrappers, chip bags, socks, shoes, retainers and anything else left in front of the television!
• Laundry room purging: wash, dry, fold and put away everything made of fabric. 
• Kitchen ablution: empty dishwasher of clean dishes and reload with the pile of dishes left in the sink for me to deal with.
• Outdoor decontamination: pick up and throw away the dog poo from our yard.

 Now many people would think my kids would just take forever to finish the homework to avoid these task. Not so, to my kids, their electronic devices are vital.
 Without their i-devices how could they communicate with their friends? What would they talk about at school if they couldn't access Tumblur.com?  Who would they fan-girl with about the Supernatural guys?  Where would they look to find out about the weather? When would they get up without their alarm clock app? Their lives would shatter without access to the internet.
 So, their dependency on these devices is just the ticket for me to use to get my way.
 It is my goal that my girls to grow up and be intelligent, strong, independent women who kick butt and make lots of money. So I will commence with operation "Housework Sucks More Than Homework” to get them to my goal.
  Hopefully they will continue to help around the house once their grades are back up, but I doubt it. No, I know it. I’m mom, in their eyes, I can do anything.

Robo-calls

 I was wondering what to write about today when a phone call answered my question.
Ring, ring...
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hi, this is Pam, can  I speak to the elderly person in your home?”
 Elderly person?
I did a quick head count of the inhabitants of our house and could only tag my 9 year old dog as possibly being elderly. Figuring she didn’t want to speak to the dog, I asked her to whom she was referring.
“Edgar Allen Poe” she answered.
Now don’t laugh, my ex’s grandfather was named after the famous poet with only a one letter change in the name. (Allan - for famous guy, Allen - for family member.)
“Unless you can commune with the dead, your not going to speak to him. He died in 1980.”
 Click.
 I get calls for geriatric services all the time. Somehow my phone number ended up on some master list as having an elderly person at my residence. I am 45 and the last time I checked 45 wasn’t elderly. (J-Lo is 45 and she defiantly isn’t elderly.)
 Usually, the calls are no big deal. I tell the caller there is no one here who qualifies for their services and ask them to take my phone number off their list. They say sorry and end of call.
 Occasionally however, I will get some poor sap who won’t take no for an answer. They vomit their script into the phone without giving me any chance to let them down easy.
 Ring, ring.
”Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Mara and we at, blah blah company, senior services want to let you know about the wonderful programs we have for Medicare part B applicants...”  says the caller
“But..” I say”
“This is not a sales call. You qualify for this, one time, special offer to sign up at no additional cost to you..” she rapid fires on.
“But...” I repeat.
“So Mr. Poe what do you say, do you want to sign up for our service?” she concludes.
“No. Mr. Poe does not live here. He...” I say.
“That is okay, Mrs. Poe, we can offer you the same special at no additional cost to you...” she interrupts.
“Wait!” I yell into the phone. “How old is Mr. Poe?”
“Uhh,” she stumbles “Over 65.”
“That man lied to me!” I screamed into the receiver and hung up on her.
 I did feel marginally sad for ending the call so abruptly, but golly, Mara was a talker.
 My dad has the most fun with sales calls of anyone I know.
 He is very patient with the salesperson and answers their questions very slowly letting the salesperson think they have a bite. He will ask questions relating to the service to get their hopes up. Then he will start telling them about his life growing up poor and struggling to make ends meet. He will tell them about how hard he worked to gain the financial security he has built for himself and his family. Finally, he will say he isn’t a dumb old geezer and tells the phone representative they will never get “one red cent” out of him and to have a nice day.
 Usually his approach works, but one day Dad answered the phone and the person on the other end was one of those “vomit-the-script” sales people.  Dad let the guy drone on.
“So would you like me to mail you some information on our offer?”
“No,” said dad.
“Don’t worry we have your address and I can overnight it to you for your consideration. I’ll let you review our product and call you in a few days to see what you think.”
Dad literally pulled the phone away from his face and looked at the receiver and said...
“If you just have to, but I am not interested.”
“Great, I will call you in a few days.”
Dad rolled his eyes and hung up.
The next day Fed-Ex showed up with a packet for dad. It was some kind of investment thing that required thousands of dollars to buy into. To me it looked like fraud, to dad it looked like recycling.
That afternoon the guy called.
 “Well, what did you think about our offer” he asked dad.
 “I didn’t” said dad.
 “What! If you were not serious about getting into the ground floor of this investment opportunity why did you have me overnight you the paperwork” sales guy asked.
 “I told you I wasn’t interested. You are the one who decided to overnight the papers. Don’t call me again."
 Click.
 I thought dad handled the yahoo well.
 Another ploy I use to avoid robo calls is to not say hello upon answering the phone. I will wait a few seconds and listen for the tell tale click that lets me know a computer dialed my number and an operator will be on the line shortly. So I hang up.
 This practice has led to many of my friends thinking I have a phobia about talking on my home phone.
Ring, ring.
I pick up the receiver and stay silent.
“Sally, you there?"
“Oh, hi! I’m just making sure you are not a sales call. What’s up...”
 So to avoid the silent treatment my friends call my cell.
 However, my cell phone number has recently made it onto a robo call list. The only people I give my cell number to are my friends, my doctor, my insurance and my kid’s school. So either the doc, the insurance or the district is selling my info. (My vote is on the insurance. Those money grubbing leaches will drain every last drop out of you.)
 So not only am I bombarded with irritating sales calls at home, I now get them anywhere I go.
 Sure the caller I.D. says “private caller”,  but it could be my Bestie calling from jail needing me  to bail her out from something she did that I suggested she do. So I answer.
“Hi my name is Mara, we at blah, blah, blah...”
 End call.
 I think I’ll just change my numbers.

  If you suspect you have been contacted by a person trying to defraud you contact the U.S. postal inspectors and fill out a mail fraud complaint. Here is a URL to the form.
 http://ehome.uspis.gov/fcsexternal/

Looking for Mr. Right

I have not been very lucky in love.
For awhile I was, but now, not so much.
I have been a single mom for 8 years and I’ve finally realized, I have NO clue how to get a date.
I have tried just about everything. Set ups, online dating sites, divorced dads and church groups.  I am such a looser.
Here is a what I have learned on my journey to find Mr. Right.
The first experience I had in the dating pool was a set up, it was an eye opening experience to say the least...
 My friend found this guy through work she thought would be good for me and asked if she could give him my number. I said yes, I was newly divorced and trusted my friend. He called and we talked and decided to meet in person. On the phone he was great, good conversationalist, funny and seemed normal. In person he was nice to look at, funny and still easy to talk to. It was going great, until he told me about having his laptop stolen. I thought no big deal, sure it was a financial burden, but everyone backs up their laptop so info is safe. Well this guy didn’t back up his stuff and he told me that pictures of him and his ex-girlfriend naked in “creative activities” could end up on the internet. My view of him as normal went swoosh and I ran away as fast as I could.
 I told my friend to lay off setting me up.
 Then I tried online dating.
 I thought my profile was pretty good. My pics were attractive, my interest varied and my requirements honest.
   I knew I’d have to weed through some frogs to find a prince, but I was willing to give it a go.
Little did I know the princes who filled my in-box would be holding up their latest kill or catch, sitting on their mid-life crisis vehicle or smiling into the camera with their arm draped around a cut-out female.
Ever the optimist, I thought “that’s okay, I’m not against hunting, I enjoy a day on the water fishing, driving a good vehicle can be fun and that must be his sister he cut out of the pic."
So I responded to them, “Hi, I like your profile want to message me?”
Boy, oh boy, did I get the message.
“Hey baby want to get together?” 
“You sure look good in those glasses, want to play librarian and the bad boy?” 
“I’m married, are you interested in helping me and my wife spice up our marriage?”
 Click, I deactivated my account.
 So I decided to check out the single dads in my area. (Yup, I trolled the elementary school Spring Carnival in my best outfit and tightest Spanks.) I thought, with the divorce rate now and days surely there would be a man in my area right?
 There was. He and I dated for awhile, but we were just not right for each other. So we decided to just be friends.
 So I thought I needed some advice on how to find Mr. Right. Where? Well in crap romance novels of course!
 I thought I could learn some ideas on how to find the right guy for me.  All I learned was romance novel guys are billionaries with commitment issues, eight pack stomachs,  hero complexes and more baggage than a high school marching band on a road trip. No human male could live up to a romance novel guy. That is why romance novel guys are FICTION!
 Now, I have finally, I decided to try church.
 I probably would have better luck going to a mega church with a singles’ department, but my daughters like the tiny church in our area and I like it too.
 I have always known the best man for me is in church. Well, he is with me always, but I don’t always listen to him. His name... Jesus.
Yes, I know some of you will think it is corny, but for me, He works. (Don’t judge!)
 I pray for a mate who will love me and want to share his life with me and I know one day I’ll meet him.
Until then i am going to keep walking down the road of life, stumbling and messing up along the way. I will try and make good decisions, but I know I will jack up over and over again.
 So, I am just going to wait for Mr. Right to find me.
(He can look for me in the car pool line. I’ll be the one on a laptop, with the glasses, reading a crappy romance novel!)

The Last Square

Why is it that grocery store items are shrinking?
Once upon a time products in the American grocery store were larger and less expensive. Sugar came in a five pound bag, coffee was one pound and toilet paper filled up the holder width wise.
Now and days sugar has shrunk to four pounds, coffee is around 12 ounces and toilet paper...well it just isn’t as big as it used to be.
Are Americans shrinking? Are cakes and candies smaller? Are fewer people having a cup of joe each morning?
No.
Sure the American consumer can kick the sugar and coffee habits, but what about toilet paper????
That is one product that every person needs daily. Americans are not getting smaller we are getting bigger. (If we are shrinking like the products on grocery isles why are there so many weight loss products and programs out there? ) We eat more junk and drink more calorie rich beverages, consequently we are expanding all over. With this increase in our sizes, do we go to the bathroom more often?
Hmmm...
 Growing up I never cared about the size of the roll. It was just there on the holder waiting to be put to use. Now that I am an adult with two teenagers, the size of the roll bugs me.
Nothing is worse than completing my business then looking at the holder to see only one square left on the roll. One square won’t finish the job.
 Sure, my teens could have set a new roll beside the holder for anyone with future need of the product, but that would have required consideration for others. Instead, I’m left on the throne
with one square for a job that requires more than a single sheet.
 I don’t blame my kids completely for the lack of necessary paper work to do the job. I get mad at the fact I changed the stupid roll two days ago and it is out now!
 Growing up mom would change the roll and it would last at least a week. (Yes, I see the connection.) I rarely had to swap out the empty tube for a full one because there was more product on the roll!
 Now I’m left walking like a criminal in leg shackles to the cabinet where the spares are kept to finish what I started. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and find only the plastic wrapper of the 6 pack I bought last week. (A fountain of colorful adjectives spring from my mouth and sends the dog into a barking frenzy outside the bathroom door.) Looking around for something to use as a replacement my eyes land on the box of lotion infused tissues and a container of cotton balls. I consider the cotton balls for about a second then hobble over and grab the box of tissue.
 Tissues are not made for the specific job I need them for, but they work. (Plus my bum felt softer and moisturized.) The tissue is far more expensive than toilet paper and is used far less frequently than t.p. ergo, it is more expensive.
 We are not a super fancy, uber quilted, three ply bum wipes kind of family. We use plain old two ply from the grocery store. I buy that product because my mom bought plain old two ply growing up. It worked then, it should work now.
 Not so much.
 Looking at a roll of toilet paper on the roll holder in my mom’s 30 year old home made me realize the product of today isn’t the same as as it used to be. Back in the day the roll nearly took up all the space on the holder. Today, you could almost fit two rolls side by side on the spring loaded thing.
 What has happened people????
 I would love to see the person responsible for the shrinking of the roll get stuck in the bathroom with only one square, a case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome and a piece of sandpaper. Maybe then they would regret shrinking the sheet!
 It is doubtful any corporate head will read this rant and decide to change back to the size toilet paper roll of my youth. (Sigh.) Or that products on grocery store shelves will stop shrinking in efforts to boost profits.(Double sigh.)
 However, one thing that will change is me.
 I will check the roll before sitting down.