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Thursday, April 28, 2016

WTF - How sound like a smart Mom

I thought I would share with you some terms our kids are using so you too can sound like a smart mom.

Just like me!

Yas or Yaaaassss or YAAASSSSSS  Pronounced, (ya-e-ssss)

The term Yes is now replaced with Yas when there is excitement conveyed in the statement.

Yes, I made it to my biology test on time.
YAS! Kirby said she likes you!

See the difference!

"YAS! I finally fit in my Mom Jeans!!"


BAE  pronounced   (B-AYE)

This has now replaced Baby or Babe because it means "Before Anyone Else."

My husband calls me BAP - "Before Pabst Blue Ribbon" I know I am special.

"Wolfgang, Bae and I are at the grocery store, do you want anything?"


RATCHET pronounced like it sounds, (RA-T-CHET)

This terms is used when someone's looks or behaviors are less than desirable.

"You are wearing that too school, it's too RATCHET."


ROAST - pronounced like it sounds, (ROA-ST)

Calling someone out in public, giving them a hard time, it now has nothing to do with the chicken in the oven.

"Your Dad roasted Uncle Greg about his shirt, then realized he had the same one on!"


TurnT - Pronounced (TURN-HT)

Acting crazy, having, fun being social at a party.

"Book club is meeting for a glass of wine, who knows we may get TurnT!"


I CAN'T EVEN pronounced as (AH-CAN'T-EVUN)

Showing disbelief or expressing revulsion to a person.

"Oh my god, Mrs. ONeal wore Cheetah Leggings to yoga today, I can't even!"


#BLESSED pronounced (BUH-LESSED)

This actually means you are blessed.

"Found a bottle of wine behind the Captain Crunch.  #blessed"


ON FIRE pronounced (ON FI-RUH)

To do something great and be unstoppable

"Did you see me dancing in the carpool line to Maroon 5, I was on FIRE!"


#MCM or #WCM

This is where you show your BAE love on a Monday. Literally it means, "Man Crush Monday" or "Woman Crush Monday" Some may also use it for friends they hope become a BAE.

"Why didn't you LIKE the sexy picture I posted of your Dad? #MCM"

T-UP pronounced (TEEE-UP)

When things are going to get a little crazy, when you are planning on getting TurnT!"

"They had my wine on sale at Costco, I'm going to T-TUP at the Shabahzi house!"



When you are supposed to be sorry but you are not sorry. YOLO (You only live once) usually follows this.

Dad: Mom did you really throw away my 1975 velvet shirt?
Mom: Sorry Bout It

Friend: Did I really finish that bottle of wine last night?
Mom: Sorry Bout It, YOLO

Mom to teenager, "Have you become my friend on Facebook? I'm way more RATCHET on Facebook! #SORRYBOUTIT  Son?  Son?"

And finally the emojis:

I have no idea what any of them mean.

I thought the piece of shit was a Hershey kiss.

I accidentally send a syringe because I thought it was a magic wand.

Oh, and if you see the eggplant on your child's phone this is supposed to be a certain part of the male anatomy, I'll leave that up to your imagination.

You are welcome.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

WTF - Operation B of my Covert Plan

Plan A is working perfectly. I'm hiding ONE piece to his ratchet set. Now to work on Covert Operation B.....

Operation Produce Section Disappearance

We are walking around the grocery store and I think, "Oh, I forgot I need Cheetos."

(OK, there are some of us that do NEED Cheetos, don't judge OK?)

I do what any normal person does, goes and gets the Cheetos.

Coming back finding cart is abandoned soI push it further through the store shopping, right?.

There he is:

Me: Why are you in the dog food aisle? We don't need dog food?

Him: I was looking for you.

Me: Why?

Him: Because you were hiding from me?

Mr: Why would I hide from you?

Him: Because that is what you do when we go grocery shopping.

Me: What? I don't hide from you, I'm just grocery shopping.

Him: Oh really? Then why couldn't I find you?

Me: Um, duh, because you were in the dog food aisle and we don't need dog food?

He takes the cart continuing into the Beer Cave, I wait with him as he compares the craft beer against his PBR.

Dang! This is ten dollars more than my PBR!

Then I remember:

"I forgot to get cheese."

Repeat scenario above.

This time he sees me with the cart at the other end of the store and decides maybe if he embarrasses me about hiding behind the dog food while he shops I won't do it anymore.

Him, shouting from one end of the store to the other, "There you are! Where are you hiding now?"

I look at him, oh, two can play at this game, so I shout across the store:

"Getting your jock itch cream!


Guess I better make sure the will is up to date before I move onto Covert Operation C!

Saturday, April 23, 2016

WTF - My Covert Operation

My husband thinks I have some type of covert operation on him, that I am trying to drive him crazy

One day at a time.

He is convinced I'm hiding
things from him. We have this wonderful conversation looking for things:

Him: Did you put away my whatchamacallit?

Me: Why would I put away your whatchamacallit? I don't even use your Whatchamacallit.

Him: But my whatchamacallit isn't where I usually put it.

Me: Did you put it somewhere else?

Him: Why would I put it somewhere else?

Me: Because you needed it there?

Him: I only need it where I usually put it and it is not there.

Me: So where is it?

Him: That's what I am asking you?

Rinse, Repeat entire conversation from the beginning.

Usually after we spend 15 minutes following each other around the house.

Him: There it is, why is my Whatchamacallit there?

Me: I don't know, did you put it there?

Him: Why would I put it there?

Me: Because that's where it is, right?

Him: You moved it, didn't you?

Me: Why would I move it? I don't even use your Whatchamacallit. Put it where you can find it the next time.

-------------------------------------------------15 minutes later----------------------------------------

Him: Have you seen my Doohickey?

Me: Isn't it over there where you usually put it?


So far, my evil plan is working.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

WTF - But Officer!

As many of you dear readers know, I moved to a very small town (total of 350 full time residents during off seasons) and no, it was not to avoid federal custody capture, but to slow down when it came to life.

Well, that didn't work.

Just ask the nice police officer who pulled me over this morning.

Right in the middle of the parkway, where all 349 people can see my white mini cooper with the blue lights flashing behind it.

Did I mention I received 10 text messages from friends within 5 minutes of getting pulled.
"Oh Kel got hit by the PoPo!"
"Do you need bail money?"
"What did you do now?"
"I heard there are a lot of cute girls in jail nowadays."
"Show him your boobs."

I love my friends.

So I thought about possibly showing my boobs to get out of the ticket, but the only people interested in those now a days is National Geographic.

The officer walks up to my car, I fluff my hair, turn off the radio (because I am respectful, "I like big butts" shouldn't be playing while I negotiate with the officer) commence looking for the necessary items (license - not fishing but driving - registration)

"Good morning Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?"  Why do they always ask you that? Of course not, because I'd hit the brakes as soon as I saw your cop car if I knew I was speeding.

"Uh no, I'm sorry. I was running late to a workout class." I'm thinking, that's probably the lamest excuse from a sober person he's ever heard.

"42 MPH in a 25 MPH zone, and you went left of the line."

"Well shit, that fast?" I did hit the brakes when I saw him, how could I still be going that fast? Then I realize cussing probably is not going to help my case, maybe I should go down the boob road. But how do you get a sports bra off gracefully? Not a chance in hell.

***Of course, I'm thinking there's no one else out here, all the 349 people are either still in bed or off the mountain.

"I'm going to go run your plates." Why does this make me nervous? I'm not in Fast and Furious (well maybe in the speed department) My car is up to date, why does that line make me feel like an outlaw?

So what do I do? I snapchat a few pictures back to my friends saying:
"Cute cop, may have to show the boobs.
"Will orange look good on me?"
"Can you bring me your license, he doesn't believe the age on mine."

He comes walking back with a pad, well crap.

"I'm going to write you a warning today. I'd hate to hit a deer going that fast in your car."

A warning? I slowly lower my shirt. How did I get so lucky. I text my friends a picture of the warning.

"He said I was nice and polite and only gave me a warning," I text my friends.

"Obviously you didn't show him your boobs." One replied.

Thanks a lot.

Thursday, April 14, 2016


You've come to this spot from my old blog, Blue Ridge and RV.

Don't worry, all the posts are still there, I just renamed it:

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