C.B. eerrrr. I shutter to think of it! it stands for.... sigh... Cry Baby. argh!
C.B., C.B., you're a C.B. .......evil. evil. evil.
And, I WAS the baby in the house. the youngest of two... But, it wasn't just me that these words could bring to a boiling temper tanterum, oh no! not just me. :) Right Nache? Yes, my sister couldn't bare to be called a C.B. either. We were all awful in the teasing department. I beleive this is where I learned to find a lot of humility.
These are the things in life that often escape me... I'm the "da".
A key factor into this Amy Moment is that this had taken place very early on in my dating relationship with Brandon. Much before we were ever living together. This is back in the day when we actually had those things you call "dates". This is key.
So, we're spending some cozy time at my place; just hanging out and watching TV. Brandon was sitting on the couch and I came over to sit on his lap (like young couples do). He responds "oh, don't do that. I have to pee & you're pushing on my bladder." I stared at him - I'm sure as though I thought he was full of hooey. (that's sh!t in Amy language).
He says "What? I really do have to pee." And, in my infamous wisdom, I unfortunately respond "Ya, but guys don't have bladders."
Seriously, I'm not sure why he didn't run for the hills.
He thought we'd entertain this theory and asked "Well, then where do you think we keep it?" and, in yet another bright moment I answer "In your peeny." (girls have hoo-hoos)
In short, I was wrong.
This has been a favorite family story. In fact, it was shared with his aunt, uncle and cousin on their way to see our new born neice. As we were all oogling and awing over little Hannah, I was asked about bladders... nice.
I hope you enjoyed it as much as they have because I'm fairly certain, I will never live it down!
So I blindly back out of the driveway and not until my back wheels had gone into it and I heard the loud crunching and scraping of the underside of the car did I realize that I'd done a bad thing. But I was half way thru, so what can you do? So I continued across and into the street. I put the car in drive and accelerated, and it seems, but I can't be certain, that the car is a bit throaty. So I test it, and yes, it's true. crud. Luckily for me, this was our older Grand Am and not the newer Mazda. but still..
Learning from my mistake, I decided not to do the same thing twice when I returned home. So I parked on the street and got the snow blower out. I started to try to clear the snow, but the snow blower was not chewing thru it. This is when i learned it's actually ice and that snow blowers do not chew thru ice very well. So the thing clogs and shuts off. I panic, because this is Brandon's new toy. I cleared out the ice and with great relief it starts back up. I pull the lever to spin the blades and there's a loud clunking sound. aaaaah crud. I swiftly put it in the garage and get a shovel to finish the path. and then I anxiously await Brandon's arrival home from work.
He recieved the news about the car well... but not so much for the snow blower. I really, really, really hope that it's minor. maybe a piece of ice is lodged in there and all it needs to do is melt? can I be that lucky??? we'll see... I keep his life exciting. I'm pretty sure.
So, I was laying in bed while Brandon was folding his clothes. The Throw Down with Bobby Flay was on and they were doing a Philadelphia cheese steak cook off. For their guest judge, they had none other than Benjamin Franklin himself. Me, in my Amy-moment-fashion, says to Brandon "That's not really him, is it?" note the question mark. and damned if I didn't say it in question tone too. When Brandon turned and looked at me, the look on his face gave me the answer to my question. then he asks "are you serious?"
I pulled the blanket over my head and wondered why I couldn't have made that a statement rather than a question. Did you know that Benjamin Franklin is long passed? and I have to say, although I've obviously never seen the man, it was a damn good look-alike. so there. that's my defense.
Even so, Gramma did take us girls on "dates". We'd go to movies... Gramma would bring the largest purse ever and fill it with candy bars and sodas... :) sorry movie theatres! She'd take us shopping. We'd get a set amount of money and get to pick out whatever we wanted for Christmas, but then Gramma would take the gifts and wrap them... by the time Christmas rolled around, we'd have mostly forgotten what we purchased. We'd go to the local pizza parlor and Gramma would bring lots of quarters so we could play Ms. Packman and Gallaga!!! ah yeah. We'd go to Circus Circus (a large arcade). Again with lots of quarters, but we also happened to have a close family friend that worked there and he'd bring us buckets of tokens and tickets to play and win all kinds of crazy toys. We'd be there for hours. Gramma would just sit and drink coffee in the dining area and us girls would just go until we got bored.
When Gramma wasn't entertaining us kids or shopping with Angie, she was working - or cleaning - or roofing the house - or cleaning the cars - or sweeping the porch. Seriously, if I had a fraction of the energy of that woman, I'd.... probably drive Brandon more nutz. :) And she still does all of that. She still works; full time. She loves to work and stay busy. Gramma did take several years off of work to care for Grampa when his health deteriorated. Amazing the stuff she put up with to care for him - and apparently he wasn't the easiest patient - imagine that!? :)
Gramma always has worked later hours - getting home several hours after most kids should be sound asleep. Grampa and I would wait in the front window to see Gramma's headlights turn into the drive so we could turn on the yard light for her and greet her. She'd come in and promptly proceed to make us dinner. Yes, that's right. She just worked a full day and got home late at night, only to make us dinner - we had a long day too of... playing, afterall. We'd eat things like fried egg sandwiches, mashed potatoes with creamed corn, braunschweger sandwiches with butter... just really yummy, nutritious, late night food. :)
What's with Gramma's and food? :) Gramma Bernie always stocked the house for us with all sorts of goodies. Angie and I each had our own cupboard fully stocked with all our favorite snacks. Slim Jims were always a hot commodity.
Gramma managed to keep us well fed, and entertained and with the house kept, working full time, all while putting up with Grampa Shorty and maintianing her class. She's truly a classy lady.
I fall down stairs. I fall up stairs.(yes, it can be done) I've forgotten that there are just two more stairs before the bottom - this can really hurt. There isn't a week that goes by that I don't yell out in pain after a loud thunk of some sort and Brandon comes running "Amy? Are you all right?" I only hear my real name when I'm in trouble or out of concern. 8 out of 10 times, it involves stairs. They hate me.
I can laugh at myself, and as I've mentioned, I also enjoy laughing at others. And I'm not the only one who's ate it on the stairs.
When I was an evil teenager (as all teens are) I lived with my Dad and his then girlfriend, Sue. Her and I were home alone, I was in my room - my teenage lair, when all of a sudden I heard and felt the vibration of a loud "thunk-a-bump-a-thunk-a-bump-a-thunk" and then nothing. silence.
So, I go to investigate. I called out "Sue?" and heard nothing. I went over and stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement, and there she was. Laying at the very bottom looking up at me, arms and legs spread out.
I couldn't contain myself. I started laughing so hard and I knew, just knew she would NOT be amused at my deep amusement... so I had to walk away. Yes, I'm awful for not having helped her up. But seriously, it rendered me... useless. Because I was caught in a fit of laughter and could not function. Maybe it's just me, but after hearing the thunks and looking down at her spread out at the bottom, it just struck me as damn funny. Sorry Sue! I'm glad you weren't truly hurt.
As a family, we took Gramma Mable to her appointment to have this cancer removed. So, Grampa Vern drove with Great-Gramma Mable in the passenger seat and Gramma Adele perched in the center of the back seat, leaning forward to speak directly into Great-Gramma's ear. Dad and I followed in a seperate car.
As we were waiting to take a left turn across oncoming traffic into the hospital lot, Grampa decided to go for it. Seriously, this makes me chuckle. So he guns the gas of his Cadillac and the car lurches forward and left, while Gramma Adele goes ass over teakettle backwards in the back seat. All I could see was her feet go up in the air and then..... no more Gramma.
Oh, I cried so hard becuase I was laughing so hysterically. Needless to say, my grampa really got a tongue lashing which only enhanced my amusement. We were in the lobby, my eyes all puffy and my amusement barely contained, when they walked in. I don't think Gramma had realized that we witnessed it but she did once she saw me.
I don't know what it is, but I just cannot help it. I seriously find other's misfortunes extremely funny. Although my Gramma Adele found little to no amusement in it as she rarely finds Grampa Vern's mishaps funny, it was a welcomed distraction to the day's events and I'll never ever forget the image of her feet in the air! It just tickles me.
I've mentioned my sis, AKA: Ang, Nache, Angus, Angela Rae. She's my elder by 4 years and we've not always got along. Especially as kids. She showed little mercy, but I have got to say that after watching back the family videos, I was one annoying little girl. :) in fact, there was one home movie that I was viewing with my husband and he couldn't take it anylonger so he got up and while leaving the room said "boy, you were annoying"... oops.
My Mom, AKA: Bev, Duck, Duck Butt, Momma Poo, Beverly Ann. I hear a lot of "you look just like your mother". My mom is a creative individual. Like my Grampa Shorty (her dad), Mom is quarky and does what she pleases without concern of how she's perceived. She's built a 9' tall rocking chair which she proudly displays in her yard among dozens of other crafty ideas. She can make anything "hillbilly style".
My Dad, AKA: Scooter, Scee-Wee, Scott. He's an avid motorcycle rider, snow-mobiler, boater, really - he does all the activities that I love. I once went skydiving with Dad in AZ when I was 16 (I mean.. cough.. cough.. Angie did since she would've been the one of age) :) We went to Sturgis together for a few years too. Dad always said I rode my motorcycle like I stole it, but hey, I learned from the best! I've since sold my bike. :(
My Grandparents (Dad's side) AKA: The Folks, Vern & Adele, Gramma or Gram and Grampa. creative, I know. They've always lived "up north" on a lake in the warmer climates and in the past 10 years or so have traveled to AZ in the winter months. I love visiting them. Gramma has the best cooking ever and Grampa has always had the best toys (what is it with grampas and having lots of toys?!) Upnorth is where I learned to fish (still won't touch anything that moves), four-wheel, boat, water ski, snowmobile, shoot pool, throw darts, shuffle board, etc. As a kid I would bring friends upnorth for a week while my parents were in Sturgis. My husband absolutely loves our trips north and he considers them his grandparents as well.
Oh, but it's far too late. We're sliding across the ice and there's no stopping now. The rear end of my car smashes into the front end of his car. We all sit there stunned. Tuna, the sweety he is, says "It's okay, I'm sure there's more damage on your car than mine. And besides, nobody got hurt." It was nice of him to say, but it didn't appease Brandon. No. Brandon said "just go". that's all I got out of him for several miles down the road. He was not amused and he was thoroughly embarrassed.
So yes, if you're keeping score, I've smashed the back end of my car and the front end of his car. Hey, I AM a good driver... maybe a little reckless... or maybe, and actually this is certain, I'm simply accident prone... in everything I do.
February, 2007 - the week of Brandon's birthday. I have such a handy husband and the fact that he works at a dealership makes it all the more convenient for car maintenance. One morning, Brandon was kind enough to take my car to work while I took his. I left the house shortly before he did and was making my way thru the country back roads towards work.
At one point in the trip the road comes to a T and traffic backs up. So, I'm behind this town car who's turning left and I'm waiting to turn right. He procedes forward as though he's going, but.. nope... he stops.
I was looking for my traffic - assuming he was going - and BANG! The man gets out of his car and I get out of my car and we chat and decide to pull into a farmers yard. by this time, the traffic has really backed up. Several cars back, in my car, is Brandon. I call him and he answers the phone with "What'd you do?!" not a good sign... He says "What's you do?!" often to me, and for good reason.
Brandon joins us in the farmers yard and handles talking to the guy (who laughed when he learned my husband was there), exchanges info, and then Brandon tries to calm me down before we get back on the road. I don't know why, but I balled the whole way to work.
That's the day I gave my husband a broken bumper for his birthday
February, 2008 - This year we went all out. Every day we had something planned. Dinner with family, party at our house, super bowl at our house with family, trip to the casino, etc.
The non-stop events of the weekend proved to be very strenuous and wearing, especially on the birthday boy. His patience had worn thin.
So, why not give him a gift (Amy style)?! When his entire family was at our house I had told his sister that I'd borrow her a purse. I was looking and looking but couldn't remember where... so I thought I'd look on the top shelf in our closet (well, Brandon's closet).
I couldn't see and hadn't anything to step on, so I place one foot on a wire shelf then the other on the opposite and BOOM! Apparently, the opposite had been screwed into sheet rock only. And did you know, that sheet rock will rip out of the wall with the screws and brackets? yep! Story checks out.
All of Brandon's jeans, t-shirts, shorts, etc came crashing down. I ran to the hallway and signaled for Brandon's dad to come up and not tell Brandon. So, he comes up and assesses the damage. To my dismay, it was not a quick fix before Brandon finds out.
Brandon asks where I am and I hear Brandon's mom yell "You're not supposed to go up there!" shit! Busted. I think I killed the last thread of his patience and in front of his family... Kicker is: the item wasn't even up there!!
That's the day I broke my husband's closet for his birthday.
Let's see... One day, a day like any other, Brandon and I had gone out to dinner. When we arrived home we went to change into our "comfies" (this is ritual).
We hadn't turned on any lights but the bathroom light, which lit the bedroom well enough. So, as I was changing into my sweatshirt, all of a sudden it went completely dark!!! I yelled at Brandon a very stern "HEY!"
In return he yells from only five feet away "WHAT?!"
As I removed my hood from over my face, I mumbled "nevermind". And then proceded to turn my sweatshirt around.
That's the day the lights went out in Amyville.
We lived on a dirt road in between suburban cities. Last dirt road within miles. There were four houses on our block, if you can call it that. One was my granparent's, the next was where my grampa grew up but was now owned by a non-relative, the next in line was a cousin's, and then my house. If you hadn't guessed, we lived very close to our grandparents.
So our school bus would come down our dirt road and pick us up at my house. Because we lived in a cold climate state and had to face the eliments, my parents built us a busstop shelter. Really, tho, it was a light salmon painted out-house. As we got older, we'd sooner face the elements than be caught inside it.
One spring in the 80's, while me and the neighbor boy (no relation) were awaiting the bus's arrival, I of course, was climbing a tree - I mean, what else would I be doing? These were the days when Zubas, diaper pants, hammer pants, parachute pants (call them what you will) were in style (you with me?). As the bus was approaching, I attempted to jump from the tree in my graceful style. My baggy bottoms got snagged on a branch part way down and not only ripped my pants, but held me dangling from the tree as the bus driver approached. I finally managed to get down and the driver was kind enough to wait while I ran inside and changed.
Luckily for me, we were the first pickup on the route. Even so, the neighbor boy witnessed it and I was horribly em-bare-assed.
We had tractors - when I was really little, we thought it was the absolute coolest that Grampa would give us "train tractor" rides. He'd hook up a string of mis-matched wagons (one of which had a porta-potty chair in it which served as a seat) hooked up behind his mowing tractor that had the infamous car-hood ornament secured to the front and we would chug along with all the kids (friends, cousins, anyone) piled on board, wherever we could fit. He'd make a big hooplah out of it, honking the horns (oh yes, grampa had many horns - the loudest and craziest possible, because he was loud, in everyway) and letting everyone know, here we come, ready or not.
We also had a yellow large tractor with a scoop on front that he'd give us rides in and we'd pick apples at the top of trees, unicycles (Yes, I can ride a Unicycle!), a three-wheeled bike with a basket on it, etc. (I do a lot of etc.'s because the list could seriously go on and on, but you get it, it was crazy.)
Grampa had a gold-colored crysler convertable. This was my car - I couldn't have been more than 12 yrs old. All Grampa said is that if I got caught (meaning pulled over by the police) that he'd tell them I stole it. This was enough to deter me from going much farther than our dirt road. One cold and snowy winter, I had my 3 bestest, closest gal-pals over. (sadly, I later grew apart from my friends because I moved) Us girls had just gotten done putting dreads, which were really just a bunch of itty bitty braids, all over our heads.
The four of us piled into the gold convertable with me behind the wheel (just us kids), put the top down and drove around with the 20 degree wind blowing thru our white-girl braids. good times.
Grampa almost always had some baby animal - a bunny, bird, rooster tucked inside his flannel shirt or front pocket - and he'd bring them along to my preschool or he'd sneak them into the local restraunt to show off. He also was known for the donkey which he'd bring to my preschool and, yes, the restraunt too. It was a traveling hobby farm.
He called me by: Angie, Ray, Steve, Bev, Frank - or really any other family member's name before he made it around to Amy. And sometimes, he'd skip all that and just call me something like Shithead or Asshole. :) No matter what, I answered and you know, that's just Grampa Shorty.
He had many names, some not always so endearing... Before the internet was ever invented, my Gramma Bernie would curse my grampa saying "ah, you Yahoo". How weird is that?! She should have rights!!! I called him Grampa. My friends called him Grampa - he was everyone's grampa. His friends called him Shorty or Shitty Shorty. My uncle Steve called him Captain. My mom called him Short. His birth name was Raymond. (No one called him Raymond, infact, few knew who that was)
Grampa Shorty was a character. Anyone who had the pleasure of knowing him, can only describe him as such... a character. There's no other way to describe him. In following posts, I'll share the insane stories of life growing up with Grampa. The farm, the daily routines, the laughs, the fun. He was a vital human being and his stories are ... something else.
Here are a few of the unique names I've picked up over the years.... Last Minute Lou, PeeWee, LouLou, Pooh, Popp-o, Peeny (yes I know), Nunny, Ammers, Tutti-Fruiti, Ames, Charlie Brown (I really don't know), Amanator (watch out, she'll get cha'), Emmy Lou, Conrad, Precious, Bunny, etc.
I have so many aliases from so many stories and characters in my life. I hope to share these quarky stories and amazing characters so that you too can laugh, some at my expense, as laughter is so key to existence.
Please stop back periodically as I plan to share hilarity as it ensues &/or is recollected (in no particular order). gotta keep ya on your toes.. :)