Hello Elmo

The year was 1999 and ....

Dear Pachyderm Pen Pals,

We bought a white plaster elephant yesterday. Of course, it was on sale. I painted it light green, named him Elmo. So, I admit it, we have an elephant in the living room, right beside the sofa.

You should have seen us trying to get Elmo home in the two-seater. First of all, elephants are REAL heavy, and REAL men don’t use shopping carts. He-man insisted on carrying it all the way to the car only to find that he couldn’t get to the keys in his pocket to unlock the trunk. Never mind -- it wouldn’t fit in the trunk anyway. On the way to the car, My Husband knocked Elmo’s head on the rear view mirror of the conversion van parked next to us. That set off the most hideous sounding alarm that went on and on. After making sure Elmo didn’t have a concussion, I opened the car door and quickly folded down the ragtop of the miniature convertible before My Husband had a hernia. All the while, I was scanning the parking lot to see if the van’s owner was coming out with an elephant gun. I tried not to laugh, honestly, I did.
The only place Elmo would fit was on the deck where the ragtop folds down. He had a great view and could wave at all his animals friends in the passing vehicles. We got some pretty strange looks taking our elephant for a ride in a Miata. My advice is: If you ever buy an elephant, take the truck to the store.

See you later alligator. After while, crocodile. In a term, pachyderm.
FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Hello Elmo

Sorry I missed the elephant thing - sounds like it was quite entertaining. A green elephant in the living room, huh? Just be careful who you tell that to. They might think the little voices in your head have been talking to you again.

Another thought: could Elmo be a suitable replacement for Annie? Hmmmm.......

FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SENT: May 30, 1999 2:32 PM
TO: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SUBJECT: RE:RE: Elmo

And what is wrong with hearing little voices?

Shopping with Teen

(circa 1999)

It was snowing when I took My Daughter to the mall yesterday to buy a pair of shoes. I left pinto beans warming on the stove so I had to hurry. I’d hate to have the dinner detector going off while I’m gone because it scares the blind dog. My Daughter and I were speed shopping in the mall, zipping from one store to the next asking, “Van or Airwalks, got them or not? Just shake your head, we’re in a hurry.”

We were practically running when we headed for the car. A woman was walking toward us using a cell phone. We heard her say, “Yeah, it’s really coming down out here…nah, just great big flakes….it ain’t stickin’ or nuthin’”

My Daughter, who was mad that we hadn’t found the right size, at the right price, in the right style shoe she wanted, sarcastically said, “Well, aren’t we special with our cell phone? There probably isn’t even anyone at the other end of that conversation.” I laughed when I realized I could do the same thing with that play phone I bought at the Dollar store last week!

Speaking of the Dollar Store, the one where everything’s $1.00, Cappi actually asked for a price check on one of the items. I nearly died laughing until I realized she was serious, then I was embarrassed. I’ve got to get new friends.

I gave Annie dog a bath today. The bathroom needed mopping anyway. God, I’m too old to have a baby dog. I’m having my checkbook tied after this one.

Time to practice my talent and walking down the runway. I’m going to win that ugly pajama pageant.

Dog Trouble

Here's a story from 1999:

Dear email people,

HELP! I’m getting tired of this crazy dog. Annie is aggravating Indy and driving us all crazy. If I’ve spanked her once, I’ve spanked her a hundred times to try and keep her from jumping on Indy and biting her. Indy is supposed to be the Alpha Dog. Annie could care less who or what an Alpha dog is.

Feeding the two of them is a major riot. Indy has to be picked up and carried to the bathroom and put behind closed doors just to eat in peace because Annie is so jealous of her. And why not -- Indy gets canned food and table scraps, and Annie gets dry food. There’s a reason for it. Annie is not a professional at the potty procedure, and we don't want anything released on the carpet that can't be picked up in a napkin. You can understand why keeping the two dogs apart at mealtime is very important. Annie knows there's more to life than dry dog food, and she is curious about what goes on up there on the kitchen counter. She has gotten tall enough to help toss the salad now. I was chopping veggies the other day when Annie pushed her nose between my hip and elbow, and grabbed a carrot. She made a clean get away before I could put down the knife and go after her. However, my reflexes are getting better. When I turned my back to make a drink today, Annie went for my Mexican TV dinner. I grabbed her by the tail and pulled her away without spilling my tea. We DON’T want to clean up recycled Mexican food from the carpet.

We call Annie the ‘lap dog’ because of her need for water. Both dogs started out sharing Indy's baby bear bowl but Annie drank the contents in three laps, and there was none left for Indy. Annie thought it was a toy and started carrying the bowl around with her. We got a very large bowl so Annie can't drink all of the contents in one visit. She still tries to carry it around even though it’s full. We mop the floor a lot.

Spressy

Free to a good (or fairly good) home

Notice the date stamp in the email below. I'm no longer crying about this...

We tried to give the dog away, but they brought her back. The people down the street have a Wiemer, named Annie, and they thought it would be nice to have two Annie’s. Our Annie pestered their Annie so badly they returned her within 24 hours. I should have had them sign a no-return contract when I gave her away.

Keep praying,
Spressy

FROM: Alva@stateofmind.com
SENT: May 20, 1999 8:50 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home

OK, now this dog is just crazy !!!


FROM: Kurlikew@Bcuz.net
SENT: May 24, 1999 11:02 AM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home

I've come to the conclusion that dogs misbehave like they do because they always know if they wag their tail and give you that sad puppy dog look that you'll still love them anyway. It's hard to stay angry at a critter that loves you so unconditionally. If you give in, even the tiniest little bit, to their I-know-I-was-naughty-but-look-how-cute-I-am-and-how-much-I-love-you act, you're sunk. They're smart and it works for them every time!! As for the potty training for Annie, well ..... just don't give her Mexican food any time soon. It'll get better.

FROM: GoofyGordon@mineallmine.com
SENT: May 25, 1999 6:33 PM
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Free to a good (or fairly good) home

I got to tell you about my favorite dog of all time. I once had a one-legged dog, named Pogo. Why, he just lay around most of the time but if he wanted to he could grab a hold of something with his teeth to pull himself up and he'd be on his way, hopped around pretty good, he did.

Dog Rage

Remember this happened in 1999. The dog I have now is a fat, lazy food-aholic.

You guessed it. It’s that DOG again.

After I got home today, still wearing heels and nice work clothes, I took Annie out before she had a chance to pee in the house. While she was doing her business I bent over to take a look at the coneflower that was starting to bloom. All of a sudden Annie jerked the leash from my hand and I fell into the flower garden. She had spied our neighbor’s chocolate lab and was gone in a flash. After I tunneled out of the flowers, I chased her yelling, “Come back here, you stupid bitch!”

The neighbors were entertained as I chased that dog from one end of the Labrador’s fence to the other. When I would get near enough to grab her, she would dart again. I had the idea that I would get her to chase me as I led her home. This worked for about ten steps. That’s when I lost one of my shoes and nearly fell again.

She caught me at a disadvantage and jumped on me with her muddy paws, then pulled at my clothes. While I was putting on my shoe, she lunged at me, caught hold of my brand new sweater, and pulled a hole in it. That made me even madder. I lunged for her but missed as she ran back to see the lab. This spectacle went on for ten minutes before I managed to get close enough to grab the end of her leash. When I tried to lead her home, she sat down like a stubborn-assed donkey and would not budge. I picked up that grinning, 40-pound, hair bag and started to carry her home. I was infuriated with this animal and wanted to kill her, but she was licking my face and biting at my hair. “It’s too late for affection, dog. You’re done for!”

I huffed and puffed angrily up the hill with the dog slipping lower and lower with each step. I could hardly walk as I dragged her between my legs. So much for new panty hose, they’re ruined.

Bedraggled, I reached the house only to find that my teenaged daughter had locked me out. She thought it was funny as she watched from the window. I did NOT think it was funny. At every door I tried, my daughter met me laughing hysterically, as I held onto that idiot dog with all my might. I was trying to keep Annie from biting me, while I banged on the locked door and yelled, “Let me in, or you won’t date until you’re thirty!” After making several threats that could have brought Family and Children’s Services out for a visit, she finally opened the door. My heart was pounding wildly -- partly from anger and partly from exhaustion. I lost all my religion as I gave that girl of mine the lecture of a lifetime on why a daughter does NOT want to lock her mother out of the house.

I WILL find a home for this beast! Do you hear me?! Even if I have to call the pound, I will get rid of this dog!

God help us all!

Foot washing

This happened in the late 1990s. Don't worry. I'm sane and perfect now.

Dear Friends and Holy Rollers,

We had a re-enactment of the Lord's Last Supper for our Maundy Thursday service followed by a foot washing service at church. You know I am struggling with depression. One exercise my counselor recommended to help me change my habit of sorrowing is to make myself laugh every time I feel like crying or being sad. I have been instructed to fake a laugh in order to teach myself to choose an opposite response and get in control of my emotions so I don't go into the pit again. I made it through the message of ‘could it be me’. It’s the annual Easter sermon where all the disciples were wondering if they would be the one to betray Jesus. I wanted to cry so bad it hurt. I felt like a hose nozzle twisted shut with the water turned on full blast. I practiced my laugh reaction and made it through without a Kleenex.

Next we went downstairs to the fellowship hall. People were very somber and no one else in the room knew about my plan to laugh silently. They were sniffling and crying. Some were almost wailing. Not me buddy, I'm grinning from ear to ear. I have this super-imposed smile that suggests I don't really understand what is going on. Everyone was sitting in a circle with dishpans and towels mingled among the smelly feet. The idea was to humble ourselves and wash one another's feet and become a servant to all. I am not underestimating the somberness of the moment nor the reverence in which Jesus did this with His disciples. However, to see grown women on their knees weeping in those plastic dishpans just hit me as funny and the fake laugh that I was only to do silently was becoming more and more difficult to contain. One lady kept on her black panty hose during the whole ordeal. All she needed was some Woolite in her dishpan and she wouldn’t have to do laundry when she got home! I started to snicker. That’s when an elderly, weeping woman came to me and started rolling up my britches legs. I hadn't shaved my legs in a couple of days and I was pretty grizzly. Well, that really did cause me to laugh. She had me put my feet in the pan of warm water and that made me want to pee. Besides, it tickled! The woman washed my feet and didn't seem to notice my chipped toenail polish. If I had remembered we were going to do the foot-washing thing I would have at least come prepared. I would have worn a pair of socks that still had the elastic in them.

All that to say this: What's in a person's heart is not always what shows on the outside, and what we see on the outside is not always what's in a person's heart.

Hey, by the way, last week I had my ear pierced three times. I learned to hold still by the third try. I like my new look - cartilage piercing is so hip!

Car Door

This happened in 1999 when my daughter was about fifteen or sixteen years old. I'm still driving that Camry!

While I was upstairs dealing with the puppy, which must not hear well since she doesn’t mind at all, My Daughter backed out of the garage without closing the rear passenger door. Ugh! Major damage to my car, but didn’t hurt the garage. I drove around town the next day with the door partly open. It was closed at the bottom enough to catch, but the top was warped so badly it left a gap. People blew their horns at me while sitting at red lights, and yelled to me that my back door was open, so I taped a note to it that read, “We know – teenage driving hazard.” Today it looked like rain so we tied it shut with an electrical cord, and used duct tape to close the gap. If there are two things I can’t live without, it would be WD-40 and duct tape. WD-40 if it’s stuck; duct tape if it’s flapping - keeps many marriages and households running smoothly.

I can’t really fuss at My Daughter too much about her accident. I backed out of the garage without raising the door a few years ago. We not only had car damage, but house damage too! Mentioning damage, Annie is growing fast and she is strong as an ox! I wish she would leave the blind dog alone. Indi can’t defend herself against such a goof ball as Annie.

Wild Dog

Let me preface this by saying that this occurred in 1999. I do not have a new puppy right now in 2009, so in lieu of sympathy cards, cash donations may be sent to my bank account. Call me if you need the address.

We have a new puppy named Annie. She is an 11-week-old Weimaraner. We could not pass by Pass Pets. I daily question my sanity. Someone told me recently that my life sounded like a soap opera. I reminded them that they are a playing a lead role. So the drama continues on Wacho Woman’s Wild World. My life doesn’t seem all that unusual to me. What is normal anyway? I had my hair colored this week. It is very red, somewhat orange with golden blonde highlights. It reminds me of a stick of Fruit Stripes chewing gum. It took 3 hours to do the color change and 11 hours of my paycheck, but I love it. One guy walked by me yesterday and stopped suddenly. “Red light!”, he said. Then he walked on laughing. Well, my hairdresser said my hair could stop traffic.

My Daughter is still working at Kroger, K-Rogers as she calls it. Now that she has a job, she also has a checking account, or should I say a bouncing account. But at least she gets mail each week from her friends at the bank. They want $40 to cover for two bounced checks. I guess my daughter doesn’t quite have the hang of how an account works.

The Midas Touch?

Almost every young woman I love is pregnant right now. Four of my daughters and a good friend of mine are all expecting this year. My cousin's daughter is also expecting.

Yesterday, I had some friends over for lunch. I had a hunch about one gal and her new hubby so I said to them, "Now that you've been within ten feet of me, and you have been in my house, you may as well stop by the store on the way home and get a pregnancy test kit. I seem to have a magic touch and everyone who gets in my energy field is pregnant."

They had that deer-in-the-headlights look and didn't say anything. They might have thought I was kidding, but I really wasn't.

Later, my friend told me that on the way to my house she had told her husband that she felt strange and hadn't had a period this month. He had suggested they stop on the way home to get a home pregnancy kit.

So, while I await their good news, and watch the dough rise in the other ovens, I'll share this very appropriate photo.

You're Home Early!

I am making baby slings for the five (maybe six) pregnant women in my life. I was trying one on to see if it was going to work. I needed a baby to put in it, but since the babies aren't here yet, I found a Cabbage Patch doll in the closet that my daughter used to play with. I tucked Cabbie into the sling and was wearing the baby when my husband walked in from work.

"Whoa!" he said. "Have a rough day, Honey?"


This photo cracked me up when someone sent it to me in an email. It was perfect for celebrating my Cabbage Patch moment in the sling.