Kelley's Break Room

Dogs have it better than us, y'all

2012-05-25T04:17:00.004-07:00

Since we are all super close here, I feel comfortable sharing with you that we will be putting our house on the market soon. It's not up yet, but...it won't be long. If you knock on my front door these days, I will likely answer it being completely covered in baking soda with a professional spray bottle in my hand. I'm cleaning the HECK out of some tile grout. I have tried many, many, many products (including the love of my life, the Magic Eraser) and I have found that baking soda and water work the best.

Please let me show you.

(Don't judge my dirty grout. I'm trying to right my wrongs here, people.)

*As in Linda Richman (Mike Meyers) on SNL getting "all verklempt", or
choked up with joy and emotion, but you knew this already.

Once the tile is all bright and shiny, and I get my kids situated in the attic so they won't mess up the house (I'll put a box fan up there!), it won't be long before the "For Sale" sign is in our front yard. This means we will need a new house, of course.

I've been scouring the internet for our perfect house for weeks and weeks. You can imagine my disappointment when I saw on The Coolist (picture source) that all of my favorite houses were owned by someone else already.

SOMEONE WITH FOUR LEGS.

Dogs, of course.

Hairy dogs.

Slobbering dogs.

Pooping-in-the-yard dogs.

"If these are cat pawprints I smell, you can bet I'm demanding an on-site security guard!"

"I'm not stepping paw into that house until you install a ceiling fan, too. You think I'm a dog or something?"

"If I get Alpo again or a Pupperoni stick shoved in my face ONE MORE TIME, I will be demanding to switch houses with Mr. and Mrs. Too-Much-Money right away."

"Bahk! Bahk! Tea and crumpets, anyone? Bahk! Bahk? OH, dear me, somebody please do join me. BAHK??"

"You all act like you've never seen a dog sitting in their own glass house with a red framed door. LOSERS."

These houses for dogs range from $5,000 to $30,000. Insanity.

It turns out fancy houses aren't the only ways dogs are living it up. They also have pretty fancy beds, too.

Not too long ago, a very nice lady from The Uncommon Dog contacted me about giving one of her fancy dog beds to one of you. You know The Uncommon Dog is going to have a fancy bed to give away since they were featured in "O" magazine's Big Deals Issue in August 2010! That's as in ORPAH GAIL WINFREY. (Funny that her best friend's name is Gail and that's her middle name. And that her name is actually ORpah.) Now, you know the dogs in the pictures above in the fancy, fancy houses have a fancy dog bed, but...your dog can have one, too. If your dog happens to have one of those fancy, fancy houses, then you certainly need to get that dog a fancy, fancy bed!

No surprise that Orpah was pimping fancy dog beds from The Uncommon Dog
in her magazine. Her dogs are definitely uncommon. I wish I could be Orpah's dog.

Here it is...

A $99.99 dog bed.

That's almost $100, y'all. For a dog bed.

Super cute, right? This is no ordinary dog bed. You won't find it at PetSmart and certainly not at Wal-Mart, so don't go try snooping around their dog bed aisles for one. It is the Bowsers Dutchie Bed and it is the St. Tropez Diamond Design made out of MicroVelvet. (Clue: If a dog bed mentions "St. Tropez", diamonds and MICROVELVET, it's fancy.) Even though it may look like it is not washable with those puffy bolsters, the cover is actually zippered and can be removed to put in your washing machine. This is also a SMALL dog bed (meant for dogs up to 35 pounds), so don't go trying to stuff your Bull Mastiff inside it. He will bark at you.

Some dogs out there are really living the high life, amirite?

They're probably working on a Sleep Number dog bed over at The Uncommon Dog right this very second. (The water bed design ended up being a total bust. Get it? Get it?) They're just trying to figure out how to get a paw to operate the remote. Orpah's dogs probably already have one because she can afford special remote operating lessons for them. Lucky little squirts.

By the way, if you don't have a dog and can't think of anyone that you'd like to win this for as a gift, enter to win anyway and use it as a pillow. Your precious little head can fit right in the middle.

Do you have a dog? Is it living the high-life, too?

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Unsolved Mysteries: The Sesame Street Edition (And "Finding the Funny" #18!)

2012-05-23T23:31:00.000-07:00

Unsolved Mysteries. Man, I loved that show. It started in 1987 and I was glued to the TV every time this dude came on the air. He had just had a way about him that made me want to don a brown trench coat and act really, really serious.

Robert Stack was the man. Source

He never covered Sesame Street, though, which is unfortunate.

Let's talk about Sesame Street for a minute before we jump right into the unsolved mysteries, shall we?

Sometimes I feel guilty that my kids don't watch Sesame Street. It has been around since the late 60's, has stood the test of time and, yet, it's not good enough for my kids or something. What's my problem? What does Caillou or Franklin or Little Bear or Dog the Bounty Hunter or Cops or The First 48 have that Big Bird doesn't?

I can't answer that without completely breaking down in raging guilty tears, but I can tell you that an episode of Sesame Street lasts a looooooong stinkin' time. Your kids can be born, get potty-trained, learn to speak Mandarin and use sign language to read War and Peace "out loud" from cover to cover all in one episode of Sesame Street.

I hope Sesame Street doesn't think my observations about their never-ending show, my disgust regarding Cookie Monster's seemingly inability to EAT WITH HIS MOUTH CLOSED and my annoyance over Elmo's super irritating voice means I don't love them.

I do.

I think about them all the time.

In fact, memories of Sesame Street have flooded my mind many times over the years. I suppose I hit SS the hardest from 1978-1982ish. I was born in 1975, so those days spent watching Snuffleupagus move like a sloth on antidepressants and Bert never getting out of his bad mood unless a pigeon flew by were from the about ages of 3 to 7 and that one time in 6th grade when I stayed home from school and was totally using Sesame Street while waiting for Inspector Gadget to come on TV.

I guess I kind have a thing for detectives and mysteries.

Seriously, though, I so wish Robert Stack from Unsolved Mysteries would have covered Sesame Street just once to investigate...

...that painting guy.

I. Loved. This. Dude. Where did he go, though? He painted until number 11 and POOF! he was gone. This painting dude in the hat starred in these little segments that were filmed in 1972. I loved how he saw an opportunity everywhere to paint his awesome numbers. What I loved even more is that he could paint them so smoothly. I envied his brush strokes. I envied his ability to paint the number 8 right on top of a bald man's head and get away with it in the end. I WANTED TO PAINT ON A BALD GUY'S HEAD AND NEVER, EVER COULD. (My neighbor was bald.) Why didn't you keep painting, man?

...Oscar's very deep trash can and missing legs.

Source

Just ONCE you'd think that Oscar could climb his dirty green butt out of his trash can and show us his stinkin' legs. Was Oscar injured during The Battle of Sesame Street or what? Was he a double amputee or something? What in the heck? Also, I felt completely insulted that he claimed his trash can housed a farm, swimming pool, ice-rink, bowling alley, and a piano over the years. SWIMMING POOLS DON'T FIT IN TRASH CANS, OSCAR. We may not have known how to control our bladder during the night, but we knew that!

...Dave Ward's ancestry.

Dave Ward has been a news anchor on Channel 13 in Houston ever since 1968. He is still a news anchor. The man can read a teleprompter, y'all.

I know he wasn't actually on Sesame Street, but he might as well have been! I thought of him every single time I saw a certain character on Sesame Street and now think of that Sesame Street character when I see Dave Ward. Were they related? Perhaps this character was made to look like him? Perhaps Dave Ward's mother had an affair with this Sesame Street puppet? Huh? It's possible!

Can you guess who that character might be? Take a gooood looooong look at Dave Ward. Think of those characters... Big Bird? Elmo? Cookie Monster? Anyone else?

The Count, of course!

Source

Please tell me you see the resemblance. If you need more time to think it over, print both pictures out and mull over them a while. Maybe tuck them on the visor of your car so you can reference it as you drive around town. Maybe on your refrigerator?

I am not kidding when I say that EVERY SINGLE TIME I see Dave Ward on the news, I think of The Count. Do you want me to tell you how many times that has been? I will! 1! 2! 3! 4! 5! 6! 7! 8! 9! 10! 11! Okay, I'll stop. You get my drift. Every. Time. If you say you don't see the resemblance, I will feel like I have wasted almost my entire life and will break down in raging tears again. The tears are mostly because I bet I'm sad that Dave Ward may have never known his real purple father.

Just tell me the truth.

See it?

(Don't tell me the truth if you don't see it.)

_________________________________________________

And now...

Did you write something funny and not tell us about it? Why would you do a thing like that? Link that mess up. (Pretty please?)

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - Yay! My First Hate Mail Here at ODNT! ODNT
#2 TIE - Cookie Contest Queen Wildlife in the Woods
#2 TIE - Things You Can Do With Boobs Tales of a Failed Crunchy Mom
#3 - You Show Your A$$ Hot Mess Mom
#4 - I'll Never Shave My Legs Again Tales of an Overworked Supermom
#5 TIE - Easy as 1 Abby Has Issues
#5 TIE - Honest Mom's 2yo terrifies Jet Blue passengers Honest Mom
#5 TIE - My Neighbors Might Be Cannibals Tales of a Semi-Domesticated Mama

Were You One of Sue's Favorites?

Sue at The Creative Chicken is sharing her FIVE favorite posts from last week's party. Head on over to her blog to see if you were one of her favorites!

The Never-Ending Phone Conversation: How I Cope

2012-05-21T23:16:00.000-07:00

This post isn't going to actually tell you how to cope with a really long phone conversation, but it will tell you how I cope every time I talk to my lawn guy. Maybe you'll get some ideas from my experience. I've got my fingers crossed for you.

(I really miss rotary phones like this one. They're much more fun to hang up, amirite? Especially when you're mad. They're also more fun to dial. My grandmother still has one. When I visit, she thinks it's JUST to see her, but, no, it's to see her and that rotary phone.) Source

The conversation below is between me and one of the nicest guys on the planet, "Jamie", our lawn guy. He is a young, very polite college kid that will be very successful one day. We have had lots of talks about his major and his future, so don't think I'm a total meanie after reading this post. I do ask him about his life sometimes! He comes from a great family and brings us Christmas cards every year. Christmas cards! That's why I would feel horrible if he ever knew that I mentioned him here in the Break Room, especially since he is the lawn guy for the Break Room, too. I hope you all noticed the orange-chair shaped hedges just outside our little break area as you walked in here today. Jamie worked VERY hard on those. Please do not sit on them.

Because Jamie is so polite, I don't think he wants to rush our conversations. I think that's the bottom line. But, here's the deal: we have a lot of conversations and every conversation looks just like the one below. When the grass doesn't need to be cut as often, these conversations happen every other week. In the summer, they happen EVERY. WEEK.

Law.

Duh.

Mercy.

"Ms. Nettles? This is Jamie."
"Hi, Jamie."

(While I am waiting for him to respond, a baby bird somewhere is conceived, grows inside the egg, hatches, learns to fly, gets busy in the Burger King bathroom and then lays eggs herself.)

"I was wondering if you'd like your yard done this weekend."
"That would be great, Jamie."

(I use this time to cut every blade of grass at the local golf course using child safe scissors and then go french braid gray hair for six straight hours at a nearby nursing home.)

"Okay, we'll be out to cut your yard this weekend.It'll probably be on Saturday."
"That's great, Jamie. Thank you."

(This time while I wait for him to respond, I fly over to Africa and dig 1,423 water wells and trim the fingernails of 855 village children, infants included, and the toenails of 2 or 3 tribal chiefs.)

"Oh, Mrs. Nettles?"
"Yes, Jamie?"

(While I am waiting for him to respond again, Oprah is in Chicago listing all of her favorite things to Stedman. This takes so long that Stedman has to get three hair cuts and five mustache trims.)

"Have y'all decided if you want us to re-sod your yard yet? You'll probably want to do that before it gets way too hot."
"No, Jamie, not yet. I don't think we are going to do it right now."

(During this break in the conversation, I collect every Encyclopedia Brittanica still in existence, make one very, very, very tall stack with them, climb to the very top of the very, very, very tall stack and obtain a sample of Mars' dirt for my son to use in an upcoming science project.)

"Okay, Ms. Nettles. We'll see you this weekend when we come by to cut your yard. Probably on Saturday.
"Okay, thanks, Jamie. See you then!"

(Mark Zuckerberg counts ALL of his money four times in a row and writes eight love poems for his new wife during at this point during the conversation.)

Isn't it ironic that her first name is Cha-Ching Ching? Source

"Let us know when you are ready for us to re-sod your yard."
"Okay, I'll do that. Thank you. See you on Saturday! Bye!"

(While Zuckerberg recites his poems, I began to think Jamie's favorite song has got to be "Never Say Goodbye" by Bon Jovi, only he probably doesn't even know about Bon Jovi since he's probably not even 21 yet. Since I'm still waiting for him to say "bye", I sing the aforementioned song from beginning to end 200 times in a row and twice more in Japanese. It really is beautiful in Japanese.)

(I begin to teach myself the song in sign language when I hear...)

"Bye."

Hallelujah.

(Thank goodness I finally got a clue and started the text messaging game.)

Are you a quick responder?

Are you a slow responder?

Or are you a juuuuuuust riiiiiiiight responder?

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Oh! If you are interested in learning about my Top 5 Ways to Get Back Into Your Bathing Suit Without Dieting or Exercising or Sucking In One Bit that I recently wrote over at Parent Society, you can find them HERE.

The day I sort of met Adam Levine (and a gift card giveaway!)

2012-05-17T18:12:00.002-07:00

Already, my husband was a little frustrated with me. I had been working in the Houston Medical Center and he works downtown. We decided to meet near his office to eat lunch at Benihana. (And, no, I saw no women hibachi chefs and, yes, I'm still on the hunt for them.) Most parking spaces have meters, but usually you can pay for your parking space with a credit card.

I chose one that had to be paid with quarters.

I had no quarters.

It was pouring down rain.

"Before you meet me in the restaurant, can you run by the meter near my car and put some quarters in the machine?" I begged into his voicemail.

Silence.

"Chris, it's me again. Will you please go by the car and put quarters in the meter?? I have, like, three more minutes before those vicious meter people come by to give me a ticket!!" I anxiously say into his voicemail. Again.

Silence.

I'm sweating. Parking tickets downtown are NO FUN.

Minutes tick by and then, FINALLY, he walks into the door dripping with rain.

"Did you get my message??"

"Yes. I got your message. There are quarters in the machine. Why didn't you have any quarters?"

We continue to discuss this issue when I saw some very interesting people come into the restaurant behind him. That sat at the table directly beside us. The restaurant wasn't crowded at all, but they were seated right next to us. They just looked...famous.

"Those people are famous," I whisper to Chris.

"They're not famous. Why do you think they're famous?"

"They are! Everyone else in this place is wearing a suit, business clothes or scrubs and, look, that guy is wearing leather. There are three guys and one girl and one of the guys is wearing leather. That guy has a weird hairstyle. One of them has rolling luggage in that corner. See it! They're definitely in a band or something. Hold on, hold on...I THINK THAT GUY IS ADAM LEVINE!!!"

Adam Levine from Maroon 5 and The Voice, of course. Source

(I have a thing for Adam Levine.)

"Shhhhhh, Kelley! That is not Adam Levine. I can't believe you think that is Adam Levine."

"The back of his head sort of looks like him!"

"Unless Maroon 5 is from Ireland, that isn't them. They're talking with accents."

"Huh?"

I get out my iPhone and start looking up Maroon 5 so I can see what the other band members look like.

"Look at this guy, Chris. He looks like that guy beside Adam Levine!"

My heart starts beating really fast. I start breathing fast.

"And, Maroon 5 was JUST HERE performing! That could SO be them!"

"It's not them."

So, I get up to go to the bathroom. I have to get a better look from another angle. It doesn't take long for me to realize that it's definitely not Adam Levine.

Doggonit.

I still know they're famous.

"I still think they're famous."

"Well, they might be, but how will you ever know?"

So, we eat.

I think.

My husband has to leave for a meeting.

As I wait for the check, my heart beats louder and louder. I am trying to work up the nerve to ask these famous-looking people if they're famous.

My check comes. Way too fast. So, I pay. Way too slow.

Then, I just do it.

"I am so sorry to interrupt you, but, I just have to know... Are you guys in a band or something?"

They smile at me.

"What gave us away?"

"Well, there's the leather and the hat and the rolling luggage..."

They laugh.

"Which band do you think we're a part of?"

"Ummmm...Maroon 5?"

(I was still really hoping. I was thinking maybe Adam Levine looked different up close or something.)

They laugh again.

"No, no...we're performing at Jones Hall tonight [a classy venue] and we're a part of Celtic Woman. Have you heard of us?"

I met the brunette on the far left. She was wearing super cute clothes, was super friendly and made me feel like I looked like a pound of yak sweat. Why do I have to meet famous people when I look like yak sweat?? Source

(There were three men and one woman, remember?)

"Oh, yes, I think so! [I was really stretching IT here. I'm pretty sure I've seen them on an infomercial or something.] You sing really beautifully!"

"Well, thank you."

"I guess you are one of the Celtic Woman women?"

"Yes, yes. These guys are a part of the band."

(We make a little more small talk and then I excuse myself. They were exceptionally nice and definitely sounded Irish.)

So, it wasn't Maroon 5, but for a fleeting moment, I thought I was sitting behind Adam Levine, which almost felt like the real thing.

I mean, don't you think this guy would look like him FROM BEHIND? Like, without the plaid skirt?

Source

That's who I saw!!

(No, not Chuck Norris.)

His name is Anthony Byrne and he is a Celtic Piper. He's one of the Celtic Woman pipers. From the back, I swear he looked like Adam Levine. His hair was cut really short and it was super dark. He had a little shadow going on, like he does in this picture. He was dressed in trendy clothes (no plaid skirts).

I also remember him being really nice and eating edamame.

So, since I thought he was Adam Levine almost the entire time I was at Benihana, and since the guy is in a band and is famous in his own celtic pipe playing way, isn't it like I almost met Adam Levine himself?

(You can't convince me otherwise.)

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GIFT CARD GIVEAWAY

Okay, back to reality...

I don't usually do giveaways, but...if it is for something that I think is pretty cool or useful, I pass it on.

I think Cardpool is cool.

"Cardpool makes it ridiculously easy to buy and sell pre-owned gift cards. Customers can buy gift cards for up to 35% off or sell unwanted gift cards for cash. By connecting all the gift card holders around the world into one trusted gift card exchange marketplace, we are able to help everyone get exactly what they want, whether its a discounted gift card, a different gift card, or simply cash."

It has been featured on CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS, Fox News, The New York Times, NPR and Tech Crunch. They have discount gift cards to just about every store you can think of: Anthropologie, Home Depot, Barnes & Noble, Bath & Body Works, Walmart, Tiffany & Co., Banana Republic, Old Navy, etc.

If you are interested in trying Cardpool out, this giveway is for $25 credit to their store and you can enter using Rafflecopter below!

(FYI, I was actually not paid or given anything to promote this giveaway. I'm basically passing on the information to you, because I thought it sounded pretty awesome.)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Life Cycle of the Shoe: A Flowchart (and Finding the Funny #17!)

2012-05-16T05:14:00.000-07:00

Today I am just going to share a little graph I made with you. I know your time is valuable and you have lots of blogs you'd like to read, including the ones from "Finding the Funny" below. On top of that, you probably have papers to staple, dishes to clean, bosses to meet, diapers to change, food to eat, lists to read, words to highlight, karate moves to practice, jazz hands to perfect, grass to mow, baseballs to catch, high-fives to give, books to read, TV screens to dust, lights to turn off, nails to polish, eyebrows to pluck, newspapers to recycle, Ozarka water bottles to switch out, clothes to fold, copies to make, cookies to bake, tweets to star/read/RT, birds to feed, Facebook updates to like, pools to clean, MC Hammer pants to buy, envelopes to seal, e-mail to check, websites to pin, Twizzlers to eat, spices to organize, mail to check, opera songs to sing, hip-hop dance routines to make up, etc. So, I wanted to give you something short and sweet. Feel free to replace the tennis shoes with flip-flops and the heels with some wedges.

____________________________________

Anna and I are thrilled to be hosting this hilarious party!

Link up an old or new post that you think is funny – and link up as many times as you want! And if you’re looking for a laugh, visit some of the other blogs and let them know you came from the “Finding the Funny” party!

Your links will show up here AND over at My Life and Kids.

Also, starting this week, we are having one of you share your top 5 favorites. Today Anna from Random Handprints is sharing the 5 that made her laugh the most. Go HERE to see if yours is on her list!

Most Clicked Posts From Last Week...

#1 At Least We Know I'm Not Pregnant

#2 Swim Lessons: The Commando Night

#3 TIE- Crap! My reunion is in 12 days!!

#3 TIE- Busty Girl Problems

#4 Answers to the big questions

#5 5 Signs You Have A Baby

Escaped convicts at the mall (a true story)

2012-05-15T05:55:00.003-07:00

The actual Mall Jail
Source

Around 10:00 in the morning, her little 2-year-old blue eyes looked all around the indoor play area at the mall. Although she was quite small, even she could see some similarities between this place and a jail. For example both had:

1) heavy boundaries

2) a guarded entrance

3) LOTS of other "guards" watching every movement of those incarcerated

4) visitation hours

5) a rule of no food or drink allowed inside the area

The guard at the entrance of this place didn't look very smart, either. He was plastic, for one thing. He was a plastic bucktoothed gray squirrel with his hand held out from his body. One was supposed to be able to stand underneath it, or be six years of age or less, to gain access to the jail's facilities.

As she thought about how alike both were, she watched other kids her age playing with their brothers and sisters, plus she saw one gigantic bearded boy she was fairly certain wasn't under six (nice job, plastic squirrel!!), darting all around the place looking like a bunch of lunatics. They all acted like they were at Disney World or something. She thought all of those kids needed to get a dingdang grip.

Kids can be so lame.

After watching them for a few minutes, the little girl decided she had had enough of the climbing-and-jumping-and-running-and-sliding-through-tunnels business. She would have to tell her grandmother that this place was Loserville and that she was ready for more exciting places, like Pho Nail in the grocery store parking lot. Her grandmother always went to Pho Nail. Why couldn't she? She could really use a manicure. The only problem was that her grandmother would insist that she "play for a few more minutes".

No, she would have to escape on her own.

So, when she saw her grandmother squeeze her big behind into the rubber tree trunk lying on it's side to rescue the little girl's crying brother, she took advantage of her chance. And she ran. And ran. And she ran so far away. But, she could get away. Actually, she got away and ran right into a Claire's Boutique.

She looked around with awe at the bracelets, bows, earrings, toys, lip glass, glittery things, fingernail stickers and a bright pink pen with a feather on top. She decided she'd like to have that pen, so she took it, turned her little body around and left.

Within a few seconds, she came upon an elevator. Since there are only two floors in the mall, she was left with only one option. So, up she went. As she exited, she moved her short, short legs right into a jewelry store with a feathery pink pen clutched in her fist and began to browse like she belonged there. This independence thang was niiiiiice. Why she hadn't tried to break out on her own before now was beyond her.

Tap, tap. "Hi, Little Miss. Are you lost?"

"Huh? Lost? No way. I'm just here to see what you good people have in your glass cases and then I'm heading over to Pho Nail for a manicure. Just look at these nails!" is what she wanted to say, but all she could do was shake her head.

The jewelry store employee called security anyway, which had already been alerted the little girl was "lost" by the girl's grandmother. Within moments, the grandmother who had been stuck in a tree trunk only fifteen minutes prior had the little girl in a tight embrace and was crying tears of joy.

As she wiped her eyes, she looked down at the little girl, gave her a puzzled look and asked, "Where did you get that pink pen?"

This story was told to me by the grandmother in the story as I watched my 4-year-old play in that same mall play area. I didn't know her, but she struck up a conversation with me. It cracked me up and reminded me of the time when he was 20-months-old and squeezed out of that area while a family member was watching him. He hadn't seen him leave. My son had seen his brother, his grandmother and me pass a jewelry store, Build-A-Bear, maybe a Hollister or something and then enter into Stride Rite. Moments later, he waddled up into Stride Rite all alone like he was any other mall shopper. I was laughing and in shock all at the same time. Mostly in shock.

Has anything like either of these stories ever happened to you at the mall??

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On Saturday, NickMom featured my post "Mother's Day Breakfast in Bed Recipes, as written by a 3-year-old". I didn't see that it was up over there until yesterday. I know it's past Mother's Day now, but these delicious recipes (wink, wink, wiiiiiink) can be used year-round. Click HERE for my 3-year-old's secrets. Thanks to all who stop by and/or share. It means a lot!

Sheep are such nerds

2012-05-13T20:40:00.002-07:00

Since I am on my way to another Chinese foot massage, I thought it was the perfect time to ask someone to step in as the guest janitor for the day. I generally host one guest janitor per month, which has been awesome. I really like the things they do to the place while they're here. I'm still waiting for someone to get a set of indoor horse shoes set up near that orange chair, but no one has offered yet. Maybe "Bagman", my very funny guest janitor today, will do it. Before I tell you a little bit about him, let's check out his avatar:

For the life of me, I cannot figure out how his avatar above fits with his pseudonym of "Bagman". I see no connection!

Bagman is actually a man I know in real life. (He's, like, really tall. If he wanted, he could probably pick me up and hurl me to Canada, especially if I laid off the chocolate chip cookies for a week or so.) We are co-workers at a big cancer hospital down here in Houston, Texas. I know his birthday, too, because, for the longest time, it was the code to get into some top-secret closets. (Still haven't figured out how he pulled that one off.) I worked full-time at this cancer center until 2004, a year after Bagman arrived on the scene, when my older son was born. I quit that year but have returned to help one to two days a week here and there when maternity leaves come up, someone has moved on to another job, etc. This means that I have worked full-time with Bagman at one point and get to see him whenever I return.

Lucky me.

He is a funny man.

Without taking too much time away from his time here, let me tell you that Bagman has endured a lot lately. He moved to Houston from north Texas in 2003 to work at the best cancer center in the country without knowing that he would need their help a few short years later. He will tell you in his blog, Big Bags O' Fun, that he was diagnosed with cancer in June 2011 and has endured chemotherapy, radiation and surgery, and "did very well with all three".

He began his humor blog in March 2012 during his recovery.

I'm so glad he did.

I'm not surprised that I laugh out loud as I read through his posts. Bagman and I have shared many, many laughs. When I worked there full-time, we sat next to each other in our office. I would often share my Chick-Fil-A french fries with him. I knew he'd take my leftovers. (You know I mean that in a nice way, right, Bagman?) We would get sidetracked by telling each other funny things patients said or did that it was hard to get work done sometimes.

I'm so grateful that he put cancer in a headlock (he is a former college football player!) and is here in the Break Room to dust that orange chair and whatnot.

OMIGOSHWOULDYOULOOKATTHETIME?! I've got to get to my foot massage!!

____________________________________

I am SO glad to be here in Kelley’s Break Room, a place I have long enjoyed, laughing with Kelley till I cried on many occasions. I was thrilled when my good friend asked me to guest post and since ~~we are~~ I am spending the day cleaning the breakroom appliances, thought I would share some concerns I have with my roommates on this topic. (Hurry back soon, Kelley!)

My Roommates, the Nerdy Sheep

Let me start off by saying I am a man and “messy” is not a foreign concept to me. I worked as a plumber’s helper, spent ages in smelly locker rooms, lived all 4 years in a college dorm, raised two boys, and love to hunt and fish. I have been baptized by dirt and grime and to be honest, I kind of like it. However, I was raised by a mother who taught me how to clean and I was married for 24 years. I know how to clean a house to within an inch if it’s life. Not that I did it very often, but I do know how.

Its funny how life pays you back isn’t it? I now share a condo with 2 male roommates, both of whom are very nerdy, single, (hard to imagine) scientists who could easily star on the TV show ‘Big Bang Theory”, except they aren’t funny……..at all. As intellectual as they are, however, they were apparently raised by sheep, one of the dumbest and nastiest animals on the planet.

I guess I can’t blame them, really. Have you ever seen or smelled a corral full of sheep? Yuk! You just think they’re cute and fluffy at the petting zoo. They aren’t, especially the ones that grow to be scientists and live with me. I am trying to understand them. As free ranging sheep out in the pastures, cleaning up after themselves probably wasn’t encouraged. After all, sheep are terrified of running water. They’ll drown if they fall in. Guess that explains the water on the countertop and bathroom floor every day. They also get sheared, not bathed. That explains even more. Plus, they probably had a shepherd to shoo away the flies. Wish we did.

Oh wait! I guess they think that’s me. I wonder if I can teach them? I am older and wiser, after all. Plus, I have a bathrobe and a cane. Maybe if I look and act like a shepherd I can finally get through to them. I mean it’s only been 5 months. (Imagine me standing proudly in a robe, holding my cane, teaching…..sheep?).

Me: “Lesson #1. You know when the stove gets dirty after frying things? You clean it.” Sheep 1: “Baah” chew, chew, chew. Sheep 2: “Baah?........Baah Baah” chew… “burp”.

Me: “Lesson # 2. When the carpet needs to be vacuumed and the lint gets really thick? You vacuum it.” Sheep 1: “Baah Baah” chew chew Sheep 2: chew chew, frown…… "burp”

Me: “Lesson #3. When I can smell your turtle aquarium from the other room, YOU NEED TO CLEAN IT. ” Sheep 1: “Baah?” Me: “Yes, you.” Sheep 2: Grins (don’t make me say it) “Sheepishly”

Me: “# Lesson 4. When you take a shower……” Both: “BAAH!! BAAHH!! BAAH!!” running in terror. Me: “Oh, never mind. Sorry. Forgot about that fear of water thing.”

Me: “Finally, #5. When the trash can overflows, don’t expect Mr. Clean or the Fairy Pine Sol lady to arrive magically and clean up after you. Take it out. THEN!” Sheep 1: Silence. Bewilderment. Chew, chew. Sheep 2: Indignant. “Baah!”. Turns, drops the trash on the floor. Walks away.

I raise my cane but stop myself from bashing him with it.

“You know” I think to myself, “A real shepherd will break a sheep’s leg to keep it from straying.

HMMM. Come here, sheep. I think you have something on that leg. Hold still now…..”

I can’t wait to move.

It'd be awesome if you could swing by Big Bags O' Fun. Bagman is sort of new on the scene and would appreciate seeing your nice faces over there, I just know it! Click HERE.

Come celebrate with the Kelley's Break Room choir!

2012-05-10T07:26:00.004-07:00

This week, I noticed that there were 666 followers of the Break Room via Google Friend Connect. The 666th follower was a man named Alex. Alex, where are you? I clicked on your GFC picture and I see you with a precious little baby. The image was too small, so I couldn't use it in the choir picture below. The choir needs you Alex. You are what inspired the choir! At the moment, you are the smiling yellow thumbs-up face. Anyway, in an effort to ward off Satan's presence in the Break Room, I created the very first "Kelley's Break Room" choir with the new GFC followers yesterday. I am so excited to introduce them to you!!

Right in the center is #667 Robyn of Hollow Tree Ventures! Robyn writes a funny, funny blog and is a great supporter in the blogosphere. I love the pictures she captions and the charts she creates, like this one about how social media drives her crazy. You'll definitely want her on your team!

To Robyn's right (our left) is #668 Kristine of Wait in the Van. Kristine is a New York transplant now living in Texas (yeeehaw!!!), writes a hilarious blog AND also writes for The Mouthy Housewives. She once wrote a tweet about Bill Nye the Science Guy that got shared a gazillion times on Twitter. I also just noticed that she recommends the Break Room to her readers on the right side of her blog. She must've been following me via a feed, but decided to go the extra mile and follow me via GFC, too. Thanks, Kristine! I'm tearing up over here!!

Continuing around the little circle we find Jeanne of Patricia from Worst Mom Ever. I recently began reading her blog when I found it via our Wednesday link-up, "Finding the Funny". She is a fun homeschooling mom who writes about her cute family. She shares lots of good recipes and stories about her busy life with her family.

On Patricia's right is Alex, the yellow smiling face dude. I want a better picture of Alex. If you are reading this right now, Alex, please comment below. I'd love a link to your blog and a better picture of you. You are in the choir, after all!

On Robyn's left (our right) is Jeanne of Life in Cleveland. Jeanne is brand-new to me, but I look forward to reading her blog! She is a retired architect who used to go on 3-day hikes to places like Machu Picchu before having her cute children and writing about them while living in her favorite city of Cleveland, Ohio.

So, that's the choir.

We will be traveling all around the country singing all kinds of songs, including "Amazing Grace", "Lookin' for Love (in all the wrong places)" and "Party Anthem (in the house toniiiiiight)", so please look for us at your local bank, grocery store and cleaners. Be sure to look for me in the choir leader's robe:

Our very first debut will be in Rockefeller Center. We are going to do our best to sing really loudly while the Good Morning America people go about their business outside with the crowd. We are hoping to draw enough attention with our rendition of Madonna's "Holiday" that the camera pans over to us and the entire Good Morning America crowd circles around us.

Why Madonna's "Holiday"? Why are we singing the "CELEBRATE!!!" part really, really, really loudly? It's because I'm being featured over at ParentsConnect today!

You may remember my silly post "9 Tips for Being a Sexy, Sassy Mama" that I posted last week. That post was written for ParentsConnect as a part of their "Sexy Mama Bootcamp". When you go to the ParentsConnect post about Kelley's Break Room HERE and make a comment in the thread, you will be entered in the Overstock.com Bedroom Makeover giveaway. You know I'd be thrilled to see your faces over there. Thanks for your support!!

Oh, and one more thing, when you're finished commenting, I hope you will buy a taxi cab ride, bus, plane, subway or train ticket over to Rockefeller Center in NYC to hear the Kelley's Break Room choir. By the time you arrive, we will probably be singing "Cherish the Love" by Kool & the Gang. Maybe after we're done, we can all go eat pizza and see the Statue of Liberty.

Click HERE for a free ride to ParentsConnect!

Trash talking my dad (and "Finding the Funny" #16!)

2012-05-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

Since I was 13-years-old, I have been playing my Dad at Scrabble. We could have been playing way before then, but I sort of doubt it since my schedule was jam-packed with playing school, Cabbage Patch Dolls, store and Barbies. While I was young, he never let me win. I mean, I won sometimes, but he never let me win. Now, of course, he has no choice, because...

All I do is win, win, win no matter what I do
Got a Triple Word Score on my mind, can't ever get enough
And every time I step in the building
Everybody's hands go UP!!! ...and they stay there, and they say "yeah" and they stay there!

I wonder if DJ Khaled plays Scrabble...
Source

No DJ Khaled and Ludacris fans in the house, I see.

(That was embarrassing.)

Actually, I don't win, win, win all the time, obviously. We are probably even on the total of number of games won and lost between the two of us. The deal with my Dad and I, though, is that we like to talk trash while we play Scrabble. Along with trash talking, we pretty much say the same things every game. Mostly, it's him that says the same things over and over. It's like there is a script he reads. When I was over at my parents' house this week, I jotted that script down.

My Dad wondering how to spell "it".
(Just a little good-natured trash talking here, folks.)

It goes a little something like this:

AT THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME:

"You're in deep trouble."
"How many points do you want me to spot you?" (My Dad indicating that I'll need to start with extra points to have a chance to win the game at all.)
"Hey, I'll tell you what: I'll play you right-handed." (He's left-handed. You gathered this.)

While waiting for my dad to play, I have the attention span of a gnat embryo. This will lead me to make really horrible faces to my Dad followed my questions like, "Would you love me if I looked like this?" followed by "No, Dad, this one is more awful. Would you if I did this with my lips and then this with my eyes? How about then?" or "Would Chris have stuck around if I did these two things to my face and then used this voice?" He always answers "no" to all of my questions.

DURING THE GAME:

"It's about even." (He will say this right after I've played a really high-scoring word and he's far behind. He will say it with a really serious face.)
"We've never played this word before!"
"That's why I love this game. It's never the same."
"Do you need me to help you?" (We'll both say this one. We use it when the other person is taking too long to play. We don't use the little hour glass thing, because we live a thug life.)
"Never look back." (He will say this if he's winning...even if it's only by a point.)
"Another vowel! Another vowel!" (This is always said in digust.)
"Another 'i'! Unbelievable!" (We hate the letter 'i'.)
"The 'i's have it." (My dad will just say this out of the blue while I either give a half-hearted smirk or stare straight at my Scrabble tiles.)

My attention span is really taking a hit about this point. So many of the letters have been played that all is left is a 3x3 space to play these letters: F W U A I I I . Instead of making a decision, I will take this opportunity to modify any song to feature Scrabble issues. This past week it was Rod Stewart's song that got the hatchet. "Some guys have all the vowels. Some guys have all the As. Some guys get all the breaks. Some guys do nothing but complain!" to which my Dad will eventually reply, "Alright, already", especially when I really, really get into the "ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-oooo" part after that verse up there.

I also get distracted by creating fake words out of my tiles. This one isn't a fake word,
of course. It's a Russian dinosaurjustkidding.

AT END OF THE GAME:

"Turn out the liiiiiiights, the party's over..." (My Dad will sing this every time he's about to extinguish my Scrabble life.)
"Do you have time for one more game?"
"Loser picks up." (If I won the game, he'll say, "Winner picks up.")

I'm sure my script has some holes in it, but I think you get the gist of our little Scrabble movie.

Seriously, though, I cherish this time playing Scrabble with my Dad. I know life is precious and that many of my friends don't have their dads with them anymore. That hurts my heart. So, when he asks if I will still play him even when he's gumming down the Malt-O-Meal at the nursing home and can't remember how to spell, I say I will.

Of course, I will.

I love my Dad.

(And I'll probably have a really good chance of winning then.)

_____________________________________

And now...

Anna and I love hosting this "Finding the Funny" party and are happy that you stop by each week to share past or recent humor posts of yours. When I see a new face, I do split leaps! When I see an old face, I do split leaps! I love split leaps! But, seriously, thank you for stopping by. It means tons.

Oh, and, ummm...could you help a sister out? I'm at 666 followers on Google Friend Connect. Satan is not welcomed all up in the Break Room and I feel like he's sitting there staring at me every time I start dusting the Break Room furniture and begin wiping down that orange chair with my Clorox Wipes! Could I get one person to like it for 667? Going once! I'll tell you what, every person that follows my blog via GFC today (667+) will get a special shout-out on my blog tomorrow! How about that! LET'S BEAT SATAN TOGETHER, FOLKS!

Looking for Volunteers

Anna and I are looking for a few volunteers to help with Finding the Funny. We always share the top 5 most-clicked links – but we want to hear what YOUR favorites are.

We’d like to invite you to join us for one week and share your favorite posts that were linked up to Finding the Funny. We’ll share the most-clicked links, and then we’ll send everyone to your blog to read your favorites.

If you’re interested, let me know in the comments or send me an email at kelleysbreakroom@gmail.com. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - How to excel at dramatic acting. Aka: wiener hair Hot Mess Mom

#2 - Female Problems Abby Has Issues

#3 - 10 Things That Weigh As much as Jessica Simpson's Baby It's Blogworthy

#4 - What do YOU do when you buy spoiled milk? Olddognewtits

#5 - Texting With My Dad Tales of a Failed Crunchy Mom

The Very Frisky Masseuse: Should I Press Charges? (Kidding. Sort of.)

2012-05-06T20:04:00.000-07:00

This weekend my husband had to stop by his office, so we all went. The boys wanted to see what his desk looked like and wanted to see some of his current projects. In his office, I found no picture of me. Actually, I take that back. There was one, but it was stuck in his desk drawer and it was five years old. What I did find was this slip of paper from a fortune cookie he received a while ago:

Something wonderful was about to happy.

A massage!

Several former co-workers, my MIL and I met up at a Chinese foot massage place on the other side of town later that day. Before I arrived, I expected that we were going to be sitting in pedicure-type chairs while our feet were ripped a new one.

I was wrong.

After passing through the door with this sign on it below, we were led to a room with reclined chair/beds. It was actually a very, very quiet atmosphere, as you might have gathered...

(I took this picture while the owner and the masseuse were watching me.)

I was happy to remain "silence". I was looking forward to this massage. My mother-in-law went with me to meet up with my friends. Remaining silence and having a relaxing hour or so was something I had looked forward to all weekend.

Once I was put in my fully reclined chair and a towel was draped over my eyes, I waited and waited and waited for my Chinese foot massager to appear out of nowhere. Not being one to disappoint, he dropped out of thin air like a ninja and began his magic.

Magic that made me break out in a silent giggle attack over and over again. Sometimes he'd feel my body shake with a silent giggle and ask, "You ah-wigh?"

These were some of my thoughts while he was aggressively massaging my...

HEAD

Hmmmm. This is the farthest point away from my feet.

Thank God I don't have a soft spot on the top of my head anymore.

How much tip do I leave if I get decapitated?

He's massaging my ears. For the love of an Orange Julius, he's rolling my ear cartilage around and around and around and around and...

He's still rolling around my ear cartilage.

ARMS

Ouch, man.

Dude. Ouch.

Alright, he's trying to pull my arm off of my body. There must be a black market for arms. How am I going to high-five without arms?

Now he's twirling my arm around like a wind sock. It's swirling around and around. With all the energy he's creating, he could power an entire Lilliputian town. I'd be Gulliverette on the far side of the island creating energy for all of their tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny little lights.

Now he's pulling both of my arms above my head. This is how it would feel if I were drug somewhere against my will. (Note to self: Quit watching so much "I Survived".)

SHOULDERS

This is awesome. All of this for $20?? I swear I've been in this massage chair for at least the better part of a week.

Okey-dokey, dude. I think you just knicked my scapula.
Are discounts given if he takes off my scapula?

LEGS

Homeboy is getting close to my crotch.

Homeboy is getting awfully close to my crotch.

Homeboy, did you just sort of touch my crotch?

Now Dude is lifting my legs high in the air aaaaaaannnnnnd letting them fall. And letting them fall again onto the chair. Okay, he just did it again. PLOP! And again. PLOP! We've got a real Hulk Hoganfootmassager here.

Okay, now dude's crossing my legs in the air. Now he's crossing them the other way. Switching back. I'm synchronized swimming alone in a reclined chair.

FEET

Oh, that feels nice, Mr. Massager Man. Thank you.

Okay, you're massaging between my toes now. That's fine. Just don't spend too much time doing tha- Whoa there, fella! You're about to saw of my little toe!

Hee, hee, hee. That kind of tickl- Okay, ouch.

With a real abrupt slap to the feet, he lets me know he's done with the massage. I thank him in my best Chinese ("Thank you") and proceed to put on my shoes and get my purse. That's when he motions to a section of the room behind a black curtain. The lady masseuse in the room nods towards it and smiles.

So, I slowly walk in that direction anticipating finding a private check-out area. Instead, I find a long massage table with the Chinese dude close behind motioning me to lie down face first into that little face hole thingy you find on massage tables.

Huh? Haven't I already been here close to a year now? Doesn't this only cost $20? Did I sneeze earlier and it came out sounding like, "I want an upgraded massage package" in Chinese?

So, I got in position face-down on the table, because I couldn't ask, "What in the heck am I doing behind a dark black curtain all alone with you in this foot massage parlor? And why do you have a pencil thin mustache?" in their language.

Shortly thereafter, these were my thoughts as he massaged my...

BACK

I feel like a human pizza crust.

He's really going after it.

Maybe I should move my hands. He's groin is getting awfully close to my han- AWWWW! DANG IT!!! Did his jewels just brush my hands?!?

Ew, ew, ew!!!

Alright...his making his way dowwwwwn my back. Okayheisatmybutt.

Heisstillatmybuttquittouchingmybutt.

Whew. He's returned to my back.
Nowheisbackatmybutt.
Heisreallykneadingthebutt.
Alright, he's massaging my back again. This is good. OH, hold on, brother...my shirt is being moved up and...he just unlatched my bra strap.
He unlatched my bra strap.

He unlatched my bra strap.

He unlatched my bra strap.

He knows how to unlatch bra straps really, really fast.
This skinny Chinese dude with the pencil-thin mustache is getting way too close to the front. He's getting close.
And he's returned to the back.

Where are my friends?
Where are my friends?
Will they hear me if I yell?

Am I about to be assaulted in a Chinese FOOT massage parlor??

I'm memorizing Dude's shoes in case I have to identify him to police.

He's re-attached my bra strap.
Hallelujah.

Still massaging the back like a madman.

The madman is now on the table. Dude is ON the table.

Are you standing on my back? It feels like you're standing on my back.

Okay, no...just some really, really vigorous pushing.
Thank God. He jumped off the table.
He's scooting around the side of the table.
Was that something kind of ballsy that just brushed my hands again?

Then, just like that, he was finished. I got the sign that I was okay to stand up and put my shoes back on. I sort of smiled as I rushed out of the room with my hair all in disarray, sort of like my mother-in-law's:

I don't think I have ever been happier to see my friends ever. After paying, I might have exited the facility through the wall instead of the front door in my haste to get far away from Mr. Bra Unfastener.

All in all, though, it was a pretty awesome massage for $20. As much as you might think otherwise, I would totally go back there again.

Next time I'll just be sure to bring mace.

And I'll request a woman.

Does this VHS tape belong to you??

2012-05-03T13:25:00.000-07:00

Knowing that you love VHS tapes the way you do, I thought this might belong to you. I know it doesn't belong to me. (We still use Beta.)

Scroll down a little to see it. I didn't want to shock you with the picture right away. This may really hurt your heart. I feel terrible.

If this Antz VHS tape is yours, well, I'm sorry, man. I ran over it in the Target parking lot. I didn't see it until after I heard a crunch. I thought it was a very, very large roach at first. I was relieved to see that I hadn't killed such a precious creature, but then sad, too, because, well, I know how much you love Antz.

I posted that picture on Instagram. I'm kind of obsessed with Instagram now.

I took a picture of this crazy Pharmacy. On Sunday nights, that place goes wild. Arrive on time and leave whenever! Party rockin' in CVS tonight!! Everything's gonna be alright!! (See? No closing time?)

I also took a picture of the place Noah bought all of his supplies a long, long, long time ago. Can you believe it is still standing?? I'm still waiting to hear back from National Geographic. Surely this one will make the front cover. Fingers crossed, anyway.

If we aren't following each other on Instagram and you like pictures like these, you can find me at @kelleysbreakrm. I completely understand if you'd rather run in the other direction.

Although I'd like for you to follow me on Instagram, I'd LOVE for you to follow me over to NickMom today. I have two posts up right now. One came up on April 26th, but I didn't realize it until today. The other one just came up today. You all are SO awesome for being supportive of my stuff over there! I appreciate it more than you know.

Top 9 Ways You Know You're "That Mom" at Baseball Game

Disclaimer: You'll see a few words in that post that were tossed in over at NickMom prior to "going live". I am only pointing this out in case my mother is reading this blog post right now and wondering if she should wash my mouth out with soap.

Rules of Candy Land, as written by my 3-year-old

Disclaimer: I don't really have one. I just didn't like the first article getting a disclaimer without this one getting one, too. It would be unbalanced, you know?

Big hugs and virtual high-fives to everyone that stops by over there!! Thank you! 

Finding the Funny #15: The 1st Annual Matchy-Matchy Real Estate Couples' Pageant

2012-05-02T01:26:00.000-07:00

Before we jump right into The 1st Annual Matchy-Matchy Real Estate Couples' Pageant, I'd first like to announce that I was nominated as a...

by Nickelodeon's ParentsConnect! This obviously means those lovely people haven't seen me drop my oldest son off at school in my pajama pants yet. And sunglasses. I heart sunglasses. The person looking at you never knows if your eye make-up is perfect, if it is not on at all or if you remembered to put in your right glass eye. Sunglasses don't help bed head, though. Dagnabbit.

Anyway, I'm so excited and grateful for this pretty little badge, even though I have never really thought of myself as an exclusive "mama blogger". You don't even know my kids' names! Or what they look like! Or what they eat for breakfast in the morning! Or how they're doing in school! Or if they remember to wipe the seat after they're finished in the bathroom! I mean, my last post was about mascara wands and the one before that was about pillows. I'm pretty random, but...I am a mother that is a blogger. So, I will gratefully take that badge and get it made it into a car decal to stick right on the driver's side door, like one of those real estate agents.

On May 10th, I will have my debut over at ParentsConnect where they will pimp my post "9 Tips for Being a Super Sexy Mama", which you may have already read here.

So, why am I mentioning this to you now?

Well, there's a party going over at ParentsConnect that you might just want to crash! It's called "Sexy Mama Boot Camp" and it will be going on from now until the end of May. Every day that you stop by the boot camp and make a comment on the "Sexy Mama" posts, which are meant to make you feel less hot mess and more hot mama, you are entered to win a bedroom makeover from Overstock.com. Awesome, right?

That's why I'm telling you about it now. Starting chiming in over there and you may find yourself in a brand new bedroom soon! Even better than that, you might find yourself with some awesome new blogs to read and some awesome new readers of your stuff, too. Catch a free ride to the boot camp by clicking here.

_____________________________________________

And now I present to you...

The Matchy-Matchy Real Estate Couples' Pageant!!!

Since I brought up hotness and real estate agents in this post, I decided to hold a little pageant in the Break Room. Please take a look at the gallery of matchy-matchy husband and wife real estate teams that I have acquired. I'm very proud of this gallery. I have every single one of these happy couples' pictures and others like them in regal frames adorning every square inch of open space on my living room walls. It's like being at a fancy art museum, I tell you. Or in Rome. Or maybe even Paris.

Which one of these couples should we crown King & Queen of the Matchy-Matchy Real Estate Couples' Pageant? This is quite the honor, so please take your time deciding! The winners will get a free sitting at Glamour Shots and a $500 gift certificate from JC Penney'sjustkidding!

COUPLE #1
Autumn and David from Pigeon Forge, TN.

COUPLE #2
Ronnie & Cathy. I have no idea what state they're from, do you?

COUPLE #3
Tom & Joann Jacobs from Tallahassee, FL.

COUPLE #4
Eric & Janelle Boyenga from Cupertino, CA.

COUPLE #5
Jonathan & Natalie Lee from Atlanta.

COUPLE #6
Kay & Walt Covert from Manzanita, OR.
(They're actually wearing one large shirt.)

Which matchy-matchy couple deserves to win??

(Pssst...if you know of a matchy-matchy real estate couple in your area, or better yet, if you are a part of one, please share the link with me! I'd love to start a little gallery here in the Break Room. Some of the Break Room walls are just so bare. I'll hang the matchy-matchy real estate couples' pictures up near the list of my "-een/-ine" names. Such odd things bring me joy, yes?)

____________________________________

And finally...

Post your funny new stuff. Post your funny old stuff.

We want to read it.

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - Dear Walmart Shopper Wrinkled Mommy

#2 - Things I Do When My Husband's Not Home Kirb Appeal

#3 - Bleep It Out Abby Has Issues

#4 - Mom's In Her Non-Mom Mom Jeans Hollow Tree Ventures

#5 - Never Send a Man to the Grocery Store Alone Confessions of a Semi-Domesticated Mama

The Ugly Truth About Mascara Wands

2012-04-30T06:03:00.004-07:00

What's the common theme here, class?

Anyone want to volunteer an answer?

Yes! You sitting in front of the screen with the Internet on it!

Exactly!! All of the eyes look EXACTLY the same no matter which stinkin' mascara wand you use. (That's the ugly truth.)

Yet, we fall for it, don't we class?

Lash Blast

Lash Fanatic

Volume Blasting

LashExact

VolumeExact

SuperThick Lash

FabuLash

Photoread 3D Volume

Luscious Plumpin

Grow Luscious Plumping

Customeyes

Doubletwist

Lash Fantasy Total Definition

Define-A-Lash

Full 'n soft

Great Lash

Lash Discovery

Lash Stiletto

Volume Express

XXL

Falsies

And this is just at Walgreens, people!

The mascara wands are out of control! What in the heck is this?

It looks Gulliver stole a weapon from Lilliput, brought it back to the United States and sold it to Maybelline, Revlon, Covergirl, Neutrogena, MaxFactor, Estee Lauder, etc. Gulliver is RICH! First the book, then the movies and now the mascara. (Is Gulliver single?) I have never used this mini-weapon on my eyelashes, but, I bet if I did, I'd feel really sophisticated. I'd probably feel like a make-up artist in New York. I'd probably hold my right pinky out as a did it and then plump my lips in the mirror afterwards as I surveyed my work. Then I'd say, "Huh. I look just like I did yesterday."

Seriously, though, there are alllllll of those descriptive words and alllllll of those weird looking brushes for lashes that just end up looking like this, no matter which one you use:

Don't think that my discovery stops me from buying tons of different kinds.

I'm always on the hunt for the "perfect" masara, even though my eyes will look the same at the end.

It's kind of like shopping for the perfect shower cleaner. I'm always on the hunt for that, too. All of these different brands and I'm still on my knees scrubbing like Cinderella.

You disagree with me about the mascara, don't you?

(How about the shower cleaner?)

The 5 Types of Pillows: Which one is your homeboy?

2012-04-27T04:05:00.000-07:00

My husband is really particular about his pillows. He absolutely insists that they be made of some kind of material and some kind of stuffing. Luckily, all pillows are made this way, but not all pillows are made equally. I think we all know this very well. On our bed are four pillows that are meant to sleep on and seven for decoration. Out of the four that can be slept on, there is only one that really passes his test. There are a couple that look and feel alike to me. If I happen to go to sleep with his favorite pillow before he does, he doesn't pull it out from under my head (usually) but will frown himself to sleep.

He loves his pillow. It's like his homeboy.

I might get one of these shirts made for him. For real.

What makes a particular pillow someone's homeboy? You know...the pillow you want with you wherever you go. The pillow that is always by your side when it's time to sleep. The pillow that has your back in a fight. The pillow that will go with you to the movies. The pillow for which you've developed a special handshake. The pillow you don't hand out first when guests come over. You try to give them a nice pillow, but you'll never hand them your homeboy pillow.

What is so special about your homeboy pillow?

Well, I can't answer that. The answer to that question is between you and your homeboy. I can tell you that pillows fall into five major categories, though. Trust me. I have a bachelor's degree in Pillowology from The Mattress Firm University (Gooooo Boxsprings!!) and I'm working on my Master's at The Mattress Giant Institute (Goooo Tempurpedics!!) right now.

#1 The Boulder Pillow

This one has got to be the worst. How does any pillow maker assume someone is able to sleep well on a boulder? When lots and lots of people walk into Macy's to request directions to the "very large rocks for pillow section", maybe then pillows should start being made this way. Only then.

#2 The Paper Pillow

I have a confession. My 4-year-old's pillow is a bit papery. It's kind of flat. He's 4, so he doesn't know that his pillow kind of bites. He has another, better pillow on his bed, but he always goes for the paper pillow because he doesn't know better. I feel horrible now. Adults don't typically like paper pillows. They require a lot of folding and shaping before any semblance of sleep can be achieved.

This one was folded and shaped so much by this dude that he ended up creating some origami unexpectedly, which is pretty impressive.

#3 The Fortune Cookie Pillow

The Fortune Cookie Pillow will just wrap your head in it with no mercy. Both sides of your pillow are extremely fluffy and awesome, but the middle, the middle where your dang head is located, is flat, flat, flat. Your head is touching the boxsprings because it's so flat. You feel like your head is the hamburger meat inside a cotton taco. This is no bueno, mis amigos.

#4 The Porcupine Pillow

I like a good feather pillow as much as the next girl, but some of them are just vicious. Some of them make you wonder if, instead of feathers, the pillow makers used porcupine quills, or perhaps even glass shards. You wake up in the middle of the night in pain and feel like you've been hit with a tranquilizer dart. After not being able to fall asleep due to rogue feathers and a few straight pins sticking out of your pillow, you'll wish someone would hit you with a tranquilizer dart.

#5 The Goldie Locks Pillow

This pillow is, you guessed it, juuuuuust riiiiight. Everyone has their own reasons why a pillow is their favorite. Everyone has different reasons for choosing one pillow to be their homeboy or homegirl. As long as the pillow doesn't cause me bodily harm, and is not wanted by a really huge angry bear, I'm usually pretty good with it.

Which pillow is your homeboy? Which one is the least likely to go with you on a trip? Which one makes the best pancakes?

**The giveaway of the $50 Amazon gift card for joining the "My Life and Kids Community" on Mom IQ/Blog Frog is going on right now. I am one of the community leaders, so you know I'll be starting some random conversations over there. Also, if you haven't linked up to "Finding the Funny" this week, please do. Information about both can be found here. Thanks!**

Finding the Funny: Who's coming with me to Nashville to sing El Virus?

2012-04-25T04:33:00.000-07:00

Welcome to our annual Break Room meeting! I asked all of you to bring your own chairs and you did! You are all so awesome. Such good listeners, all of you. If it were up to me, I'd give you all a promotion. Actually, it is up to me. (Sometimes I forget that this is actually a full-blown corporation.) Sooooo, I'm promoting you all to one of these positions: CEO, CFO, CDO, CYO, CGO, CTO, CRO (Caw! Caw!), CZO, CAO, C3PO, CLO, CNO, CXO (Chief Xylophone Officer. Duh.) and COO-COO. Take your pick! You should see the increase in your paychecks never. Welcome aboard!

Okay, let's get to business. We need to discuss FOUR things:

#1 Wally: I have been meaning to introduce you to him for the longest time. His primary responsibility is to order Pepto Bismol for the Break Room refrigerator. If you see him in the hallways, give him a high five! He's totally lame, but it would be nice if you invited him to lunch every now and then.

Lame Wally. Source

#2 El Virus: I'm not sure if you have received a copy of my new version of Oak Ridge's boys 1981 hit, Elvira. We, as fellow Break Roomers, will be learning the song and will be performing it in front of the Oak Ridge Boys at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville this summer. We don't have anything set in stone yet, because, well, who really sets anything in stone anymore (we're not cavemen!), and the Oak Ridge Boys have no clue we exist, but don't think I'm giving up on this dream. Still waiting to be called back. It should happen any day now. I put the call in late last year, so I'm thinking it could be any day now when that phone rings. Practice those lines, y'all. There are only a few of them. Don't embarrass me. Oh! Our outfits will be khakis and very, very cheaply made orange and green polos- the Break Room colors, of course. I'm not rich, folks. This performance could change all of that, though. For all of us.

If you need a refresher on the tune, click that arrow:

(That dude right there, the one that sings first, kind of looks a white Lionel Richie or maybe more like the Hall & Oates guy, right? You know, the one that never sang? The one that was like Rosie to Sophia Grace from The Ellen Show? Poor Rosie just sways to the music, kind of like that Hall & Oates dude did back in the day...)

Okay, back to business. Here are the lines you'll need to memorize to El Virus to be belted out either at the Grand Ole Opry or Dollywood, if our first venue turns us down:

Eyes that look like they're seeing seven, lips that are beggin' for wine
I'm a little girl that sure enough has a big headache on my mind
I get a funny feelin' up and down my spine
'Cause I know that El Virus is mine

So, I'm singing El Virus, El Virus
My head's on fire, El Virus
Giddy up Oom Poppa Oom Poppa OW OW!!
Giddy up Oom Poppa Oom Poppa OW OW!!
I've (OH!!) got the shivers & I'm in pain!

Tonight I was eating at the Hungry House Cafe
And I said, "I'm eatin' all the food that I can!"
Then I started to jump and holler and had to run without payin' my dollars
'cause I started feeling really awful, got sick & had to find a trash can.

So, I'm singing El Virus, El Virus
My head's on fire, El Virus
Giddy up Oom Poppa Oom Poppa OW OW!!
Giddy up Oom Poppa Oom Poppa OW OW!!
I've (OH!!) got the shivers & I'm in pain!

Any men or deep-voiced women willing to take the solo on the "giddy up oom poppa oom poppa ow ow" lines? This is your chance to really shine, so don't let it pass you by.

#3 5 Words Every Mother Wants to Hear: I wrote this article for Parent Society. Some of you may be writing for them as well. I just had to tell you that, as of right now, over 800 people have shared it on Facebook. I am blown away. I have never had anything shared that much before. If you haven't read it yet and want to do that, you can click here.

#4 My Life and Kids Community: This is my most important announcement! I am joining 10 other bloggers in the "My Life and Kids Community" as a community leader. The widget for it is in the right-hand column. See it? Anna is the blogger behind "My Life and Kids" and is my co-host for "Finding the Funny". Today marks the kick-off for it! We are excited, as this community will be very interactive and full of fun discussions and whatnot. It will be a place that we all can get together to chat it up, especially those who love the funny. All of the community leaders make me giggle. It can be a place for you to meet new bloggers and for others to discover your awesomenessnessness. I hope you will consider joining us just because you wanna, but, as an incentive, we are giving away a $50 Amazon gift card. It is very easy to enter the giveaway. See that nifty little box below? That's how you enter. The mandatory entry is to join the community, but then you get an additional entry for each community leader's Facebook page you "like". Simple, amirite?

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Okay, that's it for the meeting. You all were exceptional. Please, walk over to the table behind that gigantic vending machine up there with the very, very, very, very large Coke in it and help yourself to a Lorna Doone.

____________________________________________

And now...we want to read your funny. New funny. Old funny. Any kind of funny. We would love to read it and go "hee, hee, hee" or "ha, ha, ha" or "ho, ho, ho" (for those that laugh like Santa). So, get to the stinkin' linkin'. Please.

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - Mother Earth will NOT Be Friending You on Facebook Random Handprints

#2 - Ladies Trim Your Bushes HouseTalkN

#3 - When Tea Parties Go Very Very Wrong Let Me Start By Saying...

#4 - Dollar Store? No More! Another Cookie Please

#5 - And I Thought Things Were Going So Well Melissa Camara Wilkins

This children's book should come with anti-aging cream

2012-04-23T06:01:00.004-07:00

Which book?

The Cat in the Hat

It is one. long. book.

The Cat in the Hat is one long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, looooooooooooooooooong book if a beginning reader is reading it out loud to you.

The sun did not......sh.....ine.

It was too wet to.................play.

So we sat in the....hou........................se.

All that cold, cold, wet day.

This Dr. Seuss book about a mischievious skinny cat is, perhaps, his most famous book. It is obviously a very good one full of fun rhymes, a fun story, bored kids, Thing One and Thing Two and a bossy fish, but for the love of all that's a beautiful shade of Pepto Bismol, that book is 61 pages long. As a comparison, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest is 563 pages long. So, they're basically the same length.

It should come with a little baggy attached with anti-aging cream or something. You rub it on at the beginning of the book, so that you don't look like an elderly tortoise when you've finished it. Now, don't get all educational on me. I know the book is awesome for tons of reasons. I think it's great myself and I happen to think there are a lot of funny parts in the movie starring Mike Myers as the cat.

But, it lasts forever.

Here are the happy mother and child at the beginning:

Illustration by Jenny Hinkle

They're enjoying their time together. They laugh together at the funny parts ("There's a talking fish in a bowl. HAHAHAHAHA!!!") and hold their breath at the suspenseful parts ("How that bump made us jump!"). They snuggle together and the mother gives herself a pat on the back for being a parent that enjoys and fosters quality time with her child.

Before not too much time has past, she's reading about the skinny cat standing on a ball with a book in his hand and a cup on his hat, but then that show-off cat has to add other things to his little trick and, before you know it, you've aged an entire year.

"'Look at me! Look at me now!' said the cat.

'With a cup and a cake

On the top of my hat!

I can hold up TWO books!

I can hold up a fish!

And a little toy ship!

And some milk on a dish!

And look!

I can hop up and down on the ball!

But that is not all!

Oh, no.

THAT IS NOT ALL...

(THANKS A LOT, CAT!!!)

'Look at me!

Look at me!

Look at me now!

It is fun to have fun

But you have to know how.

I can hold up the cup

And the milk and the cake!

I can hold up these books!

And a fish on a rake!

I can hold the toy ship!

And a little toy man!

And look! With my tail

I can hold a red fan!

I can fan with the fan

As I hop on the ball!

But that is not all.

Oh, no.

THAT IS NOT ALL...

(Ain't that the truth!)

(Oops, he just fell. I feel bad for yelling at him now.)

Actually, that part of the book is only during pages 14 through 20. Life is still fairly good. Both the mother and child are still youthful while reading. Thing One and Thing Two haven't quite made it on the scene yet, but once that big red box comes out with those blue-headed little squirts, you've got to settle in for a while. A long while. By the time you throw in the yelling goldfish, get past the cleaning up of the house ("...and he picked up the cake, and the rake, and the gown, and the milk, and the strings, and the books, and the dish, and the fan, and the cup, and the ship and the fish...") and the neglectful mother finally strolling through the door (Sally and her brother look at about 4 and 6), the mother and child look like this:

Illustration by Jenny Hinkle

Look at that. Both are still smiling. Amazing.

That's some quality time, amirite?

_______________________________________

About the illustrator: Jenny Hinkle began painting as a child and started her business Cute as a Button... and her professional art career in 2005. Since 2005, Jenny has participated in art exhibits, festivals, trade shows, and media events in the Southern US as well as West Africa, creating over 500 original pieces of art in both official and charitable project capacities. Her website can be found here and her Facebook page can be found here. Please stop by to have a look around!

9 Tips for Being a Super Sexy Mama

2012-04-20T09:46:00.001-07:00

In preparation for Mother's Day, Nickelodeon's ParentsConnect will be sharing tips from a few mama bloggers on being sexy and sassy (I just said "sexy" on my blog. Ahhhh!). They asked me to throw in my two cents. When it comes to what I know about being a sexy mama, that's about all I have anyway.

Image source

#1 Wear sunglasses all the time. Everyone knows that sexy women wear big sunglasses indoors. The bigger the better. If your sunglasses approach the size of a welder's mask, take it back a notch.

#2 Wear heels. My husband loves heels. Wear heels all the time. Wear them as house shoes. Wear them as tennis shoes (there really are tennis shoe heels!!). Wear them to the grocery store. Wear them in a boat. Wear them with a goat. Wear them with a fox and wear them in a box.

#3 Show your strength. When you carry in 20 bags of groceries AT ONCE, make sure your man sees that action. Men love strong, independent women. If at all possible, balance the gallon of milk on your head. Try at least 10 times before giving up.

#4 Always wear a cute skirt. If being sexy is important to you, throw away the yoga pants, pajama bottoms, capri pants and jeans. If you are about to run in a marathon or mow the grass, make sure your skirt is made out of something lightweight, like cotton.

#5 Talk in a husky voice. If your husband asks why you're talking like that and urges you to go to the doctor, tell him that it's your sexy voice. If he didn't hear you because he's trying to watch the last few seconds of an important game, accidentally knock over his chips and queso.

#6 Work-out. Every time I hear that song "I work out!" during LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It", I want to punch the radio's face, because, well, I don't really work out. I don't appreciate the radio reminding me that I pay $38 a month to a gym I average a visit to once or twice a month. But, working out is sexy, right? My idea if you are not an avid worker outer, when you see someone you want to impress, stop and do some lunges. Jumping jacks also work. As soon as they walk away, get that fruit roll-up you snatched from your kids' lunch box back out and continue on with life as normal.

#7 Whip your hair back and forth. Even 11-year-old Willow Smith knows that it's sexy to flip your hair around. My gut feeling is that you don't flip your hair around enough. Every time you turn a different direction or bend over to get something off the ground, make sure your hair follows a few seconds later. If you have short hair, just flip your head around a lot. If the man you are trying to impress doesn't notice your hair antics, shoot a cap gun in the air.

#8 Be confident. I'm not a sexy mama expert, but I'm pretty sure confidence is sexy. So, tell your family that you are confident they are not picking up their toys very well. Tell your man that you are confident he could help out more around the house. I'm confident your sexiness will be irresistible!!

#9 Be funny and silly. A long, long time ago when I scoured Teen Beat magazines for a poster of Kirk Cameron, I remember reading a quote from a teenage guy that said, "Funny girls are gold." He made it seem like they were so rare. We disagree, don't we, girls? In all seriousness about being funny, silliness can lighten the mood in a household. Good moods increase the sexy factor, right?

That's all I've got, people.

Finding the Funny #13: Would this make you laugh or cry?

2012-04-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, beautiful people, I had to make sure we were all aware of my recent discovery this week, so I wrote this post. You all probably have known about it forever and practice it weekly. I just found out about it this week when I was working at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center. I work there once weekly right now. It used to be my full-time job before I had my first son 7 1/2 years ago. Anyway, one of the patients brought it up to me. He said that he and his wife participate in it every Wednesday morning. He suggested that I join them for a class, but, since I'm not there on that day, I told him I regrettably couldn't. He insisted that I make a drive in one day just to witness it.

What is it?

LAUGHTER YOGA.

Now, I've never done yoga a single day in my entire life, so I'm not all about the yoga. My sister does yoga. She told a recent story about her yoga class. All of the yoga regulars were gathered in the studio in their cute yoga clothes when an older man sauntered in with his socks on his feet. One of the class goers told him that he would have to remove his socks because the teacher would insist on it when she arrived. He balked at that and said his feet were too "ashy", but removed his socks anyway. Being brand new to the yoga thing, he found a position in the back of the studio where a few minutes into the very, very, very, very quiet session, he let one rip really, really loudly, but just kept on stretching like nobody's business.

Source

Ashy feet, a quiet room and a loud rip is what I had in mind when I thought of yoga before Mr. and Mrs. Patient mentioned laughter yoga, which was developed by Dr. Kataria in India. After his research surrounding whether or not laughter is the best medicine, he developed this technique which is now being practiced worldwide. There are even laughter clubs! The goal with his technique is that forced laughter turns into real laughter, which has magical healing powers, of course. He said our bodies don't know the difference between a forced laugh or a real laugh. (Stupid bodies.) We all know it feels good to laugh, right?

People, people, people...I know that you seldom click on videos when reading blog posts. I just know you don't, but that video above is worth checking out. It makes me laugh out loud!!! It's insane! If I were to walk into a room full of these crazy people, I might think I've encountered a cult or something. Now that I know more about laughter yoga, I'm not sure what I would do. Probably stare for a long time, go get a Kit Kat, come back, decide a Big Red would also be nice, come back again and keep staring some more. And start laughing? Or crying? In a way, it's a bit scary, too. A little bit, right? A little?

Have you heard of this laughter yoga thang? If you could get a good friend to go with you, would you do it? Would you go by yourself? Tell me, tell me!

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Speaking of laughter...it's the 13th week of "Finding the Funny"!!

Anna and I are thrilled that you return each week to link up and we love seeing new faces, too. Also, thanks to everyone that takes the time to check out some of the other posts. They are well worth every second! I laugh out loud over and over again. If you decide to link up, remember that the posts can be recent or something that you wrote a long time ago.

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - If She Tries Anything Funny, I Have a Box Cutter Let Me Start By Saying

#2 - The Dollar Store Hot Mess Mom

#3 - WalMart Makes me Have to Pee Michelle Mossey

#4 - I'm Putting the "Hell" Back In Healthy Hollow Tree Ventures

#5 - SAHM back-to-work advice Honest Mom

I need a Kelley's Break Room army. Who's in?

2012-04-16T05:21:00.001-07:00

If you've been around the Break Room for a little while, you know that a nincompoop "stole" my previous blog address, which was http://www.kelleysbreakroom.com/. If you click on that link now, it takes you to a really stupid website ran by a meanie. IT IS A FAKE BLOG. The person took it in the hopes that I would fork over lots of money to get my website address back. In my effort to not care, I made a deal with Go Daddy to change it to http://www.kelleysbreakrm.com/, since that's my Twitter handle. The only problem now is that Blogger won't recognize that website. It's really complicated. It be would AWESOME if I could talk to someone directly at Blogger about all of this, but...there is no number- just lots of help desk chat rooms. So, while I cry myself to sleep thinking of my websites that are no more, I have to use a .blogspot address. It wouldn't be so bad if the word "blogspot" didn't remind of liver spots.

LIVER SPOTS

I feel like my website address is http://www.kelleysbreakroom.liverspots.com/.

There is one way I can get my original website address back. Pay the meanie lots of money. I could see me siphoning out the money from our bank account, my husband asking where it all went and me replying that it was all spent to get my original website address back. He'd put me in a human slingshot and launch me across town to land in a prairie with lots of cow patties, for sure.

That's why I'm thinking of fundraising. I'm going to need your help. Here are your options:

#1 Pen passer-outers: I'm going to need a few of y'all to pretend your blind a couple of afternoons a week. I want you to put dark sunglasses on, go inside a McDonald's, feel your way around to each table and place a pen with "Kelley's Break Room" printed on it right beside their french fries. The note attached will say, "I am blind. If you have any soul at all, you will give me a $1. Any soul at all." When they say, "What in the heck is 'Kelley's Break Room'?!" and squirt ketchup packets at your face, leave quickly and try again at Burger King.

#2 Car wash: Those of you that look best in your bathing suits, I'm going to need you to start up a car wash in your local Wal-Mart parking lots. All of the poster board signs that you make will say "Donations for this awesome car wash will go toward regaining Kelley's Break Room's original website address!!!!" When people start pelting you with raw eggs and yelling out the window, "WE'VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF 'KELLEY'S BREAK ROOM, YA FREAKS'!!", pick up your sudsy rags and water buckets and head toward Target's parking lot to try again.

#3 Wrapping paper: All of you can pitch in on this one, I'm pretty sure. All you will need to do is go door-to-door and sell wrapping paper with my button on it. The logo below will be repeated in tiny squares all over the wrapping paper. The paper is also very, very high quality. Sell each roll of wrapping paper for $10 or 3 for $30 or 4 for $40 (even though there is no deal there, sometimes you can trick people.) If anyone grabs the rolls of toilet paper from your hands, starts hitting you on the head with it while yelling, "Is that blog that belongs to the girl obsessed with Pepto-Bismol?! You think I want wrapping paper that is associated with her? Get outta here!", just go to your local drug store and try to sell them outside of there. If you'd like, I can get you a Salvation Army bell to ring so people will be more aware of your presence.

I'm still working on the Girl Scouts. I've suggested making an orange cookie shaped like a chair with mint green filling and a big "K" stamped on the front to sell along with their "Caramel Delights" (SAMOAS!!!!) next year. Every meeting I've attended armed with my Power Point presentation, though, has ended up in a restraining order. So, I'm not getting very far here. I won't give up, though.

So, who's in?

"If you don't know me by now (a song for my cleaners)", not by Simply Red

2012-04-13T07:01:00.002-07:00

I'm not tight with my cleaners anymore. The cleaners I used to have, well...we were close. It's just not the same at the new place. I love it, though, because I can get in and out of there really quickly, but they lose my stuff and always ask the same questions, like "DO YOU WANT STARCH ON HIS SHIRTS?" and "DO YOU WANT TO PICK UP YOUR CLOTHES, TOO?" (my favorite question ever- I usually respond that if the clothes are having a good time and are behaving themselves, they can stay a little longer).

Knowing that we'll never have the relationship that I enjoyed at my old cleaners, I found myself gazing out of the window of my car as I sat in the drive-through the other day and began singing this song by Simply Red to them below...just with different lyrics. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I got to the really emotional parts and remembered by old cleaners lady. I caused quite a scene. Customers were plugging their ears while yelling, "MAKE HER STOP!!!" Since the cleaners people never had even heard of Simply Red or this song in their entire lives and since the cry baby customers were plugging their ears, the cleaners people all grabbed wire hangers and poked me with them until I decided to drive off.

It went a little something like this...

If you don't know me by now

you will never, ever, ever know me

oooooooooooooooo-oooooooooooo-ooo-oooo-ooooooo

All the things....

that've been cleaned by yoooou

you should understand me

after all, I'm paying you

you should know the difference

between me and Mr. Wong

I should be given nothing

that belongs in Mr. Wong's home.

Ooooohhhhh, don't get so excited!

When I say you didn't clean my clothes right.
How am I gonna tell the father of my children

that his nice work shirt is pink and not white. OH!

If you don't know me by now
(if you don't know me!)

You will never, ever, ever know me

oooooooooooooooo-oooooooooooo-ooo-oooo-ooooooo

We've all got
our own funny mooooooods

I've got mine

Mr. Cleaners, you've got yours, too.

Just listen to me...as I trust my clothes to you

as long as we've been doing business together

that should be so eeeeeaaaaasy to do.

THERE'S SOMETHING THAT YOU SHOULD REMEMBER

or I might as well just say goodbye!!

I said no starch ANYWHERE!!!

How come you can't get that right? OH!

If you don't know me by now

You will never, ever, ever know me

oooooooooooooooo-oooooooooooo-ooo-oooo-ooooooo

(The end. You're welcome.)

Do you ever sing at your cleaners?

Rosie Jetson is my kids' teacher

2012-04-12T07:30:00.002-07:00

Although it's not typically my style to do reviews in the Break Room, I will occasionally do one if it means I am one step closer to world domination. Or if it helps my kids. Or if I just want to do it.

Sidenote: Who would really want to have world domination? Yuck. I would have no clue how to boss Ghana, Chile, Sri Lanka, Orlando, Las Vegas, Buenos Aires, Kentucky, Santa Fe, Russia AND Compton, CA around all at the same time.

When K5 Learning contacted me to do a review, I folded. My chirren could always benefit from extra time spent on improving their reading and math skills. K5 Learning is an online after-school study program for kids in kindergarten to grade 5. Their goal is that the child will independently access their program to improve their reading, math and spelling skills. There is a Parent Dashboard where you can get the scoop on how your child is doing in all of those areas. After your child takes a short assessment that gauges their skills in phonemic awareness, phonics, vocabulary, sight words, comprehension, numbers/operations, geometry and measurement, a program is created specifically for them. The next module they will work on is selected by K5 so that the child nor the parent has to figure all of that out.

Source

The reason I love it is because my 7-year-old can be independent with it. It's just him and Rosie Jetson working out the math facts. I mean, I'm not all for robots replacing us as mothers, but...it's nice having Rosie Jetson's help with his homework sometimes. Lord knows she's horrible at helping me out around the house. The least she can do is help step up his reading skills. Rosie has been helping him study his spelling words all year. He becomes less frustrated with her. If I was the one always doing the drilling, he'd yell out, "MOM, I DON'T KNOW!" or "Mom, I don't want to do this anymore!" or "Mom! Brush your hair!" (it's totally possible). With Rosie, I tell him he can finish studying it when he gets a 100 on the practice test WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE SPELLING WORD LIST (you have to watch that little stinker).

K5 Learning is obviously very simple to use or I wouldn't be able to handle it. I've got the IQ of a gnat. There is also a short 5-minute video to watch that makes it very easy to get started.

If this sounds interesting to you, you can go on their website HERE and sign up for a two week free trial. I will totally share Rosie with you. She comes with her own transportation (see the wheels on her feet?). I've actually been given a 6 week free trial to test and write a review of their program. If you are a blogger, you may want to check out their open invitation to write an online learning review of their program, too. If you decide to try it out, would you let them know that I referred you? My name is KELLEY NETTLES. Thanks, homies.

(By the way, all of these opinions are my own, of course, especially that one about not being able to rule Sri Lanka, which I just learned how to correctly pronounce a few years ago from my friend JP. I'd have absolutely no clue how to rule that place. No. Clue.)

Now, off to brush my hair... I'd ask Rosie to do it, but she's asleep.

The "Finding the Funny" link-up is still going on. If you have something funny that you'd like for us to read, go HERE. We share lots of the posts on Pinterest and Twitter. The ones that have been clicked the most get to be featured during next week's round.

Finding the Funny #12: I may be on "I Survived"

2012-04-11T05:00:00.003-07:00

Do you all remember that mountain climber that became stuck in a canyon in Moab, Utah and had to cut off his arm to survive? And then they made a movie about him called 127 Hours? And now he's all famous?

Source

Well, I know someone that did something similar to that guy back when I was in college in 1995. With the fame that guy received after that movie and now all of the episodes of "I Survived" that I never, ever miss on the Biography channel, this girl I know is trying to get famous off her story now.

She will never get all famous by me just telling her story here in the Break Room, but I thought I would at least give her a shot. Honestly, I don't want her to get too famous because I don't like her. At all. The incident that she is hoping propels her to super stardom happened right in my house. It's just that if she's famous over something that happened at my house, I'm hoping that I will get a piece of the pie, too, you know? Maybe an interview on the OWN channel or something? MAYBE I WILL GET TO BE ON "I SURVIVED", TOO????

Before we go any further, let me show you her picture. In the snapshot below, she is singing the Diana Ross song that she adapted to tell her story. And, yes, she is singing the nasty lyrics about me.

Here she is:

Isn't she ridiculous? Have you EVER seen a mouse with diamond studs? Word on the streets is that the mice community absolutely loves her song and are tripping over their four feet left and right buying her single. They're too stupid to know Diana Ross did the song first. They think Fran Mouse (now "P!nk", which, again, the stupid mice don't know already exists) up there came up with the lyrics all by herself. They're throwing money at her like it's their own and not stolen from the houses they infest day after day. P!nk doesn't care. P!nk pockets that money anyway.

The short story is this: Fran Mouse (there is only one P!nk to me) tried to get in the pantry of our apartment where my roommate and I had laid some of those sticky traps. We had suspicions that Fran and her kind were scurrying about in there when we weren't looking. One morning we got up and saw evidence that Fran Mouse had been on a sticky trap...and had escaped. Fur. Bl-- You know what? I don't want to even go into it. You could be eating some oatmeal while reading this for all I know. I want to be the LAST person to ruin your oatmeal-eating experience.

But, yeah, Fran Mouse escaped. Her instincts for survival kicked in making her realize it was better to lose a paw (Oh, no! Your oatmeal!) than to sit on that dang trap until my roommate or I found her. Amazingly, she healed and is still around 17 years later trying to tell her story.

If she wants to get FILTHY rich, she's already halfway there.

______________________________________

It's that time of the week again! Anna and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE reading your funny stuff. Anything you link up will show up here and over at Anna's blog, "My Life and Kids". It's always fun to see new faces and awesome to see people returning week after week. You can link up anything you've written recently or in the past. If you talk about it on Twitter, please use the hashtag #findingthefunny. Thanks, y'all!

Most Clicked Links from Last Week

#1 - The Scare in the Laundry Room Random Handprints

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#3 - That Kind of Day Melissa Camara Wilkins

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#5 - TIE - Spring Break Now & Then: 12 Similarities Honest Mom

#5 - TIE - Why Husbands Shouldn't Be Allowed to Have Hobbies Hollow Tree Ventures

For Billing, Press Two

2012-04-09T04:53:00.000-07:00

The picture below has nothing to do with this post. Just stare at it a minute. I love it with "my whole haht", as my 3-year-old would say. This tub of butter is a distant, distant cousin of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter". Word on the grocery aisle is that he has a brother named "You think I'm butter? You must be crazy, fool!" that hasn't been accepted in grocery stores anywhere. Such a shame. It's caused A LOT of friction within the fake butter families. Fighting within a family is always ugly, whether it is a within a human family or a butter tub family. Remember that.

Not ugly?

Paige Kellerman's words. They're really far from ugly. The opposite of ugly is beautiful, I guess, and that would not be the term I'd choose to describe Paige Kellerman's words on her blog There's More Where That Came From either. I mean, beautiful sounds all sentimental-ly. I'd choose funny. Or funnylicious. (I just made up that word and I'm so annoyed with it already.)

Paige is funny. I like her blog. It makes me smile every time. I like her style. I like her name ("Paige" is a pretty name, right?). I like her blog layout. AND I like that she wanted to hang in the Break Room today.

I'm letting myself out the door now. I'm up to here with drinking Coke all the time (fingers crossed that Paige stocks that gigantic vending machine up there with something else, like Big Red), so I have an urgent appointment at the Starbucks window in five minutes. I just mustn't be late!

Thanks for taking over the janitorial duties today, Paige!

________________________________________

First off, I don’t know if you guys realize this, but the Break Room is a lot bigger than Kelley makes it out to be. Once I maneuvered my pregnant self through the door, I was delighted to see she even has a flat screen in here that only plays HGTV.

Unfortunately, being in the Break Room is a privilege I only get if I restock the Skittles. Oh, and clean out the microwaves. Did you know she has seven of them in here?

But then I said, “I don’t want to clean the microwaves.”

And she was all like, “You better. Here’s a cleaning solution I mixed up off of Pinterest. This place better smell like vinegar and sea salt in an hour.”

But, really I can’t complain. Scraping old Healthy Choice "Chicken Medley" out of these boxes isn’t nearly as bad as paying my cable bill last night. Normally I don’t bother paying bills, but if I didn’t pay this one, they’d shut the whole thing off and I’d never find out if Kelly Ripa was wearing a size two yet, or whether Christina Aguilera had finally eaten the entire cast of The Voice.

So I called. Well, back up. Before I called, I made sure I picked a time when both my twins were awake, and one of them was holding onto my right ankle. My mother always taught me to do things the hard way. She’d say, “Paige, always do things the hard way.” And it was in this fashion that I proceeded to call the cable company on the day said bill was due.

*Ring*

“Thank you for calling Standard Cable At Exorbitant Prices. Press one if a cat is stuck in your cable dish. Press two for billing and payments. Press three...”

*Sounds of me pressing two*

A bionic Martha Stewart answered. “Thank you for choosing to pay your bill this month. Please say “yes” if you’d like to pay your balance now. It’s a good thing.”

It’s important to note here that I hate voice recognition systems. Not because I hate talking to a machine. On the contrary, I love telling the refrigerator about my day. But because they never seem to get what I said right.

“Yes,” I yelled over my toddler.

“Okay. Would you like to use Visa, Mastercard, or barter something you don’t need anymore?”

“Visa.”

“Was that “Visa”? Our system heard, “Get off my ankle or I’m selling you back to the hospital.” Is that correct?”

“No, I said 'Visa'.”

My son, sensing I was getting somewhere with the transaction, began screaming for his father. The woman popped back on. “I’m sorry, 'Go find your daddy is not an option. I don’t have a daddy. I’m a robot.'”

My forehead hit the wall. “I said Visa. Viiiiiisaaaa.”

“I’m sorry, 'pizza' is not an option. I’ll transfer you to a representative.”

While I waited for a rep, I took the time to look for a nice family who wanted to adopt a small boy.

“Hello, this is Marsha. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Marsha. Just looking to pay this bill. You don’t happen to accept tokens from Chuck E. Cheese, do you?”

“Actually, ma'am, the system says you were looking for your daddy.”

“Nope, just wanting to pay my bill. I know where my father is.”

“Are you sure there isn’t a cat stuck in your cable dish?”

“I’m sure.”

“Because there would’ve been a searing sound punctuated by a few staccato meows.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you know you can pay your bill with the automated system?”

“I did know that.”

“Ma'am, did you also know that you can press seven and hear whether Christina’s eaten the cast of The Voice or not?"

Satisfied, I hung up and looked at my son. “You were a lot of help.”

He smiled and waddled out of the room.

So, if I’ve learned anything, it’s to wait to pay the bills when the kids are sleeping. And to go check on the neighbor’s cat.

Anyway, I’ve got to get back to these microwaves. You all have a great day.

Paige's blog There's More Where That Came From can be found HERE. You can also found her on Twitter HERE & on Pinterest HERE. Now go on over to her corner of the dubya-dubya-dubya and hug her neck!

What do YOU call these little bugs? I need to know.

2012-04-06T15:23:00.002-07:00

I need to know. I need to know. Tell me, baby girl, 'cuz I need to know! (Sorry...that title got me started on a little Marc Anthony tangent.)

Peeps (that's a little Easter joke), I have a post up at NickMom right now that I would love for you to check out. It's a decision tree titled, "Where Should We Hide These Easter Eggs to Make Our Kids Smarter?" If you don't read it for you, read it for your child's IQ.

Before you rush off to NickMom, could you just tell me really quickly what YOU call these little bugs? In my family of four, I think we all call them a different name. The purpose of these question is two-fold: 1) I'm curious, 2) I like to know pointless facts, 3) I want to try out Kludgy Mom's advice from her post "How To Make Pinterest Friendly Images" and 4) I can't count.

So, what do YOU call these little dudes?

You may even call him something else. You may even call him friend. Or Al. (Thanks for sharing such personal information with me, by the way.)

(Oh, and thanks for giving the NickMom link HERE a quick click, peeps. <--another lame Easter joke that was exactly like the one I already told you.)

Finding the Funny #11: I'm a one-hit wonder

2012-04-04T00:08:00.002-07:00

Lately, I've been debating whether or not we should introduce an instrument to our boys. Something for them to hit besides the top of each other's heads. My oldest has expressed an interest in playing the drums. The thing is, we don't have a drum set in our front room. We have a piano. Maybe one of them can learn to play the piano like Justin Timberlake or Chris Martin from Coldplay, only I would see to it that my son didn't rock back and forth like a hungry pigeon like Mr. Martin.

Or maybe not.

The problem is, if we gave the boys any kind of music lessons, they'd probably end up like me.

My grandmother bought me a piano in the mid-80's. I know she had dreams of me playing that piano at her church one day. Most of the leaders in that really small church had wives that played the piano. "YEW GONE BE MAH WIFE, YOU BEST LEARNT TUH PLAY THAT THAR PEEYAINUH!" was probably something those women were told and one time or 'nother. Maybe my grandmother was grooming me to be a preacher's wife. She was grooming me to pound out "Just As I Am" on the upright piano situated to the left of the stage, I just know it.

Like this nice lady:

My mother, on the other hand, had dreams of me learning to play "The Wind Beneath My Wings" by Bette Midler. I remember at some point that she specifically said if I learned to play that one song for her, she would be satisfied with my piano playing abilities. She certainly deserved the tribute and still does.

To this day, I have yet to play either song- "Just As I Am" or "The Wind Beneath My Wings". Isn't that almost the saddest thing you've heard all week? Now, don't you curl up in a ball and start crying now. I've got to finish this post. You stick with me and then let your tear ducts go wild.

My piano bench today that doubles as a storage box for all of my
sheet music. Contained in that bench are all the songs that I can play really well.

See?

Oopsie. Daisies. The bottom fell out. Welllllll, after more than 25 years, I
suppose the bench finally threw his little nonexistent hands up and said, "I AIN'T HOLDIN' IT NO MORE. I AIN'T GOAN DO IT. FIND SOMEPLACE ELSE FER ALL THAT MUSIC!" (Why my piano bench is a flat out hick confuses me as much as it confuses you.)

In the mid-80's, I was diligently attending my piano lessons with a girl a few years older than me. I always thought she was so pretty and wanted to be just like her, but only be allowed to wear shorts and listen to Phil Collins and Madonna. She was from my grandmother's church. She probably knew "Just As I Am" by heart. We never got to it, though, because we were too busy playing the scalezzzzzzzzzzzz. Boring. Bor. Ing. I mean, gollybum (my late uncle used to really say that), I didn't want to play the scales. Give me some music by The Jets or something, girlfriend!

For some reason, my mom switched piano teachers after a little while. Maybe it was taking too long to get to "Just As I Am". I'd like to say it was because my mom wanted to give me a teacher that had lots of Richard Marxx sheet music, but that would be a lie. She gave me 99-year-old Mrs. Ford. That lady seemed 99-years-old to me. I'd sit my behind down on the piano bench and a few years later, Mrs. Ford would lllllloooooooowwwwwwwwwwweeeeeerrrrrrr herself down next to me. We'd scale the heck out of that piano until I finally had to ask her when I was going to learn something by Journey, for crying out loud. I mean, it wasn't like I was asking to pound out, "ANY WAY YOU WANT IT, THAT'S THE WAY YOU NEED IT, ANY WAY YOU WANT IT!!!!!" A little "Faithfully" would've worked just fine.

I can't remember exactly, but I think she told me to faithfully shut my fat mouth.

So, I learned to play songs like this one:

I think that's Fur Elise or something. I can't remember. I did take the picture, so don't get all CSI on me here in the Break Room or anything, you music lovers out there. Those fancy, classical pieces all start to look the same to me. There all a bunch of black circles, white circles with tons of lines, squiggles and number signs. (I know! Sharps!) I didn't mind playing Fur Elise when it was presented to me, really, because I remembered it from the 1986 McDonald's commercial. There was at least some small link to the 20th century. I had started feeling a little dusty always talking to Ludwig v. B.

The words she made up to the song were:

Oh I wish I were already there, instead of here, playing this song

Oh I would have a big chocolate shake, a cheeseburger,

and also whoops…and also fries

And I would eat the fries myself, and not give any to my dumb brother

Hands off they’re mine all mine

Oh boy my recital is almost done, it wasn’t bad, I’m still alive

And now I can have my chocolate shake, my cheeseburger,

and also whoops.. and also fries

I played that song. And played that song. And played it some more. It was my signature piano song. I had it memorized. It became a problem.

"Hey, Kelley, play Happy Birthday for your sister on the piano!"

(Cut to me playing "Fur Elise" and my dad giving me a look of bewilderment.)

"Sweetheart! Play Silent Night. It's Christmas Eve, after all!"

(Cut to me playing "Fur Elise" and the whole family huddling together sobbing.)

"Hey! Chopsticks! Play Chopsticks! Surely you can play that, right? Surely? Please? We need a little variety around here..."

(Cut to me playing "Fur Elise" while appearing helpless and giving my family a look of sorrow.)

When I wasn't perfecting that song for the billionth time, I was begging my mom to get me some up-to-date sheet music. I wanted to recognize the music I was playing. I wanted to stop playing Fur Elise already. I wanted to sit down and act like I was Kelley Joel or Kelton John or something.

So, my parents bought me this one:

Actual picture of mine. I still have this masterpiece.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yeah. "AS REAL AS IT MAY SEEE-EEE-EEEEM, it was only in my dreeeeeeeeeeams...." I never did quite get it down, though. I labored over the piano keys realizing with each missed key that I wasn't going to be able to hammer away at the keys singing "LA, LA, LA" with a big singing-and-playing-music-together-is-super-easy smile on my face. So, I set it aside.

My mom didn't want to give up on me just yet, though. Hoping that some current music may motivate me to stay in the piano playing game, she bought me..

That's right. HANGIN' TOUGH. "Ohhh, ohhh,ohhh, OH, OH! HANGIN' TOUGH!" Imagine that on the piano. Imagine me getting down and serious with my pedals and whatnot to play "Hangin' Tough". Pretty horrible thing to imagine, yes? Hangin' Tough and a piano don't mix. Actually, Hangin' Tough and anything don't mix. Still, she bought it for me because she thought it would make me happy. She thought it might motivate me to keep playing the piano. She knew I loved New Kids on the Block at the time. It was a nice gesture. She was trying.

But, it didn't help.

I gave piano lessons the boot before high school and I sent Mrs. Ford packing.

And now I'm feeling guilty. Writing this post has left me with no other choice. I've got to find the sheet music to "Just As I Am" and "Wind Beneath My Wings" and play it for my mom and grandmother for Mother's Day. Gollybum, where am I going to find THAT?

Shhhhh...

Don't tell them my plans.

Even if I find both of them, it may just come out sounding like Fur Elise.

___________________________________________________

And now...

The point of this link up is to share a humorous post you have written at any point. Anna and I SO enjoy laughing at the funny stuff you all link up week after week! It is so great to see people return and new faces pop up. Because there is such a wide audience between all of the blogs, keeping the posts PG-13ish is probably best.. If you'd like, put the name of your blog post as your "name" in the linky field so that people will know more about your post. Also, if you mention it on Twitter, please use the hashtag #findingthefunny. Thank you!

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