Naty Severson

Taylor Swift, Colonoscopies, Candy Crush & Shingles... A winning combination!

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Wed, 09 Sep 2015 03:29:00 +0000

What do Taylor Swift, colonoscopies, Candy Crush, and shingles have in common? Keep reading and you will find out. Also, here’s your chance to dictate what appears on the sign I hold up in the 22nd row at the Taylor Swift concert this weekend.

A photo of me comforting my dear friend, Taylor after

her most recent parking ticket. I tore it up in protest!

Dear Faithful Readers,

Thanks so much for your patience as you’ve waited for new posts to return to this blog. It’s been over a month since I’ve been able to muster up the energy to write. Being a mom, working a fulltime job, and having shingles (the viral kind, not the roofing kind) sucked away any and all of my ability to think. Seriously, I completely stopped thinking for an entire month.

Here’s the breakdown of how I used my brain capacity over the month of August:

50% - My brain telling me my shingles itched more than thousands of tiny mosquito bites spread across my back and chest.

40% - My brain registering the pain impulses from when I gave into the urge to scratch my shingles. #shinglesfail #bigmistake They call them “shingles” because they are as painful as someone nailing roofing shingles to your body.

5% - Candy Crush… I can now boast that I’m on level 1139. (This is seriously the level I’m on. It’s terribly sad that I’m actually proud.)

5% - Making sure my kids stayed alive.

Upon hearing the diagnosis of shingles, my middle child did some research (code for “Google”) on my condition. How sweet! My pre-teen son cared enough about his ailing mother to understand the horrific virus etching it’s way through her body. When he concluded his research, my sweet and concerned son marched back out into the living room and said, “Mom, I read about shingles. I think Mother Nature just called to tell you that you’re old.” #kidssuck

This same horrible child recently researched the term ‘colonoscopy’ because I told him I was driving a friend to get one. At 25 years of age, my friend was understandably nervous about the procedure. His response to her, after concluding his Google search, was “So, it’s kind of like someone sticking an iPhone on a selfie stick up there!” #toocloseforcomfort #selfiestickuses

What does this have to do with Talyor Swift? Nothing. I just had no other way to ties these three concepts together.

All that said… thanks for waiting for a new blog post!

<3 Naty

Now, onto Taylor Swift…

As you can see, Taylor and I like to hang out

and take black and white photos together.

This weekend the one and only Taylor Swift rolls into St. Paul to play three shows at the Xcel Energy Center. I’m now admitting to the world that I personally will be attending two of those three concerts…once with a friend and once with my 10 year-old daughter.

Stop judging me for:

Liking Taylor Swift… Yes, I really do like her.

Taking my child to her concert.

Going to the concert without the excuse of being a chaperone.

Going to the concert twice.

Paying to go to the concert twice.

If there’s one thing I’ve observed from my career as a more casual Taylor Swift concertgoer, it’s that Swifties (her most devout fans) can get pretty hardcore when it comes to how they dress and the signs they carry. It’s commonplace to see both t-shirts and signs elaborately lit by lights that flash continuously throughout the night.

Halloween Party! Taylor as a pegacorn.

Naty as a board game ninja.

Well, I’m ready to take a major step toward becoming a full-fledged Swifty by carrying a sign into the concert on Friday night. It’s quite possible that Miss Swift herself could actually see it. I need your help…

What should my sign say?

This is your chance! Readers, you get to dictate what I hold up from row 22 at the Xcel. Leave a comment below by Thursday at midnight (I need time on Friday to craft my sign) with what you think my sign should say. The comment I like best, or the comment that gets the most traction, will be the one I put on a poster board and carry into the arena on Friday night. In case you are wondering, this is the night I’m going with a friend, not my daughter. She would be mortified if I pulled something like this on her concert night.

Who's the Dip Now, Naty?

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Tue, 04 Aug 2015 02:55:00 +0000

Well you did it! You obeyed the signs, and I’m so proud of my readers for sending in submissions! Because I of my recent interactions with signs on a New York City subway, in a previous post I asked readers to send in submission of themselves “obeying signs.” Before I reveal the winners (there are two) I would like to show you a few of my own.

DIP (as a verb)… There are so many ways I could have gone with this. Dipping carrots in ranch seems to be the most obvious choice.

Dip...as a VERB

And because grammar matters, DIP (as a noun)… In this case, I am the dip.

Dip...as a NOUN

SLOW CHILDREN… Call me an awful parent, but I couldn’t help but take a picture of my kids in front of this sign. In my defense, this photo was my husband’s idea.

My lovely children were very excited to take this photo...

They got the joke.

SLOOOOOW CHILDREN… I took this one of my nephew. In spite of his belief that he is the fastest cyclist on 2… I mean 4…wheels, he’s very slow.

Don’t worry! He can’t read yet, so he won’t know I made fun of him.

PLEASE! NO PETS IN THE BUILDING...My son has the softest hair in the world. It’s like a pillow pet. If you’ve never touched a pillow pet you need to go to the store right now and try it. [Please, please video this experience and send it to me (naty.severson@gmail.com). I’ll put it up on the blog.] I think everyone should have a pillow pet or an equivalently soft stuffed animal in their possession. It’s amazingly therapeutic to pet a pillow pet. Once again grammar matters, and contrary to popular belief, I think the creators of pillow pet were thinking verb, not noun.

Thank goodness this didn’t happen in the building!

Now to reveal the big winners!

Winner #1 - NEW YORK BUS STOP

Apparently, there are traffic signs in New York City that say “No Standing.” Confusingly, these signs actually apply to cars (which cannot stand) rather than to humans (which naturally stand). I think the equivalent sign in Minnesota would be “No Stopping.” Apparently, these signs are placed near bus stops so the superfluous amounts of taxis don’t park or wait where buses need to pull over to pick up passengers.

In this winning “Obey the Sign” photo, you will see that the sign had been knocked over and now lays on the curb. Rachel L. decided to do exactly what the sign told her to do.

No Standing

Apparently, this drew the attention of several New Yorkers who were actually concerned that something was wrong with her. One man even made multiple attempts to make sure she was safe and in her right mind. Why would an uninjured, stable person lay down on a NYC sidewalk? When she said did it because it was ‘ironic,’ he asked what ironic meant. She didn’t know how to answer him, so she simply walked away. That’s life in the big city!

The burning question… Did the person who hit the sign to knock it over stand (or stop as normal people say) their car to deal with the situation, or did they quickly drive away as the sign instructs. Dear readers, like many mysteries in this world, we will never know. ***Deep heartfelt sigh***

Winner #2 – Multiple Submissions

Missy V. really got into the spirit of obeying the signs! Maybe it was because I saw this in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, but this is the submission that made me laugh the hardest.

Tsunami Evacuation Route

Is it too soon to make Tsunami jokes? Gosh, I hope not because this is funny stuff. Missy, I don’t think the top of that pole would be quite high enough if an actual tsunami hit that location.

Later in the week Missy sent me the photo below. I have a kinship with this photo. A few years ago I knocked myself out by running into a pole…at work…while trying to make my assistant laugh at me...I subsequently missed two weeks of work due to a concussion #worthit?

Caution! Poles are dangerous!

So, congrats to Missy & Rachel! You can expect your reward to find it’s way to you soon!

I’m looking for fun, new dares! Send them my way! (Terms of the dare) So what do you have for me? Leave a comment below and I might just take you up on your dare… as long as it’s wholesome and good-natured.

Dared to Babysit a Garden... Yard Crashers from Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Mon, 27 Jul 2015 08:40:00 +0000

This (and more) is what happens when I get dared to babysit a garden for a week…

I made some much need yard décor improvements.

A close friend of mine…let’s call her Olivia (because that’s her real name)…left her home and garden in my hands for a week while she and her husband traveled to Seattle. Being the generous and altruistic friend I am, I said ‘yes’ right away. Her only request was that I not kill anything. Seriously? It’s as if she hasn’t been paying attention the past 10 years of our friendship.

I never do anything halfway, and I rarely do things that I don’t find entertaining. Everything from my parenting style to my laundry folding techniques involve some measure of excitement and challenge. In a future post I will tell you about a fun, little game I invented that combines laundry and parenting! It’s called “Mom throws socks at kids.” It sounds mean, but my kids actually love it.

As Olivia should have known, and, if you’ve read this blog with any consistency, you know that asking me to do something is essentially equivalent to daring me take your commonplace request and amp it up to a level worthy of my admittedly limited attention.

Well Olivia, I accept your ‘dare’ to babysit your garden … and I raise you one heinous yard crash.

‘Dared’ to Babysit a Garden...and an excellent ADHD Moment

As fate would have it, my friend Laura recently bought the house kitty-corner behind Olivia’s. When she purchased her new home it came with a shed, which was fully loaded with woodworking arts and crafts from the 1970's and 80's in various phases of completion.

The Shed

Means & A Plan...Super flattering thumbnail on this video.

When my friend first examined the contents of her shed it was hard to say why the previous owners felt the need to save much of the contents.

Now I know! It was all by grand design! It was meant to be used for this very occasion. I felt inspired. Click on the video below to see the creative process.

The Creative Process

Before & After photos of one of the gems we found in the shed.

Before: Legless Bambi? No problem! I have a use for that!

After: A little red spray paint (also donated by previous owner)

and we now have the creepiest lawn decoration ever!

Some of my favorite design elements are features in this post’s first photo, but here are some of the results of arts & crafts time!

I wanted to stay on trend, so I used a chevron pattern

on many of the items.

I tried to spray paint an eye on this deer…I missed, so I made up for it with the

red paint. Please enjoy my shadow in this high quality photography.

(Photographer available for wedding as well).

“N” is for Naty!

This deer had a tragic encounter with

this wheelbarrow!

Here’s most of the overall finished product.

The neighbors inquired about our lawn enhancements, and then said (this is the complete truth),

"We have the coolest neighbors ever!"

Unfortunately for me, I’m writing this post from vacation. Why is that unfortunate? Because I’ve left my own house and garden in the hands of a friend (thankfully not Olivia). Let’s just hope that friend doesn’t get any big ideas. It sucks to get into a prank war with Naty Severson…I never lose. BE WARNED!

I’d love to here from you all! Here’s a couple questions?

1. How would you feel if you came home from vacation to your yard looking like this?

2. What great pranks have you pulled off?

Leave a comment or dare below! You have to sign-in to leave a comment. Do that before you post comment, or blogger will reject you…and you will be frustrated…no one likes rejection.

Public Displays of (my) Ridiculousness...Naty shouting in NYC coffee house & the barista's reaction.

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Tue, 21 Jul 2015 17:32:00 +0000

This blog and its commitment to dares has already ‘forced’ me to do some really ridiculous things in public places. For example, when wearing oven mitts for 24 hours straight, I couldn’t help but take my crazy mitted-existence out into the world for others to see. When I think about the idea of daring someone to wear oven mitts for a day, it has two primary motivators:

A desire to see how I navigate various daily activities and the frustration that results from the hassle.

People also want to see how I respond to the public humiliation of wearing oven mitts in public in 90-degree heat. Thank you to my friends, family, and some complete strangers for jumping on the humiliation bandwagon so quickly!

I have to admit the public-humiliation-bandwagon-riders are onto something here. If I stayed in the safe confines of my house during the challenge (which I could have chosen to do), it would be disappointing for darers and readers of this blog alike… not to mention how boring it would be for me.

Why would that be disappointing to all of us? Because we all love to see how people react when they watch or unwittingly become a part of unusual and awkward situations. (I already wrote a post called People Fell Down… So I Laughed at Them. Check it out.) Society, nor our parents thought to train us how to react to someone wearing oven mitts in Target. Our brain has no set behavioral pattern of response. Naturally, people have a wide range of reactions: laughter, question asking, staring, or wondering if I have an infectious disease… the list goes on.

When one of my friends dared (See New York Dares...& Blogs that Poop post) me to reenact popular movie scenes during my trip to New York City, I was totally unsurprised to see that ALL of the proposed movie scene reenactments involved me doing something completely idiotic and unexpected in front of large groups of strangers.

As follows, I'll show you the scene I reenacted (along with a link to the original) and then I'll tell you a bit about how New Yorkers and NYC tourists reacted to me.

World’s Best Coffee: Elf - Watch the original movie scene if you haven't seen it.

I actually love doing things like this and I often find myself purposefully creating awkwardness just to spice up life. But, in my most vulnerable moments (such as this) I have to admit to some extreme nervousness right before doing something crazy. #worththerush Nervous I’d screw up the lines under pressure, I must have watched the original scene 20 times trying to memorize the lines in the correct order. #harderthanithought Here’s the result…

My Scene:

Reaction: Lots of people stared. The coffee shop was very large and filled with ambient noise, but everyone who could hear me stopped once they realized what was going on. Why wouldn’t they? It’s unusual for people to walk into a coffee shop, shout, and then walk out.

My favorite part of this dare is that we recorded the reaction of the barista. His reaction is pretty great… I think I may have made his day. Watch it…

Barista Reaction Video:

Riding the escalator: Elf (This was the most popular movie to mimic.) - Again, watch the original movie scene if you haven't seen it.

My Scene:

Clearly, Will Ferrell is way more flexible than me

I did not include a video to this challenge. I think you get the idea from the photo.

Reaction: The reaction to this scene was minimal and not funny. Why? Because I chose an out of the way escalator in Rockefeller Plaza, and the majority of people who saw it (my friends with me) knew what I was going to do and why. It just didn’t end up being all that funny… hence sparing you a complete video.

Running like a lunatic in Central Park: Friends - Here's Phoebe in the original scene.

My Scene:

Reaction: This was a stop and stare moment for everyone who saw it. As you can see by the expression on the tourists’ faces, they didn’t expect this to happen. I was trying not to laugh the entire time. We passed this group later in the day and I sincerely hoped they didn’t recognize me.

Endless Revolving Door Ride: Elf - As seen in the movie.

My Scene:

New Yorkers and tourists alike just went around me to another set of doors. They just wanted to get out of Rockefeller Center. My friends’ reaction (as you can hear on the video) was to make me keep acting ridiculous for as long as they possibly could. Thankfully I was hip to their game and stopped myself.

New York Dare accomplished. And yes, I looked completely ridiculous in public… mission accomplished faithful readers.

A couple of quick things...

1. I'm still looking for submissions for the "Obeying Signage" Contest. (See original post)

Photograph yourself ‘obeying’ signs and email them to me (naty.severson@gmail.com) within the next two weeks. If you make me laugh out loud I will put your picture up on this blog and you may be awarded a (yet to be named) prize! Seriously, I will give out prizes… and you can take pride in your ability to be funny.

2. I'm looking for new dares... preferably ones that don't involve eating unhealthy amounts of food in short periods of time. Send them my way by leaving a comment below. If you have problems leaving a comment be sure to switch to the full web version.

Looking forward to hearing from you!

A New Tattoo... and Obeying Signage

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Wed, 15 Jul 2015 15:16:00 +0000

Someone dared me to get a tattoo, so…

A Pack of Parental Lies... Societal Norms for Shopping Cart Use.

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Thu, 09 Jul 2015 14:12:00 +0000

Below is a list of things my parents told me that are a complete pack of lies:

It takes 7 years to digest gum if you swallow it.
You were ‘Made in China.’ (My dad told me he took the little sticker off me when they got me home.)
You will drown if you swim sooner than an hour after eating.
Watermelons will grow in your stomach if you swallow the seeds. (Apparently I ate a lot of things I shouldn’t.)
Taking 4 years of high school German is a great idea.
Drinking coffee or whisky will put hair on your chest. (Oddly, my dad always made that sound like a good thing.)

I’m not saying that I don’t tell my own children wild tales such as these, but I’m selective. I realize that these parental fabrications create a ripple effect into adolescence and adulthood.

This brings us to the topic of today’s post: The societal norm of staying with your shopping cart: Is it a helpful, imaginary tether or a set of social handcuffs designed to keep us in stores longer?

This is how I feel about the way most people use shopping carts!

My mom always taught me not to walk away from a shopping cart. Much like a campy horror film, bad things happen when people strayed too far. Her main scare tactic: Someone would steal her purse if I didn't stay near the cart to watch it. As we entered a store my mom would ask me to choose a cart (don’t pick one that pulls to the left or has a squeaky wheel) and immediately set her purse on the little fold out child seat. Then I, small Naty, would vigilantly stand guard. While I appreciate my mom wanting her small child to stand guard over her purse, it led me to the false conclusion that as an adult shopper, I had to be completely tethered to my cart.

I vividly remember the day it dawned on me that rather than having my purse in the front of the cart, I could (unlike my my mom's example) simply keep my purse on my shoulder… like I always do when I’m walking around in public.

I’m not sure why it took me several years of adulthood to make that intellectual leap. As soon as I realized I could wear my purse while grocery shopping, I felt like a new woman. I was finally free of the shackles that only existed in my mind.

This opened the floodgate of thoughts that completely revolutionized my cart shopping techniques!

Shopping Cart Revolution!

The video above shows my clear belief that there is a better way to manage shopping carts than our antiquated cart-to-person tether technique. I could spend 5,000 words giving a detailed explanation of my technique, but I'm sure no one would read it. I’ll keep it short.

Use the Pull & Park Technique

Pulling your cart makes it easier to turn and saves time by keeping you in front of the action.

Naty’s Shopping Cart Strategy:

Limit your cart’s path to only the main, wide aisles. Never take it down numbered aisle.
Always point your cart in the direction you are headed.
Park your cart at the end of any given aisle you need to access.
Walk down the aisle (without your cart) and gather the things you need.
Move quickly.
Return to your cart & drop your items into your cart.
Keep moving.

My Assertions:

This is much faster for the average person.
This cuts down on the traffic in the aisles making it easier for everyone.

Here is irrefutable video evidence that my technique works…

Huge ‘minivan’ carts with kids falling out all over the place really clog the aisles. Watch me pop right out of the crowd with what I need!

Carts double wide blocking the aisle? No problem for Naty!

Please forgive the dodgy quality of the videos above, my cameraperson was pretty freaked out about getting caught shooting video in Target. Every time an employee got within 15 feet of her, she dropped me out of the frame to hide the phone. She must have parents who peddled lies about the jurisdiction and unfettered power to destroy lives bestowed upon Target employees. I kept reminding her that they would assume she was texting or watching a video and at the very worst ask, we would be asked to leave. She disagreed... total ripple effect.

People are exempt from this technique:

People with small children who still ride in carts. It’s a bad idea to leave your kid at the end of the aisle. If my mom wouldn’t leave her purse unattended in the 80’s, you shouldn’t leave your kid now.
People who need the cart with them to aid balance or minimize walking.

Ways you can screw this up:

Get stuck in an aisle too long, so your cart gets in the way of everyone else or those who need products on that end cap where you parked. For my chattier readers, beware of neighbors and/or those who might recognize you due to the public nature of your job.
Bad parking… just like in life, bad parking is unacceptable with a cart.

Because some people do need their carts near them, the rest of us should take one for the team and not clog the aisles.

Change is Hard. :/

I know many of you reading this are very skeptical, if not down right disgruntled about my attempts to change America’s shopping habits. Please, before you give way to your desire to adhere to the norm of shopping cart tethering, just remember this old adage often sad by parents about horrible foods: Don’t knock it, ‘til you try it.

I’ve tried to convince many of the people dearest to me to give my technique a try. I've been meet with significant resistance from three particular friends. I now officially challenge three of my most organized, precise, and rule-loving friends to break free of their societal handcuffs! Rachael, Alli, Brieanne… It’s time to shop… Naty-style.

Terms of the Dare:

Go on a substantial (needing many items… enough where a cart is necessary) shopping trip to either Target or a grocery store.
Follow my rules for cart use as listed above
Bring a friend to film your experience.
Document your feelings about your experience in writing or on video.

Questions for my readers:

1. What weird falsehoods did your parents teach you as a child?

2. What do you think of my technique for shopping cart management?

As always, if you are having trouble posting comments from your mobile device, please click ‘view web version’ at the bottom of your screen and try again. Thanks! I love hearing what you have to say.

The Scariest Dare Yet!

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Mon, 06 Jul 2015 14:50:00 +0000

It's nice to know you have the support of family and friends when you try something new, right? When I began this blog endeavor a few weeks ago, I felt a great amount of encouragement when my husband, cousins, friends, and even my mom, who only pretends to be computer literate (Love you, mom! FYI, commenting on Facebook isn’t the same thing as commenting on a blog.), jumped on board with resounding enthusiasm. They were the first to come forward with funny, good-natured dares. I couldn't of been more proud of them.

How, in just over 3 weeks, has this gone completely sideways on me? What was for one brief, shining moment legit dares has now turned into an excuse to contract me for indentured servitude. In the past week I’ve been dared to do gardening, childcare, and house cleaning by the people nearest and dearest to me! What gives?

Even my husband couldn't resist the chance! He dared me to get the oil changed in the car. One would think that this particular request, in order to be dare worthy, would involve me wearing a clown suit, not showering for five weeks, and setting up a five course meal with table cloths and candles in the waiting room. But it did not. He simply asked me to get the oil changed.

At this point you might be asking yourself, what kind of dare is that? Isn't this something all adults do on a regular basis?

Answer: Yes, I imagine it is.

But the joke is on me, people... I've never done this by myself. Never. The closest I've come to something like this is riding in a tow truck after I crashed a car while calling my husband to pick me up so he could deal with the aftermath.

I truly hate this type of thing. It's not that I have the antiquated notion that this is a man's role. If you know me, you know I have little tolerance for prescribed gender roles. But I have a terrible distaste for all things routine and scheduled. I just can't will myself to do routine auto maintenance.

I put oil changes in the same category as mowing the lawn. In theory, I like the idea. It's outdoors. There's exercise involved. I can't hear my kids if they are fighting or complaining. Sounds ideal, right? That's because it really is! I just don't know what's wrong with me. I place partial blame on my husband who, until last week, completely enabled me to live with this deficit.

How did I respond to this simple oil change dare? I totally put it off. I didn't even know where to begin, and frankly, I didn't want to know where to begin. What would happen if I learned how? Will there be an expectation that I continue to handle the maintenance of my own car? Unfathomable!

I eventually caved and talked to my brother-in-law about oil changes. I figured he's the guy who sold me the car, so he should know what to do. He recommended a dealership near-ish my house and gave me very specific directions about what he wanted them to do. When, during his explanation he started saying words that I didn't have any context for (Example: Dextose), I asked him to just send me what he wanted me to say in a text. (Thank you, Jesse!)

Having finally worked up the courage to accept Jared's dare, I found myself incredibly nervous. I don't like to appear as though I don't know what I'm doing, so I called the dealership while driving to the my oil change and asked a whole bunch of questions about protocol. The voice of the woman on the other end of the line was kind, but my endless stream of questions was obviously testing the limit of her patience.

I pulled up to the dealership with my sweaty hands tightly gripping the wheel. I parked my car and was immediately met by a friendly gentleman in a blue button up shirt who, to my surprise, wanted to sell me a car. When I told him I needed an oil change his first words were, "if you get back in your car and drive around the building, I'll meet you there and point you in the right direction." I couldn't tell if I should be concerned for my safety or labeled a complete oil change failure.

After being given an elaborate set of directions, I followed the gigantic, clearly labeled signage (which I had somehow previously missed) toward the quick lube... not to be confused with the body shop. I pulled up and once again got out of my car. Before I could shut the door a man in a black shirt shouted (in a nice way), "Just stay in your car, I'll come to you."

What the heck? Is there some weird oil change rule about not getting out of your car? Why did my parents never teach me this? Was this like a car wash thing? Just put your car in neutral and you'll come out the other side with an oil change. Bamm!

The black shirted man eventually made his way to my can and after gathering my info he told me to leave the keys in the ignition and wait in the lobby. This produced two significant issues in my mind:

1. Having just navigated the labyrinth of the dealership parking lot, I, in spite of my geography degree, was totally ignorant of the lobby's location.

2. My new ‘space car’ doesn't have keys. It has buttons.

When I announced, "I don't have keys," the repair guy looked at me like I was an insane person. I swear to you, I was so nervous at this point I began to sweat. Hoping to end his confusion, I held up my key fob. He nodded his head and said, "Leave it on the windshield. Sometime those new cars lock the keys inside." Was he messing with me? Leave a rather expensive, small, roundish item on my nearly vertical windshield? How would they not roll directly into my engine? It was my turn to look back at him like he was crazy. At that point he ended my confusion by taking the 'key' out of my hand and placing it on the windshield wiper blade. In my heart I knew at this point that I was failing this dare.

After being pointed in the right direction, I made my way to the waiting area. When I opened the door I was shocked! It was filled with clean (defying my expectations with this one adjective), comfy chairs and had a counter completely stocked with snacks, soda, and coffee! The large sign with the wifi password caused my heart to skip a beat. I was in love... with a lobby! Endless Candy Crush with no data usage while drinking diet coke from a clean, nicely padded seat... I may as well have been floating on a bed of clouds! 45 minutes later I was sad to leave.

Oil changes, where have you been all my life?

Yes, that is a picture of me with my hair down. Enjoy.

A special thanks to my husband for this dare!

Now you can show this post to your 16 year-old so they can learn to do this at a normal age.

Questions for the readers:

1. What do you, as an adult, avoid doing that you should really know how to do?

2. What dares do you have for me... Or a friend? I'm more than happy to exert some peer pressure on your friends in the name of a good dare.

Phones don’t seem to play very nicely with Blogger. If you are having trouble leaving a comment, please click at the bottom of this page for the full web version.

New York Dare (& Blogs that Poop)... I need your help!

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Thu, 02 Jul 2015 15:59:00 +0000

I vividly remember what it felt like to leave my newborns with their first babysitters. I was nervous that something would go terribly wrong. After all, babysitters might not do exactly what I would do in a crisis situation. I had a lingering fear that a sitter could irrevocably screw up my kid in the two hours I was gone. At the same time, my heart was flooded with excitement to get a break from my screaming, smelly bundle of joy. Is it terrible if I finally admit that I always hoped my kids would poop while the babysitter was there so I'd have to change one less crap filled diaper that day? In spite of these conflicting emotions, I realized that in the long run leaving my newborn would be best for everyone.

Well, today I leave my tiny, little, baby blog in the hands of its first guest writer. Welcome Laura! Today she is laying a Big Apple dare for me and she needs your ideas. Please support her by leaving your comments. Hopefully my blog will take a poop today so Laura has to change it. Enjoy Laura's post below!

Dear Esteemed Readers of Naty’s blog,

My name is Laura, and I need your help.

In a week, Naty and I are traveling to New York City. This seems like the perfect place to get her to do ridiculous things in the name of a dare. But I need some additional creativity.

I’m daring Naty to re-enact 5 funny NYC moments from TV or movies. Because I’m an ex-kindergarten teacher, I’m all about giving people choices so that they think they have some say in what’s happening. I want your help in thinking of funny TV or movie moments that took place in New York so that Naty can choose which 5 she wants to do. We only have a weekend, so let’s not make it anything too lengthy. I still need time to ride carousels and eat cupcakes in the Big Apple.

Here are a few I’ve thought of so far:

1. Iconic Elf scenes:

Going into a coffee shop and shouting something along the lines of “You did it! The world’s best coffee! Congratulations!”
Running around in revolving doors
being afraid to go up an escalator

2. Riding the train to Roosevelt Island and shouting “Don’t worry, Spiderman will save us!”

3. Running through Central Park like Phoebe on Friends

It is early in the morning (ok, not really that early, but I only have decaf coffee left in my house, so thinking is hard) and I can’t be bothered to think of anything other ideas. But I’m sure that you’ve got some scenes in your head right now that would be highly entertaining to watch Naty recreate. Leave your ideas in the comments below! For bonus points, feel free to include a link to your scene on Youtube.

Thanks for your help! You are my favorite reader!

Sincerely,

Laura

P.S. If you don’t comment with your ideas, that’s fine, but then I’m switching to daring Naty to do some landscaping for me. This will be a pretty boring video montage to watch, but I feel like I win either way. So really, the choice is yours!

People Fell Down... So I Laughed at Them.

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 14:40:00 +0000

Spoiler Alert: If you are in more of a mood to see people fall down than you are to read, just skip ahead and click the first video link and the last two video links in this post. I promise you they’re worth the click. For those of you who haven’t completely given way to the intellectual laziness and attention atrophy promoted by hyperlinks, continue reading this highly unintellectual and relatively short post dedicated to adults who act like children. #childlikestupidity

This is a video of a friend of mine attempting to jump and hang from a tree branch. She fell down... so I laughed at her.

Why do we laugh every time someone falls down? The life span of the show America’s Funniest Home Videos is proof that we are completely entertained by watching our fellow human beings take a good tumble. Here are a few examples right off the AFV Youtube channel

Treadmill Falls. I laughed so hard while watching this I may or may not have peed a little. Then I watched it again.

#exercisekills

Skateboard Falls. Serves them right… rebels!

Skater punks have it coming…

And finally, a montage of swing related falls.

Well, this blog isn’t afraid to join the likes of AFV (and by extension post-Full-House-era Bob Saget) and capitalize on our extremely unempathetic desire to laugh when otherwise able-bodied people unintentionally leave their feet.

What happens when this strange desire and the inability to resist a dare collide? The answer is obvious… Someone will fall down and everyone watching will laugh at him.

While camping a couple of weekends ago with a group of fans of this blog, I was privileged to witness some truly comical behavior as people fully embraced the culture of ‘daring.’ Over the course of the weekend several dares had been thrown down and attempted to various degrees of success. In full disclosure, I will admit that these fans are my cousins, and as such they are all genetically obligated to be fans of this blog. After I finish telling you about their ‘playground zipline dare’ I will let you decide if I should be proud or mortified that I share DNA with these guys.

THE ZIPLINE DARE

Terms of the Dare (if you would rather skip this video, go ahead. There’s a summary below. This video isn't super exciting but you do get introduced to the participants.):

Video Summary: One grown man is going to push another grown man as hard as he can on the zipline (approximately 2/3 of the way). If the ‘pushee’ can hang on to the zipline handle when it hits the end of the line and abruptly jerks after stopping, the pushee has successfully completed the dare.

Many things about this dare seemed sketchy:

· A group of grown men completely take over the most popular piece of equipment on a playground designed for small children.

· This dare could have been more dangerous than the guys thought.

· The guys kept upping the stakes of the dare until they achieved failure.

· They kept going after they achieved failure.

In spite of the sketchy nature of this dare and the risk of injury, I couldn’t resist the urge to pull out my phone when they told me what they were doing. I recorded the outcome of their dare in a series of videos for all of you to see.

Tony’s First Attempt:

Boring! As you can see, Tony easily survives the first attempt. Giving in to their need to see someone fall, the guys renegotiate the terms of the dare and determine that two grown men should push so that greater momentum is placed on the pushee. Please note that the pushee changes in this next video. After watching Tony succeed, Ken decided he wanted in on the dare. I’m not sure that Ken realized they had renegotiated the terms of the dare when he signed on for this. I don’t think the guys cared.

Ken’s Attempt:

Ken totally knocked the wind out of himself, but he was fine in the long run. We all laughed longer than it took him to start breathing normally again. #humaninstinctismean

Tony decided that he wanted to try again despite the fact that he just watched Ken take a hard fall. Why? I have no idea. I wouldn’t sign up for that!

Tony’s Second Attempt. Sorry the video is dark. Turn up your screen brightness for this one. Before starting this dare the guys actually waited until the park was cleared so they wouldn’t show kids (other their own… they are all fathers) how to be dangerous on the playground. We were losing light quickly at this point.

A very athletic 'dismount'!

My assessment of this dare: I wouldn’t do it, but then again my doctor told me to stop hitting my head. Apparently a 4th concussion really puts a doctor on edge. Who knew?

Funny Factor: 3/5

Creativity: 2.5/5

Family Bonding: 5/5

Danger: 4/5

Send me videos of your dares (naty.severson [at] gmail.com)! I might just share them on this blog! As a warning, I won’t encourage danger, so anything more dangerous than this won’t be considered for this blog!

Oven Mitt Dare - My 24 hours wearing oven mitts.

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Fri, 26 Jun 2015 21:47:00 +0000

The Face of Oven-Mitt Empathy

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to wear oven mitts on your hands for 24 hours straight? Yeah, neither had I. Apparently @balski78 has wondered this (I’m currently concerned about her mental health), because she dared me to do just that.

Terms of the dare: Wear oven mitts on your hands for 24 consecutive hours. You may remove one mitt while in the bathroom. After some brief negotiation, I convinced her that allowing me to remove two gloves would make for better overall hygiene. She agreed to my revised terms, and the dare was set.

Knowing that I was going to begin this dare at 8 am Thursday morning I did some planning on Wednesday that mostly consisted of me thinking through things that would be difficult with oven mitts and taking a trip to Target.

Preparation Shopping List:

New oven mitts – I only have two. One is completely disgusting and the other is made of silicon and the chaffing would have been epic.
A stylus – iPhones don’t play nice with oven mitts.
Spray sunscreen – My kids and I still intended to be outside, and sunburn isn’t cool…nor is wearing oven mitts saturated in lotion. I can imagine greasy paw prints on everything I touched.

I never thought oven mitts would intimidate me, but when I closely examined the selection at Target, I started to get worried. They were all massive and completely inflexible. I’m sure they would have completely protected my hands from heat, but it’s almost as if the manufacturers didn’t consider their continuous wearability factor in 80 degree heat.

Like anyone looking for lower quality oven mitts, I made my way to the Dollar Tree. It didn’t disappoint! I walked away with two low quality oven mitts perfect for this challenge.

I woke up yesterday morning ready for this challenge. I got myself ready and put the oven mitts on my hands at 8:09 am.

It didn’t take me long to realize what I couldn’t do:

Online shopping – I couldn’t get my credit card out of my wallet
Cracking eggs – I’m confident that I could’ve done this, but I elected to ask for help rather than have raw eggs on my ‘hands’ for 23 hours
Cut strawberries – See Above
Open soda cans – There’s no chance I was going to risk breaking my teeth for a Diet Coke
Use the key remote for my car – Those buttons are smaller than you think!
Eat puff corn from a bag – I found a work around for this. See video below.

My kids really got behind this dare. They had their different reasons. My oldest son and daughter made numerous attempts to get me to try to do things. As any child of a prankster mom would be, they were totally bummed out when I succeed at anything and didn’t make a fool of myself. My middle child, being the most empathetic person in our family, attempted to relate with my struggle by wearing potholders on his hands. He even played X-Box in them! He gave up when he couldn’t turn the pages of his new book. Nerd.

I also decided to try and a hang poster in my daughter’s rooms. Who would try to make tape balls while wearing oven mitts? Here is a 3 part video series if you are interested. After the extremely successful poster hanging venture, I announced to my friend “I’m too good at wearing oven mitts!” so fair warning that the videos might not be as epic as one might hope.

Before it got too hot outside for oven mitts (#ironicstatement), I took my daughter and her two friends to the park. Yes, the friends’ parents did know I’d be wearing oven mitts and they still let me take their children (#questionableparentingchoice).

This panda was begging for an oven-mitt-high-five

After setting up some American Ninja Warrior obstacles for the girls, I took a seat on a shaded park bench where I could feel a cool breeze blowing into my potholders. It was glorious. All in all, it was a decent morning for oven mitts in a Minnesota summer. Sadly, I realized I had left my stylus in the car, so I resorted to using my nose to swipe the screen and open my phone. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It turns out that I have a surprising knack for nose to screen interaction! However, my enthusiasm for this newfound talent died as I quickly succumbed to motion sickness due to keeping my face 2 inches from the phone.

Sensing my frustration at not being able to use my phone at full speed, my ever-supportive husband joined my children in trying to sabotage my day by posting on Facebook that people should call and text to wish me a ‘Happy Oven Mitts Day!’ Who knew a post could be so effective? My phone lit up like crazy before I ever saw the post. Turns out there is a surprising lack of oven mitt emoji. What’s up with that, Apple?

Life goes on, regardless of whether you are wearing oven mitts or not. Things on my calendar for the rest of the afternoon included:

Driving a friend to the airport
Coaching my daughter’s softball team
Celebrating a friend’s birthday

Airport Run: When I picked my friend up wearing oven mitts she just rolled her eyes at me. It’s as if my friends expect this crap now! I’m totally losing the element of surprise. After I assured her that driving in oven mitts was just like driving in regular mittens she agreed to get in my car. I mean, what was she going to do? She could ride with me or miss her flight. Rest assured, we arrived at the airport without incident. I did pass a state trooper and held my hands very, very low on the wheel so he wouldn't pull me over for being crazy.

Oven mitts are hot no matter how cold the temperature in the car is. I think this move made my passenger nervous.

Softball Practice: Yes, we had practice... and yes, it was at the field directly adjacent to where our city carnival, Height's Jamboree, is being held. I’m so glad that more people were around to witness the spectacle I made of myself attempting to throw a softball with oven mitt hands. You wouldn’t expect it, but thankfully oven mitts are surprisingly similar to batting gloves.

Excuses I devised for wearing oven mitts in public that are a total pack of lies:

I have a contagious skin condition. It’s for your safety.
I’m a professional hand model and I just can’t risk an injury. I have a huge gig tomorrow.
I hate your germs. They frighten me. (This one is kind of true, but fear has never driven me to wear gloves, much less potholders.)
You never know when someone might hand you a hot cookie sheet. I want to be ready this time!

Birthday Dinner: I capped the night off by going out to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Two words: People. Stare.

When I got home my daughter was just climbing into bed. She looked up at me and said, "Mommy, if you didn't have those oven mitts on I would fall asleep faster because you could scratch my back.” #sad

Questions for readers:

If you had to wear something ridiculous for 24 hours, what would you choose?
As always, if you have a good dare for me, post it in the comments, maybe I will give it a try… or maybe I will dare you back!

As with every good dare, there has to be a revenge dare, so here goes. @balski78, I triple dog dare you to wear flippers on your feet for 24 consecutive hours. Your one exception will be while driving. Flippers can be removed for the sole purpose of safety, but must be placed back on your feet before exiting the vehicle.

I Triple Dog Dare You, Naty!

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Sat, 20 Jun 2015 20:39:00 +0000

What would you do on a dare? The answer to this probably depends on who you ask. Watch cable television long enough and you will find that some people will do completely inane things simple because they are dared. Compare this to people like my husband, who, when dared, are actually repelled from whatever the dare involves. (I’d like to publicly ‘thank’ him for passing this trait on to our daughter, who won’t do anything she is asked to do.) What’s it like to pass through adolescence virtually immune to peer pressure?

I, Naty Severson, seem to have an extreme weakness when it comes to being dared. If the dare is not morally questionable and will not hurt others, I have a hard time saying no.

Small Dares… Last night while camping, my cousin, after stating it was impossible to evenly roast a rectangular marshmallow, dared me to do it. In his defense, I had just finished a six-minute soliloquy that basically implied that I was the best marshmallow roaster that the world has ever seen. Naturally, I accepted his dare.

Before

After

This particular dare had very low stakes and a very short time frame.

Crazy Big Dares… Late one night last summer at a cabin in Northern Minnesota I, as I like to do, began shooting off my over-active mouth claiming that anyone who put their mind to it could write a novel. Sensing an opportunity for a legendary dare, my friends capitalized on my inability to decline a dare and challenged me to write my own novel.

The terms of the dare:

Write a fiction Trilogy
The novel must have a modern day setting (i.e. no dystopian or supernatural elements)
The story must center around a love triangle
Include 22 specific and totally ridiculous plot points (example: the main character has to be a peanut butter heiress who is allergic to peanuts)

With the terms of the dare set, I started putting plot points together, created an outline, and eventually wrote the first several chapters. To my surprise, my friends not only liked my first chapters… they wanted more.

Well, I wrote a book. To be more accurate a 87,000 word novel.

Before you ask...

No it's not published... Yet.
No, it's really unlikely that I would let you read it as it is. But feel free to make a case for yourself as an exception.
Yes, it's a legit good book.

Why this post?

I like a good challenge, and I need some fresh ideas. I’m looking for your suggestions!

DARE RULES:

Let's keep this all above board. This is not an excuse to be...

Moronic
Dangerous
Hurtful

This is a chance to be...

Clever
Creative
Innovative
Funny

Fine Print: Like peanut butter and jelly are meant to go together, some dares were just meant for particular people. Therefore, I reserve the right to pass dares on to others for whom they are perfectly suited.

So what do you have for me? Leave a comment below and I might just take you up on your dare… as long as it’s wholesome and good-natured.

Urban Shuffle-Boch - Where office jobs and sport intersect!

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Mon, 15 Jun 2015 03:35:00 +0000

I’m very excited to report to all of my readers (which at this point is the 5 people I've told about this blog) that I could be responsible for developing the next great sport in the American office place. Yes, you heard it here first: Sports and white collar office environments are not mutually exclusive thanks to a game I (and some of the staff I oversee at my job) call Urban Shuffle-Boch.

Urban Shuffle-Boch (USB… I know this acronym is already widely used, but I really don’t care) combines the apparatus of shuffleboard with the scoring rules (some modification) of bocce ball, all played on an ‘urban’ field.

A photo of my coworkers and I on our ‘lunch break’ just before a big match. This crew has pioneered the sport of Urban Shuffle-Boch

Let’s break this down word by word just a bit further.

Urban: Our office is located in the very urban setting of Downtown Minneapolis, but that isn’t why we chose this word. We have found that urban environments, particularly roadways, are cluttered with unnecessary obstacles that make life more difficult. So, the playing field for USB is simply a large meeting space that has been unnecessarily cluttered by random things. Overturn a few meeting tables, throw some jackets on the floor, move around some garbage cans, slide around a few chairs, and BAMM you’ve got the perfect playing field. USB lovers around the world boast that no two playing fields are alike!

Shuffle: I found shuffleboard sticks (called cues or tangs) and weighted pucks (called biscuits) on a garage sale. Best $7 I’ve ever spent. I didn’t know what to do with them so I brought them to my office hoping to convince my coworkers to find some creative use for them during breaks the workday. Needless to say, I’m very pleased with the outcome.

Shuffleboard fun facts (Thanks Wiki):

Shuffleboard is one word. I didn’t know that until today. Sad, but true.
The game of shuffleboard is over 500 years old. It even predates billiards.
King Henry the VIII didn’t allow commoners to play the game, which included gambling. (In my office, pride is the only thing at stake.)
Shuffleboard is a low physical exertion game.

Urban Shuffle-Boch can get pretty intense depending on the temperament of the player. Personally, I have a rather high amount of excitement and volatility while playing.

This is me carefully eyeing a line for a shot under my desk chair.

USB players slide shuffleboard biscuits with cues during game play.

Boch: A shortened form of the word ‘bocce.’ USB incorporates many of the playing and scoring rules of conventional bocce ball. (Bocce ball rules Video)

Key Rule Variations:

The foot fault line is marked by a whiteboard eraser while playing UBS.
Rather than being a small white ball, in USB the jack (or pallino) is a beanbag shaped like a turtle.

Although most often played using two teams that each consist of two players, other variants of team size my also be utilized.

If you are interested in learning more about Urban Shuffle-Boch, I want to hear from you! Just let me know by commenting on this post!

Alternate Forms of Transportation flooding the streets of Minneapolis

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Wed, 10 Jun 2015 19:30:00 +0000

Yes, I totally took this picture while I was driving. In my defense, I was driving so slowly that I could’ve thatched a basket while typing my second novel and still avoided an accident. Given I followed the scooter pictured above for a good 6 or 7 minutes (which felt more like 25) I had plenty of time to explore my mixed emotions about alternative sources of transportation.

Here is my evaluation of the most popular forms of alternate transportation in my hometown of Minneapolis, MN. Let's start with the most pedestrian varieties and work our way up...

Walking: I like walking. I find it to be incredibly relaxing. But, as a mode of transportation it becomes extremely stressful due to it's slow pace. I hate being late, and I hate wasting time. When I try to negate the slowness factor by speeding up my pace, it definitely moves into the category of exercise. In my world exercise is not stress relieving, it's a necessary byproduct of my entitled American existence.

Running: Sooooooo much work. And sweat. I sweat a lot. Alas, Minnesota is a very healthy state so running is kind of a big deal here. In fact, Forbes magazine rates Minneapolis as the healthiest city in the US. In a different article Forbes Magazine also listed Minneapolis as one of the Top 10 cities in America for runners. It's important to note that they did factor in the weather in making this decision. One of two things is happening here. Either Minneapolis is a pretty good place for healthy runner types, or Forbes magazine is being paid off by the mayor.

Shoes with various wheels...

Roller Blades: Meh. Unless you went to college in the late 90's (like me) you probably don't really give a crap about roller blades. I, on the other hand, rollerbladed my way to class for the entire 4.5 years I attended the University of Minnesota. Well... that’s not entirely true, I hung up the blades over the winter months. During a Minnesota winter all of the options listed in this post are virtually unavailable to anyone who values their life.

Roller Skates: While this has to be one of the least efficient forms of alternate transportation, increased cool points are awarded to anyone wearing roller skates anywhere... except through airport security lines... the TSA frowns on that. Check out the Minnesota Roller Girls to see what I mean.

Heelys: I was too old to catch this trend, but I remember 8 year old kids rolling past me in the aisles at Target in the early-2000's. I probably rollerbladed to Target that day and those same kids thought, "What the hell does that lady have on her feet?" It’s OK kids, I asked myself the same question when I saw you in Target.

Longboards: Every hipster in Minneapolis has a longboard, which they ride to various degrees of success. I would love to see a graphical depiction of the increase in longboard accidents involving people wearing beanies in 80 degree weather. I hate myself for thinking these people are cooler than me.

Bikes: Thanks to bicycling.com I now know that Minneapolis has been rated at the #1 city for cyclists. I wonder if the writers at bicycling.com factored in the vast number of single speed bikes being ridden by hipsters who have recently been in longboarding accidents? Hipsters... Travel & Leisure magazine did rank Minneapolis as one of the Top 5 snobbiest cities in America.

Bikes with winter tires are pretty cool and hardcore Minnesotans with zero risk aversion totally ride them all year long.

Scooters: Is it wrong that I think the option of scooters should only be available to women? Why would a fully grown man (big enough to handle a motorcycle) choose to ride something that sounds like a weed whacker and has a top speed of 20 mph (this is entirely based on my experience with the scooter pictured above). There's nothing less manly than a dude on a scooter when he's not riding it to be ironic. I will make one notable exception for University of Minnesota football players. I'm pretty sure when they hand out jerseys they also hand out Vespas. Unlike the jersey's, the scooters are one size fits all.

Motorcycles: They are super cool... no doubt about it. But whenever one passes me going 80 mph on the freeway I whisper "organ donor" as they pass by.

Smart Cars: Parking = Huge plus. Fuel efficiency = #winning. So many pluses. But in a city dominated by SUV's and ice for half the year, tiny cars are a risky move. Have you ever seen one of these things after an accident? I think I could run into one while rollerblading and do more damage to the car than it would to me. Heaven only knows what a well-padded, winter hipster could do to a smart car!

Thus ends my thoughts on alternative forms of transportation.

What are your thoughts on this topic? What types did I miss?

When Bad Spelling and Extra Teeth Collide

noreply@blogger.com (Naty Severson) — Mon, 08 Jun 2015 19:39:00 +0000

There are a lot of things they don't warn you about before you have children...

Persistant mom guilt
Everything disgusting that happens before, during, and after childbirth
Traveling sports fees
How having three kids makes 2 parents exist in a chronic state of zone defense
The absurd volume of food a 13-year-old can eat
The ridiculous cost of the above mentioned food
How your IQ drops 10 points for each child in your family

The list could go on and on.

Most recently I've been introduced to a whole new set of medical anomalies involving teeth. A couple of weeks ago I took my 13-year-old son to the orthodontist to get braces... installed... mounted... placed... Is there a correct verb for this? We showed up expecting to come home with a full set of braces only to discover that a last minute X-ray revealed a mesiodens (Yes, grammar police, that's always plural-looking.) hidden under his upper gum.

What is a mesiodens? It is an extra tooth! You might say, "Great! An extra tooth is awesome just in case he smashes one out playing on that really expensive traveling baseball team while eating tons of costly food." Nope. Totally not great... especially when the mesiodens (still having a hard time adjusting my verb tense for this word) is growing upside down toward his nose and is tangled in (and damaging) the roots of cosmetically necessary front teeth. Unlike the $20 I often find in coats I haven't worn in months, this was not a good surprise.

Consult an X-ray technician if you can't make sense of the photo above,

but that's a mesiodens.

My son, the genetic lottery winner of a bonus tooth, would require oral surgery to remove this tooth before it does further damage to his permanent front two teeth. Here is a representation of the cost break down...

1 Week Food Supply < Traveling Baseball < Oral Surgery for a Mesiodens < A Cheap Car < Braces < 2 Dental Implants < A Much Nicer Car < A House in Columbia Heights, MN < College Education < Regaining My Sanity

Upon first hearing that my son has a mesiodens, I misunderstood the orthodontist and wrote down 'mesodent'. As you can imagine, I went home and told my husband this word. I also complained to many (and I mean many) friends about my sons 'mesodent'. Heck, I probably complained to a cashier at Target and mesodents while swiping my Red Card. Needless to say, dozens of people knew about my son's 'mesodent' issue and his need for surgery to correct the problem.

A few days ago I actually Googled 'mesodent' and it corrected my spelling to 'mesodont' and directed me to this definition on freedictionary.com

FYI, I played both the American and British pronunciations 5 times each. Sans accent, they are said exactly the same way.

What?

Apparently I had been going around telling people that my 13-year-old son needed oral surgery to fix his condition of having very average teeth. To the very bottom of my soul I hope that someone went home and Googled 'mesodont' and found the definition above. I also hope they laughed for hours about my ridiculous need to cure my son's abject averageness. Makes sense right? Why settle for average when you can have bigger, more beautiful large teeth via surgical enhancement... It's so American!

For the record the New International Encyclopedia tells me:

Microdont = Small Teeth

Mesodont = Average Teeth

Megadont = Large Teeth

I'm a megadont... sounds like a dinosaur of some kind. Just think of all the trouble my dentist could have saved me by just using the correct medical terminology rather than just saying things like, "Wow, Naty. You have such big, beautiful teeth."

What's the moral of this story? Like any good story, there's a few...

Ask medical professionals how to spell things as you write them down
Fact check before you spread incorrect information about any diagnosis
Dentists should teach us more big words

Questions for the readers...

Did/Do any of you have mesiodens(s)?
When have you misused a medical term?
What should be added to the list of things they didn't tell you before you had a kid?