Mom's Mishaps

My husband thinks I spend far too much time blogging about the family's adventures - he wants to see my faux pas given equal time.

Fine.

But they aren't that funny.

So here's a little snapshot of some of the stuff I have done recently.

A few weeks ago I was supposed to go to a Redhawks (AA baseball) game with our department to mingle with state legislators.

I had it in my calendar for the week after. So I just didn't go. Even though everyone left the office early that afternoon - which only normally happens when we have to go to a Redhawks game.

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So then we had two more Redhawks games to go to in a week's timeframe. I managed to get to the first one - on the right day. The second one I thought was a different day - but I managed to learn about that before I didn't show up.

When I DID show up, however, I came with the wrong tickets - the tickets to the previous game. We don't live near the stadium and it was super busy on campus... so I was thinking - ARGH. Paul suggested we simply try to get in with our old tickets. AND get into the NDSU suite with the old suite passes.

Me: This isn't going to work.

Paul: It might.

Me: What are we going to do if it doesn't.

Paul: Just call Char (our administrative assistant and office guru)

Me: I will do anything but I won't call Char! (She already thinks I'm an idiot for missing one of the games).

Paul: Well, you don't want to go back home do you?

Me: I would rather go home than call Char and have her come down and let us in.

Paul: Well - let's just try.

We go up to the ticket taker and I hand over my wrong tickets - she scans them and on the scanner pops up a big stop sign and an alarm sounds.

Shit.

Ticket Taker: Oh! You must have JUST bought these!

She lets us in.

The person who monitors the suite doors wasn't there. We walk right on up.

I'm going to hang onto the tickets - I think they'll get us into all the games.

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Wednesday this week as I was driving to work, I got a call from my boss asking me to do something before I got to campus. I had a meeting scheduled for 8 am. So - I called the guy I had a meeting with to say I would be late.

Me: Ray? It's Najla. I'm going to be late for our 8 am meeting today.

pause

Ray: Okay. That's okay. 

pause

Ray: But you aren't going to be late.

Me: Huh?

Ray: Our meeting is next week at 8 am.

long pause

Me: Ray. I am so glad you knew that, because I knew that and I was just checking to make sure you knew that.

pause

Me: Because Ray... I've been a little worried about you - people have been talking that you just don't seem to be the same.

pause

Me: So - I feel a lot better now that you knew our meeting wasn't until next week.

pause

Ray: (laughs) Okay Najla. Whatever I can do to help you.

Me: Great. Yes. Thanks. See you next Wednesday.

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That same morning after I hung up with Ray - I stopped by a convenience store to pick up a copy of our local newspaper. I had no money so I had to buy a 75 cent paper with my credit card.

On the way out of the store, I was reading the paper rather than looking where I was going - and I decided to try to get in the first car I saw out of the corner of my eye. Which happened to be nowhere near my own car... Thank goodness no one saw me.

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Sometime along the ride to work, I spilled coffee on my light colored skirt - something I wasn't aware of until a co-worker walked by and said, "You have a big coffee stain on your skirt."

Crap.

I went to the bathroom and tried to get it out... leaving the biggest wet spot ever. In fact the entire side of my skirt was stuck to me.

I got into my office. The president (of the university) was coming over to do a phone interview in about 20 minutes. My skirt looked like hell... so I did what any woman would do.

I locked the door to my office, took off my skirt, draped it over my wastepaper basket, and put it in front of the space heater to dry it.

All the while praying "Please God let the lock hold, please let the lock hold."

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One more thing - this one Paul asked me specifically to mention - although I don't know why.

I had a little bit of a meltdown the other day. I had come home from a long day and was looking forward to some ice cream with chocolate syrup after dinner. Paul had bought a gallon of ice cream the night before.

After dinner I open up the freezer and... no ice cream.

Fine - okay. It must be in the deep freeze in the basement. I go down and look - no. Not there.

My brain cannot comprehend - or maybe I just wasn't in the frame of mind to accept the fact that one gallon of ice cream had been eaten between last night at 8 pm and today at 6 pm.

I open the freezer upstairs again. I look carefully. Maybe I missed it.

Slowly I come to the realization that it has been eaten.

This makes me very unhappy. Actually - I went ballistic.

I take the spoon I was holding to scoop out my well-deserved ice cream and begin pounding it as fast and as hard as I can on the kitchen counter.

Me: WHY IS THERE NO ICE CREAM! WHY IS THERE NO ICE CREAM! I CAN NOT BELIEVE THAT ALL THE ICE CREAM IS GONE! WHO ATE ALL THE ICE CREAM! I CAN NOT BELIEVE I LIVE IN A HOUSE WHERE I CAN NOT EVEN HAVE ICE CREAM WHEN I WANT TO HAVE SOME! 

I punctuated each word with a smack of the spoon. It was very effective because all the men in the house stopped what they were doing and looked at me.

Followed by:

"I didn't eat any..." "I didn't eat any..." "I only had one scoop last night..." "I don't know who ate it."

That led me to smack my spoon several more times and end it with an "ARGH!" And heavy breathing.

After I caught my breath I yelled...

Me: THAT IS IT! I am going to have my ice cream tonight and the rest of you are not! 

pause

Me: PAUL! You are taking me to Culver's! Now! Zach - you watch your brothers!

Interesting enough - no one argued with me.

I stomped out to the car. We went through the drive through and I inhaled a lovely hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top.

I felt much better.

So there.