Ads that Annoy

Some ads on TV are touching, or tickle your funny bone. I LOVE the State Farm Mayhem ads, starring the guy that used to be on Rescue Me. Since the Aspiring Adult wrecked out 4 cars in a year by weird and stupid stuff, that's our new nickname for him---Mayhem.

The Foundation for a Better Life ads are inspiring. They're always good for a warm fuzzy.

But Geezus Pete, aren't there ads that just annoy the shit out of you? I am SO freaking glad that most of the programs we're interested in watching we can tape on DVR and watch the next day and fast forward over the increasingly long and inane ads.

These are a couple of my most hated:

The Excedrin ad where the guy says, "I didn't just WASH the deck, I POWER WASHED IT!" (cue scene where plates and napkins are drenched and flying through the air). What kind of fool "power" washes a deck AFTER it has been completely decorated for an event and all the place-settings are out on the tables?

And then there is the Angel Soft ad where the guy steps out of the bathroom and says, "Honey can you throw me a roll of toilet paper?" She has the multi-pack roll on the kitchen counter, throws it to him down the hall, and it shaves off the hair on the side of his head because it's so "rough".

Then supposedly days (or weeks) later, lame Hubby steps out of the bathroom with part of his hair grown back and says, "Honey, can you throw me a roll of toilet paper?" and the roll she throws at him blows up in his face like an exploding feather pillow because it's too "soft".

Who in the hell stores their toilet paper on the kitchen counter? Wouldn't a normal person store it in or near the bathroom? Like under the sink or something where it would be easy to get to? Urk

Which ads annoy you?

Silly Boy

Little Guy is getting ready to go to camp.

We are so very fortunate to live within 5 miles of a fantastic camp for people who have developmental disabilities. He's been going every summer for about 7 or 8 years now. Most of the campers come from way away (like different states), and many of us have tried to reserve the same week every year so that our adult kids can meet up with old friends.

This year, Little Guy has decided that he is capable enough to do his own packing, and we strongly encourage any and every act of independence! Armed with a sharpie, he set to work. He took the communal shampoo from the bathroom, his dad's deodorant, his brother's special body wash, and wrote his name on all of it. Then he tried to make off with my hairbrush.

I pointed out that we had new and unused items (not the hairbrush) in the big bathroom closet to help himself to, instead of raiding other people's stuff.

"I'm only going to be gone a week, Mom!"

Then I pointed out that we have a camp list and offered it to him. "I don't need a list!!"

Well, actually, you do. If you show up without stuff you need, they might send you home! Upon check-in, the counselors go through every item with us to make sure everything is accounted for and labeled.

So reluctantly, he took the list.

About 5 minutes later, he came back into the room, with the list in his hand.

"Uh Mom?"

What?

"Do I need a fishing license?"

No. You don't actually fish, you always boat instead. Unless you'd like to try fishing this year?

"No". And he left the room.

5 minutes later he came back.

"Uh Mom?"

What?

"Do I have to get a bra?"

Head smack time! LOL I didn't notice that the list was unisex. At least we got the bra out of the way before he got to the feminine hygiene products! I can only imagine what the counselor would think if Little Guy pulled out a box of my tampons at check-in!

:-)

Need Some Brain Power

Sorry I haven't been around that much lately. Our Studio participated in a big "Christmas in July" show at the beginning of the month and spent much of June (when I wasn't taking goof balls for the pain in my butt) preparing for it.

Now we're in the midst of revamping our website and came across a revolting development...

This past year we've been creating dozens and dozens of new and fabulous ornaments, but we've run out of the brain power to name them! Gah!! We've used Christmas Carol names, and goodie names, but frankly, coming up with this stuff doesn't seem to be the forte of anybody in our group.

We're on terminal brain fart.

I know it really isn't the time of year to be thinking about this stuff, but if anybody could give us some ideas...we'd like to get the site finished before the season starts. LOL

They can be short, long, serious, silly, whatever. You come up with them, we'll find an ornament to fit them!

Smooches in advance!!

Rantipants

Ok, haven't put my rantipants on for awhile. But since my heinie already hurts, now is as good a time as any.

Does anybody really give a shit what Bristol Palin thinks?

I've been seeing headlines for the last couple of days touting her new book. Stuff like, "Bristol Disses the McCains" and "How Bristol Lost Her Virginity".

Gah.

Not that I think Levi Johnston (the father of her child) is any less of an opportunistic douchebag, but she comes as close as she can to branding him a rapist without targeting herself for a lawsuit. And of course, her staying in a relationship with him for the next few years just proves that she is a victim. Feh.

Her story is as old and used up as time. Who DOESN'T know a highschool princess who got knocked up by a townie? What makes it newsworthy, other than the fact that her mother is famous? Seriously.

Thinking that the world is interested in how she lost her virginity makes her a ho in more ways than one, IMO.

What do YOU think?

P.S. I just LURVE Vicodin!

PITA

Sorry I've been away----I took some time off to wrap up the end of the school year and to psych myself up for some oral surgery I was dreading. It turned out to be practically a breeze---the only painkiller I needed to take afterwards was the low-dose aspirin I take every night for my heart. Then a couple of days later I hurt myself. Badly.

Remember that old song we learned as kids---"Dem Bones"?

"With the hip bone connected
to the back bone,
and the back bone connected
to the neck bone,
and the neck bone connected
to the head bone...blah blah blah"

It's a lie. A big fat lie.

Every single part of your body is connected to one thing. Your ass bone.

I mean it. And I know this for a fact, because yes, I hurt my ass.

Not going to get into the nitty gritty of what and how, but for the record, no, it wasn't hemorrhoids, and no, I didn't fall while hanging curtains nekkid and land on a potato that just HAPPENED to be sitting there (the excuse some guy told an ER when they had to pry a potato out of his rectum---no kidding!). If you were thinking that, well shame on you!

That said, when you hurt your heinie it is excruciating to:

Bend over
Sit down
Lay down
Get up
Sit for any length of time
Stand still
Walk
Take the stairs
Sneeze
Cough
Fart
Use the facilities
Reach behind you to scratch your back
Reach your hands up to brush your hair on the back of your head

The only time it DOESN'T hurt is when I'm laying in a hot bathtub of water with my knees up to take the pressure off that area (every part of my body is all pruny from doing that 6-8 times a day---except for my knees, that is), or when I'm laying in bed in ONE position with a heating pad.

But then again, it hurts like the dickens to get in and out of the tub and bed, so it almost makes it not worth it. Almost.

Extra-strength Advil wasn't cutting the pain even slightly, so a couple of days ago I broke down and accepted some Vicodin hubby had left over from when he got his wisdom teeth out last year.

Ahhhh, a tiny bit of relief! I don't like walking into walls, though.

So I'm going to take a few more days off to let this pain in my ass heal. Then Big Kid will take over from there. LOL

Be good! Use sunscreen!

ATM

At Last!

After filing a second claim over a year ago (the first one is still in appeals), and supporting Big Kid in a separate household (he hasn't been able to live with us because of the altitude) as well as paying for all of his continuing medical expenses....

Today his claim was finally approved by Social Security.

I'm waiting for it to be 4 o'clock somewhere so I can have a big freaking martini.

Oh wait, it's 4 now!

Judy 101

You guys know how much I love Judge Judy. Yes, she's bitchy, brassy and sometimes even benevolent. As a connoisseur of Judge shows (big fan of People's Court and Judge Joe Brown), I like how she's straight to the point, and doesn't try to be a buddy to anybody.

That said, I have a confession. When the guys were in high school, I had a standing date with them to be home at 4pm to watch it with me. If they didn't have school activities or work, I insisted on it. LOL

Even now that they are all out of high school, if there is a show I find particularly relevant to any of them, I make them watch it before I:

1) cook anything for them or 2) give them money.

Then we discuss it to make sure they get the point.

I doubt that I could talk any universities into doing a class on Judge Judy, although some of them have inane and useless courses on things like Madonna's Impact on Pop Culture or The Effect the Beatles had on Rock and Roll. By then you think these students are almost fully cooked (although you see a bunch of college-aged doofuses on there).

I think you have to get to them sooner. Before they become college-aged doofuses. By then it might be too late.

If only we could get high schools---maybe the Civics classes or English classes---to offer extra credit points for a special project. That way, if they're falling behind, they could get some extra points towards a better grade.

My idea? Watch 20-30 episodes of Judge Judy bitch-slapping people around, and write an essay answering some specific questions. That way, they'll have a basic grasp on some legal and common sense issues.

Such as:

Don't lend money to friends or family members. Or boyfriends who don't have jobs, or have fathered any children out of wedlock, even with you. Or girlfriends who are 10 or more years younger than you. Or girlfriends who are really hot and you're not.

If you're stupid enough to do the above, get the repayment terms in writing before you hand over the moolah. Otherwise, they'll claim it as a "gift".

Don't co-sign a loan for a car or anything else. For anyone, including your children. If you can't afford to give them the money, too bad for them.

Don't put anybody on your cell phone plan.

Don't sign a lease with somebody you don't know REALLY WELL.

If you want to have a dangerous type of dog you are responsible for everything that dog does (or any dog for that matter, but you wouldn't believe the Asshats who claim their dog is gentle after it ripped somebody's face off).

Don't let anybody else drive your car. Evah!! If you are drunk, take a cab.

Don't put somebody else's utilities/cable/etc in your name. There's a reason why they can't get it in THEIR name!

Hide your car keys. Adventurous teenagers and crappy roommates abound!

Don't try to give your friend a tattoo or a piercing, especially if he/she is a minor.

Throwing your friend in a pool as a joke isn't funny if they have a 300 dollar cell phone in their pocket. Or Iphone, Ipad, Iwhatever.

Same with tackling someone unexpectedly, jumping on them from behind, or throwing a ball in their face.

Getting drunk and vomiting, peeing or defecating anywhere in the structure (including stairwells and decks) that you rented for spring break is going to cost you your security deposit if you don't thoroughly clean up after yourself and your friends.

If you get a settlement for an injury, inherit a sum, or get a grant, don't "loan" any of it to anybody for any reason. They are leeches who smell opportunity. Some people feel entitled to another's "windfall".

Having a party in your dorm room is going to cost if somebody spills a drink on your roommate's laptop. Your party, your fault.

When you try to collect monies owed, be prepared for friends or family members to try to make you out to be the bad guy. They will say you are "money hungry". Notice that the people who say that are trying to screw you out of money THEY owe you. Happens every time. That's why you shouldn't loan money to friends or family members.

Did I leave anything out?

What do YOU think?

Awkward Neighbor Stories....

I just read an article about Awkward Neighbor Stories, and it had me in stitches!

Here's my story:

Shortly after we moved to our home up here in the mountains (about 14 years ago), our neighbor---who was a kind of creepy middle-aged single guy---made an offhand comment to me.

"You really need to get some curtains for your bathroom. I can see you when you're getting out of the shower."

Gak! I got curtains right away.

We live in a mountain development that has a minimum of 2 acres per lot. The houses aren't right next to each other---if one is built at the top of one lot, the next one is built at the bottom. There are a lot of mature pine trees on the lots as well.

But faced with that kind of confrontation, I didn't know what to think. Yes, it was awkward. VERY awkward!

A few years later, he moved, and we've had several different neighbors since then. A couple of years ago, a good friend of ours bought the house next door.

Last summer, they invited us over for an afternoon-into-night BBQ. We'd never actually been there for any appreciable time.

Anyhoo, I was telling friend's wife about creepy former neighbor, and she said, "we can't see into your house AT ALL!" So we went on a quest. We looked out of every window they had that was facing our house, and at different vantage points on their property.

The only way you could see into MY bathroom is if it was dark and you were at least 70 feet onto OUR property.

How revolting is that?

What's YOUR awkward neighbor story? Dish! Dish!

Thank You!

Thanks guys for stepping up to the "plate" LOL and giving me all these great ideas! I've been cooking my heinie off!

Love you!

ATM

With a Little Help From my Friends...

A couple of months ago, a good friend of mine was plagued with some shoulder and upper back pain. She's always been disgustingly healthy, so she put off going to the doctor.

Good thing she didn't put it off any longer.

She has a cancerous tumor the size of a baseball in her lung.

Right now, she's on a 7-week regimen of chemo and radiation. Meaning she rides down into the city 5 times a week to get a treatment of one or the other or both.

And she continues to work a full-time job. Gah.

Her employers are more than willing to give her all the time off that she needs. Her job and insurance wouldn't be affected, but she says that if she doesn't work, she'd just sit at home and dwell on her illness. A week into her regimen, her hair started falling out, so last Saturday she went and had it shaved. What a woman!

Although her friends and family have all signed up to be designated drivers down into the city, I'm working on a little something else.

It's important that she keep her weight up, but after going to the city for treatment and then working, she's too tired to cook a lot of the time. Frozen crap is boring and not tempting to the tastebuds. A diet of fast food isn't terribly healthy.

Plus, she doesn't eat meat. Not for any ideology---she just doesn't like it. She does however, eat eggs, cheese and fish.

I've decided to stock up her freezer with some yummy comfort foods she can just pop in the oven or microwave. I've already made several vegetable and cheese quiches, but I'm looking for something different, some variety.

Guess I could look up recipes on the web, but I don't want to make her a guinea pig. LOL

So I'm turning to you guys.

Do you have any tried and true recipes you cook for your family that she might like?

I'm looking for:

rice/pilaf/vegetable dishes (I already have a kick-ass Spanish rice recipe)
a different kind of mac and cheese recipe (not out of a box)
pasta recipes
potato recipes (I'd really like a scalloped or au gratin potato recipe that isn't the usual)
Soups/stews

And if you could send up a thought for healing, I'd truly appreciate it.

xo

ATM

Blogging Against Disabilism---The Road to Hell....

Good intentions are always better than bad ones. But as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with them.

My middle son has autism and some cognitive delays. He's been fully included in school since the first grade, with a para-educator. I've written a lot about him over the years, most especially about the fact that he has a passion for food and people and Disney Princesses. And his ever-present foot phobia. ;-)

Little Guy is a wonderful cook. He pores over cookbooks, and creates his own recipes and culinary masterpieces in our kitchen. He needs a bit of supervision with the stove, oven and chef's knives (Hubby used to own a resteraunt and we have a very sharp jumbo professional set), mostly because he hasn't had any formal training. As a protective mom, I don't want to find a finger in a casserole or have the house burn down.

A few of his creations over the years have been fantastically crappy, but he continues to have a lot of willing guinea pigs here. LOL

Most of his creations are marvelous. And his plate presentation is innovative and superb.

He is now 21, and has started in a pilot culinary school program for people who have disabilities that is down the mountain in the big city. There are 2 teachers to 4 students---and it's an extraordinary curriculum. While he was waiting for it to start and before they offered him a place as a student, however, he took a weekly adult baking course at the facility last fall semester and it almost tanked his chances of getting into the main program.

As the term was drawing to a close, the instructor spoke with both my son's transitions leader and his DVR caseworker, and expressed concerns that this might not be the right program or career path for him.

The alleged problem(s)?

Number one---Little Guy didn't like taking things out of the oven. He seemed fearful of getting burned.

Number two---Every time he wiped the counters during clean-up, he insisted on getting a clean dry towel from storage instead of using the one he just used 20 minutes ago.

Frankly, I was a little annoyed.

Well no, I guess that's an understatement. I was a LOT annoyed. I talked with his instructor quite a few times during the semester and she never said a word about her concerns to me. Or apparently to my son. He didn't have a clue.

So our transitions leader had a sit down with her and this is how it shook out:

The instructor never said anything to Little Guy because she was afraid of hurting his feelings. I guess she just assumed that the issues should resolve themselves on their own, because she never even addressed him about his resistance to these tasks. But her worry about his feelings almost cost him an opportunity to pursue training in the one true career he has a passion (and talent) for.

I sat the kid down and had a conversation with him.

"XXXX said that you seemed to be afraid to take things out of the oven. You take things out of the oven here all the time. Is there something different that's worrying you?"

Turns out that the class uses oven mitts he's not comfortable with because he has really big hands and they're tight. At home he has his own "Ove-Gloves" (an As Seen On TV product) that are a bit stretchy and fit comfortably. So I called the instructor and asked if it would be an issue if he brought his own oven mitts to class. Problem solved.

I asked him about the second problem, the one about having to use brand-new towels when cleaning up after himself instead of using the one he started with. This was a little more complicated. It seems that when we drummed the "germ" thing (the necessity to constantly wash his hands) into him last year when his older brother almost died from H1N1, it kind of morphed into the knowledge base he already had from Brawny commercials and home ec classes.

Used rags are more germy than paper towels. Germs are REALLY bad.

I explained to him that in a commercial kitchen environment, the pace has to be fast and that it's ok to use a towel you used 20 minutes ago. If there's debris on it, shake it out in the trash and rinse it out well in the sink. Only if it's really filthy would it be ok to go get a new one (I certainly wouldn't want my food to be prepared on a space that was wiped with a filthy rag). Problem solved.

In my opinion, the instructor must have been new to teaching students who have different learning styles although the school said not. You'd think that as soon as the issues started cropping up, she'd say something to me as an involved and engaged parent. Who but those closest to Little Guy would be in the best position to give communication tips? If I had known weeks earlier, we could have resolved it and he could have been performing at his best potential, instead of possibly writing him out of the program due to her perception of what his feelings might be.

Does he throw tantrums? Is he emotionally fragile? No to both. So WTF?

My son is there to learn. You are there to teach him. You're not going to hurt his feelings by correcting him, that is part of your function as a teacher, and if I had known about this earlier I could have reassured you about it. As a "seasoned" educator to people who have learning differences, why didn't you know that there's more than one way to skin a cat (culinary pun unintended)?

After complaining to a friend of mine who is in the business of finding job placements for young people who have disabilities, he confessed an alarming trend that he has been battling.

He goes regularly to observe the clients he places, just in case they need a little extra job-coaching to be good employees. In several of the placements, he's noticed that the staff treat his client not as a fellow-employee, but more like a younger sibling.

Meaning, if the job isn't done right, they let it slide instead of insisting that he or she complete the tasks that they are being paid for. And they talk to them in "baby" voices.

He questioned the employers and as it turns out that they---like Little Guy's previous instructor---are afraid of seeming to "be mean" and "hurting feelings".

Gah.

Like I said the intentions are good, but it's disabilism at it's finest (or worst).

Not insisting that an employee (or student) perform to his or her potential is bad in the long term, because it won't help them to grow or learn to be employable in the future. If you are kind and respectful in your tone and your terms (Basic Civility 101), correcting doesn't have to involve hurting feelings.

Why not treat all with equal courtesy?

_____________________________________

Today is the 5th annual Blogging Against Disabilism Day. I'm so proud to be able to be a part of it.

Please take some time to click on the picture below, visit some of the participating blogs and give your support.

Best to all,

ATM

Blogging Against Disabilism May 1st

Don't forget that Sunday is Blogging Against Disabilism Day! Join us!

Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

Ever since we moved into the same mobile home park as Kitty's family, I'm still having the same problem. Her mom, dad and sister come and go as they please more than once a day and they still never knock. They just walk in. I know you said I should keep the doors locked but Kitty gave them all keys in case we lose ours, so if I lock the door they use the keys. Kitty doesn't want to tell them to stop because they all walk in and out of each other's places all the time. She says that's what family does. I tried to talk to her sister about how much it bothered me but she said that as long as Kitty lives here, she can walk in whenever she wants. I don't want to say anything to her mom and dad because they don't like me because we're living together anyway. Any advice?

Luv you

BK

Dear Son,

You're just going to have to face the fact that her parents are never going to love you. They barely tolerated her first husband, and you're the guy defiling their daughter by living in sin. That she is 25 years older than you apparently doesn't enter into the equation. Frankly, I think I'M the one who should be pissed off. ;-)

That said, I think there's only one solution. Since neither of you are willing to confront them or take away the keys, I think you should revert back to childhood and embrace your previous predisposition towards nudism. Remember all those years I had to chase you around the house with your underwear flapping in my hand like a flag of surrender?

If they walk into YOUR home uninvited, they can hardly act shocked or offended to find you with your junk on display. If they have the further bad manners to insist that you put clothes on, simply say "If you had called first or been invited, I certainly would have made the time to put some pants on."

If by the third time encountering you the way God made you they haven't gotten the point, then they're all completely perverted individuals and you should demand your keys back. I'll buy you some of those magnetic box thingys and you can place them in strategic places on the underside of the mobile home in case you guys misplace your keys.

And my dear boy, if you ever confuse their bad manners with normal behavior and walk into MY house without knocking, I'll shove my foot so far up your butt that my toes will be being playing tootsie with your tonsils.

Love you back!

Mom
___________________________________________

Dang, solving his problem was so easy!! I should solve EVERYBODY'S problems!!!

Who's next? LOL

On Second Thought...

Prolly not the greatest idea to give my ex an ass-kicking on the internet. ;-)

Young Love

Little Guy and I drove up to Mom's house a couple of weeks ago to get away from it all here. Also to help her go through more crap from her basement, now that she has an incentive to make more space (her new hubby also has a house full of crap so they're commuting between the two homes instead of living in one).

We spent a day going through a couple of trunks that were filled with items and memorabilia from my first step-dad's family (they were married for 24 years and he passed away about 5 years ago). She had originally gone through it and parceled out things that may have historical or emotional value to what's left of his family (they had no children together), such as photos, yearbooks, family heirlooms, etc. The rest was vague not family items that remained unclaimed.

She had a hard time going through it again and letting things go. I think she needed me to be there to share in the memory of Pops while we decided what to keep, what to throw away and what to sell. And believe me, there were a TON of things that needed to go into the burn pile. He saved receipts for EVERYTHING! as a full-time Presbyterian minister and part-time John Deere mechanic. 50-some odd years worth. He not only kept every notebook full of his repair schedule, but every receipt ever paid to his little church for weddings, funerals, etc.

We also found the bewildered and awkward letter his dad wrote to him while he was away at Aero-Cal learning to be an airplane mechanic--wondering why he hadn't been writing regularly (and telling what prices were going for eggs from the farm). They were worried that he was living the wild life out there in the big bad hedonistic California. And we found the corresponding letter Pops wrote to him explaining that he felt he had been called by God to become a minister and would like to go to seminary. Mom and I had a good cry over them.

Later my older brother and his girlfriend came to dinner. I had brought a cooler filled with an Asian feast I had cooked in advance---just had to steam, boil and broil a few things.

Afterwards, we were away from the old folks having a smoke on the porch. My brother and his girlfriend said an unkind and snotty thing about Poppa G (what I call Mom's new hubby). It really ticked me off.

Okay, I get that my brothers are unhappy that Mom got remarried, especially since she had proclaimed that she wasn't going to do it again, and dumped several early beaus who kept wanting to get hitched. She and Poppa G had been seeing each other for a couple of years and he isn't a guy preying on a widow to financially take care of him or medically take care of him. He's comfortable financially and very active. When I was there he took me aside and showed me the plans for a cruise he's booked through Scotland's rivers to take my mom through the birthplaces of her ancestors. Very sweet.

Before their marriage they both drew up a very comprehensive pre-nup that spells out in detail that they pay their own bills, medical and otherwise. They both have assets and children. There is nothing that my brothers have to worry about, although I don't see any problem with my mom spending her money as she wants, considering that she's spent a hell of a lot bailing both of them out during the years.

They both complain that Poppa G is cold and curt to them. Maybe so. He's been nothing but kind and warm and courteous to me and my family. It may be because he's very protective of my mom, and sees that everything I do is to help make her life more comfortable, not add a burden to it, whereas my brothers pop into her life when they need something, mostly money.

Really, I don't know what they expect. I live 2 hours away and talk to her at least 3 times a week. They live 5-10 minutes away and are too busy to see her other than every month or so. Did they expect her to live out the rest of her life alone in that big house without companionship? I don't get it.

So the second night we were there, I took them to a Mexican restaurant as the designated driver in my shiny new red Cadillac. They were having a hard time getting strapped in, mostly because Poppa G was trying to fit his seat belt into the middle seat holder which is inexplicably a different shape.

"I can't get it in!" he bellowed.

My mom unstrapped herself. "Let me help you find it!"

"You say that all the time!" he snarked back.

She turned red and said, "oh shit".

I laughed so hard I nearly plotzed myself. Then I threatened to make them get out if they couldn't behave themselves. They both had a couple of beers at dinner and the hilarity continued.

Over those few days, I heard my mom, the retired Methodist minister say "shit" more than I've ever heard in my life. Poppa G confessed to me that the day he fell in love with my prim, correct Momsy was the day she inadvertently farted and blurted out, "oh shit!".

Like mother like daughter. Wow, we finally have something in common! LOL

Today we had a funny little chat where she told me a story about how they heard a joke the other day that sent them into gales of laughter.

They were standing and hanging on to each other in support when Poppa G said, "Oh no. I think I peed a little."

Mom said, "Oh shit. So did I!"

I'm so very grateful that she has found someone to love and laugh (and pee pants) with in the twilight years of her life.

Everyone should be so blessed.