Potty Talk, Swearing and IKEA Guilt

My husband is replacing the circa 1977 toilet in our master bathroom.  Who knew that there were so many choices when it comes to toilets?  We bought the one that could handle flushing an entire bucket of golf balls down.  I’m not going to get into the reasons for buying such a powerful toilet because I’d like all of you out there to continue to read my blog, but let’s just say that my sons are not very “green” about conserving toilet tissue.  Nuf said on that.

Eldest Son did indeed get his permit.  After presenting at least 20 documents proving that he is who he is, I am who I am, I gave birth to him and I intend to drive with him, we were off.  I only called upon the Lord one time when we were turning left to enter our sub.  We both agreed that it’s best to let all traffic clear BEFORE turning left and my blood pressure is now normal.  Otherwise, he did just fine.  Only 49 more hours to go. 

Finally, since my husband is on vacation this week doing house projects, we visited our local IKEA for some inspiration for Youngest Son’s room.  I find IKEA fascinating in an eco-friendly sort of way.  When using the self-check machines, a friendly woman’s voice comes in and asks if you would like a bag.  I always have IKEA guilt at this point and I hesistate for a few moments.  The friendly voiced woman should just ask, “Would you like to contribute to global pollution?  If yes, then select one of the plastic bags for $.05.”  I then make myself feel better buy buying a fat-free ice cream for $1.00 at the IKEA bistro.  There’s no guilt in that.



One thought on “Potty Talk, Swearing and IKEA Guilt

  1. Guess what I’m doing today? Taking oldest son to get his permit! I hope I do as well as you.. when he’s driving, I may opt to sit in the backseat, blindfolded perhaps? I’m glad I read your blog though.. I didn’t even think of bringing 20 forms of ID. I imagine the conversation would’ve gone like this:

    grumpy clerk: ID?

    me: Ummm.. what.. my ID? It’s in here somewhere.. just a sec.. I have lots of receips in this wallet.. Oh look.. a gift card for Starbucks, how fun is that? *big cheerful smile met by stoney glare*

    clerk: NOT YOUR ID.. His ID.. birth certificate..

    me: birth certificate.. hmm… I haven’t seen that since …. hmm.. when did I see that last? I meant to get organized several years ago.. bought a bunch of files from the container store.. have you ever been there? It’s the coolest place… anyhow… we didn’t bring the birth certificate.

    clerk: Well then he can’t get his permit.

    me: Gosh, that seems sort of harsh. I mean, look how tall he is.. almost 6′.. seriously, do you really think he’s what.. 12? He has man leg hair.. honey.. show her your leg man hair.. OBVIOUSLY he’s old enough. And besides.. I’ve been letting him driving without that silly old permit for over a year now.. not long distance or anything.. it’s not like I let him drive from home from Indiana but like the grocery store.. and he does great. So what’dya say?

    Clerk: NEXT!

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