My Son and the Side Boob Hour

I'm a bad Mom. I let my kids watch hours and hours of Family Guy. I've even purchased season collections for them. Worse is that I watch it with them. As much as possible. Then we drive my husband, who doesn't share our love of the show, insane with our constant references to the show. The quotes drive him right up the wall. This is just an added bonus.

Our favorite episode is PTV. This is the one where Peter, with the help of his dog and his baby, start their own television station. One of the fine shows they air is called The Peter Griffin Side-Boob Hour. A whole hour is devoted to men getting a chance to see some side boob. If you have a son you realize that they pretty much spend most of their time trying to get a look at any kind of boob and side boob ranks pretty high in forbidden glimpses. Actually, my husband says that it isn't just teenagers. All men do this.

My son got his first glimpse of free boob (free boob is our family's term for any boob a man gets to see in a public place without having to pay for it) when we were on a ski vacation in Banff. My husband was packing up the vehicle and my son was playing around at the back of the hotel. By chance, he looked up and there it was: FREE BOOB! A young woman was getting changed right in front of the window without a care in the world I think that, in my son's mind, he must of heard angels singing and harps playing. It was magical. He ran over to my husband to tell him what had just happened. My husband listened and told him that seeing free boob was just like finding a four leaf clover. My son could count on good luck for a long period of time because of it.

I felt lucky for a whole other reason. If he liked boob it meant I might be able to count on a grandchild from the kid. I was NOT worried about my boy being homosexual. I don't care what my kids are as long as their happy. Either way would have been fine with me. But the whole grandchild thing would have been harder and I might have been forced to wait longer. This is bad because I hate delayed gratification. My only worry is grandchild worry. I only have 2 kids and my daughter has made it clear that she will NOT be having children because they will touch her stuff and the mere idea of children touching her stuff is enough for her to say "NO" to the idea of having kids. In the end, I don't care who has one and how they have to go about getting it. I just want one. Sorry, that had nothing to do with side boob. I'll get back to that.

Last summer my son got his first job. He worked at the little grocery store at our lake. The store is full of women in bikinis in the summer. It isn't hard to see why my son likes his job. When he leaves for work he yells that he's off to watch side boob. One day he came home with a story to tell that went beyond the side boob. He had been standing at the counter watching a lovely young lady in a suit a couple of sizes too small for her when the boob gods smiled at him once again. She leaned over and her boob popped out. His vantage point was a definite asset because she couldn't see him looking at her. Low and behold, she didn't even notice right away! Took her a bit. When he told me the story I reminded him that it was a sure sign of good luck. He agreed that he had indeed felt pretty lucky.

Now I suppose that this whole idea of side boob and free boob should go against my feminist belief system. I suppose I should be telling him to never view women as objects of lust. In my own defence, I have raised him to treat women with much respect and that women have the same rights as men. He knows that violence against women is wrong. I should put an end to the notion of side boob and encourage him to look away. Maybe I should tell him to gently let the woman know that half of her hooter is hanging out. Maybe I should tell him to look away quickly if he sees anything remotely side boobish.

No. I don't think I'm going to that. I'm not going to ruin his fun. I'll let his future wife (who I am sure I won't like because she will never love him as much as I do) ruin it for him. I think I will continue to treat free boob and side boob kind of like I treated Santa Claus. Something magical that should be celebrated.

In the Hack with Lululemon

Lululemon claims to make yoga-inspired athletic apparel. Go to the website and you will see happy and healthy people looking great in the stuff. Lululemon has a dark side though. A side it doesn't want you to see or know about. Truth is, Lululemon is just clothing for fat chicks who jut want to wear sweatpants all the time. How could I make that claim? What evidence do I have? Truth is, I'M a fat chick who just wants to wear sweatpants all the time. This is my story.

Despite my yearning to get away with wearing sweatpants all the time, I stayed away from Lululemon. Sure, the pants were nice enough to wear to work but I am just way to cheap to shell out that kind of money. What person in their right mind spends $98 on something called a Groove Pant? Give me $10 and I'll find you a perfectly good pair of sweatpants from Value Village. You're on your own trying to get the Value Village smell out. I only agreed to find them and buy them for you.

I was forced to break my ban on Lululemon (I frequently place bans on places that offend me and then am forced to rescind the ban when my need becomes too great) when I took up the most embarrassing sport known to women. Curling. I am convinced that curling was invented by men so they could see just how huge our asses really are. Curling leaves a woman with very little pride. You get down into that hack (I just used the curling term "hack" here to impress my husband with my ever growing knowledge of curling terms) and you can't hide ANYTHING! So my friend told me I should just waddle on down to Lululemon and they would fix me up with some pants that would cover that whole mess up.

I went at the only time I figured I could buy something at a price low enough not to cause me to rant at one of the granola eating, non-armpit shaving, peace loving, employees. Boxing Day. They actually had a line outside the door with a velvet rope and a doorman. As soon as I made it inside I grabbed some of those fancy Groove Pants and headed to the changing room. I have to confess that I was expecting something pretty spectacular for that price. My sister claims that it hides every problem area. She lied. My laughter could be heard over the din of shoppers. Those suckers didn't hide anything. They actually accentuated every nasty flaw I had and I discovered a few new ones I hadn't known about.

I made another cruise around the store and headed for the clearance rack. That is where I found them. Something I hadn't seen since the 80's. No, not the Thompson Twins. Stirrup pants! Stirrup pants in all their glory. Yes, Lululemon makes stirrup pants. I snapped those suckers up and bravely faced the changing room again. It was then and there that I had my Lululemon moment. They fit, they hid, and they didn't ride up my leg. As well, they have this handy roll up waist that goes mid-back so I no longer have to suffer the agony of curling crack. And you know what? Those things only cost me $29 a pair. So I bought 3.

So, now I am a fat chick who gets to wear sweatpants all the time. Lululemon has not inspired me to become athletic but they have provided me with an inner peace that is supposed to come from yoga. I'm pretty pleased with that.

Olympic Whining-The Newest Event

Olympic whining should be an exhibition sport at the next Olympics because some people are seriously training for the event.The Vancouver Olympics had not even started and people were jumping on the whine wagon. It all started when Georgian luge competitor Nodar Kumaritashvili was unfortunately killed in a training run on a track that folks were quick to call way too dangerous. The opening ceremonies offered a wide range of targets for more complaining. People were late, that whole prairie scene was lame, the arms of the Olympic cauldron malfunctioned, and then (for shame) Wayne Gretzky travelled in the back of a truck to light the cauldron by the harbour. The weather has even come under criticism. How could the Winter Olympics be held in a place that can not promise snow? Bashing these Olympics has become it's own event and I can think of a few folks who should be standing at the top of the podium to get their medals.

Here is a little news flash: people have died at the Olympics before! A cyclist died during a race at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome. A British luger died in a trial run at the 1964 Winter Olympics in Innsbruck, Austria. I clearly remember the nasty death of Swiss skier Nicholas Bochatay at the 1992 Winter Games in Albertville, France. This poor guy was just getting in some practice before the end of the games and hit a snow-grooming machine on the way down. I think running into a snow-grooming machine ranks right up there with worst ways to die. Then there was the bombing at Centennial Park during the 1996 Atlanta Games that killed two people and wounded countless others. Of course we can not forget the 1972 Munich Summer Games. Terroists killed 11 Israeli athletes and coaches while the world looked on in horror. These events are barely mentioned when talking about Nodar Kumaritashvili, only complaints about how poorly designed the sliding track in Whistler is and how a death was inevitable. Really? A death in luge was inevitable? What a shock! Sliding down an ice-coated chute at over 100 km an hour with no padding might result in a death? Comes as news to me. Frankly, I'm surprised when sombody does not die during a luge event.

The complaining over the opening ceremonies really gets my goat. It was fantastic and shame on Canadians for finding fault. Sure some stuff was a little cheesy but I can not recall seeing one pretty little Chinese girl lip-synching for a girl deemed too ugly to appear on television like we saw at the Beijing Olympics of 2008. Our opening ceremonies featured the chunky slam poet Shane Koyczan, with full neck beard, on a raised pedestal. No need to hide this guy because he did not fit some coookie cutter idea of perfection. His talent was what brought him there and that is why we should applaud him.

Now I'm reading articles that the ceremonies just were not ethnic enough. The opening ceremonies gave us a glimpse of every part of Canada. It would have been impossible to feature every ethnic group that lives in our country and it is ridiculous even to suggest it. We had a lesbian singer, Aboriginal Peoples dancing and singing, and our gorgeous Hiatian born Governor General Michaelle Jean officially opening the Games. What more do you want? Should they have thrown perogies at the audience? And really, so what if the cauldron did not rise up in the manner intended. In typical Canadian fashion the problem was overcome and we made due. The only person who is allowed to complain about the malfunction is Catriona Le May Doan. She was the only one ripped off.

Finally, the weather. Canada can not control the weather. It just so happens that a warm spell picked this time to appear. The folks involved in the Olympics have knocked themselves out transporting snow to ensure that the games could continue and they have done a great job. All the events at higher elevations are just fine but when you run an event at a low elevation like Cypress you are bound to have problems. Anybody who has ever skied knows that, at this time of the year, spots like Cypress are a crap shoot. Maybe we should be giving ourselves a pat on the back for hosting an Olympics that has worked hard to be as green as possible. At least Olympic organizers did not have to schedule events around air pollution like the Beijing Olympics!

If Canadians can claim one unifying trait it is our eagerness to believe and accept every nasty thing other countries say about us. Stop it right now! I say pull up a chair, grab a fine Canadian beer and enjoy watching our incredible athletes do one hell of a job.

10 Things Nobody Tells You About Marriage

Miraculously I have managed to stay married for almost 15 years. This is a pretty huge accomplishment since I'm no slice of joy to live with. I give most of the credit to my husband. The man has the patience of a saint.



I know some younger folks who are planning their first wedding. They are so filled with joy and cotton candy dreams about what life will be like once they are married. I have to bite my tongue when they tell me how wonderful their marriage will be and how they will not be the kind of couple to fall into nasty ruts. Hah! As an experienced veteran I know the truth. I battle with my inner demon over the question of telling them the truth or allowing them to live in their little fantasy worlds. I think I might just print up the following list and slip it into their mailboxes.

10 Things Nobody Tells You About Marriage

1. Your husband will develop ear and nose hair. You will notice these hairs and tell him that it might be time for a trim. You might even end up doing the trimming yourself.


2. Initially you will worry about what your husband is wearing and you will spend considerable time shopping for him and giving him advice on what looks good. Quicker than you will believe possible, you will stop caring. You'll have enough to worry about getting yourself and the kids ready. I have lied to my husband when he has asked me if items match. I figure if he doesn't know his colours yet, it's just too late.


3. Planning time alone once you have children will be like planning a military campaign. Much effort will go into it and there are bound to be casualties.


4. You WILL consider your husband snaking the tub drain a truly romantic act. As a side note: let him brag about the size of the clog. It will make him feel manly.


5. At some point in your marriage your husband will buy your Valentine's Day gift at Safeway. Just be glad he didn't shop at the gas station.


6. Don't fool yourself, your family is just as crazy as his is! In my case-crazier.


7. He doesn't care about the colour of the shower curtain. In fact, he really doesn't care about any colour schemes that you might be cooking up. In my husband's case-he doesn't even know what a colour scheme is.


8. He will have some crazy ritual that he does with his friends that will embarrass the hell out of you. I won't even say what my husband's is. Suffice to say that all the women who are partnered with his friends, along with me, just grin and bear it.


9. You will slave over a meal for him and serve it with pride and he will be totally grossed out. You. Not me. Everything I cook is great.


10. You will argue. You will scream and use language that no self-respecting trucker would be caught dead using. If you don't fight there is something seriously wrong with you. If your expectation going into marriage is that you will never fight you need to rethink this whole thing right now. Just throw a party for you and your friends and wear your dress to get the whole wedding thing out of your system.

Those are some of my truths. I don't make the rules I just live by them.

My New Obsession

I recently came back from my sister's farm in Saskatchewan with bags of lovely fall vegetables. My sister plants a garden that produces enough vegetables to solve a hunger crisis in a small third world country. She just needs them to arrange transport. My sister wants me to believe that she does this so she doesn't have to eat chemical laced produce from evil supermarkets. Truth is that, after having 7 children, she does it for the peace and solitude. If you want your kids to leave you alone just use the following magic phrase: "Want to come help me weed the garden?" From what I've witnessed, the phrase is guaranteed to give you hours away from your offspring.

Back to the issue of what to do with my bags of fresh produce. Faced with bags of beets, I had to come up with a solution fast. There was only so much beet borscht my family was willing to eat. I figured I could take care of the beets and the potatoes in one quick swoop. Mashed potatoes and beets were born. I did some checking and it turns out there are recipes out there for this marvelous creation but I guarantee you none of them are as good as this one. Mine is born of some serious consultation with the beet loving secretary who runs the school I work at. For a week we shared the results of our many experiments in the kitchen and the following is the addictive result:

• Cut up one huge beet into cubes and boil it for about 10 minutes in a pot full of salted water. To those who don't salt food: get lost! The beets take longer to cook so start them earlier than the potatoes.
• Add 5 large potatoes cut into large sections.
• Boil the whole thing until the potatoes are tender.
• Drain and mash with 1/2 a cup of butter, (Use butter, not margarine! Margarine is evil and should only be used to lubricate squeaky doors.), enough milk to get a smooth consistency, 2 nice size tablespoons of horseradish (This is the secret ingredient that sends this stuff over the top.), a teaspoon of kosher salt, and a ton of lovely black pepper.
• Beat the hell out of the potatoes. I like to use an electric mixer and just leave a few lovely chunks of beet floating around.

Serve these with anything, or nothing. My daughter prefers them on their own in a heaping bowl topped with even more butter. Bless her skinny soul! I think I might need an intervention over my growing obsession because my fat pants are getting snug. Oh, remember that beets will cause interesting results in the bathroom about two hours after consumption. Don't panic! You are not dying!

Sausage and Peppers

This is super easy and the smell that it leaves on your husband's breath will keep women with straying hands far away from him!

You will need the following:

• 8 - 10 GOOD quality Italian sausage. Do not go cheap here and try to slip a second rate sausage into this recipe! I go to a lovely local Italian deli and get an equal amount of sweet and hot sausages.
• 4-5 red, green, and yellow peppers. You decide which you like best. I like to use all three. Cut them into nice size chunks. You don't want them so small that nobody can see them.
• 1 diced purple onion
• 1 cup of that boxed wine you have sitting on the counter
• 2 tablespoons of olive oil
• 2 tablespoons of butter
• A package of 8 crusty rolls

Once you have everything, follow these instructions:

• Bake the sausages in the oven at about 350º until they are nice and brown. Take them out and let them get cool enough for you to slice them in 1 inch chunks.
• Heat up the oil in a frying and toss in the peppers and the onion. Cook until almost tender and then toss in the sausage. Add the wine and let this simmer until the liquid reduces to about 1/4 cup.
• Add the butter to finish off the sauce.
• Taste and if it needs salt and pepper add as much as you see fit.
• Divy up the mixture so everybody gets a fair share.

Enjoy!

Things I Have to Remember

Summer has started and that means weeks at the cabin. As a mother and wife, I have numerous things I have to remember and prepare in order for summer to be a bit more enjoyable for my family. In addition to remembering to bring essentials like bedding, towels, sunscreen, dog food, clothing, bug spray, and a ton of food, I now have to remember what books my husband has read during our time together.

As a couple, we start to look for lake books while still in the icy grips of winter. It is vital to have enough reading material to wile away our free time at the cabin. This is essential if we are to effectively ignore all the work that needs to be done on the place! I start off my summers the same way every year. I have bags of new books to read but I always start with a reread of my favorites. This list usually includes a fair number of Carl Hiaasen novels with a couple of Margaret George's thrown in for good luck.

My husband, on the other hand, goes into a blind panic as he looks for all the books he bought earlier in the year and then proceeds to drive me insane with the same question which is repeated so many times that it puts him in danger of me using one of the body dumping sites I've been investigating in the area. The question is usually asked when I'm comfortably snuggled in bed or when we are packing to head out to the beach. He'll come up to me looking slightly confused and ask "have I read this before?" Now, that question may seem harmless at first but you have to think of all the things a mother and wife has to remember and take into account my age and then you will begin to understand how annoying THE question is. Apparently, when we were saying our wedding vows, I promised to keep a running list of all novels he has read while we are together. Sneaky bastard.

This brings me to this weekend's disturbing discovery and reading of the novel Speedboat by Renata Adler. He came into the bedroom and asked THE question, which he has asked about this particular novel for about 3 summers now, and I just decided it was easier to say "no". I was pretty sure he had read the stupid thing but I figured if he can't remember he should have to read it again. He settled down and read for about 5 mintues. He declared it crap and threw it in the corner.

The next evening he was telling my son and me how bad this novel was so I had to pick it up and take a look myself. He wasn't kidding. This is perhaps the worst book ever written but it's won prizes and is considered to be some fine writing. Each paragraph starts off with a new topic and there is absolutely no connection between any of the paragraphs. Example:

Paragraph 1: The Italian bottled water heiress was sitting on her ship.

Paragraph 2: I was eating in a Greek restaurant in New York and saw a rat.

Paragraph 3: A Pinkerton man got on the elevator and told me that somebody had been molested on the the 5th floor.

Paragraph 4: Nessa got her finger caught in the cab door and had to go to the emergency room.

My dramatic reading of Speedboat sent my son and husband into fits of laughter. We could only last about a chapter and we had to give up. My husband has threatened to sell the thing at our next garage sale with the title "worst book ever written" underneath it. He says he won't let potential buyers read it before deciding. Somehow I don't think I can expect him to ask me THE question about Speedboat next year.