Say Hello To My Little Friend – The Sequel

posted by Momo Fali on July 22, 2008

A few weeks ago I introduced you to Bruiser. This is Bruiser’s friend Betty. But, Betty is not a pimple, nor is Betty a belly-button, even though she closely resembles one. She resides smack-dab in the middle of my chest and is about the size of a dime. Please ignore the sun spots, they’re trying to steal Betty’s thunder.

Betty is a scar. Just over a year ago, I found a very tiny bump. A bump so small, it was barely noticeable. Of course, to me it seemed quite large…and hideous. Bad enough to go see a dermatologist who, in 10 seconds flat, shaved that bump right off.

But, the scar that was left was far worse than the original bump, so I went back. To the same dermatologist. I’m smart like that.

I told her to cut the scar tissue out and stitch up the wound so my scar would be linear. Years ago I had plastic surgery on my face for a crater of a chicken pox scar, using that same procedure, and it worked like a charm.

Only, I’m not 21 anymore and my wounds don’t heal like they did way back then. What was supposed to be a linear scar, not only still resembles the original mark left from the shaving, but there are more, little scars from the stitches.

What once was a little bump, is now so bad that I can’t wear half the shirts in my closet. Well, I can, but people’s eyes gravitate directly to Betty. She transfixes people like a laser beam.

I think Betty resembles a cigarette burn, while my husband thinks she’s more of a newborn butthole. Either way I win, don’t you think?
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Wake Up Sleepyhead, PLEASE Get Out Of Bed

posted by Momo Fali on July 20, 2008

I hear a lot of parents say it’s a problem to get their kids in bed, and to keep them there during the night.

As a matter of fact, my nine year old daughter was a perfect example of this. She slept with us for roughly eight months as an infant, and once she moved to her own room it certainly didn’t stop her from reappearing in ours…all the time.

I think half of my insomnia issues come from her dark figure hovering silently over me as I slept. There isn’t much that startles you more than waking from a deep sleep to see someone’s shadowy outline two inches above your face. Because her nightly visits scared the poo out of me, I simply chose to stay awake all night.

But, our son? Well, he’s always a different story. We can’t get him out of bed. AT ALL. He knows he’s allowed, and as a matter of fact we’ve bribed him to do it. But, he won’t. I’m not just talking about middle-of-the-night-need-to-go-to-the-bathroom stuff either, he won’t even budge once the sun comes up.

Instead, he will lie in bed and read or play. If he has to go to the bathroom, he will call me. In the morning, I yell upstairs for him to come down. It is only then that he will emerge from his lair.

I would like nothing better than for him to get out of bed and go downstairs to watch cartoons with his sister, while I get to sleep in on a Saturday morning. Who has to beg their six year old to watch Tom and Jerry and eat sugary cereal when Mom’s not around? I do.

We have taken away computer games, TV, and the Wii, but it’s still not working. The other day, he spent all his free time playing with my laundry basket.

Tonight he doesn’t get to take books or toys with him to bed, which means he won’t have anything to play with when he wakes up.

Though with my luck, he’ll probably be just as happy talking to the wall…and since he’s making me looney I might just join him.

Boys and girls, please tell me…what do your kids do that makes you crazy?

What’s In A Name?

posted by Momo Fali on July 18, 2008

Kathy from The Junk Drawer sent me this picture. She and her husband saw my name carved into a bench at a local burger joint. I told her it’s probably not the first time someone saw a ratty old bench and thought of me…or maybe that’s ratty old wench I’m thinking of.

Believe it or not, I have a real name. It’s Diane. Not many people call me that though. My BFF came up with Momo, and my entire family calls me Di.

When I was a kid, I was known as Di-Bi. My cousins and I all had goofy nicknames. Bill-Bud, Joni-Bologna, and Jo-Blo to name a few. My cousin Derek was known simply as Oil.

In elementary school, all my friends decided to create nicknames pulled from outer space. There was Jupiter Jenny, Saturn Stacey, and Mercury Mary. Since there are no planets that start with “D”, I got stuck with Dog Star Diane. Nice.

A little girl who lived behind my Grandmother’s house, who hated to bathe, became Susie-Piggy. My Mom goes by VoVo, my daughter is known as Goose, my son answers to Boo and my BFF is Bean. My husband’s friends call him Bugs and said friends are known to us as Briar, Grunt, Gat, and Panda.

Everybody has a nickname. So tell me, boys and girls, what is yours?

Adding Insult To Injury

posted by Momo Fali on July 16, 2008

It’s no secret that I am not a good cook. Because the past week has been pretty crazy around here, I haven’t made it to the grocery store…which means I’ve had to get creative at mealtime. I like to call it hodge-podge cooking. I pull together whatever I can to make a nutritious, and usually bland, plate of food.

Yesterday after the funeral, a local church provided lunch for us. When we were finished, the ladies who had prepared the meal tried to insist that my Mom take all the leftovers home.

My Mom replied, “No, it’s just me at home. Take it to a shelter or retirement home, because I don’t need all this food”.

Then my nine year old piped up from across the table and said, “Take it and give it to us! This is the most decent lunch I’ve had in a long time!”