Friday, January 19, 2018

Or Maybe I'm Actually Funny: Fly on the Wall

Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 3 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house. At the end of my post you’ll find links to this month’s other participants’ posts.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

PurDude is in his senior year of college. He was home recently for the final winter break of his college career {{sob}}.

Many of you know of all the drama his travel day home ended up being. When he boarded his final plane home, Hubs and I headed for the airport. PurDude was 29 hours late and we'd not slept much over that trying, working to get him home. He was finally coming in, it was the night of our second day of waiting for him and we were exhausted.

Once we finally got him, we headed home. I could tell Hubs was wiped out when I had to keep telling him to switch lanes so he didn't end up on an exit ramp. But it was frustrating him too.

Me: You need to move over a lane.
Hubs: Don't be side street driver.
Me: Side street driver?
Hubs: Whatever you call them.
Me: Back seat driver?
Hubs: Yeah, but you're in the front seat.

PurDude and I giggled most of the rest of the way home. 

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

 . . . until we got just a couple of blocks from home. There was a side street ahead, followed by an intersection with a light that turned red. Hubs was stopping at the side street. About a block from the red light.

Me: What are you doing?
Hubs: Stopping. The light is red.
Me: That's a block away. Why don't you go ahead and move up to the light? 
Hubs: Oh, OK.
Me: And, just curious, does this car have a ejector seats and parachutes?
Me (whispering to PurDude): Listen, we gotta bail . . .

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

You'll be happy to hear we made it home alive. It was pretty late when we got in but PurDude saw that I had made a Peanut Butter Lover's Pie. I cut him a slice and sat with him while he ate. Hubs stood by the counter and I noticed he had his eyes closed.

Me: Are you OK?
Hubs: Yes, fine, why?
Me: Your eyes were shut. Why don't you go to bed?
Hubs: That's OK, I just slept the whole drive home.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

College Boy and I seem to have this ongoing conversation. Every once in a while, he thinks he's heard me burp.

College Boy: Nice burp, Mom.
Me: I keep telling you, I'm a girl.
College Boy: So?
Me: Girls don't burp. Everyone knows that.
College Boy: Well then you must be defective.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

Hubs: Did you know that the 23rd Purdue graduate astronaut just went into space?
PurDude: Yes, I did know that.
Me (to PurDude): I'm glad you're not going into space. I'm having enough trouble dealing with everything you do on solid ground.
PurDude: Thanks, Ma.
Me: Just sayin'. You know, in the spirit of "full disclosure" and all.

Frosted Gingerbread Bars: cinnamon, molasses and ginger flavor these bars, topped with a spiced frosting | Recipe developed by | #recipe #bake

Frosted Gingerbread Bars
Frosted Gingerbread Bars: cinnamon, molasses and ginger flavor these bars, topped with a spiced frosting | Recipe developed by | #recipe #bake

Christmas day comes and I'm excited to put a turkey into the oven. I've been prepping and making the side dishes all week. The turkey has been defrosting in the basement refrigerator for a week and I'm ready to go.

Two hours before I have to put the turkey in the oven, I ask Hubs to bring it up from downstairs. I expected to see him carrying it in 2 hands, but he comes up carrying it by the handle at the top. 

Me: Did you bring it all the way up that way? I hope it's not dripping.
Hubs: No problem, it's not leaking. It's still frozen.
Me: {{blink, blink}} No problem? A frozen turkey is the epitome of a BIG problem.

And it was semi frozen. You should have seen me scrambling for the next few hours trying to get that turkey ready for the oven.

No problem, my ass.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

So I'm up to my elbows in turkey insides and Hubs comes up the stairs.

Hubs: I've been googling what to do if your turkey doesn't defrost. It says to put it in cold water.
Me (ignoring him): Mmm, hmmm.
Hubs: For a 10# turkey it should take about a day.
Me: And for this 22# turkey? I should be able to cook it right around New Years.
Hubs: I'll be good and hungry by then.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

College Boy is going out with some friends and as he heads out the door I offer some sound parental advice:

Me: Be safe. Make good choices.
College Boy: What would be the point in that?
Me: Well, it might save your mom from a heart attack.
College Boy: No problem Mom, what you don't know can't hurt you.

 Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

I was sitting on the couch, reading blog comments when suddenly I burst out laughing. College Boy walked in and asked me what I was laughing at. I sometimes get comments where, I know they don't mean it that way, but they sort of feel like an insult. The one I was reading said "That really made me laugh. Not sure why, maybe because my blood sugar's too low. I should get something to eat." College Boy wanted to know how I was going to respond to it. I ended up saying "Or maybe I'm actually funny?"

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | | #MyGraphics

I'm cruel. I know it. It normally comes out towards the boys, you know, as payback for those teenage years.

Recently though, my mean streak came out while my poor unsuspecting husband was on the phone.

First I have to tell you that my cell phone is broken. It only works on speaker. If someone calls me when I'm in public, I just make sure there isn't an emergency, then let them know I'll call them back.

I was in the grocery store the other day when my husband called. There were people all around, a few of whom know both my husband and I:

Me: Hey, I'm on speaker and I'm in the grocery store so I need to call you back. Everything OK? Did you find that package of Depends I left for you?

It's possible I have an issue with impulse control . . .

Now click on the links below for a peek into some other homes:

Bookworm in the Kitchen 
Spatulas on Parade

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

Frosted Gingerbread Bars

1 stick butter, softened
1 stick margarine, softened
3/4 cup sugar 
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup molasses
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp ginger
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup cinnamon baking chips

2 cups powdered sugar
4 TBSP butter, softened
2 TBSP Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey or Goldschlager Cinnamon Schnapps (can substitute apple cider)
1/2 tsp cinnamon
2 - 3 TBSP apple cider

*Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spray a 8 X 11 baking dish with no-stick spray.
*Beat 1 stick of butter, the margarine, sugar, brown sugar, molasses and egg until creamy.
*Mix in flour, 2 tsp cinnamon, ginger, baking soda, cloves and salt. Mix in cinnamon chips last.
*Spread evenly into the prepared pan and bake for 30 minutes.
*Remove from oven and allow the bars to cool completely before frosting.
*Carefully at first, beat the powdered sugar with 4 TBSP butter, cinnamon flavored whiskey or schnapps (or apple cider) and the 1/2 tsp cinnamon. One TBSP at a time, beat in up to 3 TBSP apple cider until the frosting has reached a thick spreading consistency. Spread over the cooled bars.


  1. If no one else has told you this today..let me be the first. You are funny!!! You make my CRAZY days less crazy.
    You give me some really good laughter and your recipes are GREAT. Don't stop doing what you do.

  2. You my dear friend are hilarious! You STILL haven't fixed your cellphone? Love the Depends remark.

    1. Nope, turns out the cell can't be fixed and with all the huge one-time bills that just hit in the last few months, I'll be keeping this one a while.

  3. You are defective with impulse control issues. I think we are in the same club


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