Smoke much? No, he must be lying.

A disgusting little garden

Evil Mary’s disgusting little garden

Tim* was a smoker. Tim was unhappily married to the first woman who agreed to have sex with him, mainly because she fell pregnant.  Tim was not a very lucky man, most probably because he accidently kicked that midget during soccer practise.  In his defence, the little man was lying on the field at the time.  It wasn’t Suzie’s* first horizontal Tango but she felt sorry for the 22 year old virgin, was drunk at the time and needed a place to stay.  Even though Suzie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, she manage to retain every single pound of fat she had before she fell pregnant.  Now she only had an excuse to look like someone who ate a small country. Continue reading

Parents who shouldn’t be parents

Every blogger has written at least one of them. A post where you’re actually igniting a fuse to a stack of 100 ton TNT.  Like this one.  And instead of trying to put out the spark, I’m just gonna sit and prepare myself for the aftermath of this explosion.  Waiting for the proverbial um… manure to hit the proverbial um… fan.

For there are just some people who are not meant to be parents.  And it’s time someone told them.  Continue reading

Mom knows everything.

I have a secret.  Nothing serious, but a secret nonetheless.  Something I am not very proud of, something I hope my kids would never, ever try or do themselves.

I used to smoke…in high school…when I was 17 years young.  I know it’s disgusting, cancerous and just plain bad.  Hence the secret.  I took my first pull from a cigarette in grade 11.  Every so often we would huff and puff and cough violently; feeling very cool and grown-up like.  Looking back…stupid child.  I am living proof that youth is wasted on the young.

The reason why it was such a big secret; was due to the fact that I was a relatively well behaved teenager.  I was part of a great group of friends, and we mostly stuck to the expectations of our parents.  We did however “enjoy” the odd cigaret and the odd beer, it was the extent of our rebellion.

My parents never saw me trying to smoke, because if they did, I probably would have been grounded until yesterday.  In my final year mom found a box of cigarettes in my cupboard.  I was quick to explain that it belonged to a friend and the friend was too scared to keep it in his house and therefore I offered it for safekeeping.  Mom wasn’t impressed with the friend.

Another time we were taking a puff behind the house on my birthday and she came around the corner.  We disposed of the buds very swiflty, it looked like fireflies twirling in the night sky.  Again she said nothing, just mentioning the food was ready. We all breathed a sigh of relief and promised each other to be more careful.

I kept thinking that I was the coolest kid south of the Equator having outsmarted the woman who gave birth to me.  I felt very distinguished being able to hide this secret from my parents.

In any case I left for college and Mom gave me a box filled with needful things.  When my parents left, I opened my gift.  It was filled with joy in the form of sweets, cookies, cash and a few other nice-to-haves.  I unloaded my treasure chest eagerly.

But there was one thing I didn’t expect right at the bottom of the box…

An ashtray.

She knew, like all moms do. (Don’t know why my parents never said anything, not gonna ask now!)

I don’t know how mothers do it, maybe intuition evolves into a super power when woman give birth, or maybe there is a secret society that spy on men and children  (I have suspected stork tea’s for a long time now, and don’t even get me started on book clubs).  But the warning is crystal clear:

You can’t run, you can never hide and lying is just prolonged pain because Mothers know EVERYTHING!

It’s creepy but true.