Oct 29, 2007

It's not exactly that I can't place the face

This past Saturday, the boys and I marched in the semi-famous Hollidaysburg Halloween parade with the group from the Library. One of the Library ladies was dressed as a faceless ghoul, similar to the image below (but without the sickle).

Mrs. Ghoul introduced me to her husband, Mr. Ghoul, who wore a matching costume, also faceless.

"Actually, we've met before," he said, gesturing to Ethan. "I was an assistant coach on one of Ethan's Pee Wee teams."

Pee Wee was a long time ago, so it would have been hard enough to remember this man, but on top of that, I had no face to go by (due to his costume). So I took his word for it.

After we chatted for a few minutes, Mr. Ghoul ambled over to Ethan.

Ethan looked up.

I guess you had to be there, but it was pretty comical when Mr. Ghoul said (forgetting that he had no face): "You don't remember me, do you?"

Ya Ghoul! I mean, Ya Goof!

Oct 27, 2007

Emmett loses his shoes to the Man

Here is Hippie (Emmett) being menaced by Tiger (Emmett's buddy Michael) before they go out to trick or treat. Notice Hippie's guitar case. That's where the treats go!

Also notice Hippie's shoes. Dad's pricey dress shoes! Hippie, Ya Goof! Wrong look! Bad Hippie! (Hippie changed footgear.)

Aftermath: The guitar case filled up nicely.

And the facial hair washed off!

Happy Halloween!

P.S. Note that I'm posting this on October 27. Halloween hasn't come yet, but in our area, Trick-or-Treat Night has. It happens by town decree on the preceding Thursday. I never realized until moving here that you could tamper with holidays!

Juice on the loose

This week, Ethan and Emmett both took part in an all-day music workshop at at Roosevelt Junior High School. All students were to dress in black and white, and the boys left the house in the morning with their clothes and shoes carefully packed away.

Well, in Ethan's case, not so carefully. He filled an empty soda bottle with orange juice and threw that in, too.

Not far into the morning, he found out that the juice found its way out of the bottle. He called me at work to let me know I'd need to bring him another set of clothes. I'd been planning to work late and drive straight to Roosevelt. Instead, I had to leave work a little early, drive home and backtrack fifteen minutes.

Here's your shirt read to go into the wash, Ethan (Ya Goof):

Oct 24, 2007

I know why your drawer won't balance tonight

I stopped at Dollar Tree this evening for some poster board (3 for a buck!) and owed $1.06.

It was a small pleasure to find a dime and a penny in my pocket to hand over along with the George in my wallet.

The clerk (let's call her Missy ... yeah, Little Miss MISS-y) handed me my receipt.

But no nickel.

In that situation, even a cheap ________ like I am doesn't say, "I gave you $1.11." Not that I didn't require a tick of time to check my natural reflex to do so before I went on my way.

Here's another small pleasure: Missy, Ya Goof!

Oct 21, 2007

Take your pills ... aboard

A friend who I'll call G. (because I don't want to identify him, okayyyy?) mentioned the other day that he recently flew to Japan. He took care to put his blood pressure medicine inside his briefcase so it would be handy during the flight.

But he forgot the briefcase.

G, Ya Goof!

Oct 20, 2007

Put down the scissors and nobody gets hurt

It's okay if you didn't know that the tag on a mattress or pillow is also called a law label.

But if you think that means that it's against the law to remove it from a purchase, I have to say: Ya Goof!

Proof? Here.

A signature mistake

You hardcore baseball collectors know this already. I only learned it recently:

Don't offer a player a Sharpie for an autograph on a baseball. A Sharpie signature will bleed into the baseball. The weapon of choice is a blue ballpoint pen. Not black ballpoint, because that could be mistaken for a printed-on signature. So if you bring a Sharpie to the baseball stadium, I have to say: Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

I've committed all of these at work recently:

520. Accidentally ruin the settings on your ergonomic desk chair.
519. Forget to put your lunch away in the refrigerator. Yuck! room-temperature yogurt.
518. Answer the telephone wearing a headset receiver but fail to hit the headset button--so you sound like you're speaking into the telephone from across the room.

Plus this one that I've committed before but not lately:

517. Answer the telephone only to find that it was ringing only in a television program.

The bald facts

A story from my baby sister Kimberly about her older son Tyler (with a mention of her husband Herman):

A couple of months ago, Tyler wanted me to pick up a "buzzer" at Walmart so he could start cutting his own hair. Tyler's too cheap to spend $$ on going to a salon to get his haircut, although we were still paying. In his opinion it was a big waste. Can you see where this is going?

He used it the first time, and I was there to supervise. All was good. I trimmed up the back for him, did the sideburns. Maybe he was right ... maybe this was a good idea.

It had only been about a month, and he wanted to cut his hair again. I told him that his hair was fine, it didn't need to be cut yet. Herm and I were watching the news in the living room and in comes Tyler.

"Mom?" He turns around then facing away from me. "Does the back of my hair look okay?"

What he had done was, he buzzed his hair to its normal length, taken the guard off to trim his sideburns, thought the back could use another "go over" with the buzzer and--OOPS!--forgot to put the guard back on!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was this two inch bald strip from the top of his head to the bottom of his neck. Needless to say, I now have a 16-year-old son WHO looks like he just joined the Marines.

By the way, I'm not writing what I said after he showed it to me. I will say, I did rub in the fact that I had said his hair was fine to begin with. I can laugh now though.

Then Kimberly adds this comment directed to our big sister Tina, referring to our niece Bethany's wedding next summer:

Don't worry Tina, Tyler will not be getting near any buzzers anytime near Bethany's wedding.

And may I add ... Tyler, Ya Goof!

Oct 17, 2007

One thing about your ring ...

I owe a deep debt of gratitude to my friend and co-worker Tammy for showing me just how filthy and disgusting I really am.

Or was. On one of my digits.

It started with this email that she sent this morning:

Jewelry Cleaning Offered for a Limited Time!!

I brought my jewelry cleaner in today… isn't that exciting! So today and today only I'm offering a free ring cleaning service to my Pigger family. If you want your rings cleaned, drop them off (around lunch time) and I'll clean them for you. Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. Check out the sparkling rings on Bridget, Jenn, Lisa and Doug.

I wandered over to Tammy's desk. She held out her palm, but I held my ring hand out of view.

"I'm not sure I can go through with it," I said. "I've only ever taken my ring off once in the seventeen years I've been married." That was a for a photo shoot at work when I possessed the only pair of hands available but I couldn't wear a distracting ring.

"You won't believe the difference," Tammy said. "You should have seen Steve's* ring before and after. People don't realize that gold tarnishes just like other metals." She motioned for my ring again. "Fork it over."

I did.

And woman, was she right! She below for a picture of the grime she pulled off my ring.

Now I'm spreading the gospel. To everyone out there wearing junked-up jewelry (a.k.a, guys), if you have a chance to get it cleaned ... don't hesitate, Ya Goof!

* His real name