Oh to laugh, cry or yell?

Still not sure if I should blow a biscuit on this one or not.  It is sorta funny.  You be the judge.

A little over a month ago, the oldest money sucker got a new cell phone that also required him to get a new phone number.  The guy at the phone store was all “Dude, this looks like an easy number to remember.  Why don’t you take this one?”  Great.  New phone acquired.  New phone number secured.  All is well with the world right?  Again, not so much.

Boy comes home yesterday and tells me he has been getting bizarre voicemails from people and equally strange texts. So he reads me a few of the texts.  Good thing the boy already has a complete vocabulary of swear words because I am sure I used at least a half dozen choice words.  You see, after finding out the general content of the messages the boy was getting, I immediately do what every person with functioning brain and a decent internet connection does:  I Google the number.   Well, if there isn’t a lovely picture of a lady wearing almost nothing and MY SONS CELL NUMBER printed delicately between her legs (probably to keep said picture a teeny bit G rated).  I almost lost my lunch.  Really?  I was on the phone to the mobility provider before you could say: “what the hell.”  I explain the horrifying situation to Mr. Personality of a Flea that his fine company gave my son a sleazy, escorts number and the number is plastered all over the internet.  Mr. Flea explains to me that the number most likely belonged to Ms. Escort previously and would I like to change the number?  Really dude?  You know how much of a pain in the ass it is to change your number and contacts TWICE in a little over a month?  The boy in no way wants to change his number again and is in the background shaking his head NO and looking at me like he might just go a bit wiggy if I make the change.  So I tell Mr. Flea we are going to wait a week and see if we can take care of it another way.  I hang up only after being completely disgusted at the guys level of customer service.  If I worked there and got that call I would have been all “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.  We certainly should have done a better job making sure the number your teenager was  given was ‘clean’ and I will report this to my manager so no other young person has to deal with this again.”  That was just a little bit of what I was looking for.  The guy did not give a shit and I was probably just interrupting his online game of Plants vs Zombies. 

I then spend the next hour sending hate, threatening emails to the escort service to remove my sons cell number from their website.  I will definitely update you all if I hear anything from the escort service (Really people: escort service? Who are we kidding here?) 

I did laugh about it the rest of the day and thanked my lucky stars the boy was older when this happened.  A friend mentioned what a complete shit show this whole thing would have been if it had happened to someone who had a jealous spouse.  Could you imagine?  Finding your husbands cell phone and seeing those messages thinking he was soliciting an escort service.  THAT my friends is law suit worthy! 

Draft of my letter to the phone company:

Dear Sirs:

Well it seems in your haste to make a quick sale you have successfully reassigned a cell number that once belonged to a disgusting, most likely disease ridden, escort named Portia to my teenager.  Way to go.  Come on people, you are not just a phone company, you also provide internet service as well.  Ever occur to you to have a gander at some of your retired numbers on line BEFORE you put them out there for re-use?  Would it hurt to check these things out?  Would it also hurt to train your customer service personnel to be a little bit sensitive and perhaps proactive?  Honestly, a ten year old could have handeled that call better. 

I decided to censor the rest of the letter at this point.  To many nasty words were spilling onto the page and, although my mom doesn’t read this, I am sure someones mom does!

Stay tuned.

All in half a day. Aka Good vs Annoying

Today it seems is turning out to be one of those days where good and annoying are vying for the most votes.  The day started with something unexpected.  I saw a young taxi cab driver get out of his cab and help an elderly lady up to her doctors appointment on the second floor of a building.  He probably lost 6 bucks worth of time doing that for her and he didn’t see to mind.  Did I mention he was young?  Little while later I was sitting in an office with an older lady and gentleman.  They did not come in together.  They did however spend over 15 minutes trying to out “ailment” each other.  It was amusing at the start.  “Ya, well I have arthritis.  Do you?” They discussed the pills they were taking, the various parts that hurt and who had the next doctors appointment (Gentleman Jim won, his appointment was today.  Her appointment was way later.  Tomorrow.  Made me promise myself that I would never be that woman, although I have had a few conversations as of late with girlfriends about the slow decline of our bodies.)  The whole time the Ailment Fest was going on there was a young child screaming in the back of the office at the top of his lungs.  He was so hysterical that apparently the entire office staff of four needed to restrain him.  Fun.  So after they finished torturing the poor child the staff returns to the front and l, who I might add walked in and grabbed a little number from the “Take A Number” dispenser well before the elderly people arrived, get line jumped by Gentleman Jim!  What the heck dude?  Why do you need to jump the line?  Got a job to get back to?  Seriously!  Normally I am pretty patient but I was starting to lose my mind with all the kid screaming and the elderly complaining.  Held my tongue.  Even after being helped by a Snook-a-like in a nurses uniform who had the personality of a stick!

As I leave the office, a woman walks up to me and asks if I know where the washroom is.  I tell her and she turns and walks away.  Huh.  Manners?  So I called back a friendly “your welcome”.  Come on people.  I know you can do better. 

So far annoying is winning and it’s not even noon!

Perhaps We Are To Hard On Our Teenagers?

A friend recently sent me a link to a video of a dad shooting the laptop of his ungrateful little brat of a teenage daughter (yes, he shot the thing with a gun!).  Apparently her life was so hard she decided to share this with the entire world through social media and in the same breath completely trash her parents.   So her dad answered back.  Through social media.  After watching and listening to this dad I muttered “Every ungrateful teenager needs to see that.”  They also need to hustle their asses down to an inner city neighbourhood and/or a third world country to get an idea how bad they really have it.  Imagine the nerve of parents nowadays asking kids to make their beds and help unload the dishwasher?  Don’t those parents know that these are very stressful times for teenagers?  Why, they have to go to school for almost six whole hours a day, five whole days a week! (unless of course there is another one of those special pro-d day things, in that case it’s a whole four days.)   How can we expect them to do anything other than come home from school and sit in front of the tv or xbox until they get called for dinner and then back to the tv until 11:30 pm or so when they decide it’s time to go to bed?  I feel bad for teenagers.  They are also, it seems, expected to graduate from high school!  Holy Hannah! Isn’t that enough?  Why, I wonder, do we as parents expect any more of them with all the pressures they have of this impending graduation?  What? We also wouldn’t mind if they cleaned their room and cleaned up behind themselves?  Seriously.  Isn’t that asking too much? 

I’m not sure about you all, but I know when I was a teenager it was much easier.  My generation only had to graduate, have part time jobs (only if you actually wanted money), AND …… wait for it: we had chores.  I know this is a bizarre concept but we were actually required to help out around the house.  DAILY.  Not once and a while.  Not when it was convenient for us.  Not only after we had a two hour gaming session.  No.  We did them when we were told and we did them often.  Kinda makes sense looking back now.  I mean we did live there.  Why wouldn’t we help out in the upkeep of the home we lived in.  I also don’t recall my mother handing over any money so I could go to a movie (or buy a car for that matter) and she never spent $100.00 a month on a cell phone plan so I knew my friends social statuses or what celebrities were having for breakfast.

The best part?  When the dumb asses get on social media complaining about how mean their parents are and how they hate living with their parents and how incredibly hard done by they are.  I only wish they would also list why they hate living in such a bad place.  Is it because their dad beats them?  No.  Is it because they are neglected and have three younger siblings to care for?  No.  Is it because their mom is a heroin addict who can’t keep food in the house?  No. No. No.  It’s because they: have to pick up after themselves, help out around the house, at least pass their classes in school, be polite to others, make their bed and other seriously damaging, life altering demands.  (All the while they want laptops, Iphones (with monthly plans no less), expensive sport camps and equipment, to have no curfew, be able to go where ever and do what ever they want and have money given to them for their entertainment.)

So looking forward to the next generation of workers.  How many of them are going to have a conflict with their managers, stamp their feet and walk out of the workplace proclaiming "This isn't fair!" and then promptly Twitter the world of the incredible injustice they have just experienced (Only after getting in the car that Mommy and Daddy bought, insured and put gas in for them.)

Oh dear.  It's not lookin good.

What Else Would I Be Doing With My Time?

Yes, I have been off the grid again.  Want to know why?  Well it seems that some kind of Karma train came through and whatever I did wrong in grade four is now coming back to rear its ugly head.  Instead of punishing you with all the details of my last couple of weeks, I instead send you the rant/draft letter that has been hammering around in the Neuron Holder.

Dear Ministry of Education,

Thank you so much for the opportunity to complete a grade four science project again.  What a thrilling learning experience!  I am not sure, however if the intended result is turning out to be as you expected.  You see, when the brilliant genius in your office somewhere decided that grade four was a good year to do a science project/experiment, I am just guessing that the idiot did not have kids.  Last time I checked nine and ten year olds do not have jobs with which to buy the supplies, cars to get them to the six different stores required to obtain these supplies and in most cases access to the various sites needed to do the required research for said science project - like the library or the internet, therefore nullifying the “independent learning” that you wish to instill.  I would also like to thank the window licker whose idea this was to have no class time allotted for this project work.  What a fabulous idea if I have ever heard one!  Let’s see what todays parents are really made of because I am sure they only have one child and sit around all day wondering how they can supplement their child’s education anxiously awaiting the arrival of the school age child with their homework teeming with enthusiasm and time.  I am sure the majority of parents don’t have jobs they need to attend, other children (some of who may have activities outside school hours - what? You mean like sports?), meals to prepare etc.  They must surely have hired help if they do work full time, right?  Well, I have been struggling to find time to complete this science project in the time the kid has been given and I am not sure my boss would appreciate me bringing it to work.  I would gladly welcome the Asshat who made this decision into my home so he can see how much of a wonderful learning experience this is for the nine year old and let him make the decision as to which is more important: the homework that was assigned for the day or the science project?  Maybe he (yes, he, I said it) needs to live in an average house today to see how busy we are now as compared to the sixties when this project decision was obviously made.   How about waiting until they are a bit older and can actually do a project like this independently?  Essentially, you just assigned the entire population of grade four parents a project to do and here I thought I had put grade four behind me!  I am pretty sure it is time for the Ministry to have a look at the world today and the curriculum and outcomes we are using.  This generation of young people may know how to tell the world where they are having lunch and who they are currently dating, but seriously – get one of them to string a few sentences together that make sense and don’t have any spelling errors, that is the true indication of how current education is today.  Let me tell ya they ain't gettin any smarta.

Yours truly,

Mother Who Already Passed Grade Four, Thank you very much.

The Very Expensive Lesson aka Why You Should Listen To Your Momma

So I am sure there are things your mother told you as you were growing up that you just kinda shrugged your shoulders and made the “duhhh” face.  The “hello lady, I already know that.  Clearly that’s common sense.”  Right?  You know it.  One of those little lessons from my mom was never, and I mean never, use your teeth to perform tasks that require brute strength.  Like opening a jar or cracking a walnut.  Understandably this lesson came straight from the woman who struggled to afford to ship me to the orthodontist for braces as a teenager.  Got it mom.  It’s in the bank.  I won’t forget. 

Well um, yesterday, I did forget and I am NOT calling my mom to hear: “I told you so” or to hear the horror in her voice.   I have beaten myself up enough about it (not to mention getting a little slap from my dentist!).  This is now yours.  Laugh at me as you will.

To start off this little adventure to Stupidville, let me head it up by explaining that a neck guard is a piece of hockey equipment that is used to protect a hockey players neck in the event of a blade, stick or puck coming near that area.  Our children are required to wear them if they play hockey.  So keep in mind my attention to this piece of equipment could not be put off or ignored. 

The youngest money sucking hockey player in our home had a game last night, far, far away (ok, it was an hour and a half drive one way – which is just plain ridiculous, anyway….) so upon realizing that his neck guard was still in need of repair and no time to buy a new one I decided to pull out my Susie Homemaker skills and sew the sucker up.  I can hear you gasp.  I know.  I don’t sew (or iron but that’s another story).  I did try to fix said neck guard with my tried and true method of all repairs - Glue.  It didn’t work.  Should be easy.  I just have to sew this little square piece of Velcro back onto the neck guard.  Few stitches here, few stitches there.  Easy, peasy.  Well crap.  Do you think the needle would penetrate through the gazillion layers of fabric and Velcro?  Notta!  I had to use all my strength and a hard surface to drive the needle through.  So after doing this a few times the top of the needle bends and won’t go through the fabric at all.  Yes, this is the point in the story where I completely lost my mind.  I have no idea what I was thinking.  How could my teeth actually be stronger than all my upper body strength?  I could almost hear my mother bitching at me as I tried to pull the needle out with my front tooth and yes, you know it.  I chipped the damn thing (tooth not needle)!  Gads.  It was the tinest little pin chip but I could feel it and to me it felt like I had a spittin out the chew, redneck size crater in my front tooth.  It was all I could do not to cry.  Pretty sure the girl at the dentist office thought I had cracked the entire tooth because she got me in right away.  The kind dentist fixed me up, only after giving me shit about it, and sent me on my way.  I am positive they talked about “the stupid chick who chipped her tooth trying to sew a piece of hockey equipment” all day. 

So loooong story really short: The neck guard repair cost me $145.00.  A new neck guard?  Probably $20.00. 

Always listen to your mother (just none of you tell mine I said that).

Just Can't Find Good Staff These Days



 He considers this his most important job of the day.  I don't think he is fooling anyone!