Mommy Tattoos

30 01 2012

This way you'll never forget your kid's birthday

The latest in oxymorons? Mommy tattoos. It used to be the only time the words “mommy” and “tattoo” ended up in a sentence together is when a rebellious teenager would tell her friends, “Mommy’s head just about exploded when she saw my new tattoo of Todd’s penis,” only to be outclassed by the follow-up comment: “I don’t know why she’s so tweaked. It’s not like everyone will see it since it’s on my inner thigh pointing to my…”

Anyway, you get the idea.

But now the new trend for cool moms is to don permanent body ink that expresses how much they love their children. Read the rest of this entry »





Some Days It’s Good To Be a MANIAC

24 01 2012

Me at the end of my rope...literally

Now that my boys are getting older and (sort of) independent I have more time to myself, which means I can do things like go to the grocery store without having to use the shopping cart with the bulky kiddie car attached to the front. (I swear it’s like trying to navigate a Winnebago on Maui’s Road to Hana to get that thing around a display of spaghetti sauce without it ending up a free-flowing red river of marinara meandering down aisle three.)

It also means that when I’m out I can pay attention to what’s going on around me, because now I’m not constantly looking for a child who has either gone missing or is (hopefully not) the cause of a big scary crash in Williams Sonoma. (Don’t even ask me what I was doing in a Williams Sonoma with little kids.) Read the rest of this entry »





What is the Best Legal (Chicken) Tender?

16 01 2012

Last night everyone in my family each had somewhere else they had to be, which left me all alone to fend for myself. This is like winning the lottery and getting to eat an entire Costco-size bag of Lays potato chips without gaining an ounce all rolled into one.

Thrilled that I didn’t have to cook I called in Asian take-out at a place I hardly ever frequent. When I went to pick up my order, I walked up to the counter, gave my name, and a young girl handed me a bag.

“Thirteen sixty-two,” she said watching me fish my checkbook out of my purse.

As I started to write a check to pay for the food, I asked her how to spell the name of the establishment. She enunciated each letter as she watched me write. I then asked her to repeat the total amount once more, as I’m pretty brain-dead by dinnertime.

“Thirteen sixty-two,” she offered again without any affect.

I finished writing, ripped the check out of my checkbook, handed it to her, at which time she looks at it like it has lice and says to me with all the sincerity of a saint, “Oh, I’m sorry we don’t take checks.” Read the rest of this entry »





The Pitfalls of Publicity

9 01 2012

Being a comedian with a book to plug I’m frequently asked to be on radio and TV talk shows as a guest, usually when a much bigger and high profile guest cancels at the last minute. (Thank you, Tina Fey! I sincerely hope it wasn’t that cheesecake-by-mail I sent you that jumpstarted your stomach woes right before you were scheduled to be on Good Morning, Dubuque!)

So I wasn’t surprised when I got a call last week from someone requesting me to be a guest on a lifestyle show for Sirius XM satellite radio. The guy said his name was Jerron, and that he got my name from RTIR (Radio and TV Interview Report, a magazine producers use to find guests for talk shows). He said he produced a show called Straight Talk, hosted by Carol and Andrea (no last names). They wanted me on the next morning to talk about “how to keep the zest in your marriage after having a baby,” which is something I joke about in both my stand-up and my book.

Oh geez, tomorrow? That’s kind of last minute, I thought, but I assumed it was because someone like Angelina Jolie had unexpectedly cancelled due to her need to run off to Ubon Ratchathani to adopt another baby. Read the rest of this entry »





The Dymalski Family Disclosure

4 01 2012

In just a few weeks the school year will officially be half over. That means a semester change, which means my junior high and high school sons will be bringing home more of those ridiculous disclosure statements (a.k.a. behavior contracts) teachers now make students and parents sign at the onset of new classes. Yeah, yeah, I know teachers do it because they’re sick of hearing parents whine when their darling little Einsteins get Fs for not turning in homework, even though on day one each teacher explains how easy it is to get an ‘A’ in their class in such detail that even a mentally disabled Chihuahua could score above ninety percent. I get it.

However, that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Read the rest of this entry »








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