Archive for the ‘Guest Post’ Category

Melts in Your Mouth…Oh God Nooooo!

Wednesday, January 18th, 2012

After reading my last post about the “Cradle Crap” my friend Irene (Smith) wrote to me about the time her ultra clean German mom found a stray M & M in the living room. I thought her tale was so funny I wanted her to have the guest post spotlight, so enjoy a bit of Madness, German style! Here you go:

I remember my Mom and her ladyfriends talking about cradle cap when I was little. I was so grossed out. My brother is eight years younger than I and I quickly learned babies are precious, beautiful, funny and sometimes very gross. One day my mother and I were watching TV on the leather couch in our living room with my one and a half year old brother in Mom’s lap. Watching TV with my Mom was so much fun. It was the sixties. So TV, 500 Rummy, Barbie and Etch a Sketch were huge for me.

After Mom had fed, changed and put baby brother to sleep, she was straightening up the living room. Mom was born in Germany. She was so much fun and the cleanest person I have ever known. A speck of dust had no chance of surviving her daily cleaning routine, which was top to bottom, every single day. Her motto was you don’t wait for the house to be dirty to clean it, you clean it every day so it will never be dirty.

So baby brother is asleep, Mom is straightening up the living room; a stray piece of popcorn here, an M&M there, and she picks up the M&M and casually pops it in her mouth. She immediately spits it in her hand and with a grossed out look on her face says “Mein Gott (OMG with the accent), its a sh!tball!” Diapers back then left a lot to be desired as far as gaps go, and it seems my baby brother occasionally produced an abundance of small balls of what he would later call “dookie.” (Well he still calls it dookie and he’ll be 48 this April!) I guess one of us sat on a stray M&M flattening it on the leather couch, but it really did look exactly like a brown M&M!

How my father loved hearing that story upon his return from work. He was fun too, and seized any opportunity to tease her. Forevermore, when my Mom’s continuous cleaning got on his nerves (this included his precious Sunday NY Times being completely folded, put back together, with pen put back in its place by my Mom, in the time it took Dad to pour a cup of coffee or run to the bathroom), whenever she complained about him being messy (again, messy could mean you were having a snack and did not sweep the crumbs off the table every 10 seconds), he would say “Oh calm down, you ate a sh!tball!!”

Irene & her family

Thanks for the laugh Irene – I can practically hear your mother’s accent!
~ Me

So, pop an M & M or a handful (just make certain they are the real things) and head back to the home of MADNESS HERE.

Little Miss Sunshine

Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

“You know what? F*ck beauty contests. Life is one f*cking beauty contest after another. School, then college, then work… F*ck that. And f*ck the Air Force Academy. If I want to fly, I’ll find a way to fly. You do what you love, and f*ck the rest.”
~ Dwayne, Little Miss Sunshine

I know you’ll enjoy this guest post from the multi-talented Barbara Hammond of  Zero to 60 and Beyond. So andiamo – andiamo!

My mother-in-law was truly an innocent.  She put the “P” in Prude!  It used to make me laugh when she would spell D-A-R-N in front of my kids, which  I think she did until they were in high school.   So you can imagine my surprise as we were leisurely having our morning coffee at the kitchen table one day, and out of the blue she blurted out, “You know, I always thought f*ck was an Italian word when I was growing-up, because it was only the Italian kids in the neighborhood that would write it on the sidewalk.”

(ITALIAN LESSON:  Mother-in-law =  Suocera)

Spit take… um, “Well mom, when did you discover it wasn’t Italian?” 

“After dad and I had been married for a while I asked him about it — he was shocked when I asked and said, ‘For crying out loud, we’ve been doing it for 3 months and you didn’t even know what we were doing?!’”

Then, she turned to me and asked,  “Would you like some coffee cake dear?”

I was thinking, maybe after I change my underwear, because I think I just peed my pants!

Those silly guidos

F*CK IT! Just head back to the home of MADNESS! www.MadnessMomandMe.com

Mother in Cream Resplendent (guest post)

Monday, April 19th, 2010

Numero Uno in a series of guest posts authored by those willing to share snippets of their own madness.  Enjoy!(ITALIAN LESSON: Guest of honor = ospite d’onore)
 Reddi Whip Retro

I had a humble upbringing. I wouldn’t say we were poor, even though dinner often consisted of one vegetable, usually beans, and a slice of buttered white bread, the kind that never seemed to go stale. But if the Middle Class were a train, my family would have been clinging for dear life off the back of the caboose.

All this is by way of introduction to what my mother did, so many years ago, on a rare occasion when we actually had dessert. A neighbor, who was several train cars ahead of us in the economy, dropped off a freshly baked pumpkin pie and a can of some new-fangled cream in a can called Reddi Wip.

Mom wanted the pie to last a while, so she cut out one-inch slivers for each of us and handed the can of Reddi Wip to my father, who shook the can furiously for several minutes before sputtering foamy cream all over his slice until it disappeared. My brother did likewise, followed by me and my sister. Finally, the can was passed to my Mom, who dutifully upended it and pressed the nozzle, only to hear not a cream-filled sputter, but an airy Pffft.

The can was empty.

At first I thought she was going to scream. Then I thought she was going to cry, her expressions changing by the second. Finally, a look of calm determination came across her face. She slowly pushed back her chair and went to the kitchen doorway, where we had a wall-mounted can opener. She upended the can, inserted it into the can opener, pressed down on the lever, and started to give the crank a turn.

And the rest is history.

I’ve seen a lot of I Love Lucy shows and know how wonderful Lucille Ball was at “comedy takes,” but I think for one brief moment my mother was her equal as she stood there, covered from chest to forehead in whipped cream.

Len Boswell

About our guest author: Len Boswell was born in a hospital that has since been torn down, and grew up in a house that has since changed its number, on a street that has since changed its name. Everywhere around him his life seems to be erasing itself. Before the erasure is complete, he spends his time on both sides of the publishing equation, managing a small press by day and writing whenever possible. He is still wary of Reddi Wip.

Pfffft! Read more and head on back to Madness home page: www.madnessmomandme.com