Five Things My Mother Used to Say (That I Really Didn’t Get at the Time) – Guest Post by Kassandra Lamb

Today I’m tickled to let Kassandra Lamb hijack my blog. Partly because I’m always happy when someone wants to do the work of blogging for me, but mostly because she’s cool and clever and a really great writer.  

Since she knows I’m in the thick of All Things Motherhood, she’s talking about things her mom used to tell her that never made sense through the eyes of a kid. Now that she’s all grown up, though, she gets it. Do you have memories like that? My mom used to always say (usually in reference to Tom Selek), “That man could eat crackers in my bed.” I never got it until I was a teenager…and then I was all like, “Ewwwww….”

Anyway, here’s Kassandra. You’re going to love her. Promise.

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My mama was the queen of one-line comments on life: ours, hers or some commentary on human existence in general. When I was a kid, I only got what she meant about half the time. Here are a few of my favorites (in the order in which I “got” them).

How ya fixed for spit?  Wha? I just asked for a cookie and she’s talkin’ bout spit? Hope she doesn’t spit on my cookie.

Somewhere around seven, I got it that she was annoyed with little ole whiny, demanding me.

Edelrose_0413 by Leander Schiefer CC BY SA 3pt0 wikiJune roses bloom longer. I was the very, very last girl in my junior high school to develop. I would try to climb into my locker when changing for gym class because I was the only one still wearing an undershirt instead of a training bra (I always wondered exactly how they were supposed to be training one’s boobies… ‘Stand up straight there, soldier!’ ‘Yes, Sir!’)

I was devastated by the good Lord’s lack of generosity in the bosom department, and my mother’s giving me gardening advice?

Fast-forward to my high school five-year reunion. Most of the girls who were voluptuous in seventh grade are now at least a tad overweight, and I am still my naturally thin self. And I could eat just about anything and stay that way. Ah, gotcha, Ma!

Don’t marry the man you think you can live with, marry the one you can’t imagine living without. I was a junior in high school when I had my first serious relationship. I’d had a couple puppy-love ones before that, but this was the real thing (actually it wasn’t, but I thought it was at the time).

I come home from our third date and I’m picking out color schemes for my wedding. Then my mother lays this line on me. What? I’m supposed to live with the guy after I marry him, as in whisker-hairs-in-the-bathroom-sink-smelly-socks-on-the-floor live with him? I hadn’t really thought that far ahead!

US_Navy_070420-N-3321R-004_Sailors_motorcyclists_Oak_Harbor pub domain wiki

Bring on them bad boys! But live with them? Hmm, let me give that some thought.

Seven years later, I’m dating a man who doesn’t make my stomach do somersaults like the bad-boy boyfriends of my past (I’d finally realized that was fear, not love), but he does make me feel loved and secure. Yeah, Ma, got that one!

I’m busier than a one-armed paper hanger. Okay, I still don’t really get this one. But I know now why she chortled every time she said it.

When I was in my early thirties, I interviewed my mother about her childhood as an assignment for a grad school class. I found out some things about my grandfather, who had died before I was born. He was a sweet man and my mother adored him, but he couldn’t hold a job or keep a business going to save his life. This caused her parents to fight a lot, and eventually separate.

The best years of her childhood were the five or so when he did manage to earn a consistent living. During that time, he was a house painter and paper hanger! And that was his favorite one-liner.

I’m so busy in retirement, I don’t know how I ever had time to work. Ma certainly didn’t coin this phrase. I’d heard it before she retired and many times since. I really thought she was exaggerating, until I’d been retired for a couple years myself. There are so many interesting things to do when you no longer have to earn a living, it really is easy to get too busy.

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Embroidered by my mother; one of the many things she got into as a retiree.

And then I got bit by the writing bug, and now I am truly the busiest I have ever been in my life!

How about you? What pearls of wisdom did your mother throw before swine because you were too young to get it?

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Ohmygosh, I can’t wait to read the comments in this post! 

Hey, and Kass has a new book out. It’s the FIFTH in her mystery series. Check out this blurb:

When a former client reveals a foreign diplomat’s dark past to psychotherapist Kate Huntington, she and her family and friends are sucked into a vortex of international intrigue. Forced into hiding, they struggle to stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer bent on keeping the ambassador’s secret.

Sounds good, right? And even though it’s part of a series, Kass tells me it’s a fantastic stand-alone read! Click on the following links to check it out.




Ginger Calem and the Epic ASSessory: The CRACK PATCH

Today marks the last day of post-natal guest-posting here at Blogging Barefoot.  Who better to close out these fabulous posts than Ginger Calem, blogger supreme, and my very good friend.

Hike up those britches, and let Ginger enlighten you!


Occasionally I run across a product that truly baffles me, not to mention an image I’d like to erase from my memory back.  This happened recently when I stumbled upon this doozy of a product, The bedazzled crack-patch.

Yeah, that’s what I thought too.  I mean, wouldn’t you just wear pants that didn’t show off your crack?  Or how about seeing thong underwear proudly on display over the waistband of jeans.  A. Your shirt is too short. B. It’s just wrong, WRONG!

Or how about the male equivalent or this look …

Sadly, I can tell you the trend in underwear for teenage boys in our town.  One trip to the middle school or high school and it’s all bagging out the top of their skinny jeans for all to see.

Now before you think I’m an out-of-touch prude, I’m totally down with low-rider jeans.  I have a closet full of them and have dutifully gotten rid of all my 80′s jeans.  But, I’m still not showing off my panties or my hiney and I sure as heck am not going to bedazzle my crack.

What do you think?

Fabio Bueno and the Penultimate Chick Flick

Fabio Bueno is a writer, book lover, family man, gamer, coffee drinker, X-Man hopeful, and a darn cool guy.

He’s also a snob.

A movie snob.

(I’m not calling him names, promise!  His movie snobbery is self-professed – check out his AWESOMESAUCE blog and you’ll see. :))

Today he’s here, putting that snobbery to good use, enlightening us on vast, wide world of Chick Flicks!

Have at it, Fabio!


Since we had fun with “The Opposite of Chick Flick” before, I thought we could talk a little about the opposite of the opposite of a Macho Movie: the romantic comedy!

A worldly, fast-talking guy thinks a girl is gorgeous, but also a spoiled princess. Because of a financial incentive, career advancement, and bragging rights, he decides to make the girl fall for him. The girl thinks the guy is a jerk and a womanizer, but he’s kind of hot. Even hating each other at first, they hang out a lot in an elaborate game of chicken. As they learn more about each other, they find out the other is not so bad after all, and a certain fondness arises. After a while (spoiler alert), they fall in love! The girl confesses her love, and the guy—even feeling guilty about his deception—is truly happy for a while. But he loves her too much: he can’t lie to her anymore. He does the honorable thing and tells her the truth. Only the girl doesn’t think he’s honorable at all. She abandons him and returns to her boring fiancée. However, a quirky person who is close to the girl helps her see the guy’s love for her is real. The guy even declined the promised reward! He’s trustworthy, and he loves her. The girl finds the guy, and they elope. The end.

I assure you: you’ve seen this movie. What’s the title?

(waiting for the answer)

Sorry, that’s not the correct answer. Come on! A hint: two Hollywood megastars headline the movie. Please try again. What’s the title?

(shaking the head)

Nope. The movie is called “It Happened One Night.” It is from 1934. It is also my favorite romantic comedy, because, as far as I know, it established the blueprint for almost all romantic comedies ever made since.

Here’s one of its famous scenes: the Walls of Jericho bit. Stay for the strip-tease at the end.

This scene was scandalous at the time (Claudette Colbert also shows a little skin in a later scene). Right after this movie, Hollywood created the Hays Code a form of institutional censorship that set back the art a few decades.

Another classic moment is below. Warning: it contains partial nudity in the last few seconds.

So, a fun movie, don’t you agree? Is the genre “silly entertainment”? It may well be, but this was the first movie to win the “Big Five” Oscars: movie, direction (for Frank Capra, aka one of the best directors of all time), actor (the inimitable Clark Gable), actress, and screenplay (obviously…).

If you like screwball comedies form the 30s, the IMDB’s faq page has a great list of recommendations, including “His Girl Friday” – probably the best dialogues ever.

Do you like the genre? What’s your favorite romantic comedy?

If you like movies, please come over my blog for fun bonus game!