Inspired by my husband and his new work toy...with apologies to lovers of "Matchmaker Matchmaker everywhere..."
Blackberry, Blackberry
Filter my spam.
Don’t make me check
At three a.m.
Blackberry, Blackberry
Leave me alone
For I’m in my bed
At Home.
I know you’re convenient and easy.
I know you’re efficient for work.
I know you improve productivity
But I find you more of a chore than a perk!
Blackberry, Blackberry
Wherever I go
The boss asks about work
And I can’t say no.
Blackberry, Blackberry
You’re like a great eye
A Corporate
merciless spy.
I’ve tried fleeing from you by camping
I’ve tried hiding on the deep ocean blue.
I’ve even gone to Pennsylvania Dutch country
But found emails there waiting, Four hundred and two.
Blackberry, Blackberry
You’re never off.
You don’t view weekends
As time one can sloth.
Blackberry, Blackberry
Please go away
And give to me
A perfect day
Please Give to me
One day work free
an inefficient work free day!
Have a blessed Good Friday Everyone...
If I were a rich man, I wouldn't blog for free, but there are more poor comics out there, go visit them too at www.humor-blog.com!
Showing posts with label Musicals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musicals. Show all posts
Friday, March 21, 2008
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Spin Doctor Cycle
My children’s memories of their childhood reality won’t be helped by these blog stories. I used to worry about the mythic nature of these tales. Then I remembered, my own kids’s stories about their family life are often mythic and don’t help matters. I’m just hoping that in the end, what they remember is they laughed a lot, Mom was nuts and that they were always loved and never lonely. Reading their memoirs when they grow up should be entertaining at least.
The First Spin…damage control
In front of the inlaws, our oldest, who had suffered a broken arm when he was two, asked, “Hey Mom! Do you remember that time when I was hit by the car?” My head wheeled around so fast, I hurt my neck. “NO!” I said. “That never happened!”
“Yes it did.” He remained convinced. The grandparents were eyeing me with some concern. “It happened at a McDonald’s near our home. You were walking with me.” In his defense, he was five at the time.
“You must have dreamed it sweetie.” I explained.
Everyone relaxed when he thought about it and said “Oh yeah.”
The Second Spin…Marketing is Everything
It happened again with my daughter turned nine and her father took her out on a date. They went to that famous toy store with the giraffe and had dessert out. She came home with a stuffed collie named Luke. She thanked her father and trotted upstairs to bed with the fluffy black dog in her arms.
The next morning, her grandparents called to wish her a happy birthday and to ask if she had done anything special. “Yeah.” She said flatly. “But I didn’t get to stay up till midnight.”
“Oh? What did you do?”
“Got some food. And then we went to the store.”
“And?”
“And I got a stuffed dog.”
“I see.”
Prompting kids to give more details over the phone sounds desperate but I did it anyway. I wanted her grandparents to know what a good birthday she’d had. “Tell her what you named it.” I suggested.
“I found the dog and it was a stray. It wasn’t where it belonged so it was probably old. I named it Luke.”
As embarrassing and frustrating as both of those situations were, the children have now learned that Spin works both ways…
The Third Spin…A spoon full of Sugar or in this case, Rodgers and Hammerstein
Ten days before Christmas, I summoned the children to the living room. “Presents for you.” I said and turned on the “Presentation of the Children” from the King and I. “Line up.” My oldest clapped his hands a la Yule Brenner. They obliged.
I left the room and waited for the musical cue.
Returning to the first child, I bowed and handed him his laundry. He played along. He bowed, took the basket and marched up in tune to the music. The musical selection was sufficiently long enough to allow six baskets to be delivered in grand fashion. There were two baskets left but since it wasn’t like the two babies were going to put away their stuff anyway, I got the point across. They laughed in good spirits but I overheard my second son saying to his sister as he carried his basket up.
“For Christmas, I’m going to give her some folded socks.”
This is how great memoirs aren’t written.
The First Spin…damage control
In front of the inlaws, our oldest, who had suffered a broken arm when he was two, asked, “Hey Mom! Do you remember that time when I was hit by the car?” My head wheeled around so fast, I hurt my neck. “NO!” I said. “That never happened!”
“Yes it did.” He remained convinced. The grandparents were eyeing me with some concern. “It happened at a McDonald’s near our home. You were walking with me.” In his defense, he was five at the time.
“You must have dreamed it sweetie.” I explained.
Everyone relaxed when he thought about it and said “Oh yeah.”
The Second Spin…Marketing is Everything
It happened again with my daughter turned nine and her father took her out on a date. They went to that famous toy store with the giraffe and had dessert out. She came home with a stuffed collie named Luke. She thanked her father and trotted upstairs to bed with the fluffy black dog in her arms.
The next morning, her grandparents called to wish her a happy birthday and to ask if she had done anything special. “Yeah.” She said flatly. “But I didn’t get to stay up till midnight.”
“Oh? What did you do?”
“Got some food. And then we went to the store.”
“And?”
“And I got a stuffed dog.”
“I see.”
Prompting kids to give more details over the phone sounds desperate but I did it anyway. I wanted her grandparents to know what a good birthday she’d had. “Tell her what you named it.” I suggested.
“I found the dog and it was a stray. It wasn’t where it belonged so it was probably old. I named it Luke.”
As embarrassing and frustrating as both of those situations were, the children have now learned that Spin works both ways…
The Third Spin…A spoon full of Sugar or in this case, Rodgers and Hammerstein
Ten days before Christmas, I summoned the children to the living room. “Presents for you.” I said and turned on the “Presentation of the Children” from the King and I. “Line up.” My oldest clapped his hands a la Yule Brenner. They obliged.
I left the room and waited for the musical cue.
Returning to the first child, I bowed and handed him his laundry. He played along. He bowed, took the basket and marched up in tune to the music. The musical selection was sufficiently long enough to allow six baskets to be delivered in grand fashion. There were two baskets left but since it wasn’t like the two babies were going to put away their stuff anyway, I got the point across. They laughed in good spirits but I overheard my second son saying to his sister as he carried his basket up.
“For Christmas, I’m going to give her some folded socks.”
This is how great memoirs aren’t written.
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