The H&R Block Surprise

So remember when I posted that entry about our not-so-great H&R Block experience?

Well.

Last night the phone rang. Tom answered. Then he brought the phone over to me.

I figured it was a telemarketer. For some reason Tom thinks that he can just pass the phone onto me whenever one calls us. He claims it’s because he doesn’t know how to talk to them even though I’ve explained that all you have to do is say, “Not interested. Thank you.”

I motioned with my hands that I didn’t want the phone. I was in the middle of watching The Deep End and was trying to follow the plot.

“It’s H&R Block,” Tom said, dropping the phone in my lap.

I figured that it was someone wanting to do a survey about our experience. And I was all prepared to tell them truthfully about our experience because you should be honest in order for a company to get better, right?

I answered the phone and the man on the end introduced himself and then said, “Your blog has been noted.”

Huh? What?

It took me a few seconds to understand. I paused the show.

“Hey,” Tom complained from the couch. I find it amusing that he always makes fun of the shows I watch, yet he seems to always get into them. He won’t admit it though.

“I want to apologize for your experience,” the man continued.

I kept thinking, “Holy crap, people other than my family read my blog.” I mean, duh, obviously people other than family read it because of the comments I get. But still. You never quite think that people give a crud on what you have to write.

The man was incredibly nice. He kept apologizing and saying that our experience should not have gone like that. That people should have acted more professional and that we shouldn’t have been turned away from the first office we went to, that the woman who told us that we were at the wrong H&R Block should have said that she could fit us in there.

Do you know what else he said? That he’d send us a check for the amount we paid H&R Block (you might remember me typing TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS a lot in the H&R Block entry.) He also said he’d send us a coupon to get our taxes done for free next year with H&R Block.

“We’d love if you gave us another chance,” the guy said.

So I agreed. I have to say, that I am now impressed with H&R Block. They went above and beyond to make things right. And no, they didn’t even ask me to write this. I decided I would because I appreciate the fact that someone called me, wanting to make things better.

After I hung up I told Tom what all happened.

He was surprised, but his opinion on H&R Block also changed.

“Just…watch what you write about,” Tom warned. “If you rant about my job, I could get in trouble.”

I smiled. “I don’t really rant about the Air Force. I mainly rant about you.”

Tom stuck his tongue out. “Gee, thanks. And you have ranted about the Air Force before. Remember when you threw a fit when you thought we’d be moving to Montana?

I thought back to the tears I shed, the angry blog post I had written. “That’s because the Air Force was sending us from one crappy base to another. That wasn’t fair. So long as they keep their end of the bargain, which is giving you a base from your Dream Sheet since you’re going to Korea for a year, the Air Force and I are cool.” I even crossed my fingers to show how tight the Air Force and I would be if they sent us to Texas. Or Ohio.

Tom shot me a Look. “Seriously though. Mind what you say. Promise?”

Now I slipped my crossed fingers behind my back so he couldn’t see. “I promise.”

The Big Bill

“Oh my gosh!” I shouted as I gripped the letter. I waited for Tom to shout back, “What is it?” but he didn’t. No, he continued to play his computer game. Sometimes I want to smack whoever created Call of Duty.

I stepped a little closer to where Tom sat. For once he didn’t have his headphones on so there was no excuse why he didn’t hear me.

“Oh my GOSH!” I tried again.

Nothing.

Sometimes it’s frustrating that he can get so lost in his game. I try and remind myself that he’s not a Mom, therefore he can easily shut off all his senses. Unlike me, who, as I’m writing this now, has my ears set to what Natalie is doing (playing with her Little People and munching on some grapes.)

“My gosh,” I said for the final time and then tossed the letter into Tom’s lap.

“What the HELL?” he yelled, jumping. A bunch of explosions appeared on the screen and then the words You’ve been killed by…. popped up. “Amber. You just got me killed. What in the…” He punched a few buttons and picked up the letter. “What’s this?”

“What we owe for Natalie’s hospital stay in Denver,” I answered sweetly.

Tom frowned, scanning for the amount. When he found it, he turned pale and went, “Seriously?”



“Mmmm,” I said lightly, scratching my arm.

“Do we have to....pay this?” Tom’s skin was still an unhealthy white.

“Yup,” I teased but then I quickly went, “No, no, insurance covers it, don’t pass out!!” Because after I had gone “yup” Tom had slumped over a bit. It really is a good thing he’s not married to one of those Housewives of Orange County who don’t think twice about dropping six grand on one dress.

“Thank goodness for insurance then,” Tom said, handing me back the letter.

“Yup. Thank goodness for insurance. Now I have to make a phone call to Verizon because while we were in the hospital, Natalie downloaded something onto my phone which ended up costing us another ten bucks on the bill,” I said.

Seriously. I have no idea what the little minx put on my phone. I had given it to her, to distract her as they put in her IV when we were at the hospital. She had happily punched a bunch of buttons, enjoying the way the screen flicked to different colors. From the corner of my eye I saw something that said, “Thank you for purchasing….” and I snatched it back.

“What did you purchase?” I asked stupidly. I mean, hello, like she’s going to tell me.

“Uh oh,” the nurse said.

Uh oh, indeed. Then I got our cell phone bill and sure enough, Natalie had indeed bought something.

So I dialed Verizon’s number and waited…

And waited….

And waited….

“Can I please just speak to a human being?!” I wailed.

Then I was told to say what I needed help with and they’d transfer me accordingly.

“My daughter downloaded something and I want to know what the crap it was!” I yelled.

There was a tinkling noise and then, “Could you repeat that?”

Great, I had confused the computer.

“MY DAUGHTER DOWNLOADED SOMETHING AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE CRAP IT WAS!”

There was another tinkling noise and then I was told I was being transferred.

Finally.

A human.

When one picked up I went, “Are you real or a computer?”

She laughed. “I’m real.”

So then I told her the problem and she found it hilarious—of course she would, my daughter’s mistake earned her company an extra ten bucks—but she didn’t quite know what Natalie downloaded.

“Look in the ring tones,” she suggested.

I did. Nothing.

“Hmmmm,” she kept mumbling.

Eventually I found a tiny recording that Natalie had made. She just went, “Blahhh,” into it and I guess she had set it to a ringtone. So that’s what cost me the extra money. A recording of my daughter going, “Blahhh.” Fantastic.

Mystery solved though.

And, by the way, Natalie is never touching my phone again. What would she do next, make a recording of her going, “Booooo?”

Inside Natalie's Closet: GBR Edition

So Gymboree had something called Gymbuck Redemption, which basically meant you could save money on the clothes you bought.

Gymbuck Redemption has been known to give me a headache because I never exactly know what I want. However, this time I'm pleased on what I picked out.

So without further ado, here is an entry called Inside Natalie's Closet: GBR (Gymbuck Redemption) edition.

"Hey Natalie, what do you think of the new dress?"



Natalie says, "Meh."

Then I started to sing creepy Yo Gabba Gabba songs and she warmed up:





"Hey Natalie, I got you some sunglasses to go with the dress. What do you think?"



Natalie says, "Meh."

But then I sang again and waved to a neighbor who walked past with her dog. "Nice song," she called out as I sang about not biting your friends.





"Come on Natalie, time for an outfit change. We'll pretend we're Jennifer Lopez."



And yes, that is a plastic skull that she's holding. She refused to let it go. "SKULL WANTS PICTURE TOO!" she bellowed as the same neighbor who had passed before, returned home. She probably thinks we're some freak house who collects skulls and talks about not biting people.



"Natalie, we just have one more outfit left. Okay?"



"WTF do you mean one more outfit?"

After a bite of chocolate, Natalie returned.

Only she didn't come back as Natalie.

She came back as a fairy.



She had to have the unicorn purse. While deciding what I should order, Natalie had spotted the purse and had gone, "For me?"



"Yes, Natalie, the purse is for you." And yes, she insisted on wearing her pink boots.



"I yuv the horse," Natalie said.



She doesn't always laugh when I sing. No, sometimes I have to run into the house to get a smile. I'm not kidding. Should I be concerned that my fake pain causes her pleasure?



After I ran into the house, Natalie pointed and shrieked, "Mommy went bang!" (And the same neighbor came outside to throw some trash away and saw me colliding ON PURPOSE with my home. Yeah. We're freaks in her eyes.)



Still amused.



Did I mention that the shirt had wings on the back?



"Natalie, I got you some sunglasses to go with this outfit too!"



"Say what?"



I was trying to get her to peek demurely out of her glasses. She kept going, "What's demore mean?"





"Mommy is funny when she smacks into a wall!"



This picture is called: "Natalie. With a Tumbleweed."

"Okay Natalie, just a few more pictures. Smile for Mommy!"



"Love you, Natalie."



"Yuv you, Mommy."

It's Time for Random Thoughts

1. Why does Chris Harrison, the host of The Bachelor feel the need to stroll out and announce that it’s the last rose of the night? Duh Chris Harrison. We can all SEE that there is one rose left. I realize that some of the women’s intelligence might be in question but I can almost guarantee that they can all count to one.

2. Fox has a new show called Our Little Genius or something like that. Tom saw the preview and went, “Natalie could be on that,” and I went, “Tom. When you ask Natalie what her name is she says nose. If you ask how old she is she says grass. She’s a smart kid but genius she is not…”

3. I always seem to be behind slow people in drive thrus. I’m not sure if these people are aware, but drive thrus are for people in a hurry. Drive thrus are for people with impatient two year olds who are screaming, “FRIES NOW!” in the backseat. But some people go to the drive thru and are all, “Yes, I’d like a burger but I only want the bun lightly toasted, just a bit of cheese, only one onion and….crap, nevermind, I think I’ll have the nuggets but not if they come out overcooked..” If your order is complicated, go inside. If you order half the menu, go inside. If you don’t know what you want when you pull up to the speaker, GO INSIDE!

4. Natalie screwed something up with the TV yesterday. This is why I need to put the remote control out of reach. I finally figured out how to fix it but it was after I had thrown the remote angrily across the room and called it an asshole (not in front of the kids, don’t worry.)

5. Remember awhile back when Tom ordered some Girl Scout cookies and didn’t bother to get me some Caramel Delights because he couldn’t remember what I liked? Well, he made it right. A guy at work was selling some for his daughter and Tom called and was all, “What do you like again?” *Sighs* We had had the conversation less than a week ago but still I said, “Caramel Delights.” We hung up and then a few second later he called back. “They don’t have Caramel Delights,” he insisted. “Yes, they do. The Girl Scouts would never get rid of Caramel Delights,” I said calmly. “No really, I don’t see Caramel Delights on the order form,” Tom replied. “Are Samoas there?” I asked. It was silent and then Tom went, “Yes! Samoas are there. Do you want those instead?” I went, “Tom, it’s the same thing as Caramel Delights,” and he went, “Then why aren’t they called Caramel Delights?” So I had to explain that in different areas, cookies are sometimes called different things and Tom went, “Girl Scouts are confusing.”

6. “Greetings, Sire,” I said to Tom as I dipped down into a curtsey. Tom didn’t even miss a beat when he said, “You’ve been watching The Tudors again, haven’t you?”

7. I really tried to like Jersey Shore since so many people were buzzing about it. But I couldn’t get into it. I sat down to watch the first episode and as soon as some guy said that he was called The Situation I turned it off. I’m sorry, but no. Just...no.

The H&R Block Debacle

It was Tom who wanted to go to H&R Block to get our taxes done.

I wanted to do them online as we had done four years in a row.

But no. He kept worrying that he’d make a mistake since we bought a new car and would get the sales tax back.

I kept saying that he was doing it right online because he had started it to see what our tax refund estimate would be.

“I’d just feel more comfortable going to an actual tax person,” Tom kept saying.

So fine, I gave in.

I made the appointment and we gathered up all our papers and drove over there.

We walk in, I say we have an appointment with Linda and the young girl behind the desk blinked at me.

“Um. There’s no Linda here,” she said.

Huh?

“Maybe the appointment was with someone else?” I suggested. Maybe they had given me another name on the phone. Natalie was freaking out when I was making the appointment after all. She wanted me to pick her up and when I refused, she started trying to climb up my leg. So I was trying to focus on the conversation while she decided to act like she was a monkey. On me.

The young girl typed in my name and shook her head. “Nope, you’re not here. Oh.” She peered closer at her screen and I thought, Phew, she’s figured it out. But then she gave me an apologetic smile and said, “You’re at the wrong H&R Block. Your appointment is for the one downtown. Not here.”

What?

“But I know I dialed the number for the one here.” I made sure of that.

She shook her head. “All the numbers are the same. The woman who took your appointment was supposed to let you know.”

I felt my blood begin to boil. “Well, she didn’t.” I said this sharply and gripped the handle of my purse. For a brief second I was tempted to spin my purse over my head and make a noise like Xena Warrior Princess to show my anger. But I didn't.

“I’m sorry. I’ll call and let them know you’re running late,” the girl said, picking up the phone.

“We don’t even know where the one is downtown!” I said.

So she gave us directions. I thought Tom was paying attention because hello, he was driving and he was the one who wanted to go to H&R Block in the first place. But when we got back in the truck he went, “What road do we turn off of?”

“Screw this,” I snapped, tossing the W2 on the ground. “Let’s do it online, okay.” Fine, I admit I have a temper if places aren’t organized. Why didn’t the woman on the phone tell me it was for the H&R Block downtown in the first place?

“I don’t want to do it online,” Tom said stubbornly. He started messing with his GPS. “We’ll figure this out.”

We made a few wrong turns. Usually Tom hollers and carries on when he’s missed a turn. But he just calmly turned the truck around while I seethed in my seat.

“I want to do the taxes online,” I kept saying.

“I don’t,” Tom answered.

We finally made it to other H&R Block. It was across the street from an adult bookstore. I’m not even kidding.

“Thanks Tom, for bringing us to the seedy part of town,” I said.

“No problem,” he replied lightly because after all, he was getting his way.

We checked into H&R Block and I apologized for being late—have I mentioned that I HATE being late? “But when I made the appointment the woman on the other end never bothered to tell me which H&R Block to go to. She seemed distracted when I spoke to her,” I said accusingly. This was true. I remember that the woman had seemed flippant and eager to get me off of the phone. I bet she was texting.

The blond woman behind the desk immediately looked guilty. “Oh. You probably spoke to me then. I have a bad habit of not telling people where to go. Tee hee.”

I’m not kidding. She actually went teehee at me.

Tom could see I was about to lose my cool so he took hold of my arm and led me to some chairs in the waiting area.

“Sit. Breathe,” he instructed, taking the clipboard with the paperwork that we had to fill out from me.

“But that girl teeheed me like it was no big deal!” I hissed. “There are people out there who need jobs and H&R Block gave teehee girl one? What’s wrong with this world?”

Tom put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. We’re here now.”

A few minutes later we were called back by our tax person. I showed her the receipt that we got for paying the car tax when we bought the new car. I expected her to go, “Oh yes, I’ve seen tons of those before.” Instead she took the paper from me, peered closely at it and went, “Hmmm. I’ve never done one of these before.”

Okay, I assumed H&R Block was filled with experts.

I shot Tom a Look that clearly said, “THIS is what you wanted?”

“I’ll figure it out though,” the woman said as she logged onto her computer.

I slid over our Social Security cards. “Show me the money,” I said jokingly. I was trying to make best of the situation even though I still wanted to throw something at Teehee Girl.

The woman stared at me with wide eyes. She was clearly perplexed. “Huh?”

“Show me the money,” I repeated a little weakly. Hasn’t she seen Jerry Maguire? I assumed everyone had.

“Don’t mind my wife,” Tom spoke up. “She has Tourettes.”

Actually, he didn’t really say that. But his expression certainly did.

“It’s a line from a movie. Never mind,” I mumbled to my fingers.

The woman blinked a few seconds and then took the Social Security cards. “I see,” she said with faux politeness. “I see.”

Then we started. And her computer tax program kept beeping at her.

“What am I doing wrong?” she said.

Was she asking us? How would WE know?

Finally she’d figure it out but then something else would go wrong.

I was beginning to get a headache. I kept tossing Tom I-told-you-so looks. Trust me, if the roles were reversed and I insisted on going to H&R Block, he’d have done the same to me.

An hour later we were finally done.

“So your total fee is $230,” the woman said, tapping her screen.

Excuse me?

Did she say TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS?

Was she on crack?

I mean, it was the seedy part of town. She could have very well been on crack.

“Yes,” Tom said beside me. “Okay.” He nudged me as if to say, “Start acting like a human being.”

“Two hundred and thirty dollars?” I echoed.

“That’s right. We can just take it from your tax refund if you wish. But if you pay us with a debit or credit card, you get thirty dollars off,” the woman said cheerfully. How does she sleep at night charging people that much for punching in a few numbers? We had an uncomplicated tax return for craps sake.

“We’ll pay with debit card,” I said thinly. I poked Tom in the leg as if to say, “I hope you’re happy with this. We could have paid NOTHING had we done it online.”

I mean, okay, I’m happy with the tax refund amount that we’re getting back.

But two hundred and thirty dollars to get said tax refund? Seriously?

I was trying to bite my tongue as we got into the truck to leave.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked as he backed out.

“Nothing,” I answered but my tone clearly said that I was pissed the crap off.

Then Tom went, “Actually, the amount we got back was basically the same amount as it showed online.”

That’s when I lost it.

“Why didn’t you SAY anything then? We could have walked away if we didn’t want to pay TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS! You should have said, ‘Excuse me, clueless H&R Block lady, but when I typed everything in online I got the same amount so I think we’re going to walk.’ And you DIDN’T?” I didn’t want to throw anything at TeeHee Lady at that moment (on the way out she had gone, “Have a fantabulous night!” and I felt the urge to throw my cell phone at her blond head). Now I had a compulsion to hurl something at my husband’s head.

“Well, I figured she did all that work so we should pay her for it,” Tom said calmly. How can he remain so calm? TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS?

“Here, you look stressed, I’ll get you a diet cherry coke from Sonic. Okay?” Tom offered.

He’s really lucky that I love Sonic.

Two hundred and thirty dollars indeed.

The Golf Outfit

Tommy asked, “Can I try on my new outfit?”

I went, “Of course!” I had been wanting to try it on him to make sure it fit. I bought it at, where else, Gymboree.





Tommy asked, “Is this like a golf outfit?”

I went, “Yes, it is.”





Tommy asked, “Can I golf someday?”

I went, “Sure. You’ll have to go with your Dad though because I have no idea how to golf. I don’t know a golf club from another. Maybe I need to re-watch Happy Gilmore to remind myself.” (The price is WRONG, bitch.)





Tommy asked, “Can I be a golfer and a swimmer?”

I went, “You can be whatever you want to be.”





Tommy asked, “Can I be a golfer like that Lion Woods guy?”

I went, “It’s Tiger Woods and maybe one day you’ll be as good as him. But I’d rather you not act like him.”





Tommy asked, “What does that mean?”

I hesitated. I didn’t think using the term “man whore” was appropriate for a seven year old.

So I went, “He just made some poor choices.”






Tommy asked, “Like when I asked what French kissing was at Target?”

I went, “That was a poor choice, yes. Let’s not ever do that again, okay?”





Tommy asked, “My friend got French kissed, you know.”

I went, “You’re seven! You’re not to French kiss for many, many years.”

Tommy asked, “Like when I’m twenty five?”

I went, “Yes. Perfect.”

It Was Missing

Oh no.

I couldn’t find it.

It was lost.

So I dialed my husband’s cell phone. When he picked up I went, “Tom, this is in an emergency.” I didn’t say it in a this-is-a-real-emergency tone. It was a playful tone.

Tom didn’t seem to get this though.

“What happened? Are the kids okay? Did you get spooked again? Amber, I told you, if you hear something moving around in the front yard it’s just antelope. It’s not an alien. And no, that thing you saw in the corner was not a ghost. It was probably the curtain,” Tom said.

“The kids are fine. I’m not spooked,” I said, rifling through the cabinet for my missing treasure. Where could it be? WHERE WAS IT? Maybe an alien abducted it…

“Then…why are you calling me? I’m at work.” Now Tom was irritated. And yes, I know I shouldn’t call him at work but let it be known that sometimes he just calls me just to see what’s up. And usually when he calls it’s not a good time. I’m usually struggling to get Natalie to brush her teeth and when I grab the phone she escapes and hides. Or I’m trying to get Natalie to sleep and when I turn and get the phone, she races from the room and yells, “Bye!” and then I have to wrangle her all over again.

“I know you’re at work. But it’s missing!” I wailed.

“What’s missing?” Tom asked impatiently.

Oh. Right. I should probably tell him that.

“The Hangover. My DVD! It was here in the movie cabinet and now it’s gone. I really wanted to watch Mike Tyson try to act tonight. I wanted to see that Chinese man who appears on like every show and movie jump out of the trunk of the car naked,” I complained. I pushed aside some of my other DVDs.

“Oh.” Now Tom sounded guilty. “I took it to watch tonight.”

See, if he finishes all his walks with his dog he gets to sit and watch DVDs until he gets a call telling him to show up with his dog.

“Tom! That was my DVD!” Seriously, it was MINE. I paid for it with my Christmas money.

“Technically it’s ours,” Tom pointed out.

“You should have asked! You don’t appreciate it like I do!”

“Yes, I do,” Tom argued.

“No, you don’t. Take Billy Madison for example. You never laugh when Billy is making the shampoo and conditioner fight. That scene is hilarious and you just SIT there,” I whined.

“It’s not that funny,” Tom said. “He’s making shower products argue.”

“It’s hilarious!” I insisted. “I want my Hangover back!”

“You can have it tomorrow,” Tom said calmly. “Go watch Pacey’s Creek or something.”

“It’s DAWSON’S Creek and I don’t feel like it. I have to be all angsty when I watch that. I’m not feeling angsty. I’m feeling silly and I want to watch The Hangover,” I fumed.

“You can’t,” Tom said simply. I hate how he can remain so calm while we’re arguing. I just want him to react sometimes. Don’t just STAND there.

“You’re mean,” I said and hung up. In the end I decided to watch Billy Madison.

And yes, I cracked up at the fight between the shampoo and conditioner.

New Glasses Rock!

Sometimes getting my mail is no fun. Especially when it's filled with bills and applications for credit cards that I don't even want. It's like, hello Discovery if I've turned you down for five years, what makes you think I'm going to suddenly change my mind? Anyhow, yesterday I actually had good mail! I got a pair of eyeglasses from GlassesUSA! I was contacted to review a pair of glasses and I was thrilled to see that they had arrived.

GlassesUSA has tons of prescription eyeglasses to choose from for men and women. They have full frames, semi-rimless frames, rimless eyeglasses, classic frames, and progressive lenses. I was told I could pick a pair and there were so many I liked. Plus, you have to understand that I have a strong eye prescription so I was impressed that GlassesUSA was easily able to accomodate that. Sometimes I go into a glasses store and am told I can't have certain frames due to my prescription. It stinks, let me tell you.

(Here are some other frames I liked:



)

In the end I choose these pair of eyeglass frames:



You can't go wrong with pink after all! The ironic thing is, when I was little I hated the color pink. I swore I'd never wear it. And now look at me! Pink everywhere. Pink splashed all over my daughter. It's like a flamingo threw up in her closet or something.

But back to the glasses. For starters, I was impressed on how they were packaged.



I hate when things arrive in a huge package when it's just a tiny item. I liked how the package from GlassesUSA was nice and compact.



Still nicely wrapped....



My glasses came with a case and a cloth--this comes in handy when you have grabby two-year-olds who like to rip your glasses off of your face. Farewell, fingerprints!

Another good thing about GlassesUSA? They donate all of their returned glasses to all sorts of organizations so that people who can't afford vision care can get some glasses.

If you'd like a pair of glasses from GlassesUSA you can use the code Mommy5 and save 5%. This never expires.

Of course I had to try the glasses on. I wore them out to Wal-Mart and got complimented by the guy standing in line behind me. Granted, at first he said, "Are those real diamonds?" Um, hello, if they were I probably wouldn't be in Wal-Mart. Actually, I probably still would. Even if I struck it rich I'd still be a bargain hunter I imagine. But anyhow, I told the guy that no, sorry, they weren't real. He nodded and went, "They look nice." And yes, he might have been wearing a t-shirt with the words LEGEND written across the front in big yellow letters with a giant arrow underneath that pointing to his crotch. But still. Dude from Wal-Mart complimented me.





So thank you GlassesUSA for giving me the chance to review your glasses. I'll definately pass on the website to all my friends and family.

My Dear Letters

Nothing much to report so I'll just do My Dear Letters today.

--------------
Dear Tom Hanks,

Could you please do a romantic comedy like you did in Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail? I get that you want to branch out but your latest movie where you searched for angels or was it demons or maybe it was both did not catch my interest. So please. Another romantic comedy.

Signed,
A Just-Want-A-Regular-Chick-Flick-Where-Characters-Don’t-Walk-Into-A-Wall-For-Laughs,
Amber

--------------


Dear Bear Gryllis (from Man VS Wild),

Thank you for spoiling my appetite by drinking the water from some creature’s poop. I mean, do you really have to do it? I think explaining it is enough. I really don’t need to see you drink the poop. I mean, dear gracious. On the bright side, I think I know how to stop myself from eating that sixth Reeses Peanut Butter Cup of the day: by watching your show. So all the women out there dieting? Watch Man VS Wild. You’ll lose your appetite at least once during the program, I guarantee it.

Signed,
A Grossed-Out,
Amber

-------------

Dear Tommy,

I don’t care what your friends say. Asking me if I liked your ass was NOT appropriate. What kind of people are you hanging out with, anyway? Why are you all sitting around and talking about your butts? I’m confused. And appalled.

Signed,
A-They-Grow-Up-So-Fast-Don't-They?
Amber

--------------

Dear Person on Half.com Who I Tried To Buy The Lovely Bones From,

Um, here’s an idea. Make sure you HAVE the book before listing it for sale. I don’t appreciate getting a e-mail saying, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the book.” So repeat after me: find your items. THEN list. Find your items. THEN LIST!

Signed,
I-Just-Want-To-Compare-The-Book-To-The-Movie,
Amber

------------

Dear Jay Leno,

I think it’s time for you to retire. It’s Conan’s turn now. Conan is more interesting to look at—I can never tell if he’s had plastic surgery or not. His face looks all plasticy and shiny. And I don’t know what’s up with his hair either. When I look at you Jay, all I think is, “Big chin.” So please. Retire and let Conan keep his time slot. Thanks.

Signed,
A-Gal-On-Team-Conan,
Amber

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Dear People On The Forum I Write At Who Claim They’ve NEVER Farted In Front Of Their Husbands,

Are you human? Seriously? Repeat after me: farting is okay. And you don’t have to call farts cutesy things either. It’s called farting, not popped out a fluffy. That reminds me of a puppy. Do you fart out a puppy? One would hope not.

Signed,
A-Woman-Who-Openly-Farts-In-Front-Of-Her-Husband,
Amber

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Dear Lost,

I can’t wait for you to return though reports are saying that people are going to be confused. Not trying to be rude here but I’m confused 96% of the time watching your show. Thankfully I enjoy it enough that I don’t mind not fully comprehending why a giant foot statue was in the middle of the island or how there are two Lockes.

Signed,
An-All-Prepared-To-Be-Confused,
Amber

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Dear Tom,

Seriously, I’ll get sexier underwear when you start putting yours in the laundry basket. ‘K?

Signed,
A-Refusing-To-Pick-Up-Laundry-From-The-Floor,
Amber

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Dear Annoying Neighborhood Kid,

Please stop walking into my house without knocking. It’s rude. I know you were confused when I went, “Woah, Salahi wanna be, you weren’t invited, therefore you must leave.” The Salahi’s, in case you weren’t sure, are the people who got into the White House. UNINVITED.

Signed,
A-KNOCK-FIRST,
Amber

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Dear Natalie,

Thanks for reminding me why we DON’T HAVE NICE THINGS!



Signed,
An-Irritated-And-Foolish-For-Leaving-Child-Alone-With-Ranch,
Amber

The Movie Made Me Paranoid

I went to see The Lovely Bones on Saturday with Amanda.

I had read the book awhile back so I knew what it was about. I remember when I read the book that I couldn’t stop crying so I knew I should probably pack tissues for the movie—I was stuffing some into my purse when Tom walked into the kitchen. He was bleary eyed and a little confused—I had woken him up ten minutes before. He works the night shift and sleeps during the day. When I had rubbed his arm he had bolted upright in bed and said, “What? Work now?” and I went, “No dear. Not work. You just have to get up to watch the kids since I’m leaving.” (And don’t worry, he got plenty of sleep—he stumbled into bed around six in the morning, tossed his man leg over my waist and woke ME up, I might add...my movie started at 410 so I let Tom sleep until 3.)

“What are the tissues for?” Tom grumbled, scratching his head.

“If I cry. The book was sad so there’s a good chance that I’ll cry,” I said, pulling out some stale fruit snacks from my purse. Gross, I really need to clean it out. I picked up a coupon for Dominos. “So look, for dinner you can order pizza. Make sure you mention this coupon or they’ll charge you full price. This is the number you call and I suggest you call around 4 seeing that it’s Saturday and it could be busy....are you listening to me?”

Tom was teetering back and forth and was staring at the wall. “I’m listening. I’m just irritated. You treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Well. Maybe because a lot of the times he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“So here’s the coupon.” I slid it across the counter. “Remember to mention it before—”

“I know. Jesus!”

I hate that I have to treat him like a child but honestly if I don’t, he ends up calling me asking what he needs to do.

“So I’m leaving,” I said. I hugged Natalie, who was playing with her creepy Yo Gabba Gabba dolls.

“You play,” she said, shoving Foofa at me.

“I can’t. Mommy is leaving,” I answered.

Natalie’s face fell. “No!” Then she latched onto my ankle.

“Tom? A little help?”

But Tom was already in front of the computer, starting a game.

I eventually managed to pry her off of me by putting on Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan. Then I ran out.

(I'm free, I'm free, I'm free!)

When we got to the theater I got my medium diet coke and small popcorn (“you sure you don’t want to upgrade your drink to a large? Only forty cents more. You sure you don’t want a medium popcorn? The small is kinda…small…” the teenaged theater worker said..) and then Amanda and I had to wait a bit while they cleaned the room up. A few other people joined us to wait and then someone mentioned that the sequel to Alvin in the Chipmunks was painful to sit through.

“What? Don’t knock Alvin! He rocks!” some weird guy said.

Um?

“And you can’t go wrong with the Chipettes,” he added suggestively.

Um. EW!

I wonder if he’s aware that they aren’t real.

And that they are chipmunks.

And again. Not real.

Thankfully we were able to go in so we could get away from Weird Chipette Lover.

The movie was good. I enjoyed it and it wasn’t all depressing. Although when it was over I vowed that my kids would never be allowed out of the house unsupervised again (because for those who don’t know, the movie deals with a child’s murder.) When I got home I burst through the house.

“Where’s Tommy?” I said.

Tom looked up with a start on the couch. “Uh. In the garage with his friends.”

“But it’s dark out! He has to come in. Someone could grab him!”

“Amber, have you been drinking?”

“He has to come in!” I ran to the garage and opened the door. “Tommy, you have to come in!”

“Are you okay?” Tom asked from behind me.

“I’m fine. It’s just…the movie made me all paranoid. Have you noticed any of our neighbors acting suspiciously?”

Tom frowned. “Not that I know of. Amber, seriously, what is going on?”

Tommy came in at that moment and I threw my arms around him. “Tommy, remember if anyone tries to lure you into an underground cave, you run.”

Tommy cast a confused look at Tom, who shrugged. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your mother either,” Tom said.

“And if anyone asks you to look at a puppy, you run,” I continued. “Stranger danger, Tommy. Stranger danger.”

“Mommy. You’re hurting me.”

I hadn’t realized that I was gripping onto his shoulders. Oops.

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting go. “But there are a lot of bad people in the world.”

I peeked out the window and eyed all the houses around us with suspicion. “In the movie the murderer lived across the street. Any of these people could be living secret lives.”

Tom sighed. “This is why you shouldn’t watch movies like this. You only upset yourself. Like when we saw Signs? You swore there were aliens running around in the backyard. Hell, you still think aliens are running around in our backyard. Repeat after me Amber: it’s just make believe. Our neighbors are sane and there are no aliens.”

“I’m going to my room,” Tommy said.

“Stranger danger!” I called to his back.

“I know that!” came Tommy’s irritated reply.

Tom rolled his eyes at me. “Let’s stop talking about this, okay? Let’s…talk about the Girl Scouts. They came by selling cookies.”

My heart lifted at the thought of Caramel Delights.

“Did you buy me Caramel Delights?” I asked.

Tom immediately looked guilty. “Um…no? Is that what you like?”

Is that what I like? We’ve only been married for EIGHT YEARS! He’s seen me eat the same Girl Scout Cookie for EIGHT YEARS.

“Well, what DID you buy?” I demanded. I flicked back the curtain and scowled out at the other houses. I’m onto you, secret creepy neighbors…maybe the Crazed Twilight Mom kidnaps children. She seems the type. I mean hell, she thinks Taylor Lautner is hot after all and she’s in her thirties and he’s seventeen. Ew.)

“I bought two boxes of Thin Mints and two boxes of Tagalongs,” Tom said.

“How sweet. At least you bought me a box of Thin Mints.” I kissed his cheek.

Tom looked guilty again. “Er…actually both boxes are for me…”

“Did you not order me anything?” I had to resist the urge to add, “you selfish bastard.”

“I didn’t know what you wanted!” Tom threw up his hands.

“Caramel Delights. Thin Mints! Basically anything except the healthy ones!” I shrieked.

“Well, they always sell boxes at Wal-Mart. Buy what you want there,” Tom said with a shrug.

“One of those Thin Mint boxes are mine. You don’t need four boxes of cookies,” I sulked.

“Oh, but I do.”

I peeked out the window again. “Our neighbor across the street has something strange in his garage. See, right there in the corner?”

Tom leaned over my shoulder to look. “A rake?”

I pressed my nose to the glass. Oh. It was a rake.

Well, in my defense, from a distance it looked like a dangerous weapon.

On Stalking Target

So I admit it, I had been stalking Target all week.

Rumor had it that they’d be marking a bunch of toys 75% off.

The problem was, no one exactly knew when it would happen. Oh, there were rumblings that it might happen on Tuesday. So I went on Tuesday and nope, nothing. I’d march into the toy section with high expectations and be let down when I got to the area and saw the 50% off signs staring back up at me. Yeah, some might say 50% off was a good deal—but not for me—not when I’ve tasted the sweet nectar of 75% off.

Then on the forum I post at a few people thought that the toy sale might start on Wednesday.

So back to Target I went.

And…I was let down again.

“Why won’t you go down?” I fumed at the toys. Not really. I didn’t say that out loud because then I’d not only be the Lady Who Stalks Target but the Lady Who Stalks Target AND Talks To Herself.

Of course I didn’t walk away empty handed. No, they had marked shoes to 75% off so at least I got some sort of consolation prize in the form of ultra adorable red Mary Janes for Natalie.

“Thursday for sure!” a few people assured me on the forum.

So guess who was in front of Target bright and early on Thursday?

You have to understand that I am not a morning person. But I did this because I wanted the deals. I did this because both of my kid’s birthdays are in March and if I found toys for 75% off, it meant I didn’t have to pay full price for toys when it came closer to their birthdays. I know some people recognized me. One worker pointed her finger at me and looked as though she wanted to say, “You’re the nut that’s been here every day this week!” But she didn’t because she probably thought back to the work videos that were made in the 80s that she was forced to watch about Customer Etiquette. The woman in the video with the big 1980s hair probably drawled, “And we don’t ever make the customer feel bad. Even if she’s stalking the store and has been there every day of the week.”

My heart was thumping with excitement. This had to be the day. It had to be! Because, and I hated to admit it, I was a little tired of Target.

I know!

*Le Gasp*

You have to understand that I love Target. It’s one of my favorite stores. When I walk through the door, I want to burst out into song and bellow, “Over there is the dollar spot where I bribe my kid to keep quiet so I can shop in peace, LALALA!” I don’t. Because then I’d be the Lady Who Stalks Target And Not Only Talks To Herself But Sings To Herself Too.

I rushed into the toy section, desperate to beat Old Lady Hog, my competition. She usually fills up two carts with toys. At first I thought, “Aw, shopping for Grandchildren,” but then I heard her on the phone bragging that she was going to make a mint selling all her stuff on eBay. Then I wanted to take stuff from the old bat’s cart. I didn’t though. But Old Lady Hog, she doesn’t like me because I found the last singing Brobee and she was not pleased.

“Where did you find that?” she had demanded.

“The shelf. Duh.” Okay, I didn’t add the ‘duh’ part because even though she’s one of those ebayers, one should still respect their elders.

Ever since then, whenever we’ve spotted each other we give sharp nods of acknowledgement and don’t bother to say a word.

But guess what?

The toys were STILL marked at 50% off.

“Frick!” I shrieked. Great. I was talking to myself. It’s what happens when you’ve been to the same store EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK. I found a bunch of Target workers marking down bedding and such and I wanted to say, “Hi there. Hi guys! How about instead of marking down ugly ass pillows, we concentrate on the toy section?” And then I’d make a sweeping motion with my hands towards the toy aisles.

I didn’t do this, don’t worry, it was just one of my aggravated at being at Target and being let down again thoughts.

So I went back home.

I got back on the forum all set to tell some people off. (“WTF do you MEAN that toys are 75% off? Where are you getting your flipping information?”) But then I saw some people were talking about the 75% off sale. Some stores had gone 75% off.

Frick, frick, frick.

Then it came to the afternoon and someone said, “My Target just finished marking down toys to 75% off. They were running behind.”

So I decided to call my Target. A woman answered and I went, “Yes, hello, did the toys go 75% off?”

“Huh? I don’t know,” she said and then there was silence.

“Do you have time to check?” I asked sweetly.

“Huh? I guess,” and then I heard a clunk.

Then I heard a beeping sound and figured she hung up on me. But no, she just transferred me to the toy department.

“Toy department,” a gruff male voice said.

“Hello, did the toys happen to go to 75% off?”

“RON! DID THE TOYS GO 75% off?” he screamed.

Um. Eardrum on the other end of the phone, dude.

“Yeah. They did. Just now,” the guy told me.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

“Okay. Thank you!” I said and hung up.

Then I started racing around like a mad woman. Tom had just woken up since he works the night shift and he watched me from the couch with knitted eyebrows.

“Did a bug fall down your shirt or what?” he asked.

“Target…sale…SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT OFF!” I started yanking on my jeans. Usually around the house I wear my comfy pants. I wasn’t naked or anything.

“Where are you going?” Tom wondered.

Was he deaf?

“TARGET!” I shrieked. “The toys…they’ve finally gone 75% off. I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

Then when I got to Target I saw a woman loading a bunch of toys into the trunk of her car. What did she buy? Did she take all the toys? WAS THAT THE LAST YO GABBA GABBA SET?

“Hi,” I said cheerfully. “So it’s true? The toys went 75% off?”

She jumped and put a hand to her heart. “Oh! You scared me!” She looked at me suspiciously.

“I’ve just been waiting for this sale forever,” I said.

She shoved a bag into her car. A bag FILLED with a bunch of dolls. Did she take all the dolls? Who could possibly need 6 dolls?

“Oh. I just happened to be shopping today and the toys were on sale.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. She hadn’t been to Target every day waiting like I had. She had just wandered in and grabbed what she wanted.

Sometimes life isn’t fair.

“So…I’m going to go now,” the girl said.

“Right. Yes. Goodbye,” I said and hurried to Target. I grabbed a cart and hurried into the toy section...

....and yes, everything was finally 75% off.

As I was putting toys into my cart, another woman wandered beside me.

“Isn’t this fun?” I gushed as I stuck a creepy Yo Gabba Gabba toy into my cart.

She frowned. “Fun?”

“You know. Because of the deals?” I swept my arm over the aisle of amazing deals. Couldn't she see? Where else can you find a play kitchen for only twenty bucks?

She scratched her chin. “I guess?” She picked up a baby toy and stared at it. Hmmm. I guess deals don’t thrill her.

I finished ten minutes later. I didn’t buy too much, I’m proud to say. I picked up Wendys for Tom on the way home and when I walked through the door I handed over the bag.

“What’s this?” Tom said, confused.

“A burger. For you!”

Tom craned his neck around me so he could focus on the car. “What did you get? Did you get me this burger so I wouldn’t ask you how much you spent?”

Actually....no, I didn’t even think about that. But after Tom said it I thought it sounded like a pretty good idea.

“How much did you spend?” Tom tried again.

“I got this giant dinosaur that was originally $129 for $32!”

“How much did you spend?”

“And the Yo Gabba Gabba toys for Natalie’s birthday!”

“How much did you SPEND?”

“Old Lady Hog wasn’t even there. She probably didn’t think the sale started today,” I continued lightly.

Tom sighed. “I know what you’re doing.”

He did? Because I didn’t really know what I was doing. I figured if I kept talking then Tom would give up asking me the question. That’s what they do on Gilmore Girls. Luke wants to know an answer from Lorelei so she just talks about other things or just says something completely bizarre.

“Go on, eat your burger or it’ll get cold,” I urged.

Tom stared into the bag. “Fine. But this isn’t over. I’ll find out how much you spent. I can just look on the account, you know.”

“The electric chair was invented by a dentist. Did you know that? I’m not surprised, dentists are evil, evil people.”

Tom gaped at me for a few seconds. “I’m just going to go eat now.”

“Enjoy!” I said cheerfully.

This is what I got:



Guitar was $7, Yo Gabba Gabba thing was $8, and the Trio set was $10.



Snow White was $5, Yo Gabba Gabba was $5, and the airplane was $8.



This was only $5!



Both kids will have fun with this.

And seriously, the thing was only $32 marked down from $129!



When Tom saw me carrying the dinosaur box in he went, "What in the world is that?"

"An awesome remote control dinosaur!"

I thought Tom would lecture me or something on how we didn't need an ultra cool giant dinosaur--I even braced myself for it--but no, instead he went, "Can we open and play with it now?"

Inside Natalie's Closet..

It's no secret that I love to buy clothes for my kids.

So I've decided to start a post called Inside Natalie's Closet.

Sometimes Tommy will be guest star. It's harder to get him to take pictures because he either does this:



Or he'll ask me to take a picture of his butt. (No.)

So without further ado, here is one of Natalie's outfits. This one is from Gap's Boho line.



We've had some warm weather these past few days. And by warm weather, I mean in the 40s.



I know! The hat is huge. It reminds me of a mushroom or something. But I really like hats that match outfits.



She's all, "WTF are you doing now?" I usually jump up and down or sing to get her to laugh. My neighbors all think I'm nuts.



"Now what? I'm wearing the oversized hat. What more do you want from me?"





The Yo Gabba Gabba songs usually make her laugh.



"Bye Blog people!"

And now..

Guest starring Tommy!

Sporting a matching sweater and hat (told you I love the hats!) from Gymboree. The blue t-shirt shouldn't be there but he refused to take it off.







"Take a picture of me screaming, Mommy!"



"Now I'm being a model, Mommy!"



"After this do you want to take a picture of my butt, Mommy?"

"No."