Emma And Mommy

Conversation from 4/30/2009

1. What is something that mommy always says to you? Be a good girl and not be a bad girl.
2. What makes mommy happy? When you poop in the potty (um..true?)
3. What makes mommy sad? When you poop in your pants (also..true)
4. How does mommy make you laugh? You do funny jokes and I laugh out loud.
5. What was mommy like as a child? She liked to play
6. How old is mommy? 50 (screw you Emma!)
7. How tall is mommy? A little bit tall
8. What is mommy’s favorite thing to do? You like to play ball and get presents and play with your little girl
9. What does mommy do when you’re not around? You leave
10. What is mommy really good at? Good doing a bath, good cooking, good doing laundry
11. What is mommy NOT very good at? Not very good at cooking (Hey! You just said I was good at that!)
12. What does mommy do for her job? You work on the computer, you type something.
13. What is mommy’s favorite food? Carrots, Begtables, Foods and Flowers
14. If mommy were a cartoon character, who would she be? Dora
15. What do you & Mommy do together? We have fun, we eat somewhere, and we go to subway Eat Fresh!
16. How do you know mommy loves you? Because you give me kisses and hugs
17. What does mommy like about Daddy? You be mad at my dad (ruh roh)
18. Where is mommy’s favorite place to go? To Subway Eat Fresh!

Ok, I don’t even like Subway! I took her there once, two weeks ago!! LOL

Booking The Band with Jen and Spencer

I saw your post on FB. Me and my new band Menstrual Soup are looking for a gig this Saturday. Can we play your hen party? I think you girls would dig it.

Here is the band’s old promo photo (Photo One below) before I took the place of the paratrooper on the right and made them stop wearing costumes. I also hired two more bass players a couple minutes ago so we now have a total of 6 basses on stage. Our live show should destroy the basements of any homes we perform at. If that doesn’t work we’ve hired Michael Bay to choreograph our pyrotechnic show and plan on blowing up Wichita next month. Most people are killed at our shows.

Spencer Estep

——

Perfect. You had me at “most people are killed at our shows”. I will get you pics.

Do you guys have red costumes and stuff? Props? Believe me Spencer, these ladies are no hens. Or ladies for that matter. These are hardcore sexually frustrated MILFs in dead end marriages and bad relationships looking to find boys to use in completely twisted and borderline illegal ways.

Jennifer Grant

—–

Wow!!! Looks like I’m going to have to get some more bass players!! Maybe even another band…who should I ask? Would you prefer to have Deth Korpse or Corpse F*cker open the show? I can’t have them both show up because Corpse F*cker are my friends from the Synagogue and Deth Korpse don’t agree with their religious viewpoints. We tried to squash their differences at a chili cook-off but it got more heated (no pun intended) after an argument over the use of kosher salt v.s. sea salt ensued. I’ll hook LaDean up with Torkel as we’re not sure if he’s a man. He can’t grow a goatee, skinny beard or mustache so we have our doubts. I’ve got dibs on Kasey- I like the fancy girls. Maybe our cover of Spinal Tap’s “Lick My Love Pump” will get her in the mood.

Just got an email from Corpsaholic- they’re definitely out b/c of scheduling conflicts.

Spencer Estep

——

I’m bummed about Corpsaholic, but I definitely prefer Corpse F*cker over Deth Korpse any day. Wait, you don’t know Mega Corpse F*ck, do you? Because that would be awesome.

You definitely need more bass players. There’s a pickup station now down in the rehabbed “South Side” Oak Cliff area where they all congregate. You just drive up in your truck and pick the one’s you want based on the quality of the hair-flipping, posing, and tightness of their acid washed jeans. Just keep your eye on the bulges, (like you wouldn’t). In the case of bassists, as you know, bigger does NOT mean better.

And just an FYI, if you want to impress Kasey, she prefers Megadeth (because they “get her”) and responds really well to being called a “crazyassbitch”. If that doesn’t do it, two words….Jello Shots. The kind with Everclear.

Jennifer Grant

Chicken Mac Casserole

The quantities are important so measure exactly:

Buy some chicken. Ron was supposed to by breasts. He bought legs, so that’s what I used. He’s an idiot. Cut into pieces. This big (holding hands out).

Bag o’macaroni

Italian Breadcrumbs (some)

Sour Cream (three huge dollops)

Part of an onion chopped (to taste)

Dijon mustard (some dollops – think I used about 3 tablespoons)

Shredded cheddar (a big bag)

Velveeta (some squares. Like maybe two ounces)

Can of Cream of Chicken soup

Cayenne pepper, salt, pepper, lemon & herbs…like, a little cayenne and more of the rest.

Cook the macaroni

Put it in all in a dish & mix carefully, leaving some of the cheese and all of the breadcrumbs for the top. If you don’t mix it carefully, call me and I’ll bring Taco over and he’ll eat the part you spilled on the floor like he did here. He dug it.

Bake it until it’s hot. I did 350 for like 20 minutes then 375 for 10 more because it wasn’t hot or brown enough.

Enjoy

 I almost put stewed tomatoes in it but my family would have had a shit fit. Still think I’m Martha Stewart? She can suck it. Tag whoever you think can follow this recipe.

Chicken Paprikash a la Roper

Ingredients

3 large chicken breasts
1 can of cream of mushroom soup
Some sour cream
1/2 bottle of French dressing
1 T. Spicy brown mustard
Paprika
Sliced turkey (lunchmeat)
Swiss cheese
Four slices of whole grain white bread
Mayo
———————————

Place chicken breasts in crock pot.

Mix cream of mushroom soup and some milk in a bowl until pourable. Oh, add milk to ingredient list. Also add approx. 3 tsp. of paprika to soup/milk mix. Then dump in some more because it doesn’t seem like enough.

Smell mixture, decide it needs more zest, and dump in tablespoon of spicy mustard and a half a bottle of French dressing. Congratulate yourself on your culinary genius.

Wait one hour. Put mayo, turkey, and swiss on bread and give to your family because they’ll never last until dinnertime because you forgot to plug in the crock pot.

Plug in crock pot and turn on low.

Cook approximately 3 1/2 hours or until chicken is cooked. Turn on high and stir in 3 dollops of sour cream. Let heat ten minutes and serve – we ate it with caesar salad and crescent rolls. Shoot superior look to your dog becuse you didn’t drop anything on the floor, like that little bastard was waiting for you to. Enjoy.

Phone Calls From Dad…

Bob (my Dad)

Ring…”Contracts this is Jennifer Grant”

Bob: “Hey”

Jen: “Word”

Silence…..

Jen: “Dad”

Bob: “What?”

Jen: “You called ME. What’s up?”

Bob: “I know, hold on a second, I’m doing something”

Jen: “Then why did you call me?”

Bob: “I said hold ON”

Background – Bob orders Latte from Starbucks drive thru

Waiting….

Bob: “Notice how they recognized me?”

Jen: “Yeah, that was weird. You didn’t even have to order.”

Bob: “Yeah, I come here a lot. The girls here are really sweet.”

Jen: “Dad?”

Bob: “What?”

Jen: “What the F%$^ do you want? I’m at work!”

Bob: “You know, I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that”

Jen: “Argh. Sorry. Dad, I’m seriously busy. What do you need?”

Bob: “You know, you’re just like Scott, (one of my brothers). Everytime I call you guys, you get all impatient and you’re ‘too busy’. Well I’m busy too you know. I’m 75 damn years old and I still work full time. As a matter of fact, I have a trade show I have to go to…”

Jen: “DAD!!”

Bob: “WHAT??”

Jen: “What. Do. You. Want.”

Bob: “I’m GETTING to it. You know, you’re so rude to me!”

Jen: “I don’t mean to be rude Dad. It’s just a total beating talking to you. No offense.”

Bob: “None taken. Not a picnic talking to you either.”

Jen: “Great. So seriously, Dad, I have to go…what do you need?”

Bob: “Did you know Dawn was having a baby?”

Jen: “Yeah, remember? You told me like, 4 months ago, because Barbara told you, but you weren’t supposed to tell anyone, but you told me anyway, so I had to wait until Dawn told me. I knitted her booties. I showed them to you when you were here.”

Bob: “OH yeah, that’s right. Jeez. It sucks getting old. Let me tell ya…not just the physical pain, but your mind…”

Jen: “Dad. Is that why you called?

Bob: “No no no, I was just thinking about it, couldn’t remember if I told you.”

Jen: “Ok. You did. I don’t mean to be rude but I swear to God I’m going to jump out of the fucking window if you don’t tell me why you called.”

Bob: “Uhhhhhhhhh………Nah, nevermind. Doesn’t matter.”

Jen: “Christ.”

Bob: “Oh yeah, there’s this…BITCH!” (maniacal laughter)….

CLICK

Jen: ‘BAM BAM BAM’ (beating head on desk)

Memories Of My Friend

 

When I first moved to Texas, the first person I met was my brother’s friend Jeff. I instantly loved him. He was wild and funny and nice and loved listening to Van Halen. He and my brother dragged me along with them everywhere. Six Flags, the movies, Putt Putt. I even remember just hanging out with him watching MTV, (good MTV, circa 1983…Separate Ways, Sharp Dressed Man, Burning Down The House stuff), because Texas was so damn hot in the summer all we wanted to do was stay inside.

Did I mention I loved him? I loved him with the fierceness and longing only truly understood by a 7th Grade Girl, so I made sure I was on my coolest behavior around him at all times.

The one thing Jeff (and my brother Geoff) knew how to do was make me laugh. I remember my brother intentionally making me laugh so hard in front of him one time that I not only shot milk out of my nose, but collapsed on the floor and peed my pants. Thereby dashing forever all dreams of our future marriage.

I had a tough time when I moved here, and one year found myself dateless to a dance… A critical year where I was learning that you could catch more popularity with miniskirts and humor than with leather jackets and fingers covered in bong resin. Jeff, surely at my brother’s prodding, asked me to this dance. It was a dream come true, despite the sullen teen looks I kept shooting the camera. Through the years, I often remembered that sweet gesture, and how despite collapsing in my kitchen in a heap of urine and milk, this wonderful guy made me feel so special.

There was various contact after that, but like any friendship, our connections got weaker, we all got older, and built our own lives. Jeff was one of those special people who never left my memory entirely though. My dream date, my wild friend, that hilarious soul. A few months ago, we reconnected on Facebook. We talked about getting together, and one night recently, he and his sweet wife Terry surprised me at an outing, and I remember that feeling when I saw him….complete and unabashed joy. There he was, the guy who made me laugh in his Monte Carlo when the mean girls of Plano got too much for me. The guy who hung out with me during those sweltering, endless summers. That crazy fool who would crank up ZZ Top so loud my teeth rattled as we laughed like loons on the way to whatever silly adventure we dreamed up for that day. This was the guy who influenced me to be a nut. Who showed me that silly didn’t mean stupid. Who helped me find humor in ridiculous things. We spent the night beaming at each other, swapping stories about our families, and ending it in anticipation of when we would do it again, vowing that the years would never again separate us…because we were family.

I received a call yesterday from his sister Laurie that Jeff, my Texas Touchstone, had gone into an outbuilding, tied a noose around his neck, and ended his life. The world as I knew it shifted forever, and with him he took a huge piece of my heart. I know this because I felt it crush in my chest, and wonder how I will ever fill the hole.

Right now, I don’t care why. I learned that in the last several years, he’d lost a baby, a wife, and his father. I’m sickened at the thought of the dark place he found himself. I’m not angry, frustrated, perplexed, confused, or all of the other emotions I went through yesterday after hearing this news. Tonight I went to his funeral. Tonight, I mourn the loss of my friend, and pray that he is not in pain anymore. Tonight, I said goodbye. Tonight my whole world changed. I will always love you Jeff. Thank you for all that you were to me.

Conversations With My Dad

(Ring)
Jen: Hello?

Bob: Hey did I tell you about Aunt Sheri and her glaucoma and the blood in her eye….

Jen: Who is this??

Bob: It’s Dad. Dummy.

Jen: I know, I was just kidding. Who else starts a conversation like that.

Bob: Ok so did I tell you or what?

Jen: Yes, you told me.

Bob: Oh. Ok. Well we’re still waiting for the test results, and there’s all kinds of shit going on there…

Jen: Dad?

Bob: What?

Jen: I’m sick. Could you make this quick?

Bob: What’s wrong with you?

Jen: Glaucoma. Just kidding I have a stomach bug or something.

Bob: You’re hilarious. Anyway, her daughter in law keeps calling her and wants her to sign over power of attorney, and my sister’s like, “What? I’m not dying” and Joann says that she’s getting older and it will just be easier so if in the event something happens they can take care of the bills…”

Jen: DAD!

Bob: WHAT??

Jen: I need to go. I don’t feel well.

Bob: You don’t look well, either.

Jen: Funny

Bob: As a matter of fact, you should really see a doctor about that…

Jen: You’re hilarious. Can I call you later?

Bob: Yeah, I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stand to see family arguing about caring for an elderly parent and trying to get their hands on stuff…

Jen: Well, you don’t have to worry about that because when you’re old and infirm, you’re staying here. See you in 6 months. And you don’t have any stuff I want. All of your stuff sucks.

Bob: Well, I have bad news for you….I shit the bed.

Jen: Well, I have worse news for you…I don’t change sheets. Enjoy your stay.

Bob: Bitch!

Jen: Gotta go Dad.

Bob: Maniacal laughter….click

Note to Jen Ragan Smith…Can’t Wait To Visit…

Dear Jen,

I’m so looking forward to visiting you in Austin this weekend. You are so sweet to ask if I had any dietary restrictions, what kinds of beverages I’d like in the house, etc. It made me start thinking about some other teensy requests that I have. You were so adamant that my comfort was paramount during my stay, so I would REALLY appreciate if you could indulge me with the following. I’m sure it’s nothing different than any requests you usually receive from overnight company.
1. Please only communicate with me via Walkie-Talkie. If you don’t have them, 2 cans and a string will suffice.
2. Please convert everything into the metric system, especially guesstimates of how long it is til dinner, bed, and the distance to the nearest water tower. (I will forward the metric system I personally created to reflect time…please memorize it, because if you get it wrong and I get confused, I’ll start screaming and pissing myself).
3. I can’t sleep unless someone re-enacts the signing of the Texas Constitution, (in full period costume).
4. Between 8am and 8pm, I really need “me” time, so if you could arrange to be elsewhere, that’d be great.
5. My sheets have to be washed in the tears of victimized Asians daily. I’ll bring my own for the first night.
6. I’ll need you to let me establish a “pee corner” of my choosing.
7. Of course, I’ll have my slave with me, (Senor Gimp). Please don’t address him directly or even look at him. He can’t answer you through the zipper-mask anyway. After a while you won’t even realize he’s there.
8. I’ll need time to unwind every day. I’m bringing my own gun case and red paint, but you’ll need to let me know in advance where I can paint targets. Indoor or outdoor, doesn’t matter to me. I’m easy.
9. I will need 24 hour access to the chickens. You can’t be there when I’m there.
10. The bathrooms must have loofahs that contain the dust of ground meteorites. If you don’t have any, don’t insult me by trying to fool me with carbonite or quartz or any other dust. I’ll know the difference.
11. Senor Gimp will only stay calm if he wakes up to the sound of a Didgeridoo.

I wanted to give you plenty of time to get anything you needed to adhere to my requests, which is why I’m sending them to you today. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

Love, Jen

Why I’d Make A Great Daisy Scout Leader

I’m trying to get Emma into The Daisy program, which all good moms know is the pre-Brownies, which is the pre-Girl Scouts. I’m pretty sure this was my missing link, so I figure, unless I want Emma to wind up smoking weed behind the wall at the Clark McDonalds, I’d best get started now.

I received an email from the regional coordinator, basically telling me to chill out, and that information regarding the Daisies would be communicated at the start of the fall Kindergarten semester. Then she asked me if I was interested in becoming a Troop Leader. Here’s my response:

Dear Ms. Shoemaker,

You bet your ass I want to be a Troop Leader! It sounds like the Girl Scouts, unlike The Texas Department of Corrections, are down with the idea of “second chances”. I do see you require a criminal background check, but seeing as though I consider “Girl Scouts” a part of “society”, I assume that I’ve paid my debt to you. I’d like to be able to provide a letter of recommendation, but my asshole P.O. is probably still bent out of shape about my recent positive drug test, which I EXPLAINED to him had to be a contact high from all of the weed my husband smokes. But don’t worry, he won’t be allowed at any of the Daisy meetings. Fuckhead sleeps all days on Saturdays usually anyway. My point is, legally he has to be 100 yards away from children as it is, so I will send him to Centennial or something when we’re having the meetings, no problem.

Speaking of meetings, I have a lot of great ideas for Daisy activities. I think it’s important that the girls learn real life skills that will benefit them when they’re adults. Since the Daisies are all in Kindergarten, they are plenty old enough to be shooting and gutting deer, (with supervision, obviously!). There are so many life lessons in just that one activity, I can’t even tell you. Providing food for your family, stealthiness, aim, shooting stuff, killing stuff… The list goes on and on! Plus, once they’ve stripped the carcasses, they can bleach the bones and use them for art projects or to carve their own weapons or something. After they’ve really got a feel for it, I envision an entire “Daisies Do Lord Of The Flies” weekend, where we just drop them off at Possum Kingdom Lake for the weekend and let them shoot and kill their own food and create their own government and stuff. Seriously, how awesome would that be? I dont know how many Daisy petals they’d earn for coming out of that weekend as the Leader but I’d have to bet It. Is. A. Ton.

Anyway, I will complete all of the paperwork and will wait to hear from you. I am SO excited to become a Daisy troop leader I literally just crapped my pants! 

Regards,

Jennifer Grant

Conversations With Emma

Emma and I were watching TV. The following conversation ensued. If only I had the body language and intonation on video.

“Mom, I have to tell you something.”
“OK.”
“It’s important. You need to mute the TV.”
“Um. OK.”
**mute**
“OK, hit me.”
“I don’t want to hit you.”
“I mean tell me what you wanted to tell me”.
“Well, it’s about Aidan”.
“From school?”.
“From my class. He told me he loved me”.
“He what?”.
“He told me he loved me”.
“In what context did he tell you this?”.
“What?”
“What were you doing when he said that?”
“Well, I helped him with something, and he told me he loved me”.
“So what did you say?”.
“I didn’t say anything. I just stared at him…..why are you laughing?”.
“Because that visual is funny”.
“Mom this is serious”.
“Hmm. Ok. So, is he your boyfriend?”.
“Uhh..no.”
“Do you think he wants to be your boyfriend?”
“Oh yeah, he totally wants to. I think”.
“Did he ask you to be his girlfriend?”.
“Not yet”.
“Do you want to be his Girlfriend?”
“Yeah. He loves me”.
“Well, that’s important. What about Diego?”.
“Diego is NOT my boyfriend”.
“Well, you always say how cute he is. What if Diego gets mad at Aidan for being your boyfriend”.
“Aidan’s not my boyfriend”.
“Yeah but if he asks you and you say yes he will be.”
**pause**
“I didn’t think of that”.
“Yeah, you gotta think ahead”.
“Mom? Boys are not all I do in Kindergarten”.
**pause**
“OK. I say we shut this down and go to bed”.