You know, sometimes I think we sort of have our crap together around here. Sometimes I think we’re Not That Weird. Or rather, if we’re weird, we’re weird like Everyone Else now. We have our quirks. We have our adorable dysfunctions. We try to love each other well, and we succeed and fail and succeed and fail, but we keep practicing. So I look around these days, and I figure we’re Normal.
Like, it’s been a while since a Woolsey child surreptitiously undressed himself in the church sanctuary and then streaked through the fellowship hall mid-church-potluck. Not to shock anyone, you understand. Just because Clothes Suck and being naked is Better.
It’s been a while since my kids tried to see how high, over days and days, they could fill a bathtub with urine.
And it’s been a while since I tried to thaw frozen eggs in my bra. Or taught my kids to draw on the furniture. Or fixed a hole in the wall with a bigger, better hole (although I should note I still intend to do that stairs project, and Greg’s leaving on a trip soon so it’s anyone’s guess what happens next.)
Overall, though, I feel like we’re just like all the rest of y’all. Slugging it out day to day. Talking about anal beads around the dinner table. You know, the usual.
But then someone comes over and remarks on something like my dog, who sits on my other dog’s face.
Continuously.
And by “continuously,” I mean “Every Minute.”
Like it’s her Place.
And then I realize NOPE. We’re as weird as ever. Even the pets.
Nyx is like Zoey’s personal awning.
Perhaps that will give you context for the fact that I keep walking around the house with Sit on My Face stuck in my head.
[The sound on this video doesn’t start until 10ish seconds in, so don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear anything ‘til then.]
It’s mostly just the first line, over and over, on endless repeat, which is Greg’s fault because every time he sees the dogs he says, “Sit on my face and tell me that you love me.” 🙄
I caught myself mumble-singing it at the grocery store yesterday. Of course, I didn’t realize I was singing, and definitely not audibly, until the produce guy looked at me weird. I’m not sure what Emily Post would say about the proper way to apologize to a grocer for propositioning him for lewd acts with song next to the potatoes, but if it’s looking at him like this…
…and then like this…
… then I nailed it.
In conclusion, Greg is a bad influence.
P.S. I’m sorry I posted about anal beads last time, and now I’m writing about face-sitting. I usually try to keep it classier than that. You know… classier than anal beads followed immediately by tongue tickling the lady wattle. I usually try to space it out a bit. But I failed even my low standards today. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m tired. Sometimes that happens.
P.P.S. I feel like now is the best time to tell you I run a small number of retreats each year. Because who DOESN’T want to chat about relaxing retreats right after chatting about face-sitting? As I’ve mentioned previously, I AM SUCH A GOOD MARKETER!
Truly, though, one of my very, very favorite things to do is hang out with members of our incredible, worldwide community and offer rest and respite from our regular lives. I would LOVE to have you join me.
{HINT: A retreat is an excellent thing to ask for for Christmas! If you need more info, always feel free to contact our retreat registrar, Maggie Peterson, at petersonm1@spu.edu.}
Click here for general retreat information.
Or, if you want to head straight to the registration pages, you can register via my farm website, CAIRNS FARM:
6 responses to “Sometimes I Think We’re Not That Weird. Then I Realize NOPE.”
Pretty sure I need to attend a retreat now. Because MONTY PYTHON.
WOW! I can’t tell you how often that song pops into my head (and has for like 30+ years) w/o anyone sitting on another’s face tp prompt me! But, thanks a lot – now it’s dancing through my head!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
You are just exactly the right amount of Weird and it is why we love reading this random silliness so much.
When it comes to music I am about as diverse as they come, with everything from Mozart to Meatloaf to Kenny Rogers to BlackLiteDistrict (my current absolute fave) on my list.
Can’t say I’ve heard that particular tune but I relate. lol So if you see a 40-something rolling up in a rustbucket old minivan, head banging to Cold as Ice, you’ll know you’re not alone. 😉
We do it interspecies-style at our house. I can’t insert a picture here but I took one last week of the dog resting her head between the spread legs of the cat. They slept like that. I was like, wow, Norbert (the cat) *really* trusts Tilly (the dog).
I seriously love you and absolutely needed this laugh in the dark tonight!!! Thank you!