Freaky Friday

Before my husband left for work this week, he asked if I wanted to join him as he ran some last minute errands. We like to squeeze in as much time together as possible because we never know how long he is going to be absent.

Traditionally our dates include dinner and a movie to be followed up with a rousing argument about why one of us has the worst taste in movies, ever. It's our 'been together almost 22 years' version of foreplay. 

However, if my husband wanted to get romantic at the local farm equipment supply store, I wasn't going to argue. The farm equipment supply store is my crack. I don't know why. I'm a city girl. But there is something about troughs and tractor parts that get me hot and bothered. 

So much so, that upon leaving that store, when my husband asked, "When was the last time you were lubed?" I answered him.

Only to notice he didn't respond in the manner in which I had thought he would.

Because he was too busy staring at me, mouth agape, with a horrified look on his face.

"What is the matter with you, woman? I meant, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD YOUR VEHICLE'S OIL CHANGED?"


In my defense, you married me dude. The fault is clearly yours.

So my oil was changed, in the most literal sense and my husband wouldn't look me in the eyes. Every time I started to speak to him, he'd just shake his head and mutter under his breath.

Some oil changes are more fun than others.

Luckily, I had the video of the yelling goats to amuse me. 

(Also, if you thread the sound into your vehicle's stereo system like I did, you can entertain the entire lube shop. Much to your husband's chagrin.)

I'm now good for another 5000 kilometers before I need any sort of lubing. 

Oh, the bad jokes just keep writing themselves.


Earlier this week I stumbled on some forgotten videos I had posted, (basically my entire YouTube channel) and as I watched them, I was stunned to notice just two years ago I was taller than Nash. Who is currently 6 foot one inch. Or at least he was the last time he was measured.

The difference two years makes. And still, he hasn't learned to smile for his mother.

I had forgotten there was a time when I didn't have to look up while talking to my kid. Weird.

Upon this epiphany, I've decided to try something new over here on the B-side. Every Friday, or until I forget or get bored, I'm going to highlight some of the best moments I've captured over on Instagram. (I am not a good photographer and I am worse at Instagram. THIS IS SUCH A TREAT FOR Y'ALL!)

Mostly because my kids are 15 and 16 and my daughter will only be with us for one more year before she leaves for college. Nash has two years before I drop him off at some random dorm room.

This parenting gig? It's fleeting.

Also, puppies don't stay puppies for long.


God. I'm a mommy blogger with out a mom blog. I CANT QUIT.

I need an intervention.

In the meantime, look at these photos.



This boy? Looks EXACTLY like the boy I was dating at 16. It's totally weird.

Abbott. I swear he's still a puppy.

The size of a 16 week old paw. STILL A PUPPY.

He knows his mother is a dork. And he loves her for it.

Knox's first photobomb. I'm so proud he's inherited my dorkiness.

Have a great weekend everyone. May your inner dork shine through.