To know me is to love me. Or strongly dislike me. I’m like a hot cup of coffee on a hot day. Hence the name Scrappie-Momma. Where did I get this name from? No, I do not scrap book. I tried and you want to know how much I completed? One page out of a 500 page book my darling husband bought for me after I declared “Oh Honey I can’t WAIT to stay home with the new baby and scrapbook, cook novella cuisine dinners for you nightly and who knows maybe I’ll even start gardening or something really domestic.” You see, I had just signed a generous severance package from a bank I was working at as a Human Resource manager and hubs was a little nervous about what was going to happen after that severance ran out and I was all comfy and cozy with new baby and my fabulous scrap book creations. Clearly we will be able to survive on my crafty “craftmanship” scrapbook creations won’t we? That story to be told another day.. He said one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because he thought I was going to be a high powered executive in Human Resources. Oops.
Okay, so now you know Scrappie does not come from scrap-booking. Do you remember the show Friends? Well there was an episode when Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie or Scrappy (the spell check thingy majiggy keeps saying scrappie is misspelled. whatevs, now this whole sentence is underlined in red..) Anyways, Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie because Monica “scrapped” her way back in to Phoebes life after Phoebes decided she did not like her! Well that’s kind of me in a nutshell. If I like you and you do not care for my presence, hang around, because I will warm your soul like a hot cup of coffee. You just might need to wait for it to get cold outside (or go into a well air conditioned building) before you actually enjoy my presence.
Today was a typical Scrappie-Momma type of day. I tend to run about 6-8 minutes behind schedule, I am not usually “late” but because of my ability to navigate this fake,extra-time sequence in to all my clocks, and tell myself “oh I have an extra 6-8 minutes” , I’m usually hurriedly completing easy tasks in a frantic fashion. For instance, I have thick hair. No thick is an understatement. I have hair that could be used to make a chain link fence. I could shield bullets with my helmet of hair. I have had it thinned and feathered but it just grows back in thicker and I then I have a thick, overgrown mullet. Ask any hair dresser who has cut my hair they have all exclaimed “DAMN you have a lot of hair, I didn’t realize how thick your hair was, wow, we might need a few more minutes with your next appointment.” OK, maybe they didn’t say Damn, but I can tell from their expression they want to and they also want to charge me more for dulling their scissors with my chain-link metal hair.
My point being, I was running late and I was trying to get 4 big chunky necklaces around my neck (CHUNKY CLUNKY jewels are IN my FRIENDS, and Friends from Friends too.) and they all got caught in the chain-links of my hair. I broke one and managed to get two off, but they are mangled and tangled together sitting on my husbands side of the sink for him to fix , after he gets home from a long trip because that was what he was longing to do, after sitting on a plane, and in Atlanta traffic for five hours. Seriously, how does one BREAK a necklace in her hair? Me. due in part because I have mutant-Ly thick hair and due in part because I built in 6-8 minutes of time that never existed in the first place. Typical Scrappie or Scrappy or Crappy behavior.
I made it to my destination a few minutes late but not absurdly late, and my day started to even out time-wise; however, the rush of adrenaline from fighting with my chain-link-helmet-sheild hair or from the 650 cups of coffee, fueled me into wide-eyed Scrappie Momma mode. So I pulled out of a parking lot and admittedly even thought I did glance to the right, I didn’t see the Prius honking it’s horn of justice , no scratch that, laying ON THE HORN for 30 seconds straight, with I think both middle fingers stuck out the window because I had inadvertently cut him/her off. I could not tell the gender because the face was blocked by the affectionate traffic gestures of love. Maybe I was his/her Valentines? I’m not, by any means, condoning my driving skills and I want to apologize to the man/women I cut off, It was NOT intentional. My helmet hair got in the way of my peripherals.
Lastly, I made a stop at TJMAXX Home-Goods because we are re-decorating my sons room and I thought what the heck , they might have some distressed antique /industrial looking furniture that , ok , ok momma really wants and almost tween son could give two shakes of a lamb tale about. I could bring home old hospital furniture and he’d be like “sup” “looks good moms”. Anyways as I was frantically taking pictures (and Texting to my husband who was in a car with his boss) of all the AMAZING DEALS on SOLID WOOD vintage-couture-industrial-shabby-chic-antique pieces that now I was kind of salivating because I was thinking “Hey this might look great in the ……..” I bumped into someone and my Starbucks Soy Latte splashed all over another piece of furniture (do not worry it was not one of the pieces I wanted for my son/living/tea/guest room. Phew.
I am not a person who splashes and doesn’t tell so I did run to the front to alert the very disenchanted staff and management who then proceed to call “Josh” over the paging system: “WE HAVE A CLEAN UP IN THE BACK. SOME LADY SPILLED HER STARBUCKS.” Josh and his attending (I’m not kidding, he had an assistant ) came rushing to my assistance. Thankfully , the splash was still “active” and my latte was made with organic soy milk so, like it was Vegan, Paleo, Atkins, South Beach and Nutrisystem approved AND gluten/pesticide free; therefore it did not harm the furniture. Josh, myself and his attending were all very relieved that I did not scar the cute little end table from Morocco.
In closing, the collateral damage and klutzy sins of Scrappie Momma was atoned for. I said a quick “I’m sorry God I will really try to pay more attention when I am driving and I do have a big ‘no Texting’ sticky note on my dashboard, so please let Jesus know that I do have that sign on my dashboard and I do refer to it quite a bit.” Although I wasn’t Texting (omg texting isn’t a word yet??, it’s coming up RED as misspelled…) at the time of the Prius-Valentine-Rendevouz- I just hadn’t clipped my helmet back enough. But no excuses, I will do better. Finally, an apology to Josh, and his attending for quickly rushing in to clean up the remnants of my sweet & salty soy latte. I have to admit , I was in mourning the loss of the rest of my latte because that was the frothiest soy latte I had had in a long time.
Starbucks tomorrow? I promise, I will look both ways before turning out onto the street and I will not bring my frothy delight-fulness into any home goods or boutiques. Peace and Happy Early Valentines Day!
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This blog is like the ridiculous sweater I bought at Anthropologie a few years ago. It was on sale and the sales lady told me "it looks awesome on you." It's the most bizarre sweater, and whether it looked good on me or not, is highly debatable. Like these blogs, I look at them at say "Yeesh, what was I thinking,," or laugh or bath in their cathartic qualities. The sweater stays for the same reasons.