For the Record

Hi everyone, my name is Dantzel and I grew up with an electric can opener. Some girls grow up with handheld ones and that's their loss. I'm not that kind of girl.

How Old Are You?

This one goes out to all the guys who have ever had the special pleasure of having to TEACH THEIR WIVES HOW TO USE A CAN-OPENER.

I Know You're Not, Thanks

This one goes out to all the ladies who have ever had the unique joy of hearing their husband say "I'm not that kind of girl."

Is This Customary for Customs?

After we got married, we went on a cruise that included a one-day stop in Mexico. Thus, we had to get passports and go through customs when we arrived back in LA. I thought the way they did customs was so strange. We stood in a line to show them our passports and to submit in writing what we bought and how much it was worth. Then we walked through this big garage that was right before the exit. There were little groups of customs officials scattered around. I suppose if we wanted to we could have just walked really fast or snuck by them. A group of three of them started to have a conversation with us. They asked us what we did and how our trip was. They were surprisingly friendly for government employees. Dantzel mentioned that I had gotten sick. Their tone changed and they asked us if we had purchased any medications. You could tell they were just trying to get us to “spill the beans” about what illegal stuff we were bringing in. I guess they figured if they were friendly to us that we would get comfortable with them and share the same secrets that best buds share with each other. I mean, really, if we were trying to smuggle something we knew wasn’t allowed, why on earth would we tell them we had it? It’s not like they searched our bags or anything. I don’t know, I just thought the whole thing was a little odd. Anyone else have similar experiences?

Gross Baby

So, I used to be relatively healthy and eat fruits and vegetables and also weird things like banana peppers which, while not everyone's cup of tea, are not junk food or anything. Now that I'm possessed, it's a whole different story. We've had the goldfish phase, the turkey-and-whoppers-together phase, the key lime yogurt phase, and right now we're onto grapefruits and chocolate milk. (Not together. Come on.) But probably the grossest phase so far took place between the key lime yogurt phase and the grapefruit one.
One day I was sitting at my desk trying to decide when to eat lunch and I got really hungry, so I sat there and thought about it in order to figure out what Mr. Fetus wanted today. "Do you want the nice key lime yogurt I brought you?" I said.
"No!"
"But you love key lime yogurt."
"Not anymore," said the baby. "Now I like donuts."
I frowned. "I am not gaining 60 pounds for you. That's ridiculous. You just want a mom that can't chase you when you do something bad because she has to roll instead of walk."
"I want donuts."
"But you love key lime yogurt!" I insisted. "Come on, don't do this to me. We still have half a container of goldfish at home because after a week of eating nothing but goldfish, you suddenly decided you didn't like them anymore. In the middle of eating them."
Mr. Fetus said, "Give me a donut. I own you."
I would like to bear my testimony that this is true. Mr. Fetus and I spend a lot of time over the toilet every morning barfing our guts up, just because Dustin came within breathing distance.
"Okay," I sighed. "We will get you a donut and then you will shut up."
"With mayonnaise," said the baby.
"No way! Dumb baby, that's not how you eat donuts. We need to get you born and properly socialized so you don't do stuff like that in public."
So I went and got a maple bar and it was the best food of my life. (Don't judge me.) I had to be very careful walking past the mayonnaise packets in the Twilight Zone, but I managed not to give in because okay, mayonnaise on top of donuts...why don't I just eat shortening instead? Or garbage? It's probably healthier and better-tasting. My tummy thought it sounded sooo good, but my brain thought it sounded sooo retarded. So I didn't do it and I am very proud of myself.
Unfortunately the bizarre craving lasted for a whole week. I never did give in. Now we're safely in the grapefruit and chocolate milk zone and it's a lot more pleasant. And I realized that the baby is just jealous of me because he craves all these things but never gets to taste them and that's the joy of eating through an umbilical cord, haha baby. Sweet revenge.

Bird Brain

So, I turned out to be a real Father Theresa the other day. My wife said that she saw a little bird with a broken leg when she was walking home from work and she was really sad about it. I said, "Let's go save it! If we don't do anything this bird will die and it will be all our fault!"

After a little searching, I found it in this parking lot. It wasn't pretty, to put it nicely. The beak looked like it was upside down. I used a small bucket to scoop it up. It was obviously very frightened. We tried to contact some type of animal shelter or wildlife conservation place so that we could drop off this bird, but nobody seemed to want it. Evidently there are no wildlife rehab centers in Utah. Crazy, right?

Eventually we fed it some raw hamburger through a syringe. This took some effort because at first it didn't know what the heck was going on. But after trying to force this food into its mouth for some time it figured it out and ate a whole bunch. We put some cotton balls in the bucket to keep it warm during the night. Surprisingly, he survived the night and we fed him some more raw hamburger. But alas, upon arriving home from work, we found that he had clearly given up the ghost. Maybe it was the 9 hours without food and water or the 95 degree heat. At least we tried, right? We take comfort in the fact that all birds go to heaven.

Not Sure What to Think...

My husband informs me that sometimes men have absolutely nothing going on inside their heads...not often, but sometimes. Absolute blank. He wants to assure you all that he's not talking about 24/7 but simply once in a while. However I think all ladies everywhere will agree with me that the fact that it happens AT ALL is mind-boggling. Yesterday, for example, we were discussing this because he had been looking at the ceiling for a good five minutes and seemed completely entertained by it. I said, "what are you thinking about?" and he said "nothing. Sometimes guys think of nothing." After squeezing a little harder for information he admitted that a pattern in the ceiling reminded him of a warthog. "And...?" I said. But that was all, I am told. Nothingnothingnothingnothing WARTHOG nothingnothingnothingnothing. I informed him that as a female I would immediately think of ten different things at once, including how much I like pork, how glad I am that I am not Jewish, how funny I thought Pumba from the Lion King was when I was eleven (okay, and still today) and the fact that another spot in the corner looks like Abraham Lincoln. He blinked twice.
Now, in a dramatic turn of events, this same boy is crushing my pre-natal pill to a powder so that i can swallow it without barfing...and saying out loud to himself/me: "I'm like an ancient Indian grinding maize! Maize is corn, I'm grinding corn! Deny it!" and so on and so forth. Is this the same person? He says I'm over dramatizing, but let's face it...I'm not the one who goes off on Native American fantasies just because I happen to be squishing a pill with a spoon (for the record I think it's cute. Also love the early-morning Phil Collins songs.) So I guess I don't really believe this non-thinking theory and would like to get more information from Men Who Know(ahaha Sis. Beck.) Support here, anyone?

Fajita Frustration

So, the other day I was eating some leftover fajitas that my lovely wife had made. They were really good, by the way. I glanced at the tortilla package, whose brand name will remain anonymous (maybe all tortilla packages are like this, but this is the first time I’ve noticed.) It had written on it “Can Be Refrigerated.” Why on earth would they care to print this? Isn’t every food item able to be put into a fridge? I can’t think of anything that would be negatively affected if put into a refrigerator. If they meant that these tortillas will last longer or taste better if they are refrigerated, then they should have put something like “Refrigeration is recommended” or “For best quality, refrigerate after opening.” It’s like a pen maker printing “Can be placed in a pen cup on your desk” on all the pens they make. Yes we know that we have the ability to put tortillas in the fridge and in the cupboard and that we can probably eat them too. Why do you feel the need to tell us?

You Were The Borg, Resistance Was Futile

Yes, we have assimilated ourselves into blog culture...mostly so Dustin will have a place to complain about tortilla labels, and I will have a place to complain about being pregnant. Because really, who talks directly to their spouse about these things anymore? It is much better to put it on the interwebs. Dustin just gave me a high five for using that word.