Sauce Guy is clueless

First...let me point out that I'll bet MONEY that I'm the only person on the planet that has said the sentence "Sauce guy is clueless". I always enjoy those small moments of thinking that I'm totally unique...

ANYWAY...I've mentioned before...somewhere in this blog...I think...that I work for a doctors office. We have a variety of sales people who come to our office to peddle thier "stuff". They're all really nice and usually all ridiculously good looking and young. And they all bring us LUNCH. Really good lunches with really big cookies...I digress. After awhile, they all sort of run together with their company shirts and free pens and sticky note pads. Once in a while, one of them will do something to distinguish himself. One of those guys is Sauce Guy.

Sauce Guy sells some sort of surgical instrument. Couldn't tell you what he sells, but frighteningly enough, I know that he collects mustards. Yes. Mustard. He loves mustard and collects jars of interesting mustards (not interesting JARS, interesting MUSTARDS) and has a whole mustard collection at home (cough geek cough). One day, he brought one of our surgeons a jar of hot giardinara sauce. The surgeon LOVED it and put on everything from pizza to donuts. Okay, I'm lying about the donuts, but the guy put it in SOUP one day and that's where I draw the line. That's just weird! But hey...he's a surgeon...so whatever. Anyway, from that point onward we called this sales man SAUCE GUY! Hey Sauce Guy is coming for lunch. Hey Sauce Guy brought us a ten pound tub of grapes! Hey, we love Sauce Guy!

Sauce Guy (real name is Rob) came for lunch today and brought the required really big cookies. His wife is expecting a baby in November. We quickly got off the subject of surgical equipment and honed in the whole baby thing. He says "so I'm pretty new to this father thing...can I try to make her laugh during labor?" The new nurse in our office is a former OB Labor and Delivery nurse and without missing a beat she replied "not if you don't want your penis ripped off with her bare hands".

You DIP!

Set the scene: Emma is wearing pajamas with wildly striped bottoms and a top that says "Miss Fancy Pants". Eric is sitting on the sofa with his laptop watching Emma who is eating cookies at the coffee table....and ACTION!

Eric: Emma...what are you doing?
Emma: Eatin cookies and dancing...see it's ballet (she twirls with her hands over her head)
Eric: No...I mean with those cookies...are you dunking them?
Emma: NO
Eric: Well you're dunking your Oreos in that cup....what's in that cup?
Emma: Lemonade (twirl)
Eric: You're dunking your Oreos in Lemonade?
Emma: NOOOOO.....(twirl) I'm DIPPING my cookies!

18 year old logic

So Eric's friend Ethan has recently gone away to college. Eric is staying here and is working and attending community college for two years. Today I asked him if Ethan liked school.

Eric: I think he's liking it better. He says he drinks everyday.
Me: Oh...that's not good. He's killing brain cells that he needs for school.
Eric: The way Ethan sees it as that he has too many of them anyway and he's weeding out the weak ones.

She already knows how to deal with men

Yesterday, Emma went to my parents house for a playdate with my nephew, Sean. Nice of them to give my brother and his wife and Joe and myself some time to do something "sans kids". Emma and Sean ADORE each other. He's seven and they have a ball together. ANYWAY...Dad decided to take them to the village park. When it was time to leave the park, Emma had one of her meltdowns. Arm-flailin-screamin-leg-kickin high speed come apart. So, Dad had to give her a swat on the bottom. They went home and Emma of course was still weeping. Dad told Mom what happened and he felt just terrible for having to have swatted her behind. Mom talked to Emma and explained to her that she had to listen to Poppie. She told Emma that she should tell Poppie that she was sorry. Emma avoided it for as long as she could, but finally gave my Dad a hug and told him that she was sorry. Then she looked at him with huge tear filled blue eyes and said "Please don't make me cry again". And that was it. He melted into a pile of grandfather goo. She'll be good with her husband someday. She already knows what she has to do.

Don't Know Much bout Geography

Joe: Can you get to the ocean from Chicago?
Chris: Ummmm...
Joe: You know...by water
Chris: Well there's the St Lawrence Seaway and the Mississippi River
Joe: Which oceans do those go to?
Chris: The Atlantic and the Gulf of Me-hi-co
Joe: What about the Pacific?
Chris: Gotta carry your canoe on your head a really long ways.