Oil Change Conspiracy

I am pretty sure as soon as a woman brings a car to a dealership there is a little flashing light that goes off to notify the mechanics. *inexperienced car lady approaching, up-sell in full force"  And before you get all offended, this is directed at myself and other women who leave car stuff to their husbands, boyfriends, brothers, Dad's etc. So settle down. 

I know nothing about cars, hell I am the first to admit that I am a terrible driver, and I know 99% of people will agree with me. The other 1% are either too young to know better, or drunk. I never took drivers Ed. I failed my driving test about 7 times. I didn't even get my license till I was almost 21 and I think only because the instructors at the license bureau finally got tired of seeing me and finally passed me. With a 71. (70 is passing).  It always seemed a little fishy when I showed up for my driving test and the instructors were huddled together pulling out straws. 

I am pretty sure you will be shocked that I can't even drive a stick shift. Many people have tried, and failed, to teach me. I can't drive a car that requires me to use both feet and hands at the same time. I need one foot free to tap along to music and the other hand free to flip off people who honk at me because I am driving 50 in the fast lane. Plus, shifting gears makes really weird crunching noises which only results in having to buy new car parts. 

You would think with all the brothers I have I would have learned a little something about cars. Nope. Mostly, they just wanted me to stay far away so I didn't hurt myself. I am pretty sure if I had to, I could change a tire, but to save an expensive hospital bill, we pay for roadside assistance. 

So, I am getting an oil change in the Ford, and our Edge is one year old, excellent shape and we get oil changes regularly. Sure enough the guy tries to sell me on all sorts of things, most of which I am pretty sure are made up. And He keeps calling me Veronica, so I call him by a completely wrong name every time he comes out to tell me that my coffee filter is dirty. Which is ridiculous because I don't even drink coffee. 

And the only tv in the waiting room is on ESPN. As soon as I find the remote I am changing it to lifetime. If I have to sit here in misery then only a lifetime made for tv show starring a washed up 80's star will help. Not because I want to watch it, but the expressions of the men having to listen to it would be hilarious. 

When You're Sliding into Home....

And your pants are full of foam, diarrhea cha cha cha.

Remember this song? If not, you either didn't have brothers, or elementary school classmates who sang this, and the other 4 or so verses to this crappy tune.

I can not understand why kids (and some grown men) think the word or action of fart, poop, toot etc. is hysterical. Whenever one of the kids says one of these words they can't stop laughing and then it's a 20 minute discussion/more laughing session about it.  

Men are proud of their farts and poops. They congratulate each other on farts like they are nominees for an award. And what's with the amount of time they spend in the bathroom? Why do they get a half hour of privacy, but the second us ladies go in, they or the kids are knocking at the door wanting something. The kids could be playing down the street, or taking a nap, but sure as shit the second you lock that door, there they are.  And men, the smell. Omg. How do you sit in that?! And for the record, please do not spray that scented air fresher around after your ass explosion. The only thing that does is enhance the shit smell. Just turn on the fan, or open the window and shut the door until the all clear signal is given and it's safe to go in. 

But women are a whole different animal. 

I know we all do it. We all fart, too. but we will hold it in and sit through the worst gas pains and cramps not to fart in front of our friends. Even the lady in the public bathroom stall who is pretending to cough and/or blow your nose in the attempt to hide the fact you are popping. I know what you are doing, no one spends more time then they have to in a public stall.  But generally us girls don't talk about it (well most of us) like the men do. But we will talk about periods, tampons, cramps, yeast infections, etc. like its nothing, to anyone, even strangers.

I wish I could be on a regular poop schedule, at the same time every day. It would be great. Most men are like clockwork, and I envy that schedule. I would love if people would be like, hey where is Ronnie, and the response would be "oh it's her poop time". I want a set schedule of 20 uninterruppted time every day! Instead, I just have to wait until my body decides that itstimetogorightnow and hope that there is a bathroom nearby.  If it happens and I am at work, I wonder how long I have left of the day, because we might be able to hold it until I get home. And then as soon as I get in the bathroom, I get 5 constantly interrupted minutes to myself, unless I forget to lock the door, and then it's a poop party, and the kids are wandering around me like flies.

And I am so very thankful that the kids are finally old enough to wipe away their own poop. Yes, I still check to make sure, because I don't want them to have dingleberries, and cleaning poop stains are a pain in the, well, butt (haha). But the fact they get the brunt of it makes me happy that I don't have to do it anymore. I fully support early potty training. Poopy diapers on kids over 2 is gross. Especially if they don't tell you right away and they sit in it and spread it around. Bleh.