BLOG: 6's & 7'S
How do you tell your son congratulations on finishing his final comp exams toward his PhD? I guess you could send wine or flowers or even a card. But I am 1) broke and 2) not your average mom. I decided to punk him instead. Knowing that my son is an Obama supporter, I decided to send him text messages from a fake service called 'Mitt by the Minute'. The problem was he'd recognize my phone number and I'm not phone savvy enough to hide it. I needed help, and I found that help in my friend, Erica Lucke Dean, who is 1) a prankster herself and 2) has a cell phone with a Georgia area code. Perfect. So while my son sat in a bar with his peeps celebrating his academic success, Erica and I were communicating via the computer and she sent the first message:
Thank you for subscribing to Mitt By the Minute. A fact a minute about Mitt Romney. To unsubscribe, reply with f9877OIT43226.
Which was followed by a 'fact' (that we made up) every minute until he finally went completely over the edge.
Of course he tried texting back 'stop' and 'unsubscribe' and everything else he could think of, but his texts were met with "I'm sorry, that response is not recognized" followed by another 'fact'.
It took about ten minutes before I got the phone call.
"Mom, I've got a problem. Someone keeps sending me these little tidbits about Mitt Romney every minute, and I can't unsubscribe. It keeps saying 'unrecognized' when I try. I called T-mobile and they said I'd have to change my number to get it to stop!"
Me: Well son, you shouldn't have subscribed to it.
He: I didn't subscribe to it!
Me: What kind of things are they sending you?
He: Mitt Romney played Daddy Warbucks in an off Broadway production of Annie.
Me: Really? I didn't know that.
He: No! He didn't! Oh, my phone just beeped, here's another one. (Pause) Mitt Romney is your real daddy.
Me: I don't remember ever being that drunk. But, of course, if I was that drunk, I guess I wouldn't remember.
He: Mom, this is not funny.
Me: Well, maybe it will be interesting to learn a few things about the guy, right?
He: NO! Here's another one: Mitt Romney is unofficially Team Edward.
Me: Huh. I'd have thought him more of a Jacob kind of guy.
He: I can't believe you are not taking this seriously. My phone just beeped: another one. Mitt is going to ask and you better tell. WTF?
And so it went until I thought I heard him start to prematurely bald. I messaged Erica to send the last text:
He: OMG! Another one!
Me: What's it say?
He (laughing): Your mother says congratulations on your comp exams. And stop being such a wimp. Ha! This is great. I've been punked!
Me: Oh, yes you have.
He then texted Erica back with :
Ha ha hilarious, you win. I was panicking that I was being spammed. That was really good, I definitely got pranked!
And she added one more:
Mitt by the Minute is unsubscribing you for not playing along. Your information will be forwarded to Obama by the Minute.
Here are some of our other 'Mitt by the Minute' texts to my son:
Mitt Romney once saved three babies and two kittens from a burning building.
Mitt Romney is an Olympic gold medalist, an ex-Navy Seal and fishes with his bare hands.
Mitt Romney cares about you.
Contrary to rumors, Mitt Romney is not rich. At least by rich people standards.
If elected, Mitt Romney will appoint Chuck Norris as Sec of Defense.
On the weekends, Mitt Romney plays Rocky in the Rocky Horror Picture Show in Salt Lake City.
Mitt Romney would have never cheated on Robert Pattinson.
Mitt supports changing the name of the Hoover Dam to the Hoover Darn.
The next round of drinks are on Mitt.
So while other parents will send the traditional congratulatory card and flowers, those will long be forgotten during the next few grueling years of dissertation work. But I don't think my son will ever forget that on the day he passed his comp exams, he got PUNKED.
Check out Erica Lucke Dean's humorous blog at www.ericaluckedean.com
And also meet my son, Dillon Stone Tatum, PhD student extraordinaire, a scholar with a sense of humor www.dillonstonetatum.com
When someone I know is in labor, it brings back memories. Last week, my second cousin had her first child. A gorgeous little man with all of the right parts. Thank God the little guy made it out of the hospital with everything still attached. My youngest son was almost not so lucky.
He was born six weeks early and I got to see him for about five seconds before he was stuck in an incubator. That was just long enough for me to notice the huge gash on his nose and the fact that he had a penis. He was taken away and I was thrown in a bed. It was a small hospital and there was a snowstorm raging outside, so the hospital was having to float staff from other units to cover shortages of nurses that couldn't make it in. No big deal, there were only a few babies in the Nursery, how bad could it be? I woke up and next to me was a little plastic bassinet, complete with baby. I immediately rang the nurse.
Me: Why isn't he in the incubator?
Nurse (giggling): Incubator? Oh, honey, he's fine.
Me: No, when he was born, they took him to an incubator.
Nurse (giggling): No, he's just fine. Healthy little guy.
She reached in the bassinet and handed me my little bundle of joy.
Me: This is not my baby.
Nurse (still giggling): Of course it is.
Me: No, my baby had a gash on his nose from the forceps. This baby has a perfect nose.
Nurse: He sure does.
By this time I was getting pretty annoyed by her condescending giggles and assumptions that I didn't know my baby from another. Sure, I'd only seen him for a split second, but a mother knows her baby. I ripped open the diaper and that's when the meconium hit the fan.
Me: And where's his penis?
Me: His PENIS! You know, the little wiggly thing that is supposed to be in the diaper?
Me: If this is my son, you have a lot of explaining to do.
The poor female child was ripped from my arms and her little foot bracelet checked against mine.
Nurse Giggly: Oh. My. I don't normally work in the Nursery.
Me: Yeah, well, I don't normally give birth, either, but, I do know to check the bracelets.
I got out of bed and walked the short distance to the Nursery with Nurse Giggles carrying random female infant in tow. There under the incubator was a baby with a big gash on his nose. I motioned to the nurse standing next to him and showed her my bracelet through the window. She read it and then looked at the tag on incu-baby and nodded. I somehow conveyed through the glass that I wanted her to open his diaper (I wish I could remember what kind of sign language that involved).
Me to Nurse Giggles: THAT is my baby. And see that little wiggly thing? We aren't leaving here without it.
Congratulations, Andrea! The fun has just begun....
I have a problem.
It's not that I don't think before I speak, it's just that sometimes, things pop out of my mouth unexpectedly. Okay, I don't always think before I speak, yes, I need an edit button, or at least a revise, at times. But this week, I've had a few classic foot-in-mouth moments that I have to share.
1. I went to see a patient, an elderly veteran, and my task was to perform a somewhat private procedure in an even more private place. I got there early and he was just getting out of the shower with the help of his very young Nursing Assistant, who didn't have a clear command of the English language. At least she didn't understand some of our more colorful expressions. While Mr. X sat in a chair, covered in nothing but a towel:
Cute Nursing Assistant: I'll wait for you.
Me: No, go ahead and finish, he needs to be dry for what I'm going to do.
CNA: Oh, that's easy! (She runs back to the bathroom and returns with a blow dryer)
Me (to patient): Looks like you are about to get blown.
Okay, so yes, the minute it left my mouth, I realized what I had said. But, my ornery patient and I were both laughing so hard, I couldn't retract. CNA had no idea why we were laughing and had to make it worse by saying "Yeah, Yeah! I blow!"
I think that's about the time I wet myself. All in a day's work.
2. Lucky for me, the very awesome guy who is trying to hire me has a sense of humor. We were talking on the phone and he said, "Call me tomorrow. Bug me if you have to."
My response: I'm a very good bugger.
Brief pause as we both realized what I had said and neither of us knew whether to laugh or just let it slide. Then he made a joke about Winston Churchill and the British Navy, and all was good.
3. At the car dealership, helping my son buy his first car, I was pretty excited about the life-sized cardboard Peyton Manning they had standing guard in the showroom. After we had signed all the papers, I asked our salesman, "Don't you have a bell or a gong or something to ring?" All the other dealerships we'd been to did.
Salesman: No, but we do have a life-sized cardboard Peyton Manning.
Me: Well, you should have him holding a bell or something.
Salesman: He's pretty tall. I don't know that everyone could reach it.
Me: I could ring Peyton's bell.
Of course, that is the only sentence of the conversation that the other ten salesmen in the dealership heard and although I was a customer, they couldn't help but laugh. My son was the only one not laughing.
Salesman: At least your son didn't catch that.
My son: Oh, I caught it. But I've lived with her for a long time. You just get used to it.
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