Economics 101

"Shit, did you see how far the Dow dropped?"

"Yeah. Enrique called last night. He said he wished he would have sold our stocks before the drop."

"Makes you almost wish you hadn't saved anything. If we'd have bought that new TV, at least we'd still have it."

"Well, you have to look at the silver lining, I guess."

"And what's that?"

"With Wall Street in the toilet, Enrique bets that recruiters are going to make their numbers and then some this fall"

If Madonna jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge...

"I just don't understand why any gathering of more than four females immediately turns into a discussion of what kind of plastic surgery everyone plans to get."

"C'mon, you can't tell me you never considered having something done."

"Actually, no. We do enough to make ourselves feel bad about our bodies. Talking about bigger boobs and tucked tummies in front of our daughters, for Crissakes, is just wrong. We are a total disgrace to our gender and, frankly, it's boring."

"Madonna's had work done."

"Madonna has also posed in Playboy, published her own sex book and still likes to flash her crotch at people at 50. I don't see everyone lining up to do that."

"You never know. They might if they actually get the plastic surgery."

Oh, jeez. You have to be kidding me.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. _____. This is Mrs. _____, my husband is in the Medics section."

"Hi! How are you?"

"Well, not so good and that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What's up?"

"Well, I got my newsletter yesterday. And I was looking at the photos."

"Oh yeah. I think your husband's photo was in it, right?"

"Yes, his was. But behind him, in the chow line, I noticed there was a female. A blond woman."

"Uh...a female?"

"Yes, a female. Can you explain what she's doing there?"

"I'm looking at the photo now, ma'am. I'm not sure what there is to explain. She's a soldier. Looks like she's just getting herself some food."

"That is bullshit. This is supposed to be an infantry unit. Our guys should be nowhere near females."

Well, that'll learn 'em.

"I've been asked to ask you to send some photos from downrange of the guys."

"Photos? Photos of what?"

"You know, the soldiers doing their thing. In good lighting, with smiles on their faces and in relative safety."

"Gotcha. But we don't have the connectivity for that right now."

"So any advice on what I should tell them?"

"Tell them to rent 'The Terminator.' We're pretty much living in those broken-down post-apocalyptic buildings that the humans are hiding in while fighting the robots. If that doesn't warm the cockles of their wee hearts, I don't know what will."

Advice for the ages.

"I can't believe you thanked _____ in your speech. I mean, it was ______'s fault that we got here in the first place."

"Yeah, but he also stood back and let us fix the problem. He was willing to work with us. And because of that, ultimately, we got what we want."

"But still..."

"Look, I was raised that when someone helps you get what you want, you give them a reach-around whether they really deserve it or not. It's just good, old-fashioned manners."

Overheard at the BX today.

"I wish they made chewing gum for vaginas."

(My mind is still swirling this one. Did she have that not-so-fresh feeling? Was she looking for assistance with her kegels? Was she looking for some kind of fixer to keep intruders out? Or something infinitely more sinister? Honestly, it was all I could do not to go up and ask her what the hell she meant by that).

Just call me mother of the millenium!

"Will Munchkin eat this?"

"Eh, we'll give him a little but maybe just grab a hot dog from the fridge and nuke it up for him, just in case. They are in the crisper drawer."

"Uh, NEE, these hot dogs are expired."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"They are expired. And the expiration date is January 08."

"Hot dogs can expire?"

"Uh, yes."

"Seriously?"

Safety first.

"Why are you so tired?"

"I just didn't really get much sleep. It really bothered me that the hotel room didn't have a second lock on the door."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not. Hotel doors should have second locks."

"That is ridiculous. You cannot for a minute tell me you were actually worried someone was going to break in."

"No, you idiot. I was worried that our son might wake up before us and try to break out."

"And go to the front desk..."

"...to get that candy he loves."

"Shit. I hadn't considered that. And I'm glad I didn't, otherwise I wouldn't have slept well either."

How you know that too many soldiers are being bad boys.

This morning, after a series of phone calls about all manner of soldier related fuck-ups (if you didn't know, whenever a guy gets arrested, gets drunk and disorderly or just generally fucks up, both the company First Sergeant, aka Top, and Commander get calls -- no matter the time), my speech-delayed son picked up my husband's cellular telephone. He likes to play telephone and just babble on but we were amazed this morning when we heard the following:

"Hello, Top. WHAT?! NO! (insert stern random babble)...You're kidding me. ...(more angry babble)...No way. See you later. Bye, Top."

Go Army, Beat Navy.

"Did you bring home those photos for the slideshow?"

"Shit. I forgot."

"Babe, we're only a few days away and I've asked you every day this week. Are you trying to drive me crazy?"

"I'm sorry. I forgot."

"How do you think it's all going to get done if you don't help out a little? Do you think I can just magically do my job, raise the boy and do this FRG crap without you at least doing a little?"

"Oh, come on now. You know you won't be happy unless you're going mach 10 with your hair on fire."

"Are you serious? You did not just quote 'Top Gun' at me."

"I did."

"'Top Gun' is a Navy movie. If you aren't careful they are going to take away your commission."

What a way to start the week.

"Uh, honey? You may want not want to use that bathroom."

"Dare I ask why not?"

"The seat pinches."

"What are you talking about?"

"I broke the toilet seat yesterday and now when you sit down the crack will pinch your skin."

"How the hell did you break a toilet seat?"

"I guess I just don't know my own strength."

Mother-in-law, your name is passive-aggressive.

"So I had lunch with L.S. today. You know her."

"Ummm, L.S.?"

"Yes, she's married to N.S. You know her. She wore a green sweater to your engagement party."

"Ummmm..."

"She was one of my bridesmaids. You know her, you do."

"Okay. Was it a nice lunch?"

"Well, we had to cut it short. She's having family problems."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Her daughter and grandson moved back home. The daughter is going through an ugly divorce. Had a great husband -- lawyer or some such -- but she's just one of these cold women. More interested in her career than anything else and then couldn't hack it when her son came along."

"Oh, that's too bad. I hope that things get better."

"Well, L. can't leave them alone too long. You'd think the problem would be with the boy, that he'd have trouble adjusting. But no, not at all, it's the daughter. She's addicted to the Internet."

"What?"

"Yes, she neglects her son. He's two and he's barely speaking. He's always in front of the television. And all so the daughter can chat with people on the Internet. It's just disgraceful. Thank God L. is there to help make sure that her grandson is taken care of."

Ewww.

"Babe, have you seen the kitchen scissors?"

"Umm, are those the black-handled ones?"

"Yes."

"They are in the bathroom."

"What the hell are they doing in the bathroom?"

"I used them to trim my pubes."

"What?! Gross! Why the hell did you use those scissors? Those are kitchen scissors. I use them to cut meat and veggies, for God's sake."

"Well, how appropriate that they've now been used to cut near meat."

On how reality never lives up to the fantasy.

"Okay, I couldn't wait for you to call me. Now that I'm old and married, I have to live vicariously through someone. So how did the date with the hot French dude go? He's not still there, is he?"

"No, he's not here. The date was all right."

"All right? Just all right? You've been talking about getting together with this guy forever! He is HOT FRENCH DUDE. How could it be just all right? What happened?"

"Well, the date itself was actually awesome."

"Yeah? Where did you go?"

"We went to dinner at this joint called the Supper Club and it was just perfect. He was perfect. Sweet, romantic, interesting, funny. We totally hit it off. It almost seemed like I was starring in my own romantic comedy."

"That sounds awesome. So where's the 'all right' in that?"

"The 'all right' comes after. So I took him back to my place..."

"You slut!"

"...and we started making out. He was a great kisser and everything seemed absolutely perfect."

"So did you close the deal? Or did you not and he get pissy about it or something? I'm still trying to figure out the 'all right' part."

"No, no, nothing like that. It was great. And so after a while, we made our way up to my bedroom and started going at it. But once I got his pants off, I started laughing uncontrollably."

"Uh, do I want to know what in his pants was laughter-worthy? This isn't going to gross me out, is it?"

"It's just that once things started getting hot and heavy, he started going 'Oui, oui...oui, oui.' And once things got really, really heavy, his voice got all high-pitched and squeaky and those 'oui, oui's' came out more like 'wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-wee-wee-weeeeeeeeeeeeee.' And you know, there is absolutely nothing sexy about getting down and dirty with someone who sounds like a toddler who is telling you he has to go to the potty."

My husband, the moralist.

"What are you doing?"

"Making Munchkin a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"Don't use the blueberry jam that's in there."

"Why not?"

"It's moldy."

"When did you notice this?"

"When we got back from the states. It was all kinds of furry. Utterly disgusting."

"So why is it still languishing in the fridge then, exactly?"

"Because I respect life. I'm a giver that way."

Are you frickin' kidding me?

"Did you hear that Britney Spears' sister is pregnant?"

"Ummm, isn't she like 12?"

"No, she's 15 or 16."

"Oh, that's so much better!"

"And get this, it's by her live-in 19 year old boyfriend. I was surprised to hear it. I figured she was all set up to be the good sister. And you know, she always seemed okay. My daughter watches her on that Zoey 101 show."

"Not for much longer, I guess."

"They haven't said they are going to fire her. But I honestly hope they don't."

"Are you serious? It's a kid's show. How exactly are they supposed to spin the fact that their squeaky clean teenage star is pregnant?"

"But she's a role model for these girls. So many big stars run off and have abortions. I want my daughter to see that if you make this kind of mistake, you have to own up to it. She's not going to see that if Jamie Lynn Spears just disappears."

She has a point.

"Mitt Romney's wife was on the radio again. And of course, as if she hadn't told us enough, when asked about how her husband was different from the other candidates, she felt it necessary to mention that she is his first wife."

"She does like to bring that up."

"Here's the thing. I figure it's politics, right? I should expect it."

"You should."

"But by the same token, this guy's been in the game for a while. Chances are, he hasn't been faithful to this woman. Hell, I wanted to cheat on her just in the five minutes she talked on the radio. I can only imagine how bad he must be itching after 20 odd years of marriage."

"You're funny."

"So let's be honest. He's probably cheated but just not gotten caught. And like, I know this sounds jaded, but that makes me wonder what else he's getting away with. I mean, Clinton got caught in a lie. Sure. But it makes him somehow seem more honest because he was just so bad at covering his tracks. And that's how I'm approaching politics these days. How fucked up is that?"

I might have peed my pants a little.

"Hi, NEE. How are you?"

"Good, thanks."

"Good, good. You probably are wondering why I'm calling. I don't know if you saw the invitation for the non-denominational Bible study that I'm starting after the holidays?"

"Oh, yeah. A couple months ago, right? I'm pretty sure I forwarded the invite on to the families in our FRG back then."

"Yes, and thanks to everyone putting the word out we've had a tremendous response. So much so that it looks like we are going to need to set up a second group to properly minister to everyone."

"Ummm, okay, is there like a time change or something you want me to put out to our families?"

"Oh, well, we're not quite there yet. First, before we can set up that second group and figure out the times and dates and other logistics, we need to find someone to lead it. And I thought you'd be perfect for the job."

On what books teach our children.

"Babe, what happened to my bathroom book?"

"Which one?"

"Well, any one of them. I think I had the Templars book in there and maybe one other."

"Try 6."

"Huh?"

"You had six books in there, precariously stacked and waiting to fall into the toilet or bathtub."

"Huh. Who knew? So where are they now?"

"The books? Well, I know this is going to sound kind of crazy to you but I put them on the bookshelf."

"The bookshelf?"

"Yes. The bookshelf. The shelf that was made, so I'm told, to put books on. Specifically to put books on. Even more than six."

"Well, put them back into the bathroom because all I had to read while I was in there was Munchkin's 'Ten Apples on Top,' and you know, by the fifteenth or sixteenth reading, I found there was some powerfully disturbing subtext in there."

Good, old-fashioned Christian values.

"You know, B. asked us to pray for R. yesterday at Bible Study."

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, I guess her doctor found a lump or something."

"Oh my goodness. How scary!"

"I know, it's terrible. But honestly, when B. asked, I felt a little irritated about. It just seemed inappropriate. R.'s not a member of our group. She doesn't go to church. I don't even know if she's a Christian. I really wonder if I should have to pray for R."

"Maybe she just needs to be shown the way..."

"The church is right there. She can't miss it. Honestly, if R. needs the help of holy Jesus, she needs to ask for it herself. It wouldn't hurt her to get herself to church on Sunday, maybe do a little praying on her own."

"No, but still..."

"God helps those that help themselves and, frankly, I have enough people, that have actually embraced Jesus as their Savior, that I have to pray for every night. I can't be responsible for the help and healing of every pagan on this post."