Popsicles of Doom

How can something so horrible be so entertaining? My Mom inadverantly played a dirty trick on us.

Here's the scoop: Mom bought us popsicles. One for herself, one for me, one for my husband, Jeremy. They are made by a Mexican company called Paleteria Juarez, which I have been told means, "Juarez Popsicle Factory."

The first bite that I tasted was stunningly awful. What the heck is that horrible flavor? Some unfamiliar fruit like tamarind? No! It's SALT! So I gave out the other 2 popsicles and gleefully awaited the reactions. Mom was expecting papaya. The face she suddenly made must have been what I looked like when I took my first bite. She squalked, "It's HOT!" Then Jeremy got his. He stuck out his tongue and went, "ackgh!" I never saw my husband turn up his nose at any food, no matter how bizzare. He kept gnawing on it saying, "What is that flavor? I know that flavor! It tastes like... it takes like.... ." So, I read the ingredients to find out. It included: Sugar, orange juice, lemon juice, pickles(!!!!!!!!!!!), salt and chili peppers, and finally, vinegar.

I ran back to Mom and read the list to her. Just as I read the final ingredient, Jeremy came up and with a sad but polite voice said, "Thank-you, Beth." I guess you had to be there, but his timing at that moment was the best laugh of the whole story.

We continued to eat them, but kept asking each other why. Mom wimpered her way down to the bare stick.

Our neighborhood has a large Hispanic population. We the Mexican popsicle factory rents out little freezers mounted on handcarts. During the summer, hardy Mexicans roll them up and down all the streets, tinkling the little bell. The fruit popsicles are mostly cream and pureed fruit. They are so good, we are trying to get everyone to turn on to them. But stay away from the pickle hot pops! They seem to be an aquired taste. Go with the mango!

Menfolk

I'm reading a great new book called, For Women Only. It's by Shaunti Feldhahn. It's a short little book about a few points in the male character that we aren't really aware of. Guys explain themselves in "manspeak" and think we understand, but we don't.

The one idea that we only have a foggy comprehension of is their sense of dignity.

We have heard things like, "Men have a fragile ego." Another thing guys say to their wives is, "I can't do that! I'll lose my guy card!" The guy card is like a driver's liscence. If they get too many points scored against it, they lose it. Slowly, comprehension is coming to me.

I'm gonna try to put it in girlspeak:

Men have a complex code of decorum. They must maintain composure. Things that would never embarass a female are off limits to a man. Examples are: A woman can change her mind, while a man must be decisive. A woman can wear guy clothes, but... well, we won't finish that sentence. Women can drive any vehicle they please. A guy must not drive too small or too colorful of a car, especially a Neon. There's talk out there about the Toyota Prius.. Is it a gay car? A woman can have as many unwarranted emotional outbursts as she feels she needs, but a man must be imperturbed. He can't say, "I don't know," but must tell what he DOES know.. or what he assumes... or guesses.

But the ironic catch is that when his wife teases or insults him, the rules of decorum still apply. he must not act perturbed. She then perceives that her behavior has not offended him. But do you remember the little fat kid who you saw being teased by his classmates? He laughed it all off, but no one could enjoy that kind of treatment.

I just cringe when I think of how I have embarassed Jeremy in the past. Teasing him about driving the wrong way in front a guy friend. Telling the family that it's his fault we are late. I'll just stop there.

My new commitment is to avoid embarassing my bitsy-pookums. Opps! Dang! Did it already!

I have a theory! I have noticed that women can do a passable job of almost anything. They can muddle through until they get it right. Any woman has lots of talents and responsibilities. Men, conversely, just seem to select only a few areas in which to excel. ANy woman can cook or pick out a decent wardrobe, but the famous chefs and designers tend to be male. Women are like Jeeps that can go anywhere. We are adaptable. We are multi-taskers. Men are like trains that will just go one direction. But what a load they can carry once they decide where to lay those tracks! See what a beneficial partnership we have? They pick a direction, muscle their way through the big obstacles, and then we dash round and round, smoothing out the picky details.

I think that the reason that men are attracted only to a limited number of tasks is because they know they can excel in those areas. No loss of composure. No floundering around. No muddling. That pesky EGO becomes a mighty POWERHOUSE.

Electrical Shock Number 2

The first shock I got was when I was trying to straighten out an outlet. I turned off the power to that room, but for some reason, that one was still hot. It was on a different circuit. I had insulated shoes on, so I didn't die as you might have noticed. It kinda hurt.

The second shock I got was when I had the power to the whole house shut off. I was installing a ceiling fan. They are notorious for wobbling, so before I put on the fan blades, I spun the fan to see if it moved smoothly. So far, so good. Then I continued fastening it down. Hey! I got a shock! How the heck could that happen? It was really mild, which added to the mystery. Then I realized that spinning the fan turned the motor into a power generator.

I have heard that you can do the same thing with an old crank-style telephone. Wind it up and zap yourself, just for the fun of it.

My favorite thing is when you call my cell while I'm doing an electrical project. I always keep the vibe option on, so you can imagine my reactions.