Meet the Folks...

Mark was out of town the week before last and I was watching TV, catching up on emails & blogs(sending out my mass email to complain about UDOT), and so forth until the time when I would pass out from tiredness and not realize Mark wasn't next to me affectionately trying to manipulate me into snuggling him (I'm not readily a snuggler - oddly that changed with marriage?). The clock struck midnight and an interesting-looking (I was DECEIVED) show comes on called 'Meet the Folks' - about getting some attention-starved, flamboiant, outwardly-horny beyond belief teens to come and stay with a family for like a weekend or week or something (apparently my attention was divided) while the parents of another attention-starved flamboiant teen try to get to know them- in a reality tv show kind of way- to decide which of the visiting teens will get to be their child's girlfriend/boyfriend/date (hereagain, attention was divided...you're probably wondering now why I'm sharing with you something I paid such little attention to myself...in the beginning). I had to laugh when the girls began to show up at the parents home, one-by-one, hanging all out of their self-imposed skanky attire, faces painted with layers of cakey looking makeup, ten-toned hair, and chippendale attitudes. Behind the scenes the girls would get interviewed about their impressions of everything so far and they each would trash the other girl, etc... The parents would ask the girls questions about their sordid pasts and the girls would have to answer honestly...at this part I felt pity for men when they gave their answers. You'd really have to watch this show to get the full effect... Anyhow, the parents aren't impressed (shocker, I know) and meanwhile their son is in the hottub with all three buxum beauties making out with each on in turn, then trying to get them to show him their chi-chi's. He didn't have to do much convincing, for all three were on the verge of lifting the tops to their scanty swimsuits anyhow when daddy walks out and dutifully chides his son for being a pig and tells them to come inside...poor son can't catch a break, but I'm thinking daddy was hoping he'd planned the timing right and might witness the event himself...no such luck he was a second too soon.
Anyhow, the next day they are all at dinner and they bring one of each of the girl's ex-boyfriends to dinner and forbid the girls from speaking and have each of the guys in turn rat on their former lady loves. Here's what I'm getting to, hold onto your seat. They get to one of the ghetto goddesses and her boyfriend tells the family to beware of her as she lets some serious stinkies rip quite frequently! I was almost on the floor cracking up- but the best part is that she ADMITTED to it and said something along the lines that she wasn't ashamed of it a bit and that's just the kind of girl she was...(you should really check this out if you ever get a chance...http://www.tv.com/meet-my-folks/the-figgs/episode/184811/summary.html?tag=ep_list;ep_title;5

Well, I'm here to announce to the world that pregnancy does some FUNKY things to your body and since giving birth I too have had some gastronomical issues occassionally. I'm still taking my prenatals (I'm nursing still), Calcium, and Fish Oil (gotta smarten up my average son...) and I think the daily combination reaches a boiling point...if you will... at times and renders me helpless to it's consequences. Mark feels the need to complain loudly and vehemently and direct me to visit the restroom upon such occassions. I tell him it's a free country (well, so far...) and unless he wants to do the nursing and take the vitamins then tough titty (he's not very fond of that phrase either)! Mark proceeds to let one rip at least once a night when we're all snuggled up in bed and acts shocked when I call HIM out for it. He says it's just so much more disgusting when women do it and we should be proper. He really is thoroughly disgusted when I do it...which makes me want to do it all the more, especially when he gets verbally upset with me because of it. He tells me he can't believe how disgusting women are in real life and that we should be better. What is this gender inequality of which he speaks - I am truly outraged that men feel like we should wear all the fitting layers (I peeled 4 off last night after a blazing day), wear hose (I REFUSE), wear bras (weren't we already liberated here??), wear make-up, grow long hair (again, with the blazing weather!), shave our legs, armpits, etc..., do our nails, and last but most importantly BEAR THEIR CHILDREN and have regular periods. Where is the justice I say?!?!? So yes, when I get called out for 'looking at the trees' as my dear mother refers to it for some odd reason- you'd better believe you're gonna get backlash. So far this has not deterred Mark's quest to put an end to my covered wagons nightly- but I do not relent easily either. Thus, just about every night ends with the aforementioned argument...followed by an argument of whose turn it is to say the prayer. There is no compromise, there is no justice!