Monday, August 6, 2007

XYZ PDQ... Birthdays... Butt Doctors...

My cousin Steve (we all know cousin Steve right?) just had a baby boy on Friday. Well, his wife had a baby boy, Steve just stood by and watched, but you know what I mean. They named the boy after cousin Steve and I emailed him to say congratulations. He emailed me back and signed his name:

Stephen Patrick "Last Name" Sr. Esquire MD CPA XYZ PDQ

Now I have to tell ya-stuff like that makes me laugh my rear off. If you don't get the joke, well then we could never be friends. I am sorry.

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Feeling my childish XYZ PDQ giggle from the email, I used it on my son later in the day. My son always forgets to zip his zipper after going to the terlet and I am constantly reminding him to zip it up. Today was no different and as we were getting out of the car I noticed that his zipper was down.

I said: "XYZ PDQ"

To which he zipped up real fast and asked:

"Mom, what does XYZ PDQ mean?"

Me: "examine your zipper, priddy darnd quick"

My husband looked at me and said:

"That is what that means?"

Now I ask you, what kind of cruel cruel childhood did this man have???

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My Dad turned 69 on Sunday. I called to wish him a Hippo Birdie but he was out at WalMart buying vitamins--I don't know why because let's face it, he is 69... a vitamin is not going to help. Anyway, I was chatting with my mom:

Ma: "Can you believe it has been 30 years since Daddy had his first by-pass surgery?" Sidenote: I can never figure out who this "Daddy" person she is talking about as I have never called my pops "Daddy" It freaks me out a bit because it makes me think of the saying "Who's your Daddy" but I just shake my head and go on listening to her.

Me: "Oh what a blessing, tis' true tis' true." (I have found that it is fun to talk to my mom with an Irish accent from time to time... she usually sets down her wine glass when I do this not sure whether it is me or the alcohol). "Lucky Stars, green clovers."

Ma: "Oh yes, a blessing..."

Me: "A blessing that keeps on giving"

Ma: "You mean a blessing that keeps on taking!"

Obviously the 69 year old man living with her named "Daddy" ticked her off before he headed out to get his vitamins.

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I was on the phone with Peg (my mom) when Chuck (my dad) came home. He and I had a conversation about that same thing we have been talking about for weeks now... his colonoscopy. He thinks up more and more jokes about it and we sit and laugh about a man sticking his finger where the sun doesn't shine. I figure this is my dad's way of dealing with his experience.

Dad: "Well, I don't have to go to the butt doctor for another 4 months... thank God above, Jesus Mary and Joseph. 5 butt exams in a year is enough!"

Me: "Do you feel like you have a break from prison life?"

Dad: "Well I'll tell ya, the last doctor had such big fingers! They should not be allowed to do such things when they have big fingers."

Me: "Are you sure these are all Doctors? 5 times is a lot... maybe they just really like you."

Dad: "They always tell me to relax and breath... because when I stop breathing I clench up."

Me: "Do you ever say "THANK YOU SIR, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?" when they are done?

Dad: "No, but they have asked me to call them "Daddy" before."

I can't make this stuff up people!

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