The One Where HH Offends Europe
Christmas Eve, the residents of the Hillbilly Mansion prepared for
the Finger Food Extravaganza at my Hillbilly Sister's (The Mayor's
Wife's) house. #1 son was snug in his bed, sleeping off a headache
that his own loud, backtalking smart-mouth had brought on. I laid
on the bed, reading "Everybody Into the Pool," because I needed
to warm up for the occasion with some laughter. Hillbilly Husband
and #2 son soaked in the big triangle bathtub full of bubbles, each
not listening to the other. I know, because they never close the
door, and they talk so loud because of the jets circulating the water.
The conversation was stranger than my book. Keep in mind that
#2's Christmas party at school was a "Foods of the World" party.
His group had Norway.
I have to go to South America the weekend after next.
No you don't.
Yes, I do. Campinas, Brazil. I fly into Sao Paulo.
Camp Peeeeenis?
Yes. It's summertime in the Southern Hemisphere, and winter here.
No it isn't. It's winter in South America.
No, it's summer. Did you tell anyone at school I was in Germany?
Hey! Did you know Sweden is next to Norway? I am from
Norway and Courtney (best friend) is from Sweden.
You didn't tell anyone?
No. Germany was not my country.
I helped do some work for a guy from Sweden. Do you want me
to ask him to send you something from Sweden?
A woman.
A woman?
Haha! Gotcha!
I can email him and see if he can send you something. There are
some pretty girls in Sweden.
Pretty girls? Like here?
There are pretty girls in Norway, too. But in England, they're
not so pretty. England is like here, and some are pretty and
some are not. Now, Germany has some pretty girls...
Does anything rhyme with 'orange'?
I don't know. Does anything rhyme with orange...
Orange, porange, borange...
I go to the doctor on the 3rd to get my shots.
The people in Norway were me, Parker, Mikayla...
You don't rhyme words like 'brown' with 'round'...
I have no idea where this conversation went next. It was one
great big not-listening party. Though not as scary as the time
I walked into the living room to find HH and #1 son, then
2 years old, watching the Miss USA Pageant:
Woowoo!
Woowoo!
That's what you say when you see a pretty girl. Then they
notice you and talk to you.
Woowoo!
That's it. Look at that one. She's pretty.
Woowoo!
If we're out and we see a pretty girl, you do that. Then she'll
come talk to us. But if I do it, she might slap me.
Woowoo!
Oooh! There's a pretty one.
Woowoo!
(ENTER HILLBILLY MOM)
What is he teaching you?
How to be a pretty girl.
Note-to-self: Limit HH's alone-time with the children.
Second note-to-self: Warn #2 son's teacher of HH's destination
in Brazil, just in case he starts telling people where his dad went.
the Finger Food Extravaganza at my Hillbilly Sister's (The Mayor's
Wife's) house. #1 son was snug in his bed, sleeping off a headache
that his own loud, backtalking smart-mouth had brought on. I laid
on the bed, reading "Everybody Into the Pool," because I needed
to warm up for the occasion with some laughter. Hillbilly Husband
and #2 son soaked in the big triangle bathtub full of bubbles, each
not listening to the other. I know, because they never close the
door, and they talk so loud because of the jets circulating the water.
The conversation was stranger than my book. Keep in mind that
#2's Christmas party at school was a "Foods of the World" party.
His group had Norway.
I have to go to South America the weekend after next.
No you don't.
Yes, I do. Campinas, Brazil. I fly into Sao Paulo.
Camp Peeeeenis?
Yes. It's summertime in the Southern Hemisphere, and winter here.
No it isn't. It's winter in South America.
No, it's summer. Did you tell anyone at school I was in Germany?
Hey! Did you know Sweden is next to Norway? I am from
Norway and Courtney (best friend) is from Sweden.
You didn't tell anyone?
No. Germany was not my country.
I helped do some work for a guy from Sweden. Do you want me
to ask him to send you something from Sweden?
A woman.
A woman?
Haha! Gotcha!
I can email him and see if he can send you something. There are
some pretty girls in Sweden.
Pretty girls? Like here?
There are pretty girls in Norway, too. But in England, they're
not so pretty. England is like here, and some are pretty and
some are not. Now, Germany has some pretty girls...
Does anything rhyme with 'orange'?
I don't know. Does anything rhyme with orange...
Orange, porange, borange...
I go to the doctor on the 3rd to get my shots.
The people in Norway were me, Parker, Mikayla...
You don't rhyme words like 'brown' with 'round'...
I have no idea where this conversation went next. It was one
great big not-listening party. Though not as scary as the time
I walked into the living room to find HH and #1 son, then
2 years old, watching the Miss USA Pageant:
Woowoo!
Woowoo!
That's what you say when you see a pretty girl. Then they
notice you and talk to you.
Woowoo!
That's it. Look at that one. She's pretty.
Woowoo!
If we're out and we see a pretty girl, you do that. Then she'll
come talk to us. But if I do it, she might slap me.
Woowoo!
Oooh! There's a pretty one.
Woowoo!
(ENTER HILLBILLY MOM)
What is he teaching you?
How to be a pretty girl.
Note-to-self: Limit HH's alone-time with the children.
Second note-to-self: Warn #2 son's teacher of HH's destination
in Brazil, just in case he starts telling people where his dad went.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 7:27 PM
3 Comments:
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
What's wrong with being taught how to be a pretty girl?
Oh, sorry, I forgot you have sons, and this is your HH talking.
Gee it must get lonely out there in the woods, mind you, your husband does sell saw blades, which is just one step away from being a Lumberjack.
Oh the knives are out tonight.
HooRoo
Rebecca
Nothing wrong with a perve with the young ones. As long as they don't fully strip down ;) ..
Bec,
HH never watched Monty Python, so he doesn't know the lumberjack song. And he's not very good at teaching the boy to be a pretty girl. He uses the kids as bait to attract women. Of course, they ALWAYS tell on him.
Huggies,
About the only thing I DON'T have to worry about is HH perving with the young ones. Drinking, strip clubs, "working late", sneaking a woman home...those were the issues BEFORE we got married. Now I'm proud to say I have broken his spirit, and he is mine until I tire of him, and cast him out like yesterday's egg shells.
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