Week in Review

by Marinka on May 21, 2010

On Monday, I have a dilemma. I am on a strict diet, but I have a coupon for a free Cinnabon. I call rail-thin mama and tell her.
“Should I throw it out, or do you want it?” I ask her.
“What?” she says. “I am upset. How can you think of throwing out food. People starve to death in Leningrad during war because no Cinnabon. And you want to throw out free food because you are too fat? Give it to someone thin.”
“Yes, that’s why I called you,” I tell her, ruing the day I got rid of my No Good Deed Ever Goes Unpunished cross-stitch. “Do you want it?”
“Of course I want it. Do not offer it to anyone else.”

On Tuesday, I get a call from my 11 year old daughter. She has a headache and wants to come home.
I’m in complete agreement with her, except I think that instead of going home, she should take Tylenol and stay in school.
“How are you feeling?” I text her later.
“Better but chorus is tiring and I want to come home right at 3,” she tells me.
I call mama to see if she can pick up my daughter. Mama just left Cinnabon where her coupon was refused! Now Mama thinks that I gave her a counterfeit coupon, because apparently I have so much free time that I traffic in stolen breakfast pastries that are not part of the Weight Watchers regimen. Mama is happy to pick her up!
When I call after the scheduled pick up, I learn that mama and my daughter are having pizza together and that the headache is all gone.
“It’s like a miracle,” I tell my daughter.
“I know, right?” she agrees.

On Wednesday, I implement a new zero-tolerance policy with Young Ladrinka.
“I don’t want to hear any complaining,” I let him know. “And no talking back, either.” I have a few dozen more rules, but I decide to dole them out over time.
The time comes for Young Ladrinka to unload the dishwasher, which is his least favorite chore, except for the other chores that he hates just as much.
“Why do I have to do this?!” he says, nominally to himself, as he takes each utensil out. “This is so boring.”
“No whining,” I remind him.
“I’m not whining,” he defends himself. “I’m just talking.”
“Sounds like whining to me,” I say.
“To you, it’s whining, to me, it’s talking.”

On Thursday, papa picks up the kids from school, because I have an event at the school. I see him there and come over to say hi. Oh, what’s this? Papa looks…hmm. New haircut? No. A new tie? No, not that, either. Oh, I know what it is! Papa is wearing my PINK CROCS.
“Why are you wearing women’s shoes?” I ask him, keeping a safe distance in case the pink crocs thing is a sign of worse things to come.
“Because I like the color,” he tells me.

These are my legs in the Crocs. I didn't want you to think that Papa had Heidi Klum gams.

On Friday, I confront Husbandrinka. “You know, I’ve been serving my country honorably all week,” I tell him. “You could express more of an interest.”
“You’re on jury duty, not in the Marines,” he tells me.
“Still, you could pretend to care.”
“I asked you what the case was about and you said that the judge told you not to discuss it with anyone.”
“That’s right.”
“So I stopped asking.”
“Because you don’t really care.”
“You’re not wrong.”

Cinnabon, rescue me!

One year ago ...

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{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }

May 22, 2010 at 12:23 am

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May 22, 2010 at 7:06 am

Pauline is taunting you.

I, on the other hand, offer nothing but sympathy. I am on a strict diet too. It means that someone who shall remain nameless (but I’m married to him) ate all but three tiny squares of the gourmet chili pepper laced chocolate that I was recently given as a 40th birthday present. I am quite bitter about it.

Want my whining assvice? I tied allowance to the no-whining policy in my house. 25 cents each evening for a day of NO whining at all. 10 cents if there was one whining episode. 5 cents is there were two whining episodes. Over two episodes, and no change in the piggy bank at all. It’s MIRACULOUS how money works as a reminder/motivator for self-control. If money doesn’t work in your house, perhaps you could offer puffy stickers. 😉


kristi May 22, 2010 at 8:25 am

Yep, I am changing the way I eat (diet) and I don’t buy things I can’t have. My family is not loving me right now!


May 22, 2010 at 8:38 am

Your father is hilarious. I can’t beleive he wore your pink crocs.


May 22, 2010 at 9:12 am

I can’t believe you didn’t take a picture of papa in the pink crocs for us. Sharing is caring.


May 22, 2010 at 9:35 am

i have the mary-jane style in that same pink. what is the “jibbet” on your croc? or is it a piece of cinnabon? i hope i get called to jury duty someday. it would be fun to find a defendant guilty.


Sophie May 22, 2010 at 2:43 pm

You should’a called me about that cinnabon. Now I’ll have to go to bed with unfulfilled cinnabon cravings.


anna see May 22, 2010 at 4:06 pm

pinc crocs? let us know if it escalates…


kimberly May 22, 2010 at 5:27 pm

I would like a cinnamon coupon. I can provide address to mail it to.


May 22, 2010 at 8:30 pm

Maybe the Cinnabon coupon was a ploy by the defense to see whether or not you’d accept a bribe? And the clerk at the Cinnabon counter was in on the ruse, so he or she turned down your rail-thin mama, who had unknowingly landed in the cross hairs of an elaborate and tasty jury-tampering plot.

I think I just got you off the hook for jury duty. You’re welcome.


Karen at French Skinny May 22, 2010 at 10:29 pm

The pink crocs just make me love Papa more. But I think Hawaiian shirts paired with checkered shorts are hot so, you know.
Cinnabons are to sugary anyway. Bleck.
And could you please send covert emails regarding the case your working on? I’ve been waiting and waiting! You know normal rules don’t apply to you!



The Flying Chalupa
May 22, 2010 at 11:49 pm

This post was dessert enough after having just gorged myself on pizza. Thank you.

PS – The moral of this story is to always throw away self-made stained glass window hangins, but NEVER throw away a good cross stitch.


May 23, 2010 at 5:25 am

We are connected by an invisible thread (which, BTW, will be replacing “Like sands through the hourglass” as the intro to Days Of Our Lives): I have the whiny tween, the somewhat disinterested (but lovely! hi honey!) husband and the strict diet thing going on, too. Woe is us. It is incredibly cruel than just when you need dessert most, you cannot have it. SUCH are the days of our lives.

(Seriously, they should write a soap opera inspired to us. It’d be brilliant. And we can share the profits. I’d be ok with the drama if there were profits.)


barbara sigelbaum
May 23, 2010 at 10:22 am

papa is very secure in his masculinity.


dusty earth mother May 23, 2010 at 3:55 pm

I am impressed that you gave away the Cinnabon coupon–you are a woman of fine character. Come to think of it, you gave away your coupon AND you’re serving your country all in one week–I think that definitely deserves a Chick-fil-A Spicy Chicken sandwich, don’t you?


miss dinkle May 23, 2010 at 6:39 pm

Dude. I think if you don’t actually “count” the points of the cinnabon then it can’t be counted against your ww program. at least that’s how I did it. I stayed fat, but it was the least restrictive diet I ever participated in.


magpie May 24, 2010 at 1:25 pm

your father has PINK crocs?


Kate Coveny Hood
May 26, 2010 at 4:01 pm

I didn’t know that people in Manhattan wore Cros. I seriously thought it was a suburb specific kind of thing… Unless of course there is a stiletto version. But I do love the idea of your dad wearing them.


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