Coffee B-eaches! Mama Needs a Spa Weekend!

What’s does it mean if you habitually make coffee and forget to put the actual coffee grounds in, resulting in finding a pot of hot water in the morning?

Asking for a friend.
Jim also is trying to diagnose me with SOMETHING. Whatever my “illness” it only flares every couple of weeks.

I call it, “Mamma is tired when she is making coffee before bed and the kids are always distracting me when I am doing it”.

He calls it, “OMG! It’s the end of the world! I don’t have coffee and my wife is showing signs of early onset Alzheimer’s.”
Either way I kinda don’t feel bad when I laugh when he brings me the hot pot of water to show me that I did it…AGAIN.

#SorryBaby #YouMightHaveACoffeeProblem #DoesThatPassagesPlaceHaveAnAlzheimersWing #IfThatMalibuJointHasACoffeeWingIAmSooooSick

I also looked and looked in my 14,000 pictures on my phone for a cup of coffee picture and this was the only one I found. This is one of my most favoritist cups of coffee ever at one of my most favorite hotels ever, at one of the very best spas I have ever been in.

Donald Trump bought the Ritz Carleton a month after I visited and renamed it after the spa to “Eau Palm Beach Spa.” It’s in West Palm Beach, FL.

You know when you have to close your eyes and think of a peaceful and happy place…this is it for me. I never wanted to leave.

I wanted to build a new house with a courtyard and swinging basket chairs over fountain water to read and kick your feet.


I wanted people to bring me lunch on a linen cart with wine glass chandeliers….


Eau Spa Wine Glass Chandelier

See, this is why I brew hot water. I was probably thinking about building our next home based on a spa I almost needed a police escort to exit. Why would anyone ever leave? It was also the month we were in Redbook magazine and it was very weird to find yourself in a magazine sitting next to your chair in the lounges.


Did I mention the man who brings you lunch while you are hanging in a basket chair under a pergola with your toes kicking water on the ocean?

A bento box, everything is better in a bento box AND when someone else makes your coffee.


Everything is better Bento

#HeavenOnABeach #IThinkThisPostIsNotAboutCoffeeButAboutGoingBackToFlorida




I texted my girlfriend a picture because every time I wrapped my sarong it looked SO WRONG. 911 sarong help please! That is what friends are for.

Since sharing this I have a gaggle of girlfriends that have requested a girls weekend to Eau Palm Beach Resort and Spa. I have informed my husband that I am certain that the rest and relaxation would aid in my coffee making and treat my “disorder”.

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PS If you are a publisher or producer email me and I will give you my phone number. If you are Child Protective Services email me and I will give you the phone number of someone I don’t like. If you want to come and help me fold clothes and put them away I will give you my address and a big kiss.

Funny Family Tuesday

This is funny to anyone who has ever lived with little Tasmanian Devils.

Our three boys trash my husbands workshop. It is as if you put a room in a dryer and run it. So basically if they go in there that room will look like any room the boys inhabit for more than 20 minutes.

Jim put a passcode lock on the door a long time ago. That doesn’t work because I need tools too. Over time I gave the passcode to the kids so I don’t have to walk them down and get whatever they need. This passcode is given while making them promise they wont “Tazmanian Devil” all over the room.
Last night Jim reorganized the space.

He sent me this text this morning.

“Your passcode to basement garage is ****. If you give it to our kids I will drown your kittens, make the dog resemble an opossum, and pour bacon grease all over/into your hair products so the ugly dog follows around and stares at you eternally.”

So, he is mental. Right?

Also, remember he gave the dog a haircut around her mouth after he was convinced her breath smelled because of her face fur and she looked like the squirrel from Ice Age.
He means business.
He also didn’t include the *Do not post this to Facebook.

So, here it is. I wonder if I can have doors put on the kitchen today with locks. Imagine what they do to the kitchen if what they do to the workshop invokes crazy town on my husband’s brain. Now make that image twice as bad as it is in your head and THAT is what three boys do to the kitchen in the center of the house. I pulled underwear off the kitchen table when they went to school today.

I was still tired from scrubbing Skittles out of soccer socks, unsuccessfully, last night.
I say all the time we should have raised them in an airport hanger.

Red Moon, of the Behind Kind

Sometimes you have to be really annoying to remind yourself why you married someone.
Here is what I learned last night…

If you are out picking up sticks, putting down some grass seed, fixing landscape lights that were beat up over winter and as the sun goes down, and because you have spring fever and you don’t want to go inside, you may find yourself working with a giant spotlight with various color beams and setting.

Then, when you are done and you are down a hill by the pond choking on your own saliva giggle laughing as you are shining a blinking red high intensity beam up at your bedroom window where your husband is in bed watching basketball, all lame like, and you are laughing outside so hard at yourself you are wheezing…

you will be mooned by your other half.


Red moon tonight folks

My red spotlight shone on my husbands bare white bottom.

Yes, he could be your doctor if your lucky.

The man is all business.

Funniest part was he walked out on the deck and said, “Did you see the moon?” I circled around craning my neck and said, “where is it tonight?”

He says, “Muppet” (his word of endearment for me) “My moon!”

And I fashion myself as being quick witted.


My kids are Auditioning for Jacka$$ 2023 Edition, EVERY DAY

Well, here is the story about probably the most inappropriate thing that was ever said in a Build-A-Bear.

Because what my funny kids did to me there ten years ago apparently wasn’t embarrassing enough.

Because my kids are auditioning for Jacka$$ 2023, EVERYDAY.

Our youngest has had a bunny from Build-A-Bear since before he was born.

When I was pregnant with him I took our four year-old twins to build “the baby in Mamma’s belly” a stuffed animal to bring to the hospital.

It was a very sweet day.

But you aren’t here for that.

The “embarrass Abbie moment” is coming up.

First, you have to see I am TRYING to raise good and normal boys.


They made a wish for their little brother while holding the little red Build-A-Bear hearts.

They gave them a kiss and the two hearts were sewn up into the bunny.

When Peter began talking he named his bunny, well…Bunny.

After the lady at the store filled the bunny up with fluff the big boys went to bathe and brush the bunny. If you have ever been at a Build -A-Bear you know there is a fake bathtub that is really a table that looks like a cartoon bathtub and instead of spraying water it shoots air to fluff up your new friends fur.

Build-A-Bear Bunny

Cute right?

Until I looked over and one of my twins was LAYING ON THE FAKE BATHTUB while his brother was giggle screaming blasting him in the face with the air nozzle.

No.  There are no pictures of that.  I was too busy wobbling over to stop them.  Remember, the child came out 10 1/2 pounds which is why I wrote “My Bellybutton is Now a Cupholder.” Click this for THAT “funny” story (at my expense again)

So we laughed for a few years about that and our youngest really begins to love his “Bunny.”

Bunny Love Collage

He loves it so much that when he turns two he wants a “new” bunny that he names New Bunny.

Adorable, right?

Eventually there is a birthday party at the store for a friend and he picks out…you guessed it, a NEW “New Bunny!”

For all these  years the trio of amigos sleep with him every night.  They go on trips in suitcases and they are well loved.

For being a tough guy, he is shameless about having his bunnies with him.

He also spends a great deal of time putting them into situations where “kill the bunny” would be an appropriate title.   The kid has issues to work through with having two big brothers beating him down all day.


When I found Bunny in this “situation” I feared Peter had found a copy of “Fifty Shades of Grey” so I wrote a little ditty called “Poor Husbands and their Wives’ Naughty Books” and you can read that by clicking HERE and read the funny about the Bethenny Frankel show calling me about that piece HERE.

Flash forward ten years and we are at the mall Saturday buying the big boys new tennis shoes.

Peter is being patient  but does ask to go into Build-A-Bear.

If you have a youngest child, that means you know you are done having babies these things are bitter sweet.

This was probably going to be the last time any of my kids will want to go into that store.

Even his big brothers recognized it.

He asked to get another bunny.


I said yes.

All choked up.  All of my three boys there.  All.  Choked.  Up.

His big brothers and I talked about when they laid onto the bathtub and how their little brother’s first bunny has two hearts inside instead of one.

Build-A-Bear Fun

We stuffed his new bunny and went to the register to pay in a long line, the kind of line the store only has on a Saturday.

It was our turn.

The young girl smiles big and leans in and asks sweetly,

“Does your new bunny have a name?”

I am waiting for the “New, New, New Bunny” reply when his raspy little voice next to me says,



All I can think to do is dive into the imaginary fox hole cartoon style because I know what is coming next and judging by the looks on his brothers faces, they would be jumping in that fox hole right next to me.

We all know what “Herbert’s” last name is in our house.  Herbert is the guy from “Family Guy.”

Actually, as soon as “Herbert” was said one of the twins RAN out of the store.

I was making the “Nooooooooo….!” face mixed with the poop face.

He says,

“Herbert!  Herbert the Pervert!”

Herbert The Pervert

You know this guy…

Family Guy’s Herbert the Pervert

I am now making the squinty eyes smile face at the sweet sales girl.

The sweet 20 something year old  know now she must have flunked out of teachers school sales girl says,

“Well, I guess you won’t be sleeping with HIM tonight!”

(wink wink)

I instantly wanted to high five her.

Like jump up and give her the “we women unite against these smart as$ed boys” high five!

I also strangely wanted to high five my own little smart as$ed little boy because he did that thing his mamma does that makes me, his mamma, giggle.

I like to say things to make someone uncomfortable and keep a straight face.

You know like the time the twins stuck their heads in the urinals at preschool.


When I told the teachers that I dunk their heads in the toilet when they have an accident to try and explain WHY my kids would dip their hair in the school urinals.


His timing.  The pause and then the straight, matter of fact delivery of “Herbert.  Herbert the Pervert” with not a smirk in his freckled little face just made me think that they did indeed give me the right baby back after they cleaned all the baby juices off of him that day he was born.  I am still a little dazed after giving birth to DOUBLE DIGITS, AGAIN!

He not only meant to deliver uncomfortableness to this poor sweet girl, he was trying to embarrass his brothers and me in front of this giant line of folks.

My tag line on my blog and Twitter and Facebook and all my accounts is usually something along the lines of, “Abbie Gale is a writer & humorist at while raising the next cast of Jacka$$ while married to a Dr who asks her to cover her cleavage as it reminds him of work…”

I am not kidding folks.  

My life is a sitcom.

I burst into squeals between the sales girls response and the fact that my nine year-old pimped his brother to the point he sprinted out of the store and he was also able to keep a straight face when I was reacting to just, “Herbert.”

It was a fine line to not draw attention and get the gal fired…

(for being awesome and then I would have to hire her to correct my punctuation on my blog but we would be fast best friends because she is awesome, like me, the farm animal incubator)

…and still let her know that she rocked dishing it right back to my little stinker.

Yes, little tear in my eye when I realized our Build-A-Bear family circle started and ended in a ten year span, at the very same store where it all began.

Who would have ever thought two little boys, that almost made me run out of that very same store ten years ago while they crawled onto the “bathtub”, would eventually be running out embarrassed their little brother was telling the store clerk that he didn’t name his bunny “New New New Bunny” but instead “Herbert the Pervert.”

Proud.  Mom.  Moment.

Also I am pretty sure we are on a “no serve” list at “The Bear” after this one.

I am ok with it.  I have a vacation home spent on Build-A-Bears.

Abbie Gale
Abbie Gale at

Like and subscribe to my Facebook page (I am on there all day): All That Makes You
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Email me at: allthatmakesyousmile at gmail dot com
PS If you are a publisher or producer email me and I will give you my phone number. If you are Child Protective Services email me and I will give you the phone number of someone I don’t like. If you want to come and help me fold clothes and put them away I will give you my address and a big kiss.
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You might enjoy these stories and further proof the kids are all NUTS, (and they might get it from me.)

Is that a jar of mayonnaise on your head?

Ok, so it looks like this shutdown is about over.
Now onto my personal issues. My hair is so dry and fuzzy and winter isn’t even here yet. I am buying everything on Amazon that claims, “moisturizing.”
If you ring my doorbell during the “two day shipping” period I am likely to answer the door with a jar of Duke’s Mayonnaise on my head.


Because I have actually answered my door with the following…
-Rollers in
-Wax strip on my lip
-1/2 cup of olive oil in my hair
-Oatmeal and egg mask on my face
-Hair dye on
– Holding a jar of very realistic rubber rats, (hey, I was decorating and the poor cleaning lady pointing and yelling “Raton! Raton!” Still amazed she agreed to still come in.)

Frankly, it could be UPS ringing my doorbell. I wont know until I open it. I also like seeing people look a little uncomfortable at my expense. I have a little Amy Poelher in me.
It makes me chuckle.

Abbie Gale
Abbie Gale at

Like and subscribe to my Facebook pageAll That Makes You
Twitter @allthatmakesyou
Email me at:
PS If you are a publisher or producer email me and I will give you my phone number. If you are Child Protective Services email me and I will give you the phone number of someone I don’t like. If you want to come and help me fold clothes and put them away I will give you my address and a big kiss.
You might enjoy these stories and further proof the kids are all NUTS, (and they might get it from me.)