The Girl Who Cried Redbook (but I am really in this months issue, REALLY!)

Me, (nervously texting husband Jim at his doctors office)

“Ummmm.  We are in Redbook this month.  Don’t kill me.”

A very long period of time goes by.  

I even gave him allowances in case he was resuscitating someone.

My mind wandered that he was so mad he was on his way home and I may need resuscitating.

I decide to call him.

After three rings he answers but there is no “hello” but instead he is wheezing.

I say, “Are you ok?  Did you get my text?”

He talks in Wheeze-talk which eventually turns into laugh-talking.

“Yes, Oh my word.  It’s so funny.  I pulled it up on my phone and I was showing the nurses and they don’t believe me.  They think you Photoshopped it.”

This is what happens when your wife has a reputation.

I have a Photoshop reputation.

It’s a hobby, (or my husband calls it, a distraction to keep me from filling his drawers with clean clothes.)

I call it “art” and “humor.”

I am expressing myself.

I can’t paint anything but walls in a room.

I can’t sing, despite filling the space around me with wretched attempts.

I can however, duplicate a picture of you doing something as innocent as you licking an ice cream and impose your profile onto a a picture of you licking other friends ears.

I might slap a witty caption, (I always think I am witty) like, “Now we know why her house is always so clean.”

Sometimes my friends just have it coming.

If you call me in the middle of the day and tell me there is a giant lizard in the backyard and I go out in the rain and fog to see what you are describing as, “A big a$$ lizard.  Like as big as us!”

While we are both standing on our decks, I have assembled my mignons as well because finding a Kimodo Dragon in the backyard warrants us being the coolest people in little boys eyes, (even though we would be moving soon.)

Then my kids and I are agreeing she is talking about a log.  I have her on the phone and my poor boys are looking at me like, these poor old, crazy, blind, moms are sooooo stupid.  Then I have to tell you it’s just a log.

My pity for your bad eyesight is short lived as I immediately begin to think of what it would REALLY look like to have a Komodo Dragon in our yard.

You can just expect photographs surfacing of a Komodo Dragon hanging out in the neighborhood and me posting the sightings on my Facebook page.

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I will let you explain when people start commenting on my Facebook page.

I am ten years older than you so I can bust your chops that your vision is worse than mine.

Of course, I let my children investigate each time another “sighting” was reported.  This keeps them busy as I am always looking for things to keep my three boys busy.

They deduced their mom was the culprit and then questioned whether or not they are actually my children or if I Photoshopped them as babies with me in the hospital.

But we really, really are in Februaries Redbook.

I have been taking pictures of the magazine when I come across.

I mean, how often will I be in a national magazine?  

 He tells everyone he is on the “hot husbands” page. I told you he is funny.

I did make the front page of my local paper today but I will save that for another story.

So here is the thing.  I was interviewed by the reporter and my husband immediately turned into a turd, (or I did, I don’t know) and I almost HOMICIDED him!  Wouldn’t that have been awesome?  So I would have made the FRONT page of a magazine if I was doling out marriage advice and then pushed Jim off the roof while putting up Christmas lights?  Oh, that’s right…I couldn’t push him off the roof because it was ME PUTTING THEM UP.

The good news is that by the time they printed it he transformed into a normal husband again, (and the stress of the holidays and our fundraiser were over.)

With that, I count my blessings that I was NOT on the front of a magazine, but instead inside.

Have you ever been in a magazine?  What was it for?  Were you bad?  I thought for sure I would make a magazine one day but it would be for like “what not to wear” or “mother missing after making mayor cry” kind of story.

If you need any advice, remember my name is Abbie…Dear Abbie.  I like to tell people what to do.

Now get your fingers clicking because I may have mentioned if I make it into the “Circle of Moms” top 25 funniest mom blogs I would take a picture of my freaky cup-holder-belly-button and you would NOT want to miss that.  Especially if you do not value your eye sight, (that’s right read it again.)

You can vote one a day and there is only a week left.

Get clicking!

Vote here for Abbie at Circle of Moms

It is easy, just a click.  PLLLLEEEAAASEE.

I am going to go do crunches.

Who am I kidding?

Abbie Gale at allthatmakesyou.com

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You May see me on a Walmart People Website

I know it looks like I am a stripper but the wig is actually my husbands.

And if you do, you’re a freak. I hope you pee your pants laughing at my expense.

 

 

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