Humor Break Featuring Little Johnny

I love my girl Negril. I rely on her for relatively inappropriate humor because she knows the geography of my funny bone. As I fight a migraine today, I leave you with the ongoing antics of Little Johnny as Negril dropped them in my inbox. I saved the relationship humor for last. Now I'm off to partake of the miracle wonder called "Excedrin Migraine"...

Little Johnny on Beauty Products:
Little Johnny watched, fascinated, as his mother smoothed cold cream on her face. 'Why do you do that, mommy?' he asked. 'To make myself beautiful,' said his mother, who then began removing the cream with a tissue. 'What's the matter?' asked Little Johnny.. 'Giving up?'

Little Johnny on Law Enforcement:
Little Johnny's kindergarten class was on a field trip to their local police station where they saw pictures tacked to a bulletin board of the 10 most wanted criminals. One of the youngsters pointed to a picture and asked if it really was the photo of a wanted person. 'Yes,' said the policeman. 'The detectives want very badly to capture him.'Lit tle Johnny asked, 'Why didn't you keep him when you took his picture ?'

Little Johnny on Inspecting Products Before Purchase:
Little Johnny attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse's legs and rump, and chest. After a few minutes, Johnny asked, 'Dad, why are you doing that?' His father replied, 'Because when I'm buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy. Johnny, looking worried, said, "Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom..."

And now a break for the Tiger...

I know I just returned to the blog. I know you're waiting to hear what's-up in the land of Her Side and the elusive His Side. But I need to stop by and say something about our nation's current fascination with Tiger Woods' bedroom shenanigans.

Stop it.

Just stop it.

Even if that poor man wanted to reconcile with his wife, our prying-ass nosey eyes are making the man's plight difficult. Not too long ago, I would have quickly recruited myself to team Leave His Triflin Ass. But I slowly find myself creeping to the sidelines of team Make Dat Shit Work. Because folks want the fairy tale ending without the big bad wolf or the evil stepmother.

Not one day in my life will I condone cheating. Even if you spouse is a first-class jerk. Leave their ass first. But I'm all for couples looking for ways to reconcile such breaches before the lawyers get their grubby hands on the assets.

Can we leave the Tiger alone long enough to pay attention to the shit in our closets?

I'll do my best to say-no-more about this, but ooooooooh, I'm just itching to debate all theories from sex addiction to the stress of the good-boy image.

Would somebody be kind enough to stop me from turning this into a series???

Dammit People... I KNOW!

I can just see y'all walking through the blog... staring at the blank walls... kicking at the dust... and shaking your heads about how abandoned this place has become.

Pass me a broom and STFU.

I'm not sure why I haven't been writing. Almost every day, my thoughts lead me to questions, answers, and personal commentary perfectly fit to share with you here.

But my body won't make the trip. My limbs won't cooperate in the terror of sharing what has been going on, what I have been thinking, or my comfort level in walking towards the uncertainty called "tomorrow."
So I stopped in today after taking a trip to The Breakup Diaries.

Part of me keeps waiting to write because I like things all wrapped-up... like the resolution of family issues in a single 1/2 hour TV spot. But this shit is a process. A PRAH...SESS. I'll be 50 by the time I could box this story and present it to you with a bow.

My real goal today:
To break the ice for a return to the blog I love to hate.

Balancing Hope and Disappointment After a Breakup, Part 3 of ?

The words of BSEW regular, Big Mark, triggered this series for sure. He offered the following words to describe the His Side/Her Side split (and pinpointed a deep feeling that I had yet to specify on my own):

Keeping the disappointment from mixing with the hopes is a challenge for sure.

So instead of cussing out Big Mark for swimming around in my head and finding the words I couldn't even express, I decided to blog about it. LOL

Continued from Part 2, which I had to break apart because it was becomming its own damn book...

= = = = = = = = = = = =

The weekend ended when His Side returned to his cousin's house, tried to call me, but I was on the phone with an old friend that I reconnected with. The old friend was a flame in my late teens, and we've had a good time catching-up on all the changes that 20 years can bring. His Side Lost. His. Mind.... first when the reconnection was revealed through the magic of Facebook friends lists, and then when His Side actually couldn't reach me because my phone was busy. The nerve of me using my phone. Based on the accusation, clearly old friends only reconnect to make plans for hot steamy affairs... right?

Anyway, I take ownership of three mistakes I made in this process:

1. I underestimated the challenge ahead of me and got loose on my watch.

2. I greatly underestimated how difficult it would be for His Side to fight his own personal battle with hope and dissapointment.

3. I didn't take the sage advice to go "no contact" for at least 30 days straight after the breakup. Somewhere deep inside me, a naive hopeful girl believes friendship should never die. Well part of that girl died this past weekend. She needed to. And the next time I see her, I'm gonna slap her in the mouwf.

Everything happens for a reason. (Dammit. Another cliche I couldn't avoid because of the unmistakable truth at its core. But I digress...) Even our mistakes become springboards for lessons that we need to learn. I count this the tuning point in successfully balancing hope wiht disappointment.

I suspect there will be a Part 4 to this series. Shit, I may do like Rocky, forget when to stop making more "parts," and just continue this until I'm too old to box I complete all the transitions that come with the territory.

Holla at me in the comments... even if it's to spank me for being dense. Y'all know I can take it.