Skip to main content

Pet Peeve-O-Rama


It's Friday; time for a little pet peeve-o-rama!

1. Spouses who complain about their hubby or wife to others. Ya know, a spouse should be the ONE person in the world you can ALWAYS count on to be your biggest cheerleader. Gotta beef? Keep it between the two of you.

2. Students who don't put their name on their work. Geez, people, this is high school!! (And you've been reminded three times...sigh....)

3. Menopausal mind meltdowns. What was that thing called again?? Oh, yeah, a "pen."

4. Not minding your own business. Don't be nosy. If I want to tell you more, I will.

5. The pajamification of America. That's right, you slacker, you over there in the produce section, wearing your pajamas to the grocery store. Put on clothes - you know - the kind you wear in public. Get dressed!

6. Dressing casually for church. I don't mean a pair of clean jeans and a polo shirt. I mean the shorts and the Iron Maiden t-shirt, finished off with the flip-flops. You are in the presence of Almightly God, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. You can't put on a pair of pants and some shoes???? If you got invited to the White House for dinner, would you wear running shorts and a "Bud Light" t-shirt??? I think not...

Tune in next week for more pet peeve-o-rama!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Being faithful in the midst of pain

When we are in pain, it seems as if the whole world revolves around us - or should. We only pay attention to our immediate situation.

When our kids were younger, Eldest Son had a lot of problems. There was a time - months and months - where his issues seems to need all of Dear Husband's and my attention. I clearly remember thinking one day, "Whoa - I have GOT to pay attention to the other kids." It's not like I was neglecting them ... no, I was. Maybe it was necessary; we were literally trying to save our son's future, but it didn't make the realization hurt any less. And I couldn't get the time with them back.

Maybe it's a job. Maybe it's a health issue. Maybe it's caring for a child or an elderly parent. Whatever it is, we get sucked into a situation where hurt is involved and we begin to act like an ER doctor - plugging holes, clearing airways, keeping the person alive. That's it. We are keeping the situation alive.

Then things quiet d…

Secret Santa!!

Too old for Santa? I think not.

Yes, there are discussions as to whether we should "lie" to kids and tell them that Santa brings them gifts vs. We can't lie to the kids; it's wrong.

There is also the "Christmas is about Jesus" vs. "But Santa is magical!"

You know, we have so few magical and joyful moments, and less and less as we get older. Santa is fun. And the kids usually figure it out, and no one I know was ever scarred for life for believing that Santa brought them and every child everywhere a toy for Christmas.

It's the magic of looking up at the sky on a clear December night, thinking "I'll wait up to see Santa" and later, as you fell asleep at the window, being in your daddy's arms as he carries you to bed.

It's the magic of putting out cookies and milk (or beer, because Santa does like beer) and maybe some carrots for the reindeer, and then checking in the morning to make sure the food was all consumed.

It's…