Category Archives: Blogging

Mrs. Cap’n Firepants Trades Nothing for Something and Ends Up Playing for the Philadelphia Phillies

So, first of all, I am totally psyched that The Daily Show returns tonight.  My daughter wants to become a teacher because she gets summers off.  I said, “No, you need to be Jon Stewart because he gets two weeks off for every holiday, plus the entire summer – in both hemispheres.”  Not that I’m bitter or anything.  Just suffering from separation anxiety.

“Who’s Jon Stewart?” my daughter asked.


In other news, my anti-depressants seem to be somewhat working, which means my That-Idea-is-Stupid-Filter is working again.  Which means it’s very difficult to think of blog topics.  The only reason I am typing anything now is because I forgot to take my lunchtime dose, so my filter is being stomped down by the amazingly strong irritation that I begin to feel when things start wearing off.

I always thought people were idiots for refusing to take their medication because they lost their creativity, and now I’m beginning to understand it a bit.  I mean, it’s nice to go 12 hours without feeling an overwhelming desire to slit my wrists, but it does seem like I generate a whole lot more writing ideas when I’m miserable.

I don’t see why there has to be a trade-off.  I mean, there is such a thing as getting something for nothing, despite what your mother may have told you.  I just heard about Mike Cisco being traded to the Los Angeles Angels for no compensation.  Nada.  (That means “nothing”, right?  I mean, I’ve never really checked, but I’m just guessing from the context clues.  If it means something else, and it happens to be offensive, I completely apologize.)

So, anyway, the Angels got Cisco for nothing.  I don’t see why I can’t get my sanity for nothing.  My sanity certainly doesn’t effect as many people as a baseball player, who I admit I never heard of, but whose trade qualifies him for the Yahoo sports page.  You’re not going to see my trade on any sports page, so I’m pretty sure that means that I am worth less than Cisco.  Ergo, I should get my sanity for less than nothing.

Reading that over, it seems like there might be some fault in that logic, but I can’t really be bothered with such trifling trivialities.  It’s almost time for The Daily Show and my bulldog is demanding my presence on our armchair.  And if Jon Stewart talks about the Cisco trade, I want all of you to be my witness that I brought it up first.  That’s what he gets for going on a two week vacation.

The problem is, I don't have a trading card.  I need to work on from:

The problem is, I don’t have a trading card. I need to work on that.
photo from:

Mixed Messages I Give My Daughter

Don’t tell my daughter that I said this, but it is entirely possible that our communication difficulties do not stem from the fact that she does not listen well enough, but rather from the fact that I talk too much…

“You can talk to me about anything.”


“No, you can’t watch The Big Bang Theory.”  Because they talk about sex, and then you might want to talk to me about something.


“Yes, you must go to bed at 8:00. It’s important for you to get a good night’s sleep.”


“You better finish that homework; I don’t care if you have to stay up until midnight.”


“You don’t need makeup.  You look beautiful exactly as you are.”


“Would you please stay still for two seconds so I can glop your lashes with mascara?” (It turns out that in synchronized swimming, natural beauty is not quite enough.)


“You should always take your time to do your best on your work.”


“Aren’t you finished, yet?  Why on earth are you taking so long?”


“Do not put personal information on the internet.”


“Do you mind if I blog about your most embarrassing moment?”


“You shouldn’t base your decisions on what other people think.”


“You should be part of this special group because the Principal invited you, and that means she thinks very highly of you.  Plus, she’s my boss.”


“You should follow your passion.”


“Are you kidding?!!  Do you have any idea how much horseback riding lessons cost?”


“I really wish you would be more adventurous and try to eat different foods.”


“I don’t care if she’s one of your friends!  When someone offers you a mysterious white substance from a Ziplock bag at lunch, YOU DO NOT ACCEPT!” (It turned out to be sea salt.)

This is All I’ve Got – Pretty Sad, Huh?

I am working on a very rambly ranting post that isn’t quite ready for public consumption, yet, so today I am giving you a bunch of random little observations from the last week.

Overheard behind me at a swim meet:
“What generation is your iPhone?”
I have an iPod 5.”
“Gosh, when I was your age, I was happy to have crayons and a coloring book.”
I turn around. “How old are you?” I asked the senior citizen with braces and an iPhone 4s.
“14.” She turned to the iPod 5 owner, “Just wait until you’re in your teens. That’s when you feel old.”

In my classroom:
“Okay, everyone, I’m going to take you back to your classes a couple of minutes before 9:30 so you can go to the program.”
“Is that the letter of the law or the spirit of the law?” one student asked, stopping me in my tracks.
“Uh, what do you mean?”
Exactly 2 minutes or around 2 minutes before?”
Yeah, I think I’m going to get sued by a six-year-old for getting him to back to class 30 seconds late.

In my home:
I was sitting on the armchair with Wonderbutt, our bulldog. My daughter walked into the living room, took a look in our direction, reached up, and yanked on the chain to turn off the overhead light.
I yelped, “Hey! What the heck? You didn’t even ask me if I wanted the light off!”
“I just thought Wonderbutt would sleep better with the lights turned off.”
He was already snoring and drooling in my lap. How much “better” did he need to sleep?
1 hour later, my husband did the same exact thing. For the same exact reason.
The only law in this house is the Law of Wonderbutt.

If the tongue is out, that pretty much means he is down for the night - no matter how much light there is.

If the tongue is out, that pretty much means he is down for the night – no matter how much light there is.

Look at ME!


photo credit: GlacierTim via photopin cc

photo credit: GlacierTim via photopin cc

I have had the great honor of having Renee over at Life in the Boomer Lane reblog one of my older posts (with my permission, of course).  You should totally check out another one of my sad but true stories here, and read the other recent posts on her blog, such as How to Score a Husband by Valentine’s Day 2014.  As an added bonus, careful readers might discover a bit more about me that I have never revealed on this blog – and I’m not talking about the fact that I sometimes go without a bra.


In Your Face, Facebook!

I love it when scientific studies positively reinforce my choice to neglect something that is supposedly good for me.  No matter that the choice is based on laziness or stubbornness, or both, on my part.  Science. Says.  I’m right.

My sister, Crash, decided that, since I refused to resolve to do anything for the new year, she would decide what I needed to do.  Her goal for me is to join Facebook.  She informed me of this goal a couple of times, and then nagged gently prodded me by sending me an e-mail invitation to view her Facebook pictures.

If you’ve read my highly engaging and slightly entertaining post, “Don’t Hate Me Because I Don’t Like You”, then you are aware of my feelings about Facebook.  If you haven’t read that post, you are probably still aware of my feelings about Facebook, considering that: it is 2013, I am 40-something years old, my sister is trying to browbeat me into using it, and I don’t like anyone.

I was starting to crumble under the pressure.  To be honest, I’m beginning to tire of conversations that go like this :

“Hey, are you going to Selena’s baby shower?”

“What?  I didn’t know she was having a baby!”

“She isn’t.  Her daughter is.”

“Oh my God!  She has a daughter?!!!”

“You really need to check your Facebook.  By the way, are you and your husband having problems?  His latest status is ‘single’.”

Now I know that last one is not true.  Because my husband does not have a Facebook account, either.  I think.

Anyway, the point is that I was starting to feel a bit left out because people keep forgetting to tell me things in person since they figure I already know because it’s posted on their Facebook page.  I was beginning to think I will be the only one sitting in a chair with my bulldog, reading Little Women, while the rest of the nation burrows into bomb shelters – all because the End of the World got announced on Facebook instead of the Emergency Broadcast System.

And then I heard the news report.

“Facebook Makes You Fat!”

I knew it!  I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t do it.

According to the SCIENTIFIC study, Facebook makes you fat because it makes you feel “popular and happy” about your image.  More self-esteem gives you less self-control.

Ah hah!  My evil sister is trying to give me more self-esteem!

I knew she always hated me.

I introduce you to the face of my sister, Crash.  She does not have self-esteem issues.

I introduce you to the face of my sister, Crash. She does not have self-esteem issues.  And she’s not fat.  She defies scientific explanation.

Let’s Try This Again

I am very disappointed in you guys. And, you should not interpret this as any kind of projection of the disappointment in myself that I might be feeling due to the fact that my computer crashed this weekend and I hadn’t backed it up yet.

I just took a gander at my 2012 resolutions for all of you, and you have sadly fallen short on your goals.

The fact that, according to my trusty Googleometer, Toddlers and Tiaras just started a new season shows a blatant defiance of at least three of the resolutions I laid out for you guys. Since I have not read about any recent adult human zoo exhibitions, I guess I can only assume that you have so many samples to choose from, that you cannot decide who would be the best person to stick inside an enclosure.

I am happy to see that you followed my directive to not vote for Donald Trump. Thanks for throwing me that little bone, at least.

I guess no doctors read my blog, as the resolution to see your patients on time does not seem to have been adhered to, according to my sources. And you didn’t cure cancer. As that was really the only goal directly related to saving people’s lives, and technically only had to be accomplished by one person to satisfy the demand, I have to say I am really bummed that that one got no traction.

In retrospect, I guess you could say that I probably overreached a bit with last year’s list. So, this year, I’m just going to give you one thing to do. Well, actually two.

I’m rolling over the cancer curing command. And even though I am erasing the rest of last year’s list, I would like to gently suggest that it will probably be a little more difficult to accomplish this if you are wasting your time watching Toddlers and Tiaras.

Número two-o is to back up your computer. And this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I just lost my favorite recipe for Nestlé chocolate chip cookies as related to me by Phoebe Buffay when my own computer committed Hari Kari a couple of days ago.

The truth is, if you discover the cure for cancer, and your computer crashes and you have no backup, you’re going to be pretty upset with yourself.

Or so I would imagine.

PS – I can’t figure out how to caption pictures using my iPad WordPress app. And this was one of the few pictures in my photo library I could include. So, I’m sorry that it has nothing to do with my post. But I’m working with a handicap here, so I hope you will cut me some slack. Even though I didn’t cut you any.

A Note on the Previous Post (Read This First if You Haven’t Already Read the Other One – Or Not. I Apparently Have No Control Over You.

So, I thought that when I was invited to add a comment to my “Reblog” that my words of wisdom would appear before the reblog, not after.  It kind of defeats the purpose for me to ramble on after you’ve already read the reblog.  But it’s too late now, unless I delete the reblog.  But then I would have to delete this.  And that is entirely too much of my afternoon wasted – a whole ten minutes – so, I will let you figure this whole thing out on your own.

Aren’t you glad I only post every other day now?  Imagine the craziness if I did this every 24 hours…

I Might as Well Violate the Law of Italics While I’m At It

So, now that the Pope has officially endorsed my Harry Potter Nativity scene, I feel like I can finally stop walking around with a rosary in my pocket in the hopes of warding off any lightning strikes.

Yes, I am perfectly aware that the above sentence pretty much guarantees that even a rosary can’t protect me now.

But the Pope did admit that things probably didn’t happen the way we’ve been lead to believe for the last thousand years.  No angels singing, no animals gathered around the manger.  No Little Drummer Boy pa-rum-pum-pum-pumming.  So, I think it’s safe to conclude that we don’t know that Hagrid and Dumbledore weren’t standing around during the Holy Parturition (learned a new word today – look at me, using my online thesaurus in a fruitful manner!).  It’s possible.

Speaking of this admittedly unlikely, but not completely impossible, rendition of the epitome of Blessed Events, I committed another Googling sin yesterday, and was surprised (as I always am) by the results.

I don’t know if you do this, too, but I like to Google some of my former blog topics that I think were completely, astoundingly unique – just so I can see my post title at the top of the Google results page.  For some reason, that gives me a sense of satisfaction – knowing that pretty much no one else in the world ever thought about writing about this particular topic.  Of course, that also usually means that no one is particularly interested in that topic, so it doesn’t really increase my blog stats to be number one on the Google search results.  I tend to ignore that depressing fact, though.

So, I Googled “Harry Potter Nativity”, and was predictably gratified to discover that I was still at the top.  But then, I noticed in the image results that the picture from my post was not #1. And then I noticed that there was an actual image of a “Harry Potter Nativity”!  What the heck?  Someone else had this idea?

Now, I’m depressed.


This is quite blasphemous. Someone needs to tell the artist that, according to the Pope, there were no animals in the scene.

Unfortunately, despite my Super Duper Holmesian Google Detective skills, I am unable to actually figure out who had this idea.  I’ve narrowed it down to someone on this site:, but I apparently do not have Super Duper Holmesian Detective skills, because my searches either turn up nothing (Harry Potter Nativity – no results) or too much (Harry Potter – 67 pages of results).

So, I would like to tip my hat to the clever crafter who reduced my ego to ashes (don’t worry; like Fawkes the Phoenix, my ego will rise again), but I will, instead, be spending the rest of my evening Googling “spells to ward off vengeful lighting strikes” and “Cap’n Firepants and Wonderbutt” in doomed-to-fail attempts to avoid an argument with my insurance company over the exact meaning of “acts of God” and to revive my very damaged self-esteem.


Firepants Foolishness

It's okay, Wonderbutt.  I won't tell Guap you ate his cake.  And his present.

It’s okay, Wonderbutt. I won’t tell Guap you ate his cake. And his present.

Some of you may know the notorious El Guapo (which my computer wants to spell as “guano”), and revel in his Friday Foolishness posts.  Well, today is his birthday, and a group of us who have run out of other blogging topics decided that we might as well wish him Happy Birthday.  Trust me, it’s better than the post I was planning to do on the three ants in my class ant farm who refuse to die.

So, Happy Birthday to you, El Guapo!  May you have many, many more Foolish Fridays!

In honor of you, Guap, today’s song is “Not Dead Yet” from Spamalot.

And, no tribute to El Guapo is complete without a poll:

Showing Off Runs in the Family

Me:  Hey, do you mind when I come over and say hi to you when I see you at school?  I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends, or anything.  I mean, I know you’re in 5th grade and the whole friend thing is important.

Dimples:  I don’t mind.  I kind of like showing you off.

Well, that kind of made my day.  Being brand new to this whole “teaching at my daughter’s school” thing has made me a bit wary of violating her space – particularly when she races ahead of me into the school in the mornings instead of walking by my side.  Her excuse, “My tennis shoes are so light that I just have to run.”  My interpretation, “I can’t be seen hanging around my mommy.”

She doubled the whammy by informing me the next day with a proud grin on her face, “My teacher says that I look like you.”

That almost erased the comment from a Kindergartner I’d received earlier that day when he looked at my photo badge.  “You were younger when you took that picture, weren’t you?”  And his next question, after examining it more carefully, “How much younger?”

I tried to console myself that everyone is younger in their pictures – even if they were just taken 5 seconds ago – but it took the ego boosts from Dimples to turn my day back around.

Before the next Kindergartner slays me with another brutally honest comment (thank goodness none of them witnessed my wardrobe malfunction on the first day), I’ve decided it’s time to do another roundup of Awards-Recently-Added-to-My-Awards-Shelf just to let everyone know that some people seem to appreciate the not-so-young Mrs. Cap’n Firepants.

Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award from She Can’t Be Serious

Reader’s Appreciation Award (hand-drawn!!!!) from Miranda Gargasz at Scattering Moments

Strong Person Award from Aja at Writing and Recovering

I Loves my Bloggie Furriends Award from Chancy and Mumsy

The Sensual Blogger Award from Anon Con at Consciously Anonymous

The only ones that I still need to pass on are the Sensual Blogger Award and the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award.  Since I am passive aggressive, in addition to all of my other admirable traits, and never really follow the rules of Blog Awards, and there are too many female bloggers that I LOVE to choose from, I’ve decided to pass these both on to A MAN!!!!!!  Yes, Guapola, you’ve been tapped as a Sensual Member of the Sisterhood.  Here is your award, and I hope you do a little dance and Show ’em Off!!!!!


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