Catholic Moms Gone Wild











{April 27, 2007}   She Knows Sweet Anyway

Rating: Granny

I am laughing wildly exiting the grocery store.

I, Cheap Sweet Wine, have been hit up for wine recommendations. (I can’t even type that without giggling.)

As I check out with my notorious cheap sweet wine, the young cashier says, “Oh. Wow. That’s cheap! You like it? Is it sweet?”

Of course, you see me smiling and nodding my head. “Love it actually and yes, sweet is a requirement.

The cashier continues, “Because I’m always looking for sweet wine I like. I want to try that Gewurtz…gewurtztr…”

Gewürztraminer. Ah. Not sweet enough for me. But you might like an Ice Riesling.

Cashier: Oh. Not sweet enough… Riesling you say?

No. Ice Wine Riesling. St. Chapelle. Try that. But it’s more expensive. And I still prefer the cheap wine. Seriously.

Now the bagger has to get into it: “I like red wine.”

Oh… sweet? You might try Rosa Regale.

Now if I could only have worked in Nobilo and what I think of that, I could have left the store having reached the end of and shared the whole of my knowledge and lack thereof regarding wine.

Thank you my dear friends; without you, where would that conversation have gone today…


Site Search Tags: , ,



{April 23, 2007}   Notorious Cherry Bombs

Rating: Bikini

It’s Hard To Kiss The Lips At Night That Chew Your Ass Out All Day Long



{April 23, 2007}   Bare-assed

Rating: Commando

I was asked when I was going to post something embarrassing…. the thing is, I am not easily embarrassed. However, today I was bare-assed, but I will get to that in a minute.

In situations where some people get embarrassed, I usually am just amused. The worse it is, the harder I tend to laugh. Things that have others hiding under the table will get me laughing so hard, I will have tears rolling down my face.

At any rate, I spent the day doing some carpentry stuff and was in a pair of cut-offs and a tank top and covered with sawdust out in the shop when dh got home. Me in cut-offs and using power tools must be a big turn-on or something, because my presence in our bedroom was requested, ASAP.

I am not a freak about it, but I am not a nudist by nature. My kiddos really don’t need to be walking in on me when I am taking a shower or anything else I may be doing that requires the removal of clothing, and I was pretty sure we were about to do the “anything else”. I thought he had closed and locked the door. He thought I had closed and locked the door. (You can’t see the door from the room because it is around a corner.)

We kissed (and such) for a few minutes, and decided the sawdust wasn’t such a turn-on, so I hopped into the shower while he put away his laundry and changed out of his work clothes. He was laying on the bed in his tidy-whities looking at a catalog when I came out of our bathroom.

FORTUNATELY we were just talking at the critical moment.

I was standing there, naked, drying my back with a towel. Dh was laying on the bed in his underwear facing me and talking to about some guitar in his Sweetwater catalog.

Enter the 15 year old. Apparently the door wasn’t locked (or even shut) after all! Now, she is a smart enough girl to know that her mom and dad have had sex more than 4 times. In fact, her room is right below ours, so I am pretty sure that she has been aware of that for quite some time now. But to walk in on us?!?

She stopped and she stood there for a split second before she let out a sound that was something like a chicken laying a really big egg. The look of horror on her face will be forever etched into my brain, and I, Mother of the Year, started laughing.

You see, we weren’t doing anything………. yet.

She turned tail and was gone. I quickly wrapped the towel around me and tried to follow her explaining that I had just gotten out of the shower, that we weren’t doing anything (yet), but I couldn’t stop laughing. I was just quick enough to see the top of her head as she disappeared into the basement exclaiming that she was scarred for life. (“Again???” I wondered.)

I could tell she wasn’t actually upset, just grossed out and a teensy bit disturbed (nothing that can’t be fixed years from now in therapy), so I returned to our bedroom. Laughing my ass off.

This time I locked the door.

As I turn to talk to dh, I let the towel fall to the floor. I am still laughing as I am walking toward the bed, telling him what she said, and something outside catches my eye. Oh. My. It is a friend of dh’s sitting in his truck part-way up our driveway, stopped with his mouth open.

A guy we go to church with who now happens to accidentally have a great view of our bedroom in that tall truck of his. (NOT the kind of guy who will tease us about it later…. more like the kind of guy who acts embarrassed and will go home wondering why the blind wasn’t shut.) I dropped and crab-crawled to the bathroom.

Okay, so this time I didn’t laugh.



{April 21, 2007}   Adventures in the Library

Rating: Bikini

Why am I the only one having utterly embarrassing moments throughout my day, every day?

I think it was one of the gals here who told me about Diamant’s The Red Tent. Today I stop by the library to check it out. The card catalog states that it is located in “Adult Paperback.” Right. I’m thinking, “Adult paperback? Is that like in a seedy room in the back?”

Nevertheless I am undaunted and go in search of the Adult paperback section. I happen upon the spinning carousel of “adult” paperbacks in the Harlequin Romance vein and think, “No… can’t be.” It wasn’t.

I have now traveled around our library three times thinking “I can not ask where this is. I’ll grab the large print version first,” but I can’t bring myself to deprive those with poor eyesight of a book solely because I would rather not ask about adult paperbacks.

Then I figure that maybe it’s not the kind of “adult” I was thinking even though I’m already aware this is a controversial book on our forums. It must just be to distinguish it from Hank the Cowdog paperbacks for kids.

I summon my courage and walk up to the only library worker in sight… fifteen-ish year old boy. “Excuse me, I’m looking for The Red Tent. It says it’s in ‘Adult paperback,’ but I just don’t know where that is.”

He leads me back to the very back of the library (I’m thinking there is something risqué here) and hands me the book. I smile, thank him and I am out of there.

As I walk to my car, I notice that my white button down blouse is unbuttoned at the top where it most certainly should be buttoned. Good grief. Certainly not gaping open, but mortifying nonetheless.

I am not certain that I have what it takes to make it in a small town, but I do know that moving could not come at a better time.


Site Search Tags: , ,



{April 18, 2007}   Work It

Rating: Thong

Swears and Drinks and I were chatting about husbands and a small quandary S&D’s has gotten her into.

Cheap Sweet Wine: Well…. if they hit you with a fee, I’d call. I’ve gotten them to waive it before just by asking.

S&D: Good idea.

CSW: You just mention that this sort of thing never happens and since you’ve been such a loyal customer, could they consider… etc.

S&D: Exactly!

CSW: We’re women, honey, work it.

S&D: Shame they can’t see cleavage over the phone.

CSW: Howling. (Oh, can I blog that?!? Puh-leeze?!?)

S&D: Laughing, yeah.

CSW: Thanks; I was taking the laugh as permission.

S&D: I hope these people realize I would never DO half the stuff I SAY.

CSW: With your cleavage and my mouth, we are going to be TROUBLE.

CSW: Oh. Man. We are NOT blogging that! I can’t believe I just said that. Laughing.

S&D: HOWLING.

CSW: I can’t see.

S&D: I’m just dying here.

CSW: Me too. Okay. Maybe we can blog that. Laughing. Very anonymously.

S&D: Man we are some kinda team huh?

CSW: I would say we feed off each other but I’m too afraid of the fallout.

S&D: Laughing out loud. See above.

CSW: I’m crying. I KNOW.

S&D: Gives fall out a whole. new. meaning.

CSW: Laughing so hard. Whew boy. You go read.

S&D: I don’t know if I can show my face there.

CSW: Well, I’m afraid I’ve had all the fun with you I can bear. I’ve got to soon jump up and go.

S&D: Okay, I need to get off myself.

CSW: Yep. And hey, in case you don’t hear it tonight… you’re a fun date. Laughing.

S&D: Smile. Thank you. So are you… or so I hear. There’s this blog…


Site Search Tags: , , , ,



{April 18, 2007}   Vulcan Mind Probe


Rating: Bikini

Friends don’t let friends order ouzo. Okay? You ladies knew exactly what that was and when I asked, told me, and I quote, “Google it.” It didn’t sound so bad, but mixed with Bacardi 151 in something called a Vulcan Mind Probe, it is b.a.d.

So everything I knew didn’t come out my mouth, but then again, the next thing I said was, “That is not going to be my favorite. I’ll try an Orgasm. Those are more my flavors.”

Amaretto, Bailey’s, Kahlua, and Cream. Oh now that is a drink Cheap Sweet Wine can get into. Y’all should’ve been there.

Actually, anyone should have been there. I decided to go for a walk along our lake last night. It was cold and I found myself surrounded by these blazingly annoying gulls. Or little white birds. Whatever. As I head back to my car, I’m conveniently parked by our bar.

I walk in and ask, “Can I order up here?” So I set myself down at the bar and voilà, I’m having soup, a Vulcan Mind Probe and an Orgasm.

I met a lovely older man who offered to buy me a drink. After what I’d just had, I knew I couldn’t take another sip, so I told him “No thanks.” He asked if I worked and I said, “No,” to which he looked surprised.

“You don’t work?”

“No. I’m married.”

To this he looked horrified and stammered, “I’m married too. Very married. 43 years married.”

I realized that I do not know how to “do” the bar scene. I smiled and told him, “Yes, my point is that I don’t work; he does.” From there we were able to have a much more calm conversation.

So relaxing as it was to be out, sans kids, I find that I truly require a chaperone.

And I will maintain that as my friends you really, really, should have told me what I was getting into long before I got cute and ordered something up from Greece.


Site Search Tags: , ,



{April 13, 2007}   Virgins Awaiting

Nuns in Paradise

Much to their surprise, the Virgins awaiting Muslims in Heaven were not quite what they expected.



{April 13, 2007}   Brazilians Re-Visited

mikimoto-cropped.jpgRating: Brazilian

So I was on the phone with a friend. (No I don’t do anything “real” with my life. Look at my avatar! Does that look like a woman that cleans house!?…if only…) And she mentioned reading a post on-line concerning the morality of “Brazilians” and she went to her husband and asked, “SO. If I got a Brazilian, would you find that attractive?” The answer? “Oh YEAH!…except….I wouldn’t like the idea that someone had done it. That’s MY territory.”

Now all we have to do is figure out a way to have ‘immaculate brazilians’ or would that be ‘v irgin brazilians’? Clearly a question for a day when I’ve had a glass of the good stuff.


Site Search Tags: , , ,

Technorati: ,



{April 12, 2007}   Children and Confession

mikimoto-cropped.jpgRating: Bloomers. (so tame we are wondering why it’s on this blog and not one of our public ones.)

So I am on the phone with Cheap Sweet Wine and we are talking about the experiences we have had taking our children to confession. One of these days my middle child (Thundercloud) is going to stop provoking fits of giggles outside the confessional by learning to moderate his voice. CSW wonders what the HECK her daughter (Heartbreaker) could possibly have to confess that keeps her in the confessional so long. But that’s not what the focus of this post is about. No….leave it to us flawed moms to figure out a way to dirty our ownselves with sin while taking our children to confess theirs.

CSW confesses to becoming QUITE irritated at Heartbreaker’s lengthy examination of conscience in the back of the church and then to her politely letting about 12 people in line in front of her. CSW then went to her dh and said bad things about her pious daughter. Didn’t Dante adress this in Inferno in a little know addendum to this famous work? The Eleventh circle of hell is reserved for parents who find ways to become irritated at their children’s piety.

And please tell me that I am NOT the only one who has children that leave confession and then fight with each other in the car on the way home. I am not kidding you when I say I have said firmly…ok! ok! in the interest of not having to confess this as a lie…I hollered at them, “You will stop that bickering RIGHT THIS SECOND or I will turn this car around and you will go to confession all over again. I am certain that Father is still in the confessional and you can start out ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been FIFTEEN MINUTES since my last confession.’” They thought it was funny.

And you’ll notice I didn’t turn the car around for me to take another shot at confession after yelling at them. Deep sigh. I’m a work in progress.


Site Search Tags: , , ,



{April 12, 2007}   Sign Up Here

Rating: Granny