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art projects, cats, Child, creativity, Film, Gretchen Wilson, Gulf War, humor, Mother, Movies, music, New York Times, parenting, Redneck Woman, Valentines Day, writing
A very short Valentine’s Day story:
I’ve always said that our relationship was based on the two purest human feelings: pity and hunger. Back in our college days, I was cooking a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at our apartment when my roommate Max dragged in a couple of grad students she knew would be alone on the holiday. One was a tall thin guy who didn’t say two words to me but ate everything that came within reach. We were married two years later. It’s been almost forty years, and he’s still my valentine!
Here’s a Valentines Day excerpt from my new book, Life Begins When The Kids Leave Home And The Dog Dies
Chapter 40: Valentine’s Day BC (BEFORE Children) vs AD (AFTER Delivery)
In the years before children (BC) I considered myself a reasonably cultured person.
- Books? I bought them in hardbound so I’d be early enough to disagree with the review in the New York Times.
- Movies? I saw them before Siskel & Ebert.
(Barb’s Guide to Films: if the characters kiss a lot, have sex, and then kill each other, it’s American. If the characters smoke a lot, have sex, and then kill themselves, it’s foreign.)
- Music? I once sat through an entire performance of Nixon in China. On purpose.
- Food? I ate pasta before they stopped calling it spaghetti. Even before you could get squid-ink pasta with arugula oil at the Piggly Wiggly.
- News and Current Events? I cared about who won the Booker Prize. Really.
But in the years AD (After Delivery) things changed.
- Books? After spending three hours in the children’s section of the library picking out 47 titles in the “Shelley’s Sleepover Surprise” series for my daughters and another 35 of “Sammy Skunk Surprises Shelley” for my son, I only had time to grab whatever adult library books haven’t yet been reshelved as I was checking out. Some titles I totally did not make up: Do It Yourself Coffin for Pets, Snow Caves for Fun and Survival, 101 Uses for a Dead Cat (Actually, this one was useful — we’ve had lots of cats.)
- Movies? If it didn’t feature an animated rodent, I didn’t see it.
- Music? I’d sing “Shake, shake, shake my sillies out” along with the Raffi tape. Then I’d realize two things. I knew all the words. And I was only one in the car.
- Food? We favored restaurants where the paper-wrapped entrees came boxed with a plastic surprise. Occasionally we scored a babysitter (preferably someone new in town who hadn’t heard about that incident involving the four-year-old, the banana, sixteen metal miniature cars, and the microwave) and we went to a restaurant with cassoulet and candles instead of children and ketchup. But I still had an uncontrollable urge to grab a stack of napkins “just in case” and to cut up somebody’s meat. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to eat fast because when the food arrived, somebody would announce that they hafta go right now.
- News? Luckily not much happened from mid-80’s to mid-90’s. Until the Gulf War, I only turned on the news to find out which day it was so I wouldn’t miss trash pickup. Again. Of course, in 1989 I did have to tune in for the Collapse of Godless Communism and the Triumph of Western Ideals of Freedom, Capitalism, and Fast Food Franchises. And the Kennedy rape trial.
UPDATE: With the departure of Child #4, I’ve now graduated from AD to LBWKLH&DD**.
**(A priest, a minister and a rabbi were talking about when life begins. The priest said: “Life begins at conception.” The minister said: “Life begins when the fetus is viable.” The rabbi said: “Life begins when the kids leave home and the dog dies.”)
- Books and Music? Thanks to e-book readers and noise-cancelling headphones, I now sit on public transportation and nobody can tell I’m actually reading Debby & the Duke do Dallas while listening to Gretchen Wilson’s Redneck Woman, (although I get some odd looks when I belt the “Hell, Yeah’s” out loud…)
- Movies? Playing catch-up. Apparently some movies in the 80s and 90s did not have animated rodents. Who knew?
- Food? I live in England. I can only dream of In-N-Out Burgers…
- News? Thanks to Twitter, I’m on it. #trending, #Kate Middleton, #babybump
Of course, the one day of the year that really separates the BCs, the ADs, and the LBWKLH&DDs is Valentine’s Day. From the recession, I know that eating in is the new eating out. From watching Hallmark commercials, I know that Mr. BC arrives with flowers, candy and a card expressing his deepest thoughts in rhyming couplets. And from reading Cosmo in the grocery store checkout lines, I know that Ms. BC, wearing some X-rated lingerie, shows him into the dining room where they share an intimate candlelit supper pour deux. (Whipped cream optional).
Yes, readers, the real dividing line between BC, AD, and LBWKLH&DDs is: the dining room. BCs have one. ADs have a room which was described by the Realtor as a formal dining room, but which has not been the site of an actual meal since Thanksgiving of 1987.
As an AD, I didn’t want the other moms to think I was sacrificing my children’s self-expression and creativity on the altar of crass commercialism by having them send out pre-Hallmarked Garfield valentines with little candies attached. So each year I excavated the dining room table from under the sewing machine and a few dozen of my current sewing and quilting projects. Then I re-covered the table with enough art supplies for my kids to make valentines for every child in a three-state radius. After days of creative self-expression, each child would have turned out one masterpiece such as:
Roses are red, violets are pink.
Mom makes me send cards to the whole class,
But you still stink.
(Cue the late-night run for whatever candy-clad valentines were still left in the stores.)
But I’m ready for this Valentine’s Day. When my husband arrives and asks, “Hey, this wasn’t one of those holidays where I have to DO something, was it?”, I will strike a sultry pose in my Life’s too short to stuff mushrooms apron, and hand him his valentine:
Roses are red, some violets are white.
Let’s do something wild, spontaneous and different RIGHT ON THE DINING ROOM TABLE.
Let’s eat there tonight.
◆◆◆
“…has anyone ever actually died laughing?—CathyR for Between The Lines Book Reviews
“The off-the-wall snark’s all there.“—Terry Tyler, Author of Project Renova series
“Get this book and prepare to be entertained, you can thank me later.” —Georgia Rose, Author of The Grayson Trilogy
“This book needs to come with a warning: ‘Caution: Do Not Eat Or Drink While Reading This Book! You will spew food or liquid everywhere when you laugh out loud.”—Kassandra Lamb, Author of Kate Huntingdon Mysteries
“Snorting good fun…”—Author P E Read
“Ms. Taub, how were you able to bring Joseph Kony in to your very, very funny narrative? I doff my hat to your genius. Eau d’baby puke indeed!”—Andrew Joyce, Author of new release, Ellis: One Man’s Remarkable Life
I actually owned a copy of 101 Uses for a Dead Cat!! Another hilarious snippet. Thanks.
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NO! Do you still have it? I couldn’t get over how funny I thought it was at the time, but until this exact moment I’ve never met another reader.
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I got rid of it in one of my moves. But I laughed and laughed at the time. Gosh, it must have been in the 80s.
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Oh, yeah, we’re both that old!
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I forgot to say I was 5 when I got the book. LOL
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Well…my mother read it to me in the womb.
(Which probably explains a lot…)
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As always,hilarious, Barb. Our valentine’s day was spent in the hospital seeing the specialist etc. after Hubby’s operation. His feet aren’t especially romance- attracting at the moment. Good job I love the rest of him. Still, made pancakes and ate at the dining room table. when we finally got home. Have yet to ever receive a valentines card…ever!!
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The Hub (after years of trial and error) totally gets that all he has to do is grab some grocery store flowers and a card or Very Bad Things will happen. But he still doesn’t know why, and he especially doesn’t get jewellery as a concept: “Why would you want something you can’t eat or use to keep you warm?” At one of our big-zero anniversaries, I said—very specifically, I thought—to get me something little and sparkly. He proudly presented a cocktail dress so tiny it was almost eclipsed by the rhinestone studded buttons. The only thing missing was the lamppost for me to lean against if I should ever actually wear it. Luckily, he’d paid so much at Macy’s for the hooker dress that I was able to exchange it for a very pretty little ruby ring, which completely saddened and mystified him.
I’d send you a valentine if I could…
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Hahaha… which is absolutely one up on the washing machine I got for my birthday one year!! And ref the card…you’re so kind, Barb… it’s the thought that counts… as I told Hubby, after I bought him a very expensive coat last Christmas for me to wear.After all, as I told him, he has to look at me wearing it so I had to get a coat that he’d liked to see me in.
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thank you thank you thank you for the reblog!!!
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I am now convinced that you don’t have a serious bone in your body. Anyone who can take the rise out of Valentine’s Day is okay in my book. (I’m a long since dyed in the wool unromantic!
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Actually, I think Valentine’s Day is ALL about being unromantic. Romantic types make every day special or some such puke-making crapola, but the rest of us really need a little reminder. A mass-produced card with generic sentiments and some grocery store flowers get the job done, and then we can tick that box and get back to our regularly-scheduled non-romance lives. (Well, we do get cheesecake or chocolate mousse, of course. So there is that…)
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Nice that you have your priorities in order!
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Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
An excerpt from Barb Taub’s new book Life Begins When the Kids Leave Home…. an appropriate chapter Valentine’s Day BC (BEFORE Children) vs AD (AFTER Delivery) #excellent
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Hooray! Thanks a million times for the reblog.
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Love your own personal Valentine story. I’ve just read this chapter in the book and am about to embark on the Travel section.
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Thanks Mary! And thanks for reading the book. I really do appreciate it.
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Really fun and enjoyable
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Hell, yeah!!!
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Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
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I have no idea what you said…but I’m pretty darn thrilled that you said it! Thanks so much for the reblog.
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I thought 101 uses was compulsory level two sats reading, or maybe it’s part of the art paper or something, though I have kniptchens over the pencil sharpner. And I relate to the dining-room-table-as-functional-flat-surface dilemma. Who knew it was for eating off!
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Kindred spirit!
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So apt. I won’t think of you any other way…
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Oddly i was in my mother in law’s loft which is neither a dodgy euphemism nor a weird Norfolk pasttime but a real loft and found a box labelled Spanish Pencil Sharpeners. The mind is now roaming around flamenco dancers and inappropriate uses for castenets. I haven’t dared look inside yet . She does come from Norfolk and they don’t call it NfN (normal for Norfolk) without reason
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NfN–I love it!
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Reblogged this on The Life & Times of Zoe the Fabulous Feline and commented:
Don’t walk…run to Barb Taub’s blog to be thoroughly entertained (again) this Valentine’s Day. Most creative use of BC and AD I’ve ever!! Kudos, Barb!
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Thanks so much Zoe. I’m absolutely thrilled for the reblog!
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This is hilarious!!!
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Thank you SO much!
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My pleasure, Barb!
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I love this, especially the public library part! Only recently have I been able to go to the second floor of ours to get books for me, and of course after we’ve gotten a ton of books for them first. 🙂
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Wow—a separate library floor! You know what that means, right? One of these days you’ll get to go to the bathroom ALONE! Probably…
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I love your sense of humor. If you only watched movies with animated rodents you probably saw my favorite, An American Tail starring Fievel. Dining room table? Do people really eat there? It’s been so long since I’ve seen the top of mine, I don’t remember what it looks like. As far as going to the bathroom alone – it has never happened. With my children spaced six years between each, once they were old enough to stay out of my space the grandchildren started arriving. Now with the oldest approaching 19, we have the four-year-old and ten-month-old and they are thinking about child #3. At 70 years, I may never know what it’s like to be alone in the bathroom.
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And then there’s the dog. Torn between her need to have some part of her body directly connected to mine, and her conviction that the bathroom is where I try to drown dogs on a regular basis, she prefers to sit in the doorway with plenty of loud sighs and the occasional whimper. (hence title of new book…)
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🤣🤣🤣
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