Mothers of Brothers

Let’s face it Team Tuna, we all know I’m a sucker for free.  So when my new cyber stalking follower MOV at Mothersofbrothers offered to send me a copy of her book of humorous essays I beat back my seething out of control jealousy, er I mean I replied of course my little darling, I would adore to read it.  But she is a Virgo, the kind that embraces their self obsessions and unhealthy relationship with talking to inanimate objects in her house. Below are a few excerpts from our emails to emphasize our special quirky relationship.

Hi Tuna! (if this is indeed your real name, and your real email address, seems like a gmail account you just invented off the top of your head for the purpose of distracting would-be crazed fans/ stalkers)

Hey, if you didn't live so far away (I live in the DC area), I know you and I would be instant pals and go for starbucks or shopping and be horribly mistreated by snooty salesgirls who do not know why eyecream was invented and then we could gossip about aforementioned salesgirl and how one of us might just have to write a blog post about her and her attitude.  But alas, we do not live down the street.  But, lucky for me me, I discovered you and your delightful blog and I would LOVE to send you a freebie copy of my book because (dare I say) I think you are one of the few people who "gets" my wackadoodle sense of humor.  

So, Phase 2 of the email stalk-a-rama is please give me an address (can be a PO Box if, you know, the restraining order against me has not kicked in yet) or work address or neighbor address or whatever where I can mail the book to you.  

Oh, and your real name might be nice (said the woman who has kept her entire family's identity an ultra bloggy secret, as if I am the Kennedy Clan or Suri Cruise or some such).

Thanks, and Merry Christmas! 
-- 

Best,

MOV

Dear MOV,

One of my sister’s name is MOV, not my favorite sister but one of them. She's okay I guess. She was a bit of a tattle tale though. Great, nowI’m having a flashback to my youth. Oh I have multiple emails to keep my secret blogging life separate from my personal email I get from my in laws and my work search email and oh right, the new business email.  I just had a bottle of wine dropped off by FED EX for a review and it was actually addressed to me, aka Mrs. Tuna. 

Be happy to read, always like humor stuff. I wish I could figure out how to get my dumb blog published as a book. It goes to prove you are way smarter than me.

Update

Hey! Just wanted to let you know your book came in. Since I read like a 7 year old it will let you know when I get done. Have a great new year.

Dawn

Dear Tuna,

Yay!  (and what does that mean:  "read like a 7 year old"?  does that mean you have your head upside down draped off the couch while eating your leftover Christmas chocolate and watching re-runs of SpongeBob?  because if that's the case, we might need to have a chat.  And remember, the book arrived in a VIRGO SPECIAL ENVELOPE, i.e. a ziplock bag, to reduce those chocolatey fingerprints so you can sell the book to the Smithsonian later.  Something to think about.)

Hope you like it!!!!!  If you don't, let's never speak of it again.  If you do, feel free to say a one-sentence thing on your blog about it (Potential idea:  "MOV Is A Modern-Day Shakespeare" or "Most Talented New Author of the Universe: MOV", these are just examples).

best, 

MOV

Dear MOV,

7 year olds read 5 pages, wander off, and leave the book where the dog will chew it up. Apparently not your 7 year old since he's working on your taxes or writing his thesis on magic tricks for dummies like us. Okay. I'm on like page 75 and I am seething with jealousy. I hate you. You are way funnier than me and now I feel completely at a loss about what to write for my new year's resolutions so in comparison my writing skills suck. I could talk about not eating my young maybe, clearing my Tivo list. Or.......maybe I could get you to be a guest blogger. Can you get cracking, just be sure and include a receipe? It’s due tomorrow, maybe the Tall one can crank it out. 

Dawn

Mrs. Tuna

ohmygod, I totally want to be your guest blogger!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  this is such an honor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  are you serious???????????????

ok, so for the guest post, do you want me to write as you or as me?  and what is the topic?  I can write it or Tall can write it, oops, he's working on his Master's thesis right now so he does not have time.  

Let me know!  I seriously would LOVE to guest blog!!!!!

Wheeee!!!! MOV

So without further ado, I give you MOV, and if you want genuine belly laughs buy her “Mom’s Had a Rough Day”.

Strike Fear/ 365

There are eight lackluster words that, when strung together, strike fear deep in the core of any normal American male.  Those words are:  “I’m going to Target, where’s your credit card?”  I uttered those precise words yesterday morning while The Husband continued to pretend to be asleep.  “You know I have to go right when they open,” I prodded, while nervously looking at my watch (7:30 AM), “I can’t deal with crowds.” He knew he wouldn’t win this one, so he merely grunted, “My wallet is on the dresser.  Try to keep it under $100 this time …”

After more than a decade of marriage, I often suspected that he was mentally insane—this comment just confirmed it.  Is it even possible to walk out of Target without spending $100?  I was under the impression that they strategically placed their sales associates near the exit door to say, “You only spent $40 today?  Did you not get all the way back to Aisle 23 to look at the After-Christmas Sale items?”  As it turns out, I did happen to wander past Aisle 23, and was brutally assaulted by myriad bargains:  laser-cut felt ornaments in red, purple, and turquoise; wooden gingerbread men decorations; glass snowmen with black fuzzy hats; faux candy cane ornaments; and thick lustrous bronze-colored ribbon—all for 70% off.  These unnecessary items (and others!) just jumped into my ruby red cart when I wasn’t even looking.   

I stood in line at the check-out area, glanced at my scribbled list, and suddenly realized I forgot the one staple I actually drove over here for:  flour.  I momentarily toyed with the idea of not making cookies this weekend after all, but I had been craving them for days while my unhelpful cupboard had been mocking me (“Still no flour, dummy!”).  I had no choice:  I got out of line and high-tailed it over to the baking supplies. 

365 Cookies

·        1 stick butter (MUST be room temperature!  Get this out of the fridge right when you get up and place it on the counter)

·         ¼ cup granulated sugar

·         ½ cup brown sugar (should be soft and fresh, not all hardened like Santa’s arteries)

·         1 egg

·         2 teaspoons vanilla paste (I said paste)

·         1 cup flour

·         ¼ cup uncooked oatmeal (not instant)

·         ¾ cup Rice Krispies cereal

·         8-ounce bag of chocolate chips (you might not use whole bag)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees (I highly recommend you invest in an oven thermometer because most people’s ovens are slightly off by 10 or more degrees which is make it or break it in the world of baking).  Mix the first 5 ingredients in order (one-by-one) with a hand mixer until nice and fluffy.  When you get to the flour, do the first half with the hand mixer and then switch to a good old-fashioned wooden spoon.  All the rest of the ingredients need to be mixed with the spoon (no Kitchen Aid!).  Trust me on this.  Scoop out small glops of dough onto a good quality cookie sheet purchased from a high-end kitchen store.  Bake for 8 or 9 minutes.  Press on cookie with finger and the cookie should not be hard.  I tend to undercook my cookies because I like them a little bit softer in the middle the next day as opposed to cement-like.  Recipe makes about 24 diminutive cookies (not the super-sized cookies like they sell at the grocery store).      


The best part about these cookies is that people cannot figure out what makes them crunchy (the Rice Krispies).  They always assume there are nuts in the recipe.  This is obviously a great recipe for people with nut allergies that like a delicious cookie with some texture to it.  The name comes from my sons saying they could eat these cookies every day. 

My sons take turns scooping the dough out while I marvel at all my new ornaments that I have laid out on the dining room table, like a Christmas bazaar, and I wonder to myself when exactly I can get back to Target for my next fix. 

MOV