NO SEW UPHOLSTERY SPORTS CHAIR? DON’T MIND IF I DO!

0

Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in MUFFINTOP DIY, Uncategorized | Posted on 05-02-2014

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Last year I bought a very well loved (aka grungry) kick butt Ethan Allen French Country arm chair with ottoman. You can read the post here. For multiple before pics, please visit the original post.

Here is the after:

photo-105-2

WHAT CAN I SAY? IT WAS MID WINTER IN THE FROZEN TUNDRA AND I LIKE COLOR!

Here is the chair a year later, after I painted and rearranged the room:

SEE HOW DIFFERENT THE PALER BACKDROP MAKES THIS CHAIR SEEM, BTW?

SEE HOW DIFFERENT THE PALER BACKDROP MAKES THIS CHAIR SEEM, BTW?

And we are sidewards again! My point in posting the chair a year later is that every DIY project can look great when you finish, but you have to wonder how some of the “Pinterest” pins or blog post projects hold up? How do you know that shitz doesn’t all fall apart once the shot it taken?!! The chair has held up very well over the past year I think, considering that I flop in it every, single day with my unskinnay bod-aaay, it’s had kids jumping on it, off it, around it, and, because of the way I did it (as in, not at all correctly!), I cannot flip the cushions! OH MY. My small investment is crazy comfy and has served me well as I’ve slurped many a coffee and beer on it while I check Facebook or read a classic piece of literature People mag.

I had originally planned to get it professionally reupholstered and then…dun, dun, dun, our dishwasher kicked the bucket. Poverty (all right, I’m embellishing but you know what I mean!) breeds inspiration, and so I thought I’d take a stab at redoing it myself! Shazam!

Since then, I’ve gotten emboldened to try other upholstery projects. This fall the plan was to big boy up the bedroom my middle and youngest share. Enter the ugly ass $7 chair. Hubs woudn’t touch it. Deemed it “disgusting”. Made THE FACE. At me! ME! Prima. Donna.

IT ACTUALLY WAS PRETTY GROSS!

IT ACTUALLY WAS PRETTY GROSS!

The random, grungy corduroy, the dirty arms, and the flipping tacks that I had to take out one by one–owww! I can understand why someone would doubt my skillz. I only bled a little (hear me roar!), I washed the hell out of the wood with Murphy Oil soap, primed and painted it in a lovely Benjamin Moore red I had left over from my son’s desk project, and then, had the idea to reupholster it in Red Sox material. I found this awesome fleecy Red Sox fabric that I thought would be forgiving and soft–and it is. Bonus, it was only $11 bucks a yard! You can get this material in other Major League baseball teams but not sure why you’d want to!? (I’m waiting for Big Papi to call me with his order. Cue up Blondie, “Call meeeee! Call me any, any, any-timeeeeee! Call ME!!!”) Who needs PR people? I got this! (No.)

Here are some after shots:

OK, WORDPRESS IS TRYING TO RATTLE ME WITH ALL THESE SIDEWARD PICS. WON'T WORK, WP--KEEP TRYING!!!

OK, WORDPRESS IS TRYING TO RATTLE ME WITH ALL THESE SIDEWARD PICS. WON’T WORK, WP–KEEP TRYING!!!

 

WE'RE FRONTWARDS. #DANCESJIG

WE’RE FRONTWARDS. #DANCESJIG

For a total cost of less than $20, I’ll take it. It’s a perfect size for the corner of the room, and could easily transition to a rec room or family room if future plans change. It’s an awesome spot to read a book, or, if I’m being honest, drop a pile of folded laundry til I can put it away! I will say that reupholstering a chair is not difficult–this chair was 800 times easier than the French chair because of it’s size, in part, but mostly because there were no cushions that detach to contend with. I took the old fabric off carefully, used it to make a template and traced it onto the new fabric, and stapled—that is IT. It’s like putting a puzzle back together–after you see how it comes apart, you can see how it will all go back together again. Honestly. That is IT. If you had staples showing, and you don’t know how to sew upholstery welting, aka, piping, like moi, you can hot glue gimp like I did on the French chair–and you can see how I did that in that post–sew easy! (Sorry.)

Dare to think outside the chair–you can’t buy something like this at the store, and any chair that you can buy, is at least a few hundred bucks. 

After I did this chair, naturally oldest bro was all, “What about a chair for MY room!” Fair enough. He was over the blue gingham glider in his room. I took to my beloved Craigslist to find an appropriately sized chair and boom—$19 (I know, random price and now that I think of it I handed the woman $20 and she did not give me mah dollah–but I was in no mood for a tete a tete in her random garage in the sticks–know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em, people!).  $19 was a steal for this vintage, caned chair. It is SO COMFY. It was a pecan colored wood and slightly beat, with a 70′s gold velourish type material. AND THERE ARE NO BEFORE PICS THANKS TO TOILETTE IPHONEGATE OF 2013. I’M NOT BITTER, SON!

This chair took some brute strengh to take apart, and it was tufted so BUTTONS, ALL THE BUTTONS, dude. I was not gonna rebutton it. No way. I spray painted this chair in a high gloss red paint and primer combo—likey! I thought that woud be the best way to cover the caning and it didn’t disappoint. Love the gloss. Here are some after shots. To be different, I did this chair in similar fleecy material, but chose Patriot’s instead of The Sox to mix it up. (Brady? Call me. How perfect would it be to sit in this chair and read Jinxelle bed time stories in your Uggs. Check it! Ya think Manning has a cool chair like this, Brady? Um, no.)

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY. SIDEWARDS!!!

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY. SIDEWARDS!!!

 

SIDE VIEW

SIDE VIEW–THAT CANING. MUAH!

Here’s a brighter pic! ( I LOVE FOTOGRAFY–ha ha ha.)

I'm bright! I'm upright! Jazz hands! Woo!

I’m bright! I’m upright! Jazz hands! Woo!

Check out the curves and the legs–oh my! Flutter!

That’s it, peeps—I’m living the DIY dream!

From shizz to shine, all on a dime.

I gots to save mah money for fun shoes and wine! 

And remember, dare to think outside the chair! What do you have to lose? (Besides some blood and burnt skin. Wo-man up!)

 

 

 

 

 

PSST….IS THAT A VINTAGE GOSSIP BENCH OR A MOMMY’S TIME OUT CHAIR?

15

Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!!, Retail Therapy, Some things just don't fit into a neat little box. The uncategory! | Posted on 31-01-2013

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Have you ever heard the words?

Gossip bench.

If that alone doesn’t intrigue you just fuhget it and get off mah lawn now!

A gossip bench, or telephone table, are gems from a time gone by. Basically, it’s a chair attached to a little table. Way, WAY (and by way, way, I’m really not sure how long, lemme be honest) before cordless phones were even a thought in some MIT trained brain and people couldn’t yuk it up in every corner of the house, people had beauties just like this:

ONCE AGAIN, I NEED SOME PHOTOGRAPHY 411 BUT YOU GET THE IDEA. ISN'T SHE GRAND?

 

Look at this lovely detailing:

THAT'S THE WAY, UH HUH, UH HUH, I LIKE IT, KC AND THE SUNSHINE BAND!

 

So the rotary phone went on top of the table part, and the phone book went underneath. And the gossipy hausfrau’s arse went on the seat. Amen. I really wish that table could talk. How many incredible conversations might have gone on? I believe this table might be from the 40′s, so my imagination runs wild thinking about it. A GI calling his girlfriend? A mom calling her newlywed daughter to share recipes? Two teenagers talking about what—I don’t even know what?! Two gossipy hausfraus talking about seeing so and so’s daughter at the five and dime with a too short skirt? WHO KNOWS!

All I know is I love this random piece of furniture! And hubs loved me enough to schlep it for me from some guy I found…wait for it….on Craigslist. A man who…let me just say, hubs said after picking up this piece of history, “I don’t want to speak of it again. Sanford and Sons. Without fun Sanford. Or his son.”

Okay then.

For better or worse, people. We took vows!!!

The wood on this table was actually in pretty good shape–you can’t see too well from my iphone trick photography, but it wasn’t the best stain job. All I did was unscrew the seat and slap two coats of miracle Annie Sloan chalk paint in the same Chateau Grey shade I used on my sideboard redo. It took no time at all.

SCALPEL, PLEASE. HA HA. JUST A PHILLIPS HEAD. I FIGURED IT OUT---THIS ISN'T BRAIN SURGERY, KIDS!

 

I bought some fun, sturdy (yet elegant!), upholstery grade fabric at Hobby (I love you!) Lobby, cut a square, and stapled it. I have skillz. (Not really. Noooo.)

WE MEET AGAIN, RUDOLPH SCISSORS!

THIS PART IS ROUGH. PAY ATTENTION. YOU FLIP THE CUSHION OVER, PUT IT OVER THE CHAIR FRAME, AND SCREW IT BACK IN. NEXT WEEK I''M TOTALLY APPLYING TO GRAD SKOOL AT HARVARD.

Before I put the cushion on permanently, I did wax and buff it so it would have a softer, less…well, chalky finish. I did distress it lightly as well.

So here are some pics of the almost finished product:

THIS WAS PRE-WAX AND DISTRESS.

 

I PUFFY HEART THIS FABRIC.

 

And…..now my gossip bench is ready for some 21st century action. I have actually renamed it the Chatty Kathy bench or Mommy’s Time Out chair. I love my kids, you love your kids, all of us who have kids LOVE OUR KIDS. But sometimes, they are ginormous PITAS! (Pains in the asses. You’re welcome.) At which point, we need an escape. Well, the French New Hampshire riviera is not always possible. I give you, Mommy’s Time Out Chair:

PEEP, A KINDLE, SOME VINO. YES, I DO BELIEVE THIS IS THE RECIPE FOR SOME MODERN DAY GOSSIP. I FEEL PROUD TO UPHOLD ITS HERITAGE IN A MODERN WAY!

YES, PLEASE.

 

ONE MORE SHOT. BECAUSE YOU KNOW I DIDN'T GET TO REALLY SIT FOR THAT LONG!

 

The funny thing is, with all of my recent Craiglisting, and seeing what these go for redone (and even not redone) on Etsy, Ebay, and Craigslist, I planned to sell the Chatty Kathy. But hubs —who wouldda thunk?? Has taken a shine to it and asked me not to sell it. What!? I know.

However, if you are reading this and you have a pocket full of cash burning a hole in your pocket, I will totally cut it free behind hub’s back  (For better or worse, people!) for the right price. Because the French Riviera Disneyworld is calling my name!

 

 

 

OVERACHIEVERS AND CELEB MOMS? LET ME BASK IN THE GLOW OF MEDIOCRITY ALREADY!

14

Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!! | Posted on 26-05-2011

Tags: , , , ,

I try not to pay too much attention to what other moms do. (What shoes they wear, sometimes. You know I love me some shoes!) What they do, not so much.

Hell, if you can find time to make your own organic baby food, knit your kids hats and gloves, not let them watch any tv, bake yummy treats from scratch, and scrapbook all your family memories and milestones and do it all WHILE looking size 4 perfect in your Better Homes and Gardens house where everything has its place and not lose your head….who am I to sneer?

I AM DOING THE BEST I CAN OKAY!

I’m perfectly happy to cruise around in my size *&%! duds, feed my kids break and bake cookies while they wear their Targ hats watching Backyardigans, while they color on the wall because we’re outta paper, in our family room that looks like we just had a rave in it.

Ah, the frat house good life. But enough about that. We really need to elevate the discussion. I am SO above comparing myself to mother of the year and the gang, and if these overachievers make  me the rest of us look like we are basking in mediocrity then BRING.IT.

I can tolerate the overachievers, though, I really can. Actually, I respect them a great deal. You know why? Because they’re really doing it. They work hard to achieve success in the home. They’re the ones who are size 4 because they get up at 5 a.m. to work out before the kids get up (while I hit snooze 8,700 times because I stayed up late reading War and Peace People mag). They have an action plan (I have….a breakfast plan?) and they execute it like a six figure exec or a five star general. Besides, I’m not stupid. They’re the ones you need to make sure the school fundraisers are successful and the town soccer runs seamlessly. They will happily remind you when the preschool tuition signups are so you don’t miss the cut off.  Oops, did that anyway. Damn I do suck!. They’ll tell you when school supplies are on sale (I’ll forget. Or I’ll go to the wrong store. On the wrong day. For the wrong school supplies).

Let’s face it, if people like me were left in charge, the bake sale would have twenty dozen box brownies and every soccer team in town would show up at the same field, at the same time, for a game. Oh, I’m happy to help out—don’t call me a slacker, but you just assign me my task and I’ll show up with my box mix baked goods (watch out for those egg shells) just as soon as I spin through Mickey D’s to feed my family. Come on, something has to give.  So what if my 2 year old answers, “Chicken. French fries. Milk. And a toy!” when I ask what he wants for lunch?  Shame on you—it’s not nice to judge!

But… what about those celeb moms? Like the overachievers, they look great. You see them in those mags (well, I see them when I am vacationing at the dentist), looking like they just stepped out of a photo shoot—hair and makeup perfect, perfect bodies in perfect clothes…looking, um, wait for it… perfect? They’re talking about how they only feed little Gunther and Esmerelda whole grain food with no preservatives while they cavort about in clothing made from environmentally friendly 100% organic—not made in China—cotton that costs more than my house. Oh, I’m not bitter. Don’t misunderstand me. Yay for them that they look this good and can spend more on locally grown organic produce than I do on groceries for the five of us. But just don’t compare them to us mere mortals who sleep on *clutches chest* less than 300 thread count sheets and cook our own processed foodstuffs! That’s right. Things are tough ALL over.

DONNA, JUST GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS BACK TO THE PEACH PIT AND NO ONE GETS HURT!

Jaysus, the 2 year old is bigger than she is!

The thing is…. I read.

I know ALL about those people! They have personal trainers, personal chefs, personal assistants, nannies, mannies, house cleaners and gobs of money for clothes, hair and makeup. Maybe I could look good too if I had a “team”! Face it, they aren’t buying their clothes off the rack at Targ and eating Lean Cuisines standing up, trying in vain to lose the back fat, while they ladle out mac and cheese (YES from a box, why even ask? Orange cheese…holla!) to the brood.  And they’re not counting running up and down stairs with laundry and scrubbing floors as cardio, and slapping on some foundation as their entire makeup regimen because the mascara and blush have gone missing, probably tossed into the black hole of a toy box. They aren’t blow drying their hair while a two year old is trying to swim laps in the toilet. They aren’t packing their kids up and doing a full days work before they even get to the day care, like my friends who work outside the home. They aren’t paying the bills on line (hoping they didn’t spend the mortgage money at Targ—eek) while trying to cook something resembling dinner.

 What? I said I’m not bitter. Why do you think I’m bitter?  I’m not saying they aren’t good people or good moms, that they don’t cry real tears when their kids paint them a picture for Mother’s Day or they wouldn’t be fun bunch to roll with—after all, those Hollywood types are entertaining as hell.  Hel-lo, that’s why they are rich and famous, and why it’s just not a fair fight!

So listen fun smut mags, do the rest of us a favor….just STOP putting them on your covers with titles like, ‘Lost the baby weight in only four weeks’ and quit doing spreads of them with captions like, ‘Plays with the kids at the local park, just like us!’ and ‘Stops for a latte, just like us’. And don’t EVEN tell me they wrote a book on motherhood that I can relate to. You show them cleaning up puke at 2 a.m. and paying their Visa bill online a few hours later because they remembered, whilst cleaning puke at 2 a.m. , OH! They forgot to pay it in the light of day and oh shitsky, it’s due, like right now….yeah, then call me! I want some glossy photo spreads that say, “They clean puke, just like us!” and “They do laundry while children hang on them like monkeys on a tree, just like us!” and “They try to hide their muffin top in a $10 frock from Target, just like us!’

When you’re ready to roll in mediocrity, call me. Until then, the least you could do is feature the real overachievers and save the rest for the red carpet!

IT'S OCTOBER. I HAVE THE HEAT ON. TELL ME AGAIN WHY I LIVE HERE?

2

Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Some things just don't fit into a neat little box. The uncategory! | Posted on 14-12-2009

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Attention loyal muffintopmommy readers…you may notice it’s December, not October as the title of this post suggests. No, no, I haven’t been napping for the past few months (oh– but doesn’t that sound awesome!?). Here’s the thing: this is a post I originally wrote in October. If you’ve been following my blog since I first started it three months ago, you may remember it. With the holidays approaching, I just don’t have enough time to write new posts a few times a week like I’ve been doing. Even though the subject material in my blog is lighthearted, my posts actually take a considerable amount of time to write—time I just don’t have right now, unfortunately (but if someone wants to step up and volunteer to watch my kids, buy my presents, and clean my floors, I’ll write whatever you want! Yeah….that’s what I thought!) Anyway, I’d rather not put anything out there that is hastily written or not my best work. And, I decided, if tv shows can run repeats, well so can I! (If you don’t like it, well then I’ll have to give you your money back for your subscription…..oh wait, that’s right, you get to read for FREE!) :) At any rate, since this is my blog, I reserve the right to run a few repeats around the holidays, and I hope you stick with me until the new year. So, I’m picking some of my faves and hope you agree! The following post made me laugh today since I skidded in snow yesterday! Yes, I sure doooo love New England (and apparently, it loves me right back.) Enjoy!

 

It was a frosty 57 in my house this morning; it snowed yesterday in the northern part of my state.

It’s the middle of October.

Not the middle of November. Not the middle of December. OC-TO-BER.

I put the heat on. And it wasn’t the first time.

Tell me again why I live here?

I know a lot of steely people who refuse to put the heat on until a certain date, like November 1st. But I never last that long. For someone who grew up in New England, I hate the cold. I love so much about New England—the gorgeous coastline, the fall foliage, the rich history, the smell of fresh cut grass at Fenway….but once the leaves start to fall and a chill permeates the air, I get cranky.

You can say it. Go ahead. I’m a total wimp. The minute the thermostat says it’s below 65 in here, Pavlov hits the switch. (It’s for the children, you see!)

The woman on tv just said it’s 29 degrees out, and the highs today will be 44-48 degrees. Judging by her hair and makeup, I’m pretty sure she was a meteorologist and not a stand up comic—but one can hope, no?

It’s all a matter of perspective. If it were mid December, I’d accept it and put on a sweater and heavy fleece and be glad it wasn’t snowing. If it were mid January, I’d be doing the happy dance and probably be asking my husband, “Do you think it’s warm enough for capris?”

But October? Oh yeah, it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to!

A guy from the west coast sat next to me on the train the other day.

“I’m from Malibuuuuuuuuuuu,” he preened. Well la-dee-da. Tell Charlie Sheen I say hi!

“And I? Am from the frozen tundra,” I retorted, “And I love it!” It was only a slight fib. I do love it. The six months of the year that it’s not almost winter, winter and almost spring. And besides, people with muffin tops are not allowed in southern Cal!

Did he assume from my People mag, I’d be impressed he hailed from the land o the beautiful ones? I merely grabbed Peep and not The Wall Street Journal because it was much smaller and easier to roll up into my over packed bag!

(It is too true! Get your facts straight—Peep is very portable! I could care less about Jon Gosselin and Lindsay Lohan’s dad’s bromance! I SO want to read about the Dow. I do!)

Besides, why would I want to live out there and mingle with the stars (Good for you that you had lipo! I don’t want lipo! I don’t need lipo! Okay, maybe I need lipo.)  And lie at the beach in October? (I can’t lie at the beach here in July. With three boys four and under, I’m a lifeguard not a sunbather—and besides, I haven’t had lipo!) Wine and dine al fresco, you say? (Al what? If it doesn’t have a plastic pager or kids coloring pages, I ain’t going anyway! And the last time I dined al fresco with my husband ALONE, I blew my big shot out with the grown ups… by dropping my beer glass on the sidewalk. Save it—it was my first one. I am THAT clutzy. And you wonder why I failed at organized sports? I can’t navigate a glass to my lips—you think I’m going to get a ball in a hoop?)

So when train guy bragged about planning to go body surfing when he got back to the OC, instead of shouting, “Rat bastard! Them are fightin’ words!”, I did what any self respecting New Englander would do.

I bit my lip. I held my tongue. And I lied.

“That sounds nice. But I have to tell you, I can’t wait for it to snow. We’ll make snowmen with the kids, go sledding, and maybe put a small ice rink in our back yard to skate whenever we want! And, we’ll have cocoa with marshmallows!” Yes, it will be a scene to rival Currier and Ives…. when I’m not wiping runny noses, peeling 18 layers off some gremlin who says, ‘I have to pee!’ the minute we get outside, and spending a million dollars on heating fuel because the blood that courses through my veins is about as thin as that of a South Floridian of 90!

I think he bought it. Do you think he bought it?

My vacation….to the dentist

18

Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Mom-ness, Some things just don't fit into a neat little box. The uncategory!, Yo! It's a girl thing! | Posted on 28-09-2009

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Holy (insert your favorite swear word here—this blog is for you!)!!!!

I just realized I’ve been blogging for almost a year! Though I am prone to overexclamate (!!!!!), it’s my bloggity blog bloggerversary (!!!!!!!) and I’ll overexclamate if I wanna! And I wanna!!!!!

Reflecting back on my year o’ blogging, I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1. So far this gig isn’t making me rich. (Crikey. I was totally eyeing that waterfront property down the Cape, too. I was maybe gonna get ca-razy and buy a kegerator and some matching chaises. You were SO gonna be invited. And when the police came looking to break up a bunch of 20 year old guys, I was gonna be all, “Surprise! Don’t you be profiling me now! Middle aged mamas in da house! Woot!”) This joke is not going to make me popular at Thanksgiving.

2. It ain’t making me famous. (Ed Burns and Ellen still won’t return my calls. What the frack is that about?)

The good news though?

 During this past year of rocking the muffin top, I’ve come to know so many wonderful new friends, both in person and online…other bloggers, other moms, and just random people (yes, even a few dudes!) from right in my town to halfway around the world. Had I not started this whole thing, I would not have had the pleasure of meeting so many of these peeps. It’s been such a fun ride and I so appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read, comment, subscribe and/or  ”like” the muffintopmommy page on Facebook. I’ve received so many well wishes, work out tips, crock pot recipes (Um…yummy?), and come to realize, I am not the only person who spends half the household budget at Tarjay and wants to punch the Kohl’s cashier/traffic cutter/ice cream man in the face! (Good to know! Hell would be lonely without friends.)I learned there are far too many of us out there who can’t tinkle alone and a good deal of you who will fight to the death for your soda. City of Boston, be damned! And Jillian Michaels? Her callous words about body image struck a nerve with so many of my readers of all shapes and sizes.

Would I like to be richfamoushaveabookdealandanAliceBradytocomeatwitchinghourandmakemyfamilyporkchops? Yes, yes I would. LOVE! (But the plastic grass backyard, not so much. How much of a lazy ass were Mike and the boys that they couldn’t take care of and mow some freaking real grass. Did Carol and Alice have to do everything?!)

Would I love to have earned more than roughly 47 cents the past year from blogging? Yes. There’s more money in my seat cushion. Great news though! I don’t owe ANY income tax on it. MINE, MINE, ALL MINE Feds!!! Three more cents, and I’m halfway to Twix-ville. Oh yeah.

Anyway, in celebration of my dentist vacation appointment  tomorrow, and since it was my very first blog post, enjoy!

Being a mom to three boys four and under doesn’t leave much time for r and r. Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mom, but I’m no martyr—everyone needs a break now and then. Since this gig is 24/7, I have to take what I can get, when I can get it.

I used to dream of all inclusive vacations to the Caribbean….now I linger by the pineapples in produce and hum, “One love, walla walla wall-aaaaa.”  (I believe in the business world, this is called a “paradigm shift”.) Either way, I relish my solo trips to places like the grocery store and the dentist for the glorious taste of freedom that they are.

Everyone seems to grumble about going to the dentist. The dentist gets a bad rap, but I’m here to tell you, that’s totally undeserved. For one thing, unlike the doctor, the dentist does not make you strip down and wear a decidedly unfashionable, cold paper johnny….(hi, you’d think in New England they could at least make them out of fleece and not flipping coffee filter material…how about not adding insult to injury, doc?) At the dentist, you get to keep the clothes on your back and the shoes on your feet. YOU decide how fashionable or unfashionable you want to be!

Another bonus, the dentist so does not care what you weigh!! You don’t need to cower in your paper gown, waiting for the nurse to come in, bark out your weight, and record it for all eternity in a chart you can’t even see! At the doctor, they take your blood, your urine—they take, take, take—and then tell you nothing (except maybe lay off the Oreos, Chubs!) At the dentist, everything they do is an open book….they take your x-rays, slap ’em up on the screen, and tell you what’s up right then and there.  Bam! You get to know all your teeth biz….no lines, no waiting, no calling back to chase results. And, you leave with a gift, every.single.time. I love prizes! Who doesn’t want a shiny new toothbrush?

But the best part?  The dentist’s waiting room is a virtual smut magazine bonanza—People, US, OK!…oh yeah, they’ve got it going on. And since they’re bound to run late, you can catch up with all the latest Brangelina biz in peace! Hmm…we might be on to something here….flossing, good bye. I’m taking my chances for an extra dental visit!!!

I mean, everyone knows the dentist is the one who has the all the good trashy mags….you go to the ob and fuhgettaboutit….it’s all Healthy Pregnancy this and Being a Good Mom that……ahh….no thannnnk youuuuuuuu! Too late and……well, the jury’s still out. Either way, not how I want to spend my few moments of glorious freedom. (While I love love love my OB and all her partners, their choice in reading material, as well as gowns, is dubious.)

So who wants to meet me in the deli line or the dentist’s waiting room, say Friday, 7-ish?