hilarious anecdote crudité

Hello loyal so-and-sos! Today I’m going to share some funny stories with you that are just a little bit too short to warrant their own blog posts. Think of it as “hilarious anecdote crudité.” One story probably won’t fill you up, but if you cram a whole bunch of them in your face, you’ll be all good.

So! Carrot sticks and broccoli florets await! And I didn’t even stretch the ranch.hard-returngif

story #1: the earwig

I almost ate an earwig this summer.

I’m assuming you’ve seen these plastic Starbucks tumblers before. They’re dishwasher safe, they come with sturdy green straws that you can wash out and reuse, and let’s face it, they’re absolutely adorable.

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The plastic Starbucks tumbler of which I speak.

My plastic Starbucks tumbler lives in my kitchen cabinet, which is where it was on that fateful day in late June. The weather was boiling hot, my mouth was a dry as a bone, and I had THE THIRST. Nothing but a 20-oz. glass of iced tea would do.

So I brought out the tumbler, filled it up, inserted the reusable straw, and screwed on the lid. Then I took my first sip.

Which is when IT happened.

I’ve given this a lot of thought, and the best explanation I can come up with is that at some point, an earwig out on its morning constitutional thought to itself: “I’m tired. Why not crawl into this sturdy green straw and die?” Because crawl into the straw and die it had. And when I took that first sip of what should have been a cool, refreshing glass of iced tea, a decaying earwig corpse slid right up the straw and into my mouth.

At which point I thought it was a piece of crushed ice and BIT DOWN ON IT.

When the alleged piece of crushed ice was not hard and crunchy like ice, but soft and “whatever the fuck this is, it shouldn’t be in my drink” like an earwig, I spit it out into the sink, saw what it was, and gagged forever.

Eventually I managed to collect myself, rinse my mouth out with cold water, and join the land of the people who had not just almost eaten earwigs. I then proceeded to march around the house for two hours impressing upon my family just how traumatized I was. BECAUSE EARWIG. IN MY MOUTH.

EARWIG.

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A text exchange I had with my friend Lori shortly after “The Incident.”

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story #2: the shopping cart

The holidays had arrived.

My sister Cheeks and I were visiting the old homestead in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. Winters there are never really a picnic, but on this particular day, it was chillier than a dead earwig in a glass of iced tea.

If I recall correctly, there was no actual snow, but there was cold and rain and wind. All told, it was definitely a day for staying inside, and most of the people in our town were doing exactly that. Of course, whenever other people are being smart, Cheeks and I end up doing things that are incredibly dumb. So, in keeping with that tradition, we decided to go to Target.

I honestly don’t remember what we actually went there to get. All that really sticks in my memory was that a) it was FRIGID and b) the entire town was DESERTED. We literally didn’t see a single soul on our way to the store. The residents of our hometown had chosen to remain indoors rather than brave the elements to get . . . Pringles, or whatever the fuck it was we thought we needed.

Cheeks and I finished our shopping and emerged into the Cold ‘N Shitty parking lot. Two spots down from my car was a man sitting in *his* car. He hadn’t been there before, but we paid him little mind. It was freezing, after all, and we were hyper-focused on getting our cheap bras and nacho cheese Combos into the trunk of my car tout suite.

After we unloaded what I’ll generously call our “groceries,” the skies opened up, and Cheeks and I felt ourselves being pelted by an icy drizzle. We looked around for a place to put our empty cart, but the corral was maybe eight to ten feet away literally a million miles across the parking lot. In a windy, icy Chicago rain? Forget it. We weren’t going to walk that shit over there.

So Cheeks did what we have all longed to do at one point or another—she simply gave our cart one good hard shove in the general direction of the corral and yelled: “FLY FREE!” At which point, the cart went maybe two feet, turned sharply, and fell over in the middle of the street.

And we decided to leave it there.

Laughing like idiots, we scrambled to my car in order to flee the scene of The Stupidest “Crime” Ever Committed. And that’s when we noticed that the guy in the parking spot two cars down from us had witnessed the whole thing and was laughing so hard he was crying. Like “wiping tears from his eyes” crying. Like “I can hardly breathe” crying. Like “these two people are the biggest morons I’ve ever seen” crying.

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Enjoy this holiday picture of me and Cheeks. My husband took it. He thought he was being funny.

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story #3: one million poop jars

My son wants to get in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Him: “Will you help me set a world record?”
Me: “Uh, sure. For what?”
Him: “Most consecutive hours watching television.”
Me: “Um…”
Him: “You could make me a bed on the couch with lots of pillows and blankets.”
Me: “…”
Him: “And get me like… twenty Capri-Suns.”
Me: “Twenty?”
Him: “Hmm…not twenty. Fifty. No, a hundred.”
Me: “Okay…”
Him: “And a LOT of snacks.”
Me: “How would you go to the bathroom?”
Him: “One million pee jars.”
Me: “ONE MILLION PEE JARS.”
Him: “Yeah.”
Me: “And what if you have to poop?”
Him (with “duh” expression): “One million poop jars.”

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Photo credits:
“Starbucks Tumbler”: http://store.starbucks.com/starbucks-cold-cup-24-fl-oz-011018039.html

34 Replies to “hilarious anecdote crudité”

    1. I LOVE THIS. “Your story made me gag. Good one!”

      BAhahahaha! That’s exactly what I go for with this blog! Trying to make people gag, but in a good way! You’re my favorite today 🙂

  1. Earwig! Yuck, just yuck!

    We’re about to have the same kind of weather in the NW ‘burbs this weekend. Freezing rain! Icy roads! I think I’ll go to Target.

    And to a boy, I guess poop jars make sense?

    1. Thanks for reading, Michelle!

      I didn’t vomit, but I did not feel like my mouth was clean for like 24 straight hours, even after I had brushed and rinsed about a thousand times. SO. GROSS.

  2. I’m glad you prefaced this with a mention of food and then went on to talk about eating an earwig and poop jars. Wait, I’m not glad! Ew!

  3. At least it was a DEAD earwig? Still ew, huh? And I can’t stand silverfish. Gross. They like to surprise me in the kitchen and the fam can usually tell from my screams that there has been a silverfish encounter.

  4. I’m not even sure I know what an earwig is but now I feel like I need to check all of our plastic straws before using them.
    The shopping cart story is hilarious mostly because of the fact that the random guy was just laughing at y’all.
    And, the poop jars – classy – I’m pretty sure that could be his guiness record if you could stand to have a million poop jars collecting!!!

    1. If you haven’t looked up the Noble Earwig on Wikipedia yet, I *highly* don’t recommend it.

      And you’re right! We should go for that record! I bet the current one is only like… 36 poop jars.

  5. Thanks for making me laugh, Sarah! The earwig – well, I’m still shivering over that one, but the grocery cart and poop jars – funny! Thanks doll! Have a great weekend. 🙂

  6. If I’m ever at your house I must remember not to accept any hors d’oeuvres you might offer, if these stories are your idea of crudités. Stink bugs, earwigs…where the hell do you live, anyway? Love all 3 stories! I’m curious if your son thought about what he’d do with the millions of pieces of toilet paper after filling his million poop jars.

  7. Ahaha. One million poop jars! HA! Brilliant idea!! The earwig story is really distracting though but YUP, I guess we all have our “eew” moments? LOL

  8. That earwig would’ve been the end of my life I think….. I salute you for managing to survive that without years of therapy!
    Also, your son is a logical genius, clearly.

  9. Oh, we had a terrible infestation of false chinches last summer. They kept getting to the rim of my coffee mug and I’d pick up the cup to take a drink and be staring one right in the eyeball. We had our ducts cleaned and a bug bomb set off, but they kept coming in.

    The earwig thing would probably set off the worst case of PTSD ever around here.

    And my boys have begged for the same set up as your son, only I don’t think they were thinking of setting any records, though. Have you ever seen Idiocracy? They thought the barcalounger with the toilet was the coolest thing ever.

  10. That earwig story almost made me spit nothing out of my mouth. Gross! I have one of those big tumblers too that came from Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas with a big ol’ frozen Margarita in it. Unfortunately, now it just gets ice water in it because my office is no fun and doesn’t have a frozen Margarita machine (but they have a coffee maker–whatever).

    I’ve toyed with a format like this too, because I have plenty of things that would be dull as hell if I tried to make them 800 words. Interesting to hear it didn’t do very well for you. Hm. I’ll probably still try it anyway one of these days. I’ll let you know how it goes.

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