This isn't so much a blog, but a big announcement. For anyone just tuning into LeslieDishes, I have been writing scripts for a local (Grand Rapids, MI) comedy sketch show since Sept. '08. It was a fun, little hobby and whatnot. I enjoyed it, but didn't really expect that it would go anywhere.
I just found out that as of Sept. 25th, my show will be aired on the CW (channel 43 in grand rapids) on Friday nights at 10:30. Holy crap. Not only do I have to lose about 15 lbs, but now I have to step it up a notch and start writing REALLY funny stuff. Not just the weird stuff that was only funny to me, like old ladies falling down. I only hope they don't shoot it in High-Def. Umm...hello crow's feet. Anyway, catch it on the CW if you can. (If you're not in-the-know, the CW boasts shows such as One Tree Hill, 90210 and Gossip Girl). The show is called "You've Got To Be Kidding Me America".
Check it out on the web at www.yougot2be.com
and/or find me on facebook leslie davidson bosscher.
~Dahhhhling, Tina Fey better step off. There's a new sheriff in town.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Why I'm always late
A 10 minute glimpse into my life (and probably every other housewife's life)
It's 7:50 A.M. I must leave the house in 10 minutes. Sweet! All I have to do is grab my keys, find my sunglasses, get the boys in the car and I'm out-da-doe.
Oh, but wait. Jason was the last one to drive my car, so now I have to hunt aimlessly around the house trying to find which obscure place my husband has decided to set me keys (in the past, he's been known to set them down on top of the car, on top of the refrigerator, in the pocket of his coat which left for work an hour ago, in HIS car--the list goes on and on) so, hunting for my keys is no easy feat. Cool, they were just in his jeans pocket, which were conveniently left on the floor for me. As I'm bending down to pick up his jeans, I notice a pee smell. I pick up Gabe's jammies which were discarded at my feet moments earlier. Great. Now I have to go check to see if he wet the bed. Of course he did, why else would his jammies smell like pee? Now I have to strip the bed, throw the sheets in the washer, quickly undress Gabe to wipe him down with a washcloth and re-dress him. Ok, time to go--2 minutes left. Just let me wash my hands and I'm off. Realize that there's no paper towel on the roll. Replace it. As I'm putting the roll onto it's holder, I knock over a spoon which held scant amounts of coffee grinds (or is it grounds?). As you well know, a scant amount of coffee grounds spilled onto your kitchen floor, actually looks like a mountain of coffee grounds. Isn't it funny how it spreads like wildfire? Pull out more paper towel and wipe it up. Well, for Heaven's sake, you can't just leave it there. That takes longer than you anticipate because...well, coffee grounds are a bitch to clean up. You go to toss it into the garbage. The garbage is spilling over. You quickly yank up the garbage to empty it. More coffee grounds spill onto the floor. F--K it, clean it up later. Grab keys. Walk out the door. Take the garbage to the bin outside and realize that it's garbage day. Throw everything into the bin and haul it down to the curb. Notice that the mail truck is 3 houses away from your own and you have a birthday card sitting on the kitchen table that NEEDS to go out today or else you'll hear allll about how you forgot so & so's birthday. Run like a mad man back into the house and grab the envelope, run down and personally hand it to the mail lady. Run back up to the car. Find Ben shoeless while Gabe wears my gold flip flops. Decide that shoes are optional and dismiss the whole shoe situation. Realize that Luna (dog) is outside. Try to get her into the house with little success. Trick her by asking if she 'wants to go bye-bye in the car'. When she reluctantly tries to get into the car, grab her collar and drag her back into the house. Get in the car. Press the garage door closer. Ben's bike is in it's way. Get out. Move the bike. Return to the car, reverse down driveway. Run over the garbage bin. Get out, pick up all the garbage that toppled over. Throw it back in the bid. Close the bin. Get in the car and......I'm off!!!! Only 39 minutes behind schedule. Not too shabby.
Whew!!!
It's 7:50 A.M. I must leave the house in 10 minutes. Sweet! All I have to do is grab my keys, find my sunglasses, get the boys in the car and I'm out-da-doe.
Oh, but wait. Jason was the last one to drive my car, so now I have to hunt aimlessly around the house trying to find which obscure place my husband has decided to set me keys (in the past, he's been known to set them down on top of the car, on top of the refrigerator, in the pocket of his coat which left for work an hour ago, in HIS car--the list goes on and on) so, hunting for my keys is no easy feat. Cool, they were just in his jeans pocket, which were conveniently left on the floor for me. As I'm bending down to pick up his jeans, I notice a pee smell. I pick up Gabe's jammies which were discarded at my feet moments earlier. Great. Now I have to go check to see if he wet the bed. Of course he did, why else would his jammies smell like pee? Now I have to strip the bed, throw the sheets in the washer, quickly undress Gabe to wipe him down with a washcloth and re-dress him. Ok, time to go--2 minutes left. Just let me wash my hands and I'm off. Realize that there's no paper towel on the roll. Replace it. As I'm putting the roll onto it's holder, I knock over a spoon which held scant amounts of coffee grinds (or is it grounds?). As you well know, a scant amount of coffee grounds spilled onto your kitchen floor, actually looks like a mountain of coffee grounds. Isn't it funny how it spreads like wildfire? Pull out more paper towel and wipe it up. Well, for Heaven's sake, you can't just leave it there. That takes longer than you anticipate because...well, coffee grounds are a bitch to clean up. You go to toss it into the garbage. The garbage is spilling over. You quickly yank up the garbage to empty it. More coffee grounds spill onto the floor. F--K it, clean it up later. Grab keys. Walk out the door. Take the garbage to the bin outside and realize that it's garbage day. Throw everything into the bin and haul it down to the curb. Notice that the mail truck is 3 houses away from your own and you have a birthday card sitting on the kitchen table that NEEDS to go out today or else you'll hear allll about how you forgot so & so's birthday. Run like a mad man back into the house and grab the envelope, run down and personally hand it to the mail lady. Run back up to the car. Find Ben shoeless while Gabe wears my gold flip flops. Decide that shoes are optional and dismiss the whole shoe situation. Realize that Luna (dog) is outside. Try to get her into the house with little success. Trick her by asking if she 'wants to go bye-bye in the car'. When she reluctantly tries to get into the car, grab her collar and drag her back into the house. Get in the car. Press the garage door closer. Ben's bike is in it's way. Get out. Move the bike. Return to the car, reverse down driveway. Run over the garbage bin. Get out, pick up all the garbage that toppled over. Throw it back in the bid. Close the bin. Get in the car and......I'm off!!!! Only 39 minutes behind schedule. Not too shabby.
Whew!!!
embarrassment ensues
True Story. This only happened a matter of minutes ago, so I'm going to furiously type, as to accurately recall the series of events.
Took Gabe into see his pediatrician for his 4 year old wellness check this morning. After the physical examination, the doctor (who has no sense of humor or much of a personality whatsoever) hands Gabe a pen and asks him to draw a picture of his mom. I guess this exercise somehow measures his development...whatever. Anyway, Gabe says, "ummm, this pen is actually too heavy for me" and hands the pen back to him. The doctor reassures him that the pen isn't too heavy and could he please just draw the picture. Gabe sighs and gets started. He draws my eyes, my nose, my lips, my hair and my toe nails. Then he says to me, "What else should I draw, mommy"? I tell him to draw whatever he wants. To which he immediately replies, "Then I'm going to draw your big pee pee and your boobies". I turned 3 shades of red and buried my head in my lap. I peek up at the doctor, expecting him to be giggling. Oh no. No smile, no smirk...nothing. He was scribbling something in Gabe's file, probably indicating that my son is a perv.
The doctor then goes on and on asking me more questions about their diet, their tv exposure, etc... He asks how many glasses of milk I give them a day. I tell him one at breakfast and one at dinner. Ben pipes in, "NOOO, Uh-Uh....nooooo, remember at the restaurant last night you let us get Sprite"???? So, I kicked him. Then doc asks how much television/computer time my kids get. I said, "well, let's see, I let them watch tv while I'm making breakfast and again at night when they're winding down". Ben bursts out laughing and says, "we watch waaaaaay more tv than that"!!!!! If looks could kill, there would be a chalk line around Ben on the floor in the doctor's office. He pulled this crap with me last year during their physicals. I even warned them this morning NOT to act up. Doctor Personality yells at me some more about the importance of bike helmets. I nod. Ben throws me under the bus again. "Mom...Mom....uh-uh, Gabe DOES NOT wear a helmet...Mom, mom....."!!! Yeah, because GABE CAN'T RIDE A BIKE---which would clearly explain why Gabe doesn't wear a bike helmet. So, I find myself stuttering and sputtering to this doctor, like I'm on trial or something.
So, on the way home, I called my husband to tell him how beastly our children were, but then hung up because I figured he'd probably make a disgusting sexual reference with regard to my "big pee pee". I ended up circling my neighborhood because I was/am worried that the authorities have been notified. What if I get questioned by CPS because my kids are making dirty references to my pee pee? Great. That's all I need is a sex offender sign posted in my yard. As if I don't already have a glowing reputation in the neighborhood. Why do my children hate me so?
Off to do my kegels. What, with my big pee pee and all....
~Leslie
Took Gabe into see his pediatrician for his 4 year old wellness check this morning. After the physical examination, the doctor (who has no sense of humor or much of a personality whatsoever) hands Gabe a pen and asks him to draw a picture of his mom. I guess this exercise somehow measures his development...whatever. Anyway, Gabe says, "ummm, this pen is actually too heavy for me" and hands the pen back to him. The doctor reassures him that the pen isn't too heavy and could he please just draw the picture. Gabe sighs and gets started. He draws my eyes, my nose, my lips, my hair and my toe nails. Then he says to me, "What else should I draw, mommy"? I tell him to draw whatever he wants. To which he immediately replies, "Then I'm going to draw your big pee pee and your boobies". I turned 3 shades of red and buried my head in my lap. I peek up at the doctor, expecting him to be giggling. Oh no. No smile, no smirk...nothing. He was scribbling something in Gabe's file, probably indicating that my son is a perv.
The doctor then goes on and on asking me more questions about their diet, their tv exposure, etc... He asks how many glasses of milk I give them a day. I tell him one at breakfast and one at dinner. Ben pipes in, "NOOO, Uh-Uh....nooooo, remember at the restaurant last night you let us get Sprite"???? So, I kicked him. Then doc asks how much television/computer time my kids get. I said, "well, let's see, I let them watch tv while I'm making breakfast and again at night when they're winding down". Ben bursts out laughing and says, "we watch waaaaaay more tv than that"!!!!! If looks could kill, there would be a chalk line around Ben on the floor in the doctor's office. He pulled this crap with me last year during their physicals. I even warned them this morning NOT to act up. Doctor Personality yells at me some more about the importance of bike helmets. I nod. Ben throws me under the bus again. "Mom...Mom....uh-uh, Gabe DOES NOT wear a helmet...Mom, mom....."!!! Yeah, because GABE CAN'T RIDE A BIKE---which would clearly explain why Gabe doesn't wear a bike helmet. So, I find myself stuttering and sputtering to this doctor, like I'm on trial or something.
So, on the way home, I called my husband to tell him how beastly our children were, but then hung up because I figured he'd probably make a disgusting sexual reference with regard to my "big pee pee". I ended up circling my neighborhood because I was/am worried that the authorities have been notified. What if I get questioned by CPS because my kids are making dirty references to my pee pee? Great. That's all I need is a sex offender sign posted in my yard. As if I don't already have a glowing reputation in the neighborhood. Why do my children hate me so?
Off to do my kegels. What, with my big pee pee and all....
~Leslie
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