Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Sometimes I write just for me........

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey A.J. Hellooooo Sweetheart. Hey Alex give Poppa a hug.”

“POPPAAAA!!!!!!!!!!”

“Where’s mom?”

“She’s at a meeting.”

“So you’re gonna babysit the kids by yourself?”

“Yep.”

“Both of them?”

“I think I can handle my grandkids for an hour.”

“But dad….”

“A.J. it’s not like they’re babies. Alex is six and Angelina is two. I can handle that.”

“I’m pretty.”

“Yes you are sweetheart.”

“Ice cream Poppa.”

“Uh… How about some apple instead?”

“No.”

“How about some grapes?”

“No grapes. Ice cream!!!!!!!”

“I wonder why she always asks for ice cream when she comes over here?”

“No clue son."

“Dad they’ve been good all day they can have pretty much anything they want just don’t overdo it.”

“Trust me son.”

“Dad… seriously…”

“I got this don’t worry.”

“Okay Angelina come here. We need to change your diaper before daddy leaves.”

“Thanks for that son.”

“She should be fine until Melina gets home.”

“Have a good time son.”

“Bye Daddeeeeee. Bye Dad.”

“Okay kids who wants ice cream?”

“MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”

“Poppa?”

“Yes Alex. “

“Can I play the X-Box?”

“Let’s see if we can’t find a TV show we all can watch instead. You’re not going to be here that long.”

“But Poppa I need to fight the forces of evil.”

“Yes we all do but you can’t fight the forces of evil without ice cream can you?”

“Um… I think I can Poppa. But I should have some ice cream just in case to recharge my energy.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Poppa.”

“Yes Angelina.”

“I pooped.”

“Seriously?”

“WHOA!!!!!! POPPA!!!!!! SHE DEFINTELY POOPED. We’re talking serious poopage Poppa. Man can my sister poop or what?

“Yes she’s a real pro.”

“You’re gonna need some Febreeze in here Poppa.”

“My lord how in the hell can such a sweet little thing hold so much poop?”

“She’s a Calabrese.”

Now I have to break this story up a little. The following is not my fault. When did they decide to make diapers that just pull up like underwear? How are you supposed to clean up a kid with a poopy diaper if the only way to take the diaper off is to just pull it down? The old diapers with the little tabs on the side made sense. You open it up, grab the legs with one hand, lift the kid, use thirty or forty baby wipes, grab a clean diaper with your free hand, slide the diaper under the clean butt and presto diaper changed. But how in the hell do you do that if the diaper slides off? There were no tabs. You yank that puppy down you’ve got poop everywhere.

I got a beach towel and old newspapers and set up on the tile floor in the kitchen.

“You want me to go outside and get the hose Poppa?”

“Not yet Alex.”

“Okay sweetheart I need to you to stand here. We’re gonna change your diaper.”

“Ice cream!!!”

“In a minute sweetheart.”

“I really think you’re gonna need the hose.”

“I can’t use the hose inside Alex, Gramma will kill me.”

“Hose her off outside.”

(Now I will admit that I thought about that for a moment. But only for a moment.”

“Just go in the living room and play the X-Box until I’m done here.”

“YES!!!!! You battle the poop and I’ll fight the forces of evil.”

Twenty minutes later I had changed her diaper. I had used the entire box of baby wipes and two sports sections. And I was definitely going to need to mop the kitchen floor.

“I’m pretty.”

“Whatever.”

“Poppa?”

“Yes sweetheart.”

“HANNAH MONTANA!!!!!!”

“What?”

“No way Poppa we are not watching Hannah Montana.”

“You’ve been fighting the forces of evil and now it’s your sister’s turn.”

“She can’t fight the forces of evil Poppa she doesn’t have any training.”

“HANNAH MONTANA!!!!!!”

“Do you want to listen to her yell for Hannah Montana for the next forty five minutes?”

“This sucks Poppa. She always gets her way.”

“Get used to it.”

“HANNAH MONTANA!!!!!”

“Fine just hold on a second sweetheart.”

So we all sit down to watch Hannah Montana. Five minutes into Hannah Montana……

“Scooooby Dooooooooo.”

“What?”

“Great Poppa, now she wants to watch Scooby Doo. She’s always changing her mind. You just can’t watch TV with her it’ll drive you nuts.”

“You want to watch Scooby Doo?”

“Yes.”

“Okay……..”

Five minutes into Scooby Doo.

“HANNAH MONTANA!!!!!!!!!”

“Told you Poppa.”

“Okay. Angelina how about Poppa reads you a story? You want to read a book?”

“Yes.”

“Can I play the X-Box Poppa?”

“Yes sure Alex.”

(Under his breath I hear….)

“Great. Now I have to start over. You’d think a grownup would know a woman can’t make up her mind.”

“Okay Angelina, go and pick out the book you want Poppa to read to you.”

“OOOOooooooooooooooooo.”

“Oh? Oh what sweetie?”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!”

“She wants you to read the Oprah magazine to her Poppa. She loves that.”

“You’re kidding.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“OOOOKay, Poppa will read “O” to you. The first story is called Oprah and the three bears…… and Oprah huffed and puffed and puffed and huffed and blew all the other talk shows away. And only Ellen was left and she had very short hair, not like your beautiful hair, so Ellen couldn’t let her hair out the window for a handsome prince to climb up and rescue her so she turned into a lesbian that loved to dance but never got her own magazine.”

“More Poppa.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s see here…. Stacy says the most important thing to look for when trying on jeans is the “rise” or crotch area. You don’t want any pulling or puckering or extra fabric up front….. Huh… I wonder if the same thing goes for guys jeans?”

“I love you Poppa.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

“YES!!!! Level six!!!!! I’m soooo good at this Poppa.”

“Can you read yet Alex?”

“Some stuff.”

“Would you like to read “O” to your sister?”

“No thanks.”

“You could learn how to look ten pounds slimmer.”

“I’m only six Poppa I’m already slim.”

“Grab the phone for me Alex.”

“Calabrese’s residence. Hi mom. I’m playing X-Box and Angelina pooped so Poppa is reading “O” to her. Hey mom what’s lesbian?’

“ALEX!!!!! Give Poppa the phone.”

“Hi Melina. Yes. She’s… well I’ll be… she’s asleep. No…. No trouble at all. Um… you’re all out of baby wipes though. Okay I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Okay Alex be very quiet you’re sister is asleep. Let’s turn the volume down.”

“Poppa you can’t fight the forces of evil with the volume turned down.”

“Try.”

“Fine, but if I die it’s on your head.”

“I can live with that.”

About ten minutes passed and I realized that I was actually reading “O” magazine. There were some great tips for grilling the perfect steak. Now everyone knows that women can’t use a barbecue so this must mean that men are supposed to read “O” magazine. By the way rub a stick of butter on each side of the steak every time you turn it to give it great color.

My beautiful granddaughter was curled up under my arm asleep. I’m sure she was dreaming Oprah thoughts and about getting a manicure and a pedicure. My wife would have killed for that moment.

When the kids left I straightened the house so that when my wife came home everything would be ship shape.

“Hey babe I’m home how were the kids.”

“Perfect.”

“No issues?”

“Nope.”

“The house looks clean.”

“Yep.”

“Well I guess grandpa can watch the kids… for the love of god!!!!! What the hell happened in the kitchen?

(I knew I forgot something.)

“Um…. She pooped. A lot. Major poopage. Alex wanted to get the hose but I took charge and cleaned her up in the kitchen.”

“Christ Calabrese newspapers and a beach towel? How many baby wipes did you use? The whole box?”

“There wasn’t that much left in the box. I forgot to clean it up once I got her changed. Boy I think I need the hose.”

“Idiot.”

“By the way….. “

“What?”

“Your jeans fit perfectly? No pucker at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just something I read.”




How could I not read Oprah Magazine to that face?

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

It's been too long so here's a brief moment of inspiration.

I believe it was Cher or possibly John McCain that sung, “If I could turn back time, If I could find a way…..”

Well you can’t.

Yesterday I found myself saying the following: “I’m going to get myself in the best shape of my life….”

Why?

The answer.

The Food Network.

I saw something yesterday that I could have only dreamed of.

It was on the Food Network Challenge. The episode was called “Super Heroes”.

There was this sandwich.

She was so beautiful.

A spaghetti and meatball sandwich.

Oh God.

Have you ever had one of those moments when you see a great work of art and you actually get emotional?

I wept.

Spaghetti and meatballs inside bread.

Say it with me people!!!!

Let me hear Amen!!!!

And the Lord looked down from the heavens and on the eighth day, the least talked about day, he created the spaghetti and meatball sandwich!!!

And it was good.

And all the angels in heaven said in one great voice, “Fuggetaboutit!”

And then he turned to Adam and Eve and said, “How U doin? Hey, why would you want to eat a friggin apple when I got youse a sandwich like this?”

But Eve turned out to be a liberal vegetarian and ruined the whole thing. And that’s when god created the calorie and the rice cake and ruined everything that tastes good.

And yes that is the story I will probably tell my grandchildren.

So I did the math.

One spaghetti and meatball sandwich is all the calories I can have for four days.

Communist bastards!!!!

My skinny wife says to me, “You know if you exercised more you could eat things like that every once in a while.”

Really?

If I exercised more?

I’d have to build the Great Wall of China on my own with nothing but a tablespoon and duct tape to burn off enough calories to eat a spaghetti and meatball sandwich!!!!!

Every once in a while?

Skinny people really have no clue. They do not understand food. They think food is just for sustenance.

Barbarians!

These are the same people that want to go “green”.

That’s when I uttered the following, “I’m going to get myself in the best shape of my life so that I can eat all the spaghetti and meatball sandwiches I want!”

What was I thinking?

Then I realized if I ate all the spaghetti and meatball sandwiches that I “want”, I couldn’t possibly be in the best shape of my life.

This posed what we food scientists call a “conundrum”.

But using my superior intellect it dawned on me that I was already not in the best shape of my life. So technically if I’m already not in the best shape of my life then eating all the sandwiches I want couldn’t hurt.

Do you follow me?

Here’s how I explained this to my wife.

“Ask yourself the following question: Am I in Moscow?”

“Of course I’m not in Moscow.”

“If you’re not in Moscow you must be “somewhere else”.

“Duh.”

“If you’re “somewhere else” you can’t be “here”.”

“What?”

If you’re not “here” then you must be “somewhere else”.

“You’re an idiot.”

So if you’re “somewhere else” you can’t be eating a spaghetti and meatball sandwich with me “here”.

“How does that pea sized brain of yours come up with this stuff?”

“Stay with me babe. So if you’re not “here”, and I’m with you, then I must be “somewhere else”, so I’m not “here” either. So I can’t possibly be eating a spaghetti and meatball sandwich “here” so this could only be a dream and the calories wouldn’t count!!!’

“Just make the stupid sandwich.”

Thank god for a Catholic School education.

Monday, April 06, 2009

This.... I.... I don't even know how to title this one.

I want to start out with saying that I do not read women’s magazines. If I did my head would probably explode or I would turn gay so I don’t read them… ever.

My wife on the other hand reads them all.

The other day my wife and I were sitting on the couch in the living room. I was watching Man vs Food and she was reading one of her magazines. I think it was called Elle or Evil or something like that.

She pushes the magazine in my face ands says, “Look at this purse. Guess how much that purse costs.”

“No.”

“Just guess.”

“I don’t want to guess.”

“You won’t believe how much it costs.”

“I don’t care how much it costs.”

“Play along. Just guess.”

“Fine. $12 dollars.”

“Idiot. It’s $2,800 dollars. That’s what a $2,800 dollar purse looks like.”

“It looks the same as a $28 dollar purse to me. Who the hell spends $2800 dollars on a purse? Wouldn’t you rather have $2,772 dollars and a $28 dollar purse to put it in?”

“You don’t get it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Give me back my magazine,”

“Look at these stupid ads. If you bought the purse, shoes, dress, makeup and earrings on this page you’d spend over $20,000.”

“No. You’d spend over $20,000. Women don’t buy that stuff they get their men to buy it for them.”

“Not this man.”

“You wouldn’t spend $20,000 to make me look beautiful?”

“Sweetheart you’d look better at $200.”

“What?”

“I mean I don’t need to spend anything on you. You’re beautiful at any price.”

“You’re so full of shit Calabrese.”

“OH MY GOD!!!”

“What?”

“Did you read this?”

“What?’

“The story under the papaya.”

“What papaya?”

“THIS PAPAYA RIGHT HERE!!!!!”

(From magazine)

“Suddenly there seems to be a niche market for putting the va-va-voom back into your va-jay-jay, with specialized treatments and products designed to tighten and firm the region.”

“They’re tightening va-jay-jays now!!!!! Can you believe it??? I knew it was just a matter of time. First the e-mails for penis enhancement and bigger breasts and now this! Tightening the va-jay-jay!!!! Unbelievable!!!!”

“Give me back my magazine numb nuts. Why did you read this in the first place?”

“I was looking at the papaya. I love papaya. What the hell does papaya have to do with va-jay-jay anyway? You women are sick. Now you’re ruining fruit.”

“Hand over the magazine Calabrese or die.”

“This is so stupid. Who’s running around going, “Boy I wish I had a tighter va-jay-jay right now.”?”

“You’re pushing it.”

“With all the penis enlargement going on you don’t even need to tighten va-jay-jays do you? It’s kind of redundant don’t you think?”

“Calabrese……”

“When are they going to come up with a specialized treatment that lets us men get to the va-jay-jay in the first place? That’s what I want. Where’s that treatment?”

“If you ever want to see a va-jay-jay again you will hand over my magazine.”

“Here. I can’t believe the crap you women read. Tightening va-jay-jays… unbelievable. How come we can enlarge a penis and tighten a va-jay-jay but we can’t build a decent electric car? Hell, build an electric car and call it the Va-Jay-Jay and you’ll sell out in a week.”

“You want to name an electric car a Va-Jay-Jay?”

“Why not? We already have a Volvo. That sounds a lot worse than a Va-Jay-Jay.”

“You think Volvo sounds worse than Va-Jay-Jay?”

“I think a Volvo sounds like the part of a Va-Jay-Jay a man can never find.”

“That sounds like a joke you tell on stage.”

“Actually I think Va-Jay Jay should be the name of the car company. Chrysler, Ford, GM and Va-Jay-Jay. They could sell Volvo’s.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“It would save the economy. Ouch!!!! Don’t hit me with that!!! Unroll that magazine!!!”

“I’m never showing you anything in one of my magazines again ever.”

“Fine. I’m okay with that.”

“Where are you going?”

“The grocery store. I have a sudden craving for papaya.”

Thursday, March 12, 2009

My Kingdom for a Thin Mint

So the Girl Scout Cookies are here.

Great.

Just great.

I bought four cases of Thin Mints.

I sent them to the troops.

I almost felt like enlisting.

So I don’t have any Girl Scout Cookies.

None.

Nada.

Zip.

Zilch.

I actually feel refreshingly free.

No pressure to eat a box an hour.

I can sit here happily with my carrot chips and apple slices. I may even have a cool drink of water. Boy I wish I could have some broccoli today to take the edge off. That would be perfect.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW IN THE HELL CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO NOT WANT A THIN MINT???????

SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!

The damn things are everywhere!!!!!!!

So here’s the deal. One of the temptresses that works for me has every kind of Girl Scout Cookie imaginable on her desk.

Right out in the open.

Can you believe it?

I wanted to stab her in the head with my letter opener. But I had just used it to cut my apple.

I can smell the damn things from my office. In my head I start to do the caloric math. If I have one serving of Thin Mints, which I believe, is one plastic sleeve, that’s 16 cookies at 40 calories each for a total of 640 calories a serving. I have to walk twenty paces to her office so that will burn off about 300 calories. Today is Thursday so I get an automatic deduction of 200 calories. I looked briefly at the sun so that’s another 150 calories. I watched 15 seconds of an infomercial for a Bow Flex at 10 calories a second so that’s another 150 calories. So let’s see… if I eat 16 Thin Mints I will actually burn off 160 calories or... I could just eat 4 more and break even.

I didn’t even need my calculator for that.

So I walk over to her office, breaking a sweat midway and… and… there are no Thin Mints.

What the hell?

How can you have every kind of Girl Scout Cookie right out in the open and not put out Thin Mints?

“Uh….. No Thin Mints?”

“I don’t put those out.”

“What?”

“People eat them all so I don’t put them out.”

“What are you some type of heathen?”

“They eat the Thin Mints too fast so I just take them home for me.”

“How many boxes do you have?”

“Why?”

“I just want to know.”

“A few.”

“How many is a few?”

“Ten.”

“I’ll give you $100 for them.”

“They’re not for sale.”

“$200.”

“I’m not selling them.”

“$300 final offer.”

“I’m not selling my Thin Mints.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I can’t sell them to you. Your wife says you’re not supposed to eat them.”

“My wife doesn’t work for me.”

“Have a carrot.”

“What?”

“Your wife told us that if you ask for Thin Mints we’re supposed to tell you to eat a carrot.”

“Remind me to fire her when I get home.”

“You know there are other kinds of cookies here.”

“I wanted Thin Mints. Hell. What are these? Chocolate Chip? I guess I’ll have a few of those.”

“Um… Those...”

“SPAWN OF SATAN!!!!! WHAT’S WRONG WITH THESE COOKIES? PLLLLLTTT!!!! PLLLLLTTT!!!!”

“They’re sugar free.”

“They taste like crap. What’s happening to this country when the Girl Scouts start selling garbage like this? That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth and I drink tequila. God that’s bad. PLLLLTTTTTT!!!!!! PLLLLLTTTT!!!!!! Don’t they taste test this filth.”

“Sorry.”

“Why would you buy these?”

“They have less calories.”

“So does dog poop but you don’t eat that. Let me see that box. Wait a minute. These actually have more calories than a Thin Mint. Look at this. A serving is 3 cookies and there’s 160 calories a serving. That’s about 54 calories a cookie. A Thin Mint is only 40 calories a cookie!!!!!”

“I didn’t know.”

“Why in the hell would they make a sugar free cookie that tastes that bad and then make it more calories than a Thin Mint. Who was the marketing genius behind that? That idiot needs to be hanged!”

“I guess I could open a box of Thin Mints. But...”

“Of course you could. You’d actually be helping me lose weight.”

“Can I still have the $300?”

“Do you still want a job?”

“You should probably just have a carrot.”

“How much is my wife paying you?”

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“Obama gets elected and now this. I can’t believe this. Communists everywhere. Stupid Democrats. Stupid sugar free cookies. Stupid Thin Mints. Stupid Girl Scouts. Stupid Democrats. Stu…”

“You already said Stupid Democrats.”

“They deserved it twice.”

“Just go back to your office. Maybe you should drink one of your diet shakes.”

“Does a diet shake crunch like Thin Mint?”

“Maybe if you walked around the block....”

“With my luck those little Girl Scout drug dealers will be selling the damn things on the corner... Wait..... Maybe I will go for a walk.”

“Um…. You’re supposed to give us your money clip if you leave the building.”

“My wife?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I’ll just go back to my office. I’ll have a carrot stick. Yum. My life is whole now. I hope you’re satisfied.”

*************************

“Andrea? It’s Mimi. Tony did exactly like you said but we didn’t give him any Thin Mints.”

“That’s great. I’ll give him a little treat for being good when he gets home.”

“Thin Mints?”

“Nope. Lucky Charms.”

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

She loves the smell of shopping in the morning.

We’re in March so all of my... okay... the one New Years Resolution I made is already broken. I had resolved to have an “Ab” by the end of the year but…okay… maybe resolved isn’t the best word. I had “hoped” to have an “Ab”, but that would have required crunches that are not made by Nestles so that ain’t gonna happen.

So here we are in March, the season of Lent. Apparently being Catholic I’m supposed to give up something for Lent. So I figured I’d give up the same thing I gave up for New Years.

Hope.

My wife on the other hand made a real sacrifice. She gave up shopping. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen her weeping over an Estee Lauder catalog. She was crying and smacking herself in the head with it. The entire time she just kept repeating the same phrase, free gift with purchase (smack)... free gift with purchase (smack...”

I wanted to laugh.

But I was afraid.

My wife gave up shopping?

Part of me was thinking, “There is a god”. The other part was thinking, “Maybe that’s not my wife.”

What if the “pod” people captured my wife and substituted her for an alien that was on a budget?

Um... Maybe.......

No...

I would want my real wife.

She’s the only one that knows where my keys are.

I wonder...... Would this alien give me back the television remote?

“Um... Hi babe.”

“YOU DID THIS TO ME!!! (smack)”

“What? Why is this my fault? And stop hitting yourself in the forehead with that catalog.”

“I can’t believe you made me give up shopping. (smack)”

“Me? I made you give up shopping? Are you telling me that there is some magical word out there that I spoke that put a curse on your credit cards? Because if there is I need to know what it is for when this no shopping thing wears off.”

“Don’t screw with me right now Calabrese.”

“What? What did I do?”

“I gave up shopping for Lent so I could go to Ireland.”

“And that is my fault because.......?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“You’re just going through withdrawals.”

“I gave up shopping!!!!!!!!!!! And on top of that I’ve got some kind of bites all over me, I’m itchy, I’m bitchy and... And... something needs to die.”

“Uhhhh... I need to go put something away... a lot.”

“Free gift with purchase, (smack)”.

“Jeez just buy something babe. You’re gonna have a big red welt in the middle of your forehead.”

“Really? You want me to buy something? Really?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“A supportive husband would see the effort his wife is making to save money for her trip but nooooooooo........... You want me to break my Lent sacrifice. I can’t believe you. (Smack)”

“This is one of those times that no matter what I say I’m wrong isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Smack away babe. Smack away.”

I have to give her credit. Every year my wife her aunt and her cousin go to New York usually over St. Patrick’s Day. Maybe the whole St. Patrick Day thing has rubbed off on them because now they want to go to Ireland. Why three Portuguese women want to go to Ireland I have no idea? Are there outlet malls in Dublin?

So they are going to spend a couple days in New York, see a couple of plays and then fly to Ireland. The whole trip isn’t going to be cheap so she’s making an effort to save a few bucks now.

But she’s a tad edgy.

The following is an e-mail she sent to me today:

“I was in our little coffee area grabbing my yogurt and mentioned I was hungry. Rosemary brought me a "Bora Bora Organic Snack Bar".... yeeeaaahhh, that's what I was craving.... seeds!! It looks like something a big bird would crap! She said it's very nutritious... code for "tastes like shit"!!

So, to sum up.... I'm in shopping jail, I was viciously and repeatedly attached by unknown insect assailants, blown off by my doctor, and then offered bird crap to make me feel better. What's wrong with this picture??? How did this become my life???”


So I needed to do something to make her feel better.

I bought her a box of Lucky Charms.

I haven’t given it to her yet.

That’s a gift you have to give at the right moment.

Like when they’re boarding..........