Right before my husband got his new job, he managed to get an army buddy of his a job working with him. We told this friend (we'll call him Buddy) he was welcome to stay in the front room of our home. It's a closed in formal living room that we had yet to put any furniture into. When my husband and I discussed it, I told my him that I had no problem with Buddy coming to stay with us for a few months until he could save up some cash to get his own place. After all, when we lived in Fort Hood Buddy basically lived at our house on the weekends anyway.
Shortly before Buddy moved here (ironically from Alabama), my husband was offered a job with a different company that would send him to Alabama for training followed by two years in Afghanistan separated by two weeks of R&R every six months or so. We didn't want to be assholes so we told Buddy he could still stay with me and the kids as long as he was okay with that. So now we have this surrogate male role model at our house. Sometimes it feel like he actually should have been a character in the movie Role Models.
Recently we went to Cracker Barrel. While waiting for our food, Buddy started looking through one of the kid menus. He came across an activity that involved designing your own candy, naming it, and picking out a flavor for it. He came up with Baby Babes. I suggested Maybe Babies. Buddy said Maybe Babies should be flavor of dead babies (salted). Sounds delicious right? Then he drew a picture of an embryo. I suggested they'd be gummy-like. Later Buddy came up with a catchy jingle. I mean, seriously, every great product needs a catchy jingle, right?
"Maybe Babies!
It tastes like a fetus.
You just can't beat us.
Maybe Babies!
C'mon and eat us."
LMAO! I think Buddy and I found the kids menu more entertaining than the children did. Something tells me the people at the tables around us didn't find our fetus humor very, well, humorous. Oh well, screw them.
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