Whew! I have been terribly busy these past two weeks.

Too busy to clean the house (just ignore the carpet, K?)

Too busy to make dinner (yay for takeout!).

Too busy to even play create in my crafting room! Now THAT'S busy!

Busy doing what you ask? (Yes, I heard you).

I've been uber-busy sitting in a chair doing my bestest impersonation of a spongy lump soaking in every minute of the Olympics that I can. The skiing, the skating, the curling, the hockey, oh my!

I sure will miss all the excitement and patriotism next week when life gets back dull normality.

I will also miss the conversations it has inspired. Like the other day when hubby and I were discussing our Canadian Mens Curling Team. I had heard that one of the team was apparently so superstitious, he was wearing the same socks for each game. It worked I guess, since they posted a perfect 9 and 0 after Round Robin play.

Me: "Well, I am sure he washes them..."

Hubby: "No he wouldn't, it'd take the MoJo off."

Me: Ick.

I don't think I'd want that much "MoJo" squishing in between my toes... not for all the Gold Medals in the world.

Okay, scratch that. I shamefully will admit it.

Yes. Yes I would.

If you're a long-time reader, you may recall a few years back I posted about our troubles with Home Depot. Well, not with the store itself, but with its dialing-challenged customers who mistakingly call our phone ALL.THE.FREAKIN.TIME.

(And if you don't recall, or weren't around here in 2007, click the link to read the post. If you want. You don't have to. But if you do that's okay too.)

The gist of the story was that our home phone number which I chose in 1987 just so happens to be one digit different from a newly-built Home Depot's main line. Of course this means that since the day they opened, we are the lucky recipients of numerous calls from Home Depot customers who don't bother to look up their number. They assume it begins with the same digit as ours since it's located in the same neighborhood.

It doesn't.

Anyhoo, for years hubby has continued a little prank that apparently, only HE thinks is funny.

Every so often without rhyme or reason, he answers the phone with the phrase "Home Depot!" Unfortunately, his uncanny sense of timing chooses the precise moments when one of my family calls. Luckily after nearly 30 years of marriage, they are quite used to his "sense of humour" (yes, air quotes there) and merely respond with a quick "Is Maureen there?" as he laughs at his own "wit" (ditto air quotes), while I cringe in embarassment and apologize to them for my husband's behaviour. Again.

But last week it finally happened. I don't know why he picks certain times to answer our phone this way, but just after noon last Sunday, the phone rang and he answered with a cheery "Home Depot!". I was in the kitchen cleaning up from brunch when I rolled my eyes once more, preparing to take the call and make the inevitable apology. I shook my head and prayed to the gods that he would stop doing that.

Which is when my prayers were answered, for the next thing I heard was him sputtering:

"Um, no, sorry.... I, er, no this really ISN'T Home Depot."

"No, it isn't!"

And from the next room I burst out laughing. I only wished I could be privy to the other end of the conversation.

"Uh, no was just kidding..." He sounded like a school boy being chastised by a teacher.

"No, you have the wrong number" he stammered. Apologizing more than once he eventally convinced the caller, giving them the right number.

"Oh geez." He was deep crimson, finally hanging up the phone. "That was a little old lady who was sure this was Home Depot."

"I feel so bad. I really confused her. I don't think she believed me."

And I burst out laughing some more.

Serves him right. I just wish I would have thought of this years ago. I could have hired someone to portray a feeble but kind little old lady and he never would answer the phone that way again.

Silly me.

When I entered Junior High in 1972, I had two choices; either join a sports team and become one of the "Cool" kids or don't and get labelled a Nerd.

Since I have the athletic prowess of, well, me, I accepted the fact that I was indeed, a Nerd.

But I was a Nerd with a plan. For you see I soon discovered a loophole in the intricate hierarchy of power and acceptance that is Junior High. If I couldn't actually Play at sporting events, the next best thing was to Cheer at them.

So I tried out for the Cheerleading Squad in Grade 7. And to my stunned amazement, I made it! I WAS Semi-Cool!

Now keep in mind in those days, "Cheerleading" merely consisted of a bunch of girls in skirts, bulky woolen sweaters and white runners singing and clapping. There may have been, for the more advanced and coordinated Cheerleader, the odd "jump". There were no acrobatics; no pyramids, no intricate dance routines. It is only because of this fact that I kept my pom-poms in Grade 8 too.

It was great. All the fun of cross-city tournaments and absolutely none of the stress. If we lost, it wasn't my fault. But when we won, well, of course, it was due to our incredible clapping skills! I still recall my favorite classic cheer which at that time, was NEW - before it was sung it at Every Freakin' Sporting Event Ever Since:

Go! Canada Go!

I didn't know that when is is - 30 C outside, my husband considers driving to work in an ice cube of a car as a normal feat.

I, on the other hand, do not.

I knew that since his truck was in the shop for some uber-expensive repairs (are there any other kind?) we would have to car pool for a few days.

I know I always warm up my van until I can travel to work in warm cozy comfort. He, on the other hand doesn't; he thinks nothing of hastily speeding out of the driveway at the last possible moment, scraping frost from INSIDE the windshield each morning.

We both know I prefer to drive the van, so as I gingerly held the frozen steering wheel to prevent my bare fingers from going numb, I knew I had left my gloves in my briefcase stowed beside the second row of seats behind hubby.

I didn't know however, how many impressive contortions hubby would twist himself into in an attempt to find them.

I also didn't know, until I heard the familiar "click" of his seatbelt being undone while I sped down the highway, that he would lean over the top of the passenger seat untethered until he proudly retrieved those gloves for me.

And lastly, I didn't know until I arrived at the office, that my new red Olympic mitts had been mere inches away in my purse the whole trip. Well within my reach.


It's just a good thing he never knew it either.

UPDATE: We have a winner!

Congratulations to Connie, from Tails From the Foster Kittens!!! Random.org chose her to be the recipient of some awesome candy and cartoony goodies from Teletoon Retro. Connie, please email me your address so I can send you your prize!

Thank you so much to Kate from Teletoon Retro for the incredible prize packages. And thanks to everyone who entered. I only wish I had 60 prizes so everyone could have won.

Have you ever gone to a blog, read that title and thought, "Cool! I want to win candy!" only to be severely disappointed to see that there is, in fact, NO candy at all? I mean sure they offer 'prizes', but no actual CANDY.

No?

So that's just me then? Crap.

Well, today there IS candy. And lots of other goodies too.

No, I am not giving away my steadily-dwindling stash of Christmas chocolates. I am not even clearing out that huge bowl still hidden away stored-out-in-the-open-(closet)-where-any-of-my-family-can-partake-of-them-if-they-really-wanted-to of Rockets I bought last Halloween.

Nope. This is the bestest candy of all ... Fresh Candy!

After posting Perfectly Imperfect back on January 12th where I mentioned my all-time favorite TV channel Teletoon Retro, I actually recieved an email from Teletoon Retro.

My first panicked reaction on realizing who was writing was "Oh crap! What did I do now?"

But Kate Dickson from Teletoon Canada was so kind.

More than kind.

Extremely Incredibly Kind! I confessed I was a tad more than insanely jealous of her job... I mean, to get PAID to watch cartoons??? Are you serious???

*Sigh*

Now there's an occupation I would love. Imagine being the one to choose programming like the celebration of the Winter Olympics by featuring Scooby-Doo's Laff-A-Lympics every night. I could be the one to review all those classic cartoons and finding just the perfect ones to air on Valentine's Day too...

Okay maybe not. I doubt I could decide since I love them all. I guess I'll just have to accept my fate and simply PRETEND I work there; 'cause last week, looky what showed up on my doorstep:


Holy crapoly! A reusable Toony bag filled with a great Loony Tunes storybook, the Scooby-Doo All Star Laff-a-Lympics DVD, a Rubik's cube Teletoon Retro keychain, a very cool Teletoon Retro coffee mug, candy, candy, and more candy!

Oh, and did I mention she sent A SECOND prize pack for one of my blog readers??? Yuppers! It contains exactly the same things I have laid out above, but still in it's pretty wrapping and ribbons just waiting for a new home.
So if you want to win REAL BLOG CANDY (along with all the other fantastic Toony goodness), just let me know in your comments.

I'll pick a random winner on Monday, February 15th.

Good luck!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my pretend job here at Psuedo-Teletoon-Retro. I have cartoons to watch, a book to read, a puzzle to figure out and a whole whack of candy to snack on. It looks like a full day.

But first I have to figure out how I can possibly dip that huge sucker into my Teletoon mug of steaming coffee...

In one of her rare appearances at home (in-between work, school and social engagements our house has become merely a pit-stop of late), I had a brief few minutes to spend with daughter. Somehow our conversation veered off onto the subject of the upcoming Winter Olympics in Vancouver:

Me: "So, did you hear that a Winnipegger will be the flag bearer at the Olympics?"

Her: "Nope. Who?"

Me: "Clara Hughes. She has won medals at both the Summer and Winter Games."

Her: "For what?"

Me: "Cycling and speed skating."

Her: "Oh good. I was afraid you were going to say Curling."

Me: "Hey! I was a Curler you know! Came fourth in the Provincials one year." (Yep, I pull that little fact out whenever I can.... which, sadly, is nearly never.)



Her: "I know, that just proves it's not a sport."

Me:

Her: * smirk *

Me: "So you're calling me un-athletic?"

Her: "You say that all the time! I'm just agreeing with you."

I hate to admit it, but she's right... about me, that is. I am terrible at sports. If there were medals awarded for being the worst in athletics, I would indeed capture the Gold.

And then I would proceed to take a header off the podium.

Oh sure, I was in the Provincial playoffs, but unfortunately my most memorable Curling experience was when I went flying on the ice in a SPEC-TAC-U-LAR free-fall and landed flat on my butt.

In front of an audience, natch.

Luckily only my pride was hurt... I got up and continued to play, desperately trying to keep anyone from noticing the tears welling up in my eyes.

* Sigh *

I guess I will never have Olympic Dreams.

But I do rock the snazzy mitts.