I am not sure who determines if a family is quirky or funny enough for a reality show or sitcom, but this is my ploy get one.
Earlier today, a commercial during the Cowboys/Packers football game showcased a new show … I forget the title (tragic I know) but I do remember the premise for the show …
By day the family owns a funeral parlor and by night, they are wrestlers. It’s like Hulk Hogan meets The Adams Family – and just as weird.
So, I am thinking, if this odd family who embalms the dead during the day and takes to the arena at night in horrid costumes, I sure as hell could get a film crew in BFE.
The first episode, the pilot, would explain the title, “Mom of Three Living in BFE.”
I am, after all, a mom living in the middle of nowheres-land with three kids under the roof; plus a husband (kinda like the fourth kid at times); and two cats, and whatever critters they drag into our garage/onto our porch and/or deck.
The kicker is, after living in BFE, I have adapted to it, that or I am starting to tolerate it more.
And by tolerating, let me say … right now, our garage smells like a mixture between rotten eggs and horse manure because in the winter, the leach bed freezes and causing a backup of, well dirty water.
We also have a septic tank that is probably needs to be suctioned clean. However, having to chuck over $400 to have someone come out and remove your shit is a little hard to swallow. However, now that five people crap here on a daily basis, we probably need to have it cleaned more than once every six five years.
That’s about all I can tolerate really – smells. In the summer, when the wind blows just right, the lovely smell of farmland fills the air. I am surprised Yankee Candle hasn’t made that scent yet since they have created every other scent known to man. Only this one, it could be marketed for “Getting rid of unwelcomed guests/dates.”
I still hate snakes, frogs and toads that appear out of nowhere and scare me to death when I am puttering in my garden. I hate bees, wasps and other big-ass bugs that find their way into our house and send me running around the house with a fly-swatter or rolled-up newspaper.
But, for the entertainment factor, I would be willing to tolerate these “first world BFE problems.”
The second episode could be called, “The Bosses.” And by that, I mean Seth and I are the bosses of this household, but yesterday, KK told us we are NOT her bosses. That started a conversation that went something like this …
“You can’t tell ME what to do,” she declared, with her veins sticking out of her neck.
“Uh, yes WE are!” Seth yelled back.
“OH no, you’re not!” she backfired.
“Well, fine, if we are NOT your bosses, we are not cooking your meals anymore. You can walk to the store for food. You can buy your own clothes,” he voiced back.
She stopped after “cooking your meals anymore” because in her 6-year-old mind, being her own boss meant cooking her own meals – the only thing she can make are peanut butter crackers.
But seriously, every single day, we are told we are not in charge of them. One day … one day we won’t be in charge of them any longer, but as long as they remain under our roof, yea, we are.
Dream on kiddos. Life isn’t always greener on the other side of the pasture.
The third episode could be titled “Bedtime is a PITA” – Pain In The Ass.
It’s also a lot like herding wild stallions into a barn – impossible and exhausting.
In fact, I am trying to write this blog now, but … my … eyes … are … starting … to …
Author: Melissa Linebrink
Parenthood is a crazy train where new members join daily.
We all can use a little company on the ... CRAZY TRAIN!
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