Ronald McDonald

Here's someplace wild that my imagination went one day after a comment my husband made:
It's suburbia. Plenty of Wal-Marts (ew), Targets, and Costcos...but above all the Golden Arches. Yes, the ubiquitous fast food haven brought to us courtesy of the McDonald brothers & Ray Kroc. The popular scapegoat for our nation's obesity epidemic never mind all the other components of the Western Diet and our own free will. (This is what my brain really did. Snarky, irrelevant comments happen to everyone).
Anyways, the Golden Arches, home of the Big Mac, the Chicken McNugget, and super-sized Coca-Colas. A teenage girl wearing too much make-up is manning the counter when 3 men walk in.  All 3 are dressed in rags with a five o'clock shadow even though it's only three and each one sports a shiny red nose.
"We need to speak to Ronald."
"Who?"
"You know who I mean, girlie.  Ronald done done us wrong and we mean to have a little chat with him," says one of the clowns.
"Like, no one named Ronald works here," says the cashier. "I can ask my manager?"
The clown pulls out a bright red sword balloon.  "Listen girlie, we DEMAND we talk to Ronald or there's going to be trouble!"
Clown 2 says, "Yeah, Mr. Whiteface thinks he's better than us hobo clowns.  We seen him sneering at us, all fancy like with his white nostrils and white back of the earlobes."
"But I don't know who Ronald is!!" shouts the girl.
"Don't know who he is?  He been posted on all them billboards ya'll have 'round town!!!  Don't you say you don't know nothing about Ronald.  You be hiding him in the back, I reckon," Clown 3 blasts a bicycle horn in the girl's ear.
"You mean, Ronald McDonald???" whispers the girl.  "He's coming in tomorrow afternoon for a birthday party. . ."
"That's another thing," says Clown 2.  "He been stealing all the work in this here town.  Reckon we'll come back tomorrow and straighten him up."  Simultaneously all three clowns poke their red noses. SQUEAK.  The message is clear.  They'll be back.
*********
15 minutes later at a nearby bar: (well, it's a coffeehouse.  This is suburbia after all.)
"HAHAHAHAHA!" the clowns laugh as they remove their make-up in the bathroom.  "Too bad Burger King doesn't have a clown.  That would be fun to do again!"

Lawn Mowing

"Hold out your arm," says the Husband.
"Why?", I ask warily.
"I need to practice my new trick."
So I hold out my arm and he proceeds to wrap a purple string around my arm. Then he (I can't tell you because that would reveal the trick and the Husband has sworn on his red nose to never do such a thing).
"You dropped it," I say none too kindly.
Exasperated, he says, "Yes. That's why I need to practice."
I turn to watch the news while he practices on my arm a few more times.
Then I notice I'm still sitting there like a moron with my arm sticking out. "Where're you going?" I say.
"I'm going to go cut the grass," he says.
"Oh okay," I say as if I know that's part of his plans (and vaguely I do).
Meanwhile in my head I'm freaking out about how I really hope I didn't miss any more important parts of our conversation. Apparently it is possible to tune out a clown!
Forgive me, hubbie.

Clown in the Quinceañera's Court Part 2

The one guy who's not wearing white is The Husband.  As you can tell, he draws a crowd.  Or as one of the teenagers put it and I quote, "He's tight!"  A ringing endorsement!

A Clown in the Quinceañera's Court

What every high school teacher wants to know: how do you gain the full attention of 16 teenagers in under five seconds?
Answer: Bring a clown to class
He doesn't have to be dressed as a clown. He can just be pretending to be an ordinary magician.
Here's what happened:
Setting: My coworker's daughter's Quinceañera (very awesome party, MF! Loved the presentation of the doll, it made me want to tear up!)
The husband started by showing a couple tricks to some kids at the next table. Then he started entertaining some of my coworkers and their spouses.
Then MF asks him to show her daughter a couple tricks. The Quinceañera and her court are gathered in the hallway, preparing for the dancing. He pulls out his red sponge balls and suddenly he has a huddle of kids around him. Amazing. I should start all of my classes with a magic trick...

Weird Stuff in My House-the short list

1. Rubber chicken
2. Gigantic black plastic trunk
3. Colorful plates & sticks
4. Block to walk around (see, I exercise!)
5. Random pieces of colorful latex (they're balloons! Get your head out of the gutter!)
6. 2nd rubber chicken
7. Aluminum-free baking powder
8. Gigantic tie
9. Robotic chicken that dances to "The Chicken Dance" and screams in a chicken-like way if you grab it by the head
10. Happie Amp (I did not make the name up! It's really called that!)
11. Circus coloring book
12. Plastic cups
13. Magician table
14. Slinky snake in dire need of recapitation (I would like to go down in history as the one who coined that term. What can I say? I covet glory.)
15. Eyeball that glows when you hit/bounce it

Ringling Bros!

The Husband is very excited because Ringling Brothers Circus is coming to town in a couple weeks and his clown alley gets to do something very special.  They're going to get to take the Ringling Bros clowns out grocery shopping after the show!  (This of course means they get to pick the professional clowns' brains for free).

Ringing in My Ears

Summer 2010
Clank clank. Toss turn. Start to return to sleep. Eyes close. Clink Clank. Ohh. Clinkety clank. Toss turn. Put pillow on head. Clink clank. It won't go away! Clinkety CLANK! It's getting louder. The Husband charges up the stairs. Needless to say, it's very late.
He turns on my lamp and holds up a bunch of metal rings. "Look at my new trick. Tell me if you see me mess up."
I watch, bleary-eyed. He does pretty well. I can't figure out how he does it, but then I am half asleep...
"Very cool," I say, "but practicing that trick at night is now against the law."

Shot in the Dark

This story takes place about a year and a half ago when The Husband was just starting out as a clown.

Bang! I sit straight up in bed. After midnight. I think to myself, "It finally happened. The gangbangers have finally come to my neighborhood. I knew that graffiti in the park was a bad sign."
Bang! "Oh my God, it's coming from downstairs!" I froze. The Husband's not in bed. I need to get the baby, get out, and call the police. But how will I save The Husband?
Bang! Wheesh! "Oh man!" says The Husband.
"Really?" I think.
"Get up here and come to bed! You've got work in the morning!" I holler. "And could you please refrain from practicing ballooning while I'm sleeping from now on?"

Hazards of the Job

So I'm usually dj at the parties. I'm trying to eat the food so as not to offend the host, ensure that the music playing is appropriate for the current act, and keep my 2 year old quiet (no easy task as any mother will tell you). I'm also supposed to be extra friendly with the guests when the party is for my husband's cousin.
So I'm choking down food so as not to offend (I already ate a lot so I am full! It's not an insult!) when out of the corner of my eye, I see my husband blowing up a white balloon. Ah. The wedding ring trick. Magically reappears inside the balloon. Extremely clever. Next he's going to pop the balloon so the kid can see it's really the ring. I put another spoonful in my mouth when I hear metal slap the ground. Then I feel a sharp stinging pain right below my eye. Then, I look in my lap and spy a gold circular object.
Yep. That's right people. He almost shot my eye out-with a wedding ring (ok, it's a decoy in case we lose it, but it's what the audience believes that matters). Ouch. I look at my aunt-in-law and say, "That's why he has insurance."