Friday, June 19, 2015


A few weeks ago, my husband and I went to the library together.  Almost immediately, I found two wonderful books that I couldn't wait to read, so since Dave was still happily perusing the magazine section, I checked out my items and went back to the car and opened one.  I was so deeply absorbed in my reading when he returned, that I never even noticed what items he brought out, but I did remember him saying that he had both books and magazines.
After finishing my books about a week later, I told Dave I was taking mine back and would return his items too, if he liked.  After considerable thought, he decided I could return his books, but said that he hadn't finished with his magazines just yet, so even though he might have an overdue fine, he wanted to wait until he was done with them.
Time went on...and on...and on.  Despite several reminders, one thing led to another and it wasn't until yesterday, when I mentioned that I was going to the library again, that he finally acquiesced and agreed I could return them.
"Where are they?" I asked, as I surveyed the room looking for the two or three magazines he had borrowed.
"I set them on the kitchen table for you." he answered, very casually.
As I turned towards the table, an audible gasp escaped my lips and my eyes widened in disbelief. I was looking at a pile of magazines; a very large pile.
Apparently, my reaction alarmed him, because, before I could utter a word, I saw Dave standing in the kitchen doorway with a very worried look on his face.
"Why did you do that??" he asked, apprehensively.
"Why, you ask???"  I said.  "Why did I do that?"
"Yes, why did you do that?"  He repeated. "Why did you make that sound?"
By that time I was too busy counting to respond, but I knew he was beginning to feel uneasy.  When I reached thirteen I paused to look in his direction, before returning to my task. It was the look of a woman who has just had the last shred of doubt that she is married to a crazy person completely erased from her mind. I finished counting.
"Dave, you have 18 magazines here. I am not kidding; you have eighteen of them."
"I know," he said as if this was not the least bit out of the ordinary. "The library had a lot of magazines that I liked."
Again my eyes widened, because, knowing how fond Dave is of money, I was surprised that he was handling the idea of parting with so much of it, this easily.
It was then that I mentioned that, while I was not familiar with the specific late fee charged for magazines, I was confident his fine was going to be a substantial one.
"I better call the library and find out," he said quickly.
After a polite inquiry, worded more as a hypothetical than a real concern, he returned to tell me the fine was 15 cents.  He looked relieved.
"I will need a calculator for this," I said, and his look of relief quickly dissipated.
"18 times 15 cents equals two dollars and seventy cents."  I said. "I can't remember how long you have had these, but it could be a month.  Let me multiply that by 30 days... that comes to 81 dollars.  No, that can't be possible. Let me do that again. No, I was right.  It really is 81 dollars.  You owe $81 in overdue fees for these magazines, Dave."
At this point, I began to laugh very hard.  In fact, I am laughing just as hard as I type these words a full day later. It is my very favorite part of being married to Dave. Whether it is my own mishap or his, the laughter has always belonged to us both.  Sometimes though, only one of us laughs first, and on this occasion that person was me.
I noticed at this time, that all the color had drained from Dave's face as he struggled to process the idea that he was going to have to spend $81 on 18 magazines that he wouldn't even own when all was said and done.
"I didn't even read all those magazines!"  He shouted, by way of defense. "I only glanced at a couple of them, so it isn't fair to charge me that much!"
"That isn't how it works, Dave.  Although your magazines might be delinquent because you are a juvenile delinquent, that does not result in a lower overdue fee. You are 56 years old.  You understand the concept of "borrowing" items from a library."
"No, I do not. I thought she meant that it would be 15 cents a day for all of them... not each of them. That would be about $5.  I am okay with five dollars.  I don't want to pay $81 dollars."
Feeling pity for him, I suggested he call back up for the actual total since I was not sure the exact amount of days the items were overdue. I waited at the door for the answer. I heard him say almost jubilantly that the amount was only (only?) $36 dollars and how happy he was to hear that news. As I was leaving the house though, I heard him as he was apologizing for the delay and explaining, truthfully, that between the clinical trial he was participating in, as well as numerous visits to his doctor's he had gone to, that he had simply let time get away from him.  As always, he sounded charming. 
Upon reaching the return desk, I set down the hefty pile of magazines I had carried in. Before I could even explain myself though, she asked me if they were David's returns. When I said that they were, I was informed that although it was not the policy of the library, she had secured permission to reduce Dave's fines in half if I returned with documentation from the hospital.  
I was genuinely touched, although not surprised; Dave has a way about him with women. I thanked her for her kindness and then politely declined the offer.  I explained that as lovable as he was, he was still a delinquent, delinquent so he would need to pay full restitution for his crimes.
The most amusing part of this whole story though, is that upon returning to my car, I glanced at my receipt and noticed what all the magazines were...Kiplinger's Finance Magazine.  When I got home I told Dave I had a way for him to save money and I didn't even need to read one of those...just return your magazines on time in the future. :)

Blessings ~ Amycita~

Friday, March 27, 2015


At preschool recently, I mentioned something about my mother, to the littles. The puzzled expressions that were reflected on their faces, were quickly explained when one child voiced the question that they all wanted to ask.
"YOU have a MOTHER, Mrs. Valente?" the little asked me without any attempt to conceal the look of utter disbelief on his face. "You mean YOU are a KID???"
"Yes!!" I said, indignantly. "I certainly DO have a mother; technically, that makes me a kid.  I am merely an old kid."
It is the same thing of course, when it comes to the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Two years ago I attested to this fact when I wrote a post for my blog entitled "THEY WILL ALWAYS BE LITTLE GIRLS TO THE EASTER BUNNY."  In matters of mothers and magical holiday personae, you will always be a kid; provided you do not fall victim to the skeptics, and foolishly, allow them to convince you otherwise. In this case, you will be doomed to a life on the dark side. Your days of joyfully hunting for your basket on Easter morning are over, and you have nobody to blame but yourself.  This idea pains me because there are few things sadder in life, than watching everyone else eat their Easter candy, while you are left with nothing more than the hard-boiled eggs. Because of this, I will share the secret to regaining your good standing with the Easter Bunny...and please, bear in mind that these same rules are applicable with Santa Claus, as well.  Don't blow it; this might very well be your last chance.
Okay, if you had taken the time to read the post I mentioned earlier, you should already understand the two requisites involved in getting an Easter basket for the rest of your life. They consist of loudly stating a declaration of your lifelong, unwavering belief in the Easter Bunny,  AND, more importantly, MAKING THIS DECLARATION IN FRONT OF YOUR  MOTHER!!!
As hard as it is to believe, it is that simple.  The Easter Bunny is available to you for the rest of your life, as long as you NEVER EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, say to your mother that you have any doubts that he exists. Your mother and the Easter Bunny are good, "from your mouth to your mother's ear" translates into, "from your mother's mouth to the Easter Bunny's ear," in equal parts. DO NOT voice even the slightest hint of doubt about the Easter Bunny's existence to your mother...unless you hate Easter candy. 
You will be tested though.  Life is hard and the Easter Bunny is not exception to the rule. From the time you are a small child, evil people will try to shame you into saying that you do not believe in him.  They will call you a baby and make you feel silly...but that is only because their hearts have been hardened by the fact that they no longer get Easter baskets!!  Why is that, you ask??? Well, I will tell you why....IT IS BECAUSE THEY TOLD THEIR MOTHERS THAT THEY NO LONGER BELIEVED IN THE EASTER BUNNY!!!  
About this time, many of you are feeling secure about your good-standing with the Easter Bunny.  You, foolishly, think that you are too smart to fall for their tricks, and that the memory of last year's candy is enough to ensure that you will never succumb to doubt. YOU ARE WRONG!!!!  TRUST NO ONE...INCLUDING YOUR PARENTS!!! I am sorry to tell you this, but the sad truth is that even your own parents, in fact, mainly your own parents, will attempt to lure you into an admission of doubt.  I beg you, please, DON'T DO IT!!  If you ever say to them that you do not believe in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, it is all over! They still love you, but they are suffering from candy deprivation, and along with all the other holiday heretics, they want you to suffer the same fate as them! They will even sink so low, as to offer their lack of baskets as proof that the Easter Bunny doesn't exist!!!  There are no lengths that these individuals are unwilling to go to, to add one more member to their basketless existence.  REMEMBER, THEY ARE ONLY BASKETLESS BECAUSE THEIR OWN PARENTS TRICKED THEM  INTO SAYING THAT THE EASTER BUNNY WASN'T REAL!!! 
Now if you are smart, like my daughter Jamie was, you will ensure a lifetime of Easter baskets by saying, in a very loud voice in front of the entire family and all of mankind, that for as long as you have breath in your old, decaying body,  you expect the Easter Bunny to hide a basket at your mother's house.  Once these words are uttered, you are safe.  NOTHING will undo the magic these words will provide to you and yours siblings, who, even though they are all over the age of twenty, are smart enough to be nodding their heads vigorously, in agreement.  
One last thing...should you have already succumbed to parent/bunny pressure, do not despair.  You simply must recant your earlier statements and, in a very contrite and sorrowful voice, say that you were misled.  State loudly and with undeniable enthusiasm, that you DO BELIEVE IN THE EASTER BUNNY!!! STATE, WITH THE ZEAL OF A TRUE BELIEVER, THAT YOU KNOW IN YOUR HEART OF HEARTS, THAT THE EASTER BUNNY FORGIVES YOU, AND THAT YOU WANT TO RECAPTURE THE MAGIC OF YOUR CHILDHOOD, WHICH YOUR MOTHER, SELFLESSLY, PROVIDED YOU WITH.  Of course, unless you say this in front of your mother, it does no good.  Obviously, not even the Easter Bunny loves you more than your mother, so once she hears those words she is going to speak to EB, on your behalf.  You are safe now; so sleep well.  You will wake in the morning to the taste of chocolate...but the Easter Bunny might make FINDING your basket a little bit trickier this year, in atonement for your lack of faith. Blessings ~ Amycita~

Friday, January 9, 2015


I am a fan of the "Stoney and Bill, with Sara Show," on 97.1 The Ticket. Recently, I caught a broadcast that included contestants participating in a contest which required you to give your very best play-by-play call of a baseball game; an impression or a creation of your own.  Most callers did impressions, but had I more time that morning, I would have called in to share my own take on the game. This would be how I would call it, if attending a game with my husband, Dave:

"It's a beautiful day for a ballgame!  We are about to start the game with the Tigers taking the mound against...well, I am not sure who we are playing against. I WOULD know, if only my husband would have bought me a program like I asked him to, but he said the line was too long and I wouldn't appreciate it anyway. All I know is that the Tigers are playing some team with blue uniforms. Hmmmm....their uniforms are kind of nice, but I like ours better.  Oh, sorry...I digress.
Okay, so our guy is out on the mound and he makes the throw!  It's a...whoa...wait a minute!  That opposing batter is kind of cute!  I wonder who he is.  I don't know what his name is, of course, because Dave failed to buy me that program, but he is very nice looking!
Oops...I wasn't paying attention. Now I am not sure what just happened, but another guy is up to bat.  Our guy throws again and....OH MY GOSH!!!! DAVE, THERE IS THE GUY SELLING HOT DOGS!!  Will you buy me one of those? I don't know what it is about ballpark franks, but for some reason, they taste better than every other hot dog, don't you think?  What?  I AM watching the game, Dave.  I think you are very rude.
Okay, back to the game...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  This game sure is taking a long time.  A bunch of stuff happened, but, since I am so short, when everybody stands up I can't see what is going on. That is very annoying and it always happens to me. I can't ever reach things on the top shelf at the grocery store either.  Sometimes, I actually have to climb up on the shelves to reach stuff. They should do something about that. 
Oh yeah, I forgot about the game and I have no idea what is going on.  Wait... I will ask Dave again.
Dave, I don't appreciate you speaking to me in that tone of voice.  I AM watching the game.  Why is it taking so long though...and what inning is this? I have a lot of stuff to do when I get home and I didn't realize I would be here forever. I know those guys came out with their brooms to sweep, so we must be near the end. This is the top of the ninth?  And the bases are loaded with two men out and this guy has two strikes?  Does that mean we win if we get him out or do we have to bat again?  I hope not, because frankly, I am tired of this game now.  The only fun part was the hot dog. Get it, Dave?  I made a joke....frank-ly and hot dog...did you catch that?  That is SO just have no sense of humor. Why are you so crabby all the time?
Whoa...something just happened, but once again, I can't see what it was because all these inconsiderate people are blocking my view.  Dave...what happened? WE WON???  Wow, that was great!!!  I love baseball!!  Let's do it again, soon!
What??? I resent that Dave. I don't need you to buy me tickets anyway...I can buy my own.
This is Amy, wishing all you other loyal Tiger fans a great day!!" ;)
Blessings ~ Amycita~