BERNTHIS.COM

Desperation breeds inspiration or utter stupidity, you decide.

Today, I read that there are six people available for every job out there.  Of those jobs, I am right for pretty much none of them. 

That being said, I decided to open my business whereby:

For $65.00 an hour, I will work out FOR YOU.

For, $95.00 an hour, I will remind your husband over and and over again to put his clothes in the hamper and to just be happy there is a woman out there still willing to sleep with him for no money.

For $100.00 dollars an hour I will sit with your child during his meals and tell him:

1. Just eat five more bites

2. No, you're not done yet

3. You need to eat at least four of your carrots

4. No, you can't have a popcicle

For an additional $50.00 an hour I will get up and:

Get them water. Then when they cry they actually wanted juice, I will get them their juice whereupon I will replace the fork they dropped and I will get them a spoon which they NEED to eat their rice, you know, the one with the red handle, and when I'm just about to hand it to them will return for the one with the yellow handle they insist they must have.  I will fetch them the pink cup, no, the green one with the firetruck on it and okay fine, the purple one it is.

I will tell them to chew with their mouth closed, stop hitting their sibling, tell me about their day later and laugh at everything they say even though I have no clue what exactly I'm laughing at. I will pick their peas, their ham, their bread, their spaghetti, their green beans off the floor. I will remind them that just yesterday they said they liked broccoli, tofu, hot dogs WITH ketchup and cheese on their hamburger and yet will replace each item with something they will agree to eat instead.

I will cut off their crusts, the yucky skin, the black stuff, the brown stuff, the green stuff, the red. I will blow on their food, warm it up in the microwave, cut it up and tell them how what a good child they are for eating the beans, the tomatoes, the cucumbers, the chicken, the steak, the fish, their potato.

When the meal is complete I will put all the dishes away and if for some reason that is not enough for you:

For $500.00 I will return at bed time to cuddle with them, get them their water, get them their water but with ice inside, with two cubes, three cubes, take away the balloon from Trader Joes, the deflated one from a party they went to three weeks earlier, explain the downside of swallowing something rubber in their sleep, while awake, in the midst of playing, take a way their favorite rock, crystal, plastic piece of crap ie: sparkly, glittery ball, repeat information with regard to choking, sit there in there in the dark, think about how did my life come to this and then continue to remain there until the child is completely unconscious.

Deal? I know, tempting but yeah, I got it, no. 

They Sounded Like Good Ideas at the Time

If there is one thing I'm an expert on, it's relationships.  I'm telling you, I'm just like Ann Landers, except she did her job and THEN she started drinking.

If you're having a problem with your significant other, for the love of God, click here

No, you di-an't......

Tonight I got a telemarketing call at 9pm. I thought this was totally inappropriate as the baby had finally fallen asleep, or so I told her the lady on the phone.

Okay, I know there is no real baby living in my home, but sometimes, I definitely act like one so if you want to split hairs fine, but for all intents and purposes, I am a baby and although I was not yet in bed or even in my pajamas, I was very tired and you have to admit that that is the equivalent of sleeping but again if you want to get picky, then fine but as far as I was concerned this woman had the nerve to call me at 9pm on a weeknight and wake the baby.

I put myself on a "do not call" list at least three years ago. So, I told this woman as much and then I told her that in about six seconds I was going to start cursing because that's what I do when I'm really annoyed although I admit a tendency to also do it when I'm happy, sad, constipated, frightened, elated, anxious, depressed and most of all in the mood for a Kit Kat bar but still I thought that was pretty nice of me to warn her of what was coming, don't you? 

Anyway, before I let the "f" bombs fly, I suddenly remembered one time when my dad told a telemarketer he, my dad, sold life insurance (he doesn't) and the only way he would listen is if the guy promised to let my dad try to convince him to buy a policy.

Genius. So, I then told this woman, that I was very depressed and would only talk to her if I could share with her everything that I felt was wrong with my life but that she would have to give me her home phone number because I tended to express myself best at 7am on Saturday mornings.

She told me she wasn't a therapist and I told her I had no need for whatever the she was selling at 9pm on a weeknight and the next thing I know she hung up on me.

Nice huh? Anyway, I gotta go, the baby is crying because she just realized there are no leftovers from dinner because she can't cook and went out for dinner instead.

I need to lower my expectations

Phoebe lost her third tooth. I, aka: the tooth fairy, gave her three bucks for it.  When I walked into her room the next morning here is how I expected the conversation to go:

JESSICA: Good morning.

PHOEBE:  Hi mommy.

JESSICA: Did the tooth fairy come?

Phoebe reaches under her pillow and pulls out three dollar bills. A big smile breaks out on her face.

PHOEBE Look Mom, I GOT THREE DOLLARS FROM THE TOOTH FAIRY!

JESSICA: Wow. How about that?! 

Phoebe runs over and hugs me.

PHOEBE: I love you.

JESSICA:  I love you too.

INSTEAD this was the actual conversation:

JESSICA:  Good morning. 

PHOEBE: Ahhhhh, (stretching) I'm too tired.

JESSICA: Did the tooth fairy come?

Phoebe reaches under her pillow and pulls out three one dollar bills.

silence.

JESSICA: What's wrong?

PHOEBE: Nothing.

JESSICA: You got three whole dollars!

Phoebe:  I know.

JESSICA: Why are you so disappointed?

PHOEBE: Cause I like the money with the five in the corners better.

I hope she likes pennies cause that is what she's getting next time but don't worry, she'll be okay because I plan on giving her FIVE of them.

LA CHAIM

You don't have to be Jewish to understand this video

Next Time We're Going to the Valley

I went to a pumpkin patch in Beverly Hills the other day. It was just like your average patch, you know, pumpkins everywhere, a pen for the paparazzi, signs all over the place warning people that taking pictures of someone without their express permission was illegal, you know, just like  you'd see at a pumpkin patch anywhere else.

The paparazzi pen was right by the front door and the minute we walked in and saw the all the cameras I yelled out:

JESSICA: Okay, everyone,  I'm here. Let's just get this over with.

to which they responded:

Nothing. Crickets. It was so quiet I could hear the plaque forming on my teeth.

Truth is, this wasn't the first time I"ve tried out this incredibly not funny line.  I'm not sure what it was about the vacant stares that I got the other five times that lead me to believe that the sixth recitation would be a charm but I can promise you that line now rests in a coffin along with my entire stand up act.

It cost ten bucks to decorate two pumpkins and a dollar every time your child wanted to go down the blow up slide.  Phoebe loves the slide and could ride it for hours. I wanted to tell her that for this reason alone it would be cheaper to BUY the f**ing thing but I knew she wouldn't understand so I felt the best solution was to just tell her:

JESSICA: No.

Now, can I just say tell you how much I love that word? I can spell it, it takes almost no energy to say it and the money I have saved every time I've used it is ridiculous.  It's like a coupon that never expires. The thing is, when I do say it, my daughter will sometimes refuse to talk to me which, when I wrote this line, I thought was a bad thing but now that I've reread it, I realize it really needs to go under the plus category because when she's not talking, I'm not spending.

Besides, I did stand up for nine years and had not but five minutes earlier "bombed" yet again, so a six year old refusing to talk to me because I didn't want to cash in my IRA to give her some slide time is pretty low on my list of things that make me feel badly enough to go take a xanax and then spend the entire day wishing that it was not only non addictive but good for you.

In my world, as long as she responds when I say, "bring your dishes to the sink, make your bed or go upstairs and see if we have any toilet paper left and if we do bring a couple of rolls downstairs", I'm fine.

Could someone please find the wire that connects my brain to my mouth

SCENE: NIGHT

Elderly patient's room in the hospital where I volunteer.

JESSICA:  So what brings you to us tonight?

PATIENT:  I had a lung transplant.

JESSICA: Wow. Donated or from a cadaver?

PATIENT:  Well, from a cadaver of course. 

JESSICA:  Right. Person can't live off one lung can they? 

PATIENT: Are you treating me?

JESSICA: Oh, I'm just a volunteer.

PATIENT: No offense but, good for me.

Terrified of Adolescence AKA I Rode the Bull

I'm over here.  I honestly think this is the most vulnerable I've been in a while.

More Like a "Snow" Job

There is an article out today saying that women who swallow after a round of fellatio (that is a blow job to any of you who might not be familiar with the formal vernacular) have a reduced risk of getting breast cancer than those women who spit it out or request their partner yell, "Incoming!" before it even gets to that point. 

Just to make it sound more legitimate, they got some woman named Helena to put it out there that giving a blow job everyday is way healthier than say eating an apple or even jogging.  I'm guessing they got a woman to say this as they expected had those quoted been all men there would have been an uprising from women all over the country who didn't have enough to fill their days already without their husbands hounding them night after night for a blow job claiming it was only because they wanted to see their wives live forever. 

In retaliation response, I have now decided to hire a few scientists of my own to prove that babysitting for the kids while mom goes out with her girlfriends, doing the laundry and making family dinners that are both nutritious AND tasty will greatly increase  the chances that a man will get to watch free porn for the rest of his life AND yes, even get a blow job now and then (however, I would highly recommend to any guy that the next time you find yourself in that "position" turn the alarm clock around because you don't want her to see exactly how much time she's spending making you happy and NOT watching Project Runway.) 

The only problem is, I'm a little short on cash at the moment, so if ant of you are interested in donating, please just let me know.

I can't wait to be a senior...citizen

When I was in junior high, I was very unpopular to say the least.  When I went to my tenth year reunion, one of the mean girls walked up to me and said:

MEAN GIRL: Oh my God, you are so skinny. Oh and I saw you on TV.

I remember turning to my then husband and telling him:

JESSICA:  Okay, we can go now.

to which he responded:

MY HUSBAND: But we already overpaid for dinner.

Later in the night, just to show you how nothing changes, I remember sitting at a table that was half empty, with my husband, this one girl whose dad went to jail for tax evasion, a mutual friend of ours and two other people I did not know.  At one point, someone came up, stood behind one of the empty chairs and asked:

PERSON: Is this taken?

I was so excited that someone actually wanted to join us, I nearly peed on myself and began, frantically, telling her,

JESSICA: Oh, no, no. It's all yours. Have a seat. Please. Join us.

to which she responded:

PERSON: Great, thanks

whereupon she then proceeded to take said chair and bring it over to another table overflowing with people. 

I tell you this as I sit here, 16 years later, wearing pajamas that I have been in since 7pm tonight. I will now stop typing and go sit on my bed and do my third 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle while watching Law & Order on my TIVO.  I will then brush my teeth and before I go to sleep, I will head into the dining room to take a look at two other 1000 piece puzzles that I was going to glue together, so I could frame them and put them on my walls, until this morning when a friend asked me:

FRIEND: You're going to hang jigsaw puzzles up around your house?

JESSICA: Yeah.

FRIEND: Wow. I'm sorry, how old are you?

JESSICA: What? What's wrong with that?

FRIEND: Well, you say you're lonely and you want to meet a guy but if one walks in your house and sees a jigsaw puzzles of a cat in a sweatsuit or whatever the hell it is, hanging on your wall, I'm pretty sure it'll be game over.

Like I said, nothing changes.