Skip to main content

Unexpected Humor

I have been awake for several hours searching for a local story to write about this morning. So perhaps a bit of punchiness had set in when I saw this tweet from a Howard County business:


Wait a minute. Am I the only person that is seeing a suggestion to slip the kids a little something in order to get Date Night underway? Yes, friends, that bedtime cup of warm milk can be the ticket to Dreamland with these exclusive deals from area merchants...

You'll be out the door in a flash. Your babysitter will be amazed. No popping out of bed for glasses of water. Just a restful evening of Netflix for her and an uninterrupted night on the town for you.

Ha.

Actually, the accompanying photo tells a different story.




Date Night apparently means alcoholic beverages on the couch. Silly me. What was I thinking? No babysitter, no worries about who will be the designated driver. No expensive tickets for concerts, theater, movies. With parents working multiple jobs, feeling exhausted all the time, while trying to stretch every penny farther, a glass of red on the big comfy couch is about the best Date Night many folks will get.

If you can get through the night without rolling over on a loud singing toy or stepping on a Lego, that's a win-win for everyone.

I see a possibility for a marketing opportunity here. Any local companies selling couches need to get in on this. Imagine the improvements to Date Night and overall quality of life if you invest in a Really Nice Couch. Long enough to stretch out on. Wide enough for two people to cuddle.

What am I saying? Nice couch? Kids?

Just download the app already.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Teacher Gifts

Today is the last day of school before the Winter Break. It’s a good time to remember the far-reaching nature of our public school system. You may not have children. You may have sent your children to independent schools. It matters not. You will be impacted one way or another. Yesterday I read a long thread on Facebook about several waves of illness in the schools right now. There’s influenza A and norovirus, I believe. And of course there’s COVID. Apparently in some individual schools the rate of illness is high enough for school admin to notify parents.  When I was little the acceptable holiday gift for a teacher was one of those lovely floral handkerchief squares. (I don’t know what it was for male teachers. They were rare in my elementary years.) These days the range of teacher gifts is wider and I have fond memories of Target gift cards which I have written about before. I think it’s safe to say that giving one’s teacher Influenza, norovirus, or COVID is not the ideal holiday...

They Can Wait

This is not a typical Saturday post. That’s because, in my community, it’s not a typical Saturday.  Oakland Mills High School, after years of deferred repair, needs massive renovation. It’s pretty simple: when you don’t fix a problem it gets bigger. The school system itself said the the OMHS school building was  "no longer conducive to learning" back in 2018.  2018 .  But Thursday the Boad of Education voted to push it out of the lineup of important projects which will be given the go-ahead to proceed soonest.  In my opinion it’s a terrible decision and sets a dangerous precedent. To explain, here’s the advocacy letter I sent in support of Oakland Mills High School. I was rather proud of it. I am writing to ask you to proceed with needed renovation at Oakland Mills High School in the most timely and comprehensive manner humanly possible. I have read the letter sent to you by the Oakland Mills Community Association and I am in complete agreement. You are extremel...

Columbia Chance Connection

  Last night, as my husband and I were about to sit down to dinner, our front door swung open and a cheery voice announced, “I’m ba—ack!”  We weren’t expecting anyone. Clearly the only people who’d walk right in to our house would be one of our offspring. I had my reading glasses on so I wasn’t seeing too clearly. It seemed too tall for our youngest, but we knew our eldest was at work. I took off my glasses to see a friendly but confused face scanning our living room. When her gaze landed on us we all had a sudden realization. We didn’t know eachother. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m in the wrong house! My daughter just moved in and she needed hooks for the kitchen so I ran out to get them.” She waved the package. “All these houses look the same and I don’t know the neighborhood yet. I thought this was my daughter’s house.” We were all getting a bit giggly. “That’s okay. For a quick second we thought you were our daughter,” said my husband. I told her our names and said she should defin...