Smoothies!
As you know, two weeks ago, Mouthy Housewives Kelcey, Marinka and Wendi were at BlogHer. But just because they were relaxing and partying at BlogHer, doesn’t mean that they left their culinary skills behind. Take a look!
And please check out the 8th Continent Soymilk Nice Job, Mom contest here. Look through the entries of the very relatable parenting mishaps, and submit your own! You could win a room makeover! Or a fancy trip! What’s not to love?
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Help, My Daughter is Freakishly Hairy!
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My ten-year-old daughter is tall and gorgeous with lovely olive skin and glowing green eyes. She’s also freakishly hairy. There is hair e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. Her armpits, her legs, her fou-fou girly bits. Everywhere. What’s the best way to napalm this hair situation without making her feel self-conscious about it? I also don’t want to have to shave her daily to keep it at bay. But I can’t get an arm wax for my ten year old for goodness sake. Help!
Signed,
The Mother of Sasquatch
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Dear Mother of Sasquatch,
Hello, long lost relative! I’m so excited to find you! I, too, am tall, gorgeous with lovely olive skin and glowing green eyes. Did I also mention that I have black hair? I do, a LOT of it. Lots and lots of extra thick, curly, black hair.
I’ve been this way since the tender age of ten, just like your daughter. Wait, let me take that back. I was actually born hairy and my mother loves to regale people with the story of my hairy baby back. (That’s okay, when she’s old and decrepit, I’ll enjoy regaling everyone with the stories of playing hide-and-seek with her dentures.)
It was around age 10 that I became self-conscious of my Sasquatch heritage. Fourth grade turdhead boys began teasing me over my hairy arms and legs. It was horrible because I was just coming to an age where I began to care what boys thought, and there they were, making fun of something I couldn’t control.
In a torrent of tears, I begged my mother to allow me to shave, but she was torn. Fourth grade seemed awfully young to begin shaving and she said we couldn’t afford a new weed whacker. I persisted! I really wanted Ricky to be my boyfriend and no one, not even a cute boy with white trash parents, was going to ask a Planet of the Apes reject to be their girlfriend.
My mother relented and I am so glad she did. If your daughter is bothered by her hairiness, I suggest you do the same. And none of this “shave her daily” talk, as if you would do it for her. While I know teenage GPS implantations are just around the helicopter parenting corner, some of us parents have to keep the sanity for the rest of society. Instruct your daughter in the womanly art of shaving and, if she’s as motivated as I was at that age, she’ll be shaving independently in no time.
Signed,
Heather, TMH
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You’ve Got Rude Mail
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My friend sends very curt emails. When she asks me to do something, she never says “please” and “thank you.” Do I say something (and if so, what?) or just let it go. Am I over-sensitive?
Signed,
Magic Word Marge
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Dear Marge,
It often can be very difficult to figure out the tone and meaning of an email. I once had a boyfriend who emailed, “We both really need a break.” I was half way through planning our itinerary to Southern Italy so we could get a break from work and go on holiday together when it suddenly occurred to me that he might mean a break from me. Turns out, he was totally into the idea of going to Southern Italy. He just preferred to do it with some brunette he met at work.
Sometimes we read emails the wrong way. You might think your friend’s emails are rude and she may just be quickly typing something out on her Blackberry. I promise you that she has no idea she’s offending you. Many of us take shortcuts while typing on our cell phones in an effort to avoid crippling finger pain and the words “Thank you” might be 8 letters too many for your friend.
I’m not sure what she’s asking of you in these emails. If it’s, “Can you pick up some wine on your way to the party?” I might let the “please” and “thank you” thing go. If it’s, “Can you take care of my 5 children for the long weekend?” I would demand some manners.
If it’s really bothering you, send her an email about it but try to soften the tone with one of those completely overused, totally annoying smiley faces. Like, “Hey girl, I’m happy to return your library books for you but I’d love to hear the magic word. 
That sort of thing.
Good luck to you!
Signed,
Kelcey, TMH
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A Match Made In (Something Slightly South Of) Heaven
hello mouth housewife,
my name is juliet. i am a lady
i saw your profile today on this dating site and became interested in you so i will like us to be friend,
please send your email address to my box so that i will send my picture to you and tell you more about me. i wait your email.
thanks.
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Dear Juliet,
Wow—what an exciting email to receive! We were just so completely flattered and thrilled when we saw this land in our Mouthy Housewives mailbox. After all, it’s not every day that we have someone tell us that they’d like us to be friend. You are just such a sweetheart, Juliet A Lady! Such a (grammatically challenged and possibly a little slow) sweetheart!
Now, we have to admit that we’re a tad confused as which dating site had our glamorous profile listed. Was it Swifferbitches.com? HotCougarMuffinTops.com? Or our old standby Guns-n-Ammo.com?
Sorry to ask, but it’s really hard for us to keep track of how many online identities we create in a single day. Why, Heather and Marinka have been working non-stop all summer long to make sure we haven’t missed even a single Latin Americans Over 80 dating website. (Next up: China and the Canary Islands!)
Anyway, per your request, we will most certainly send an email to “your box” as soon as we can. We can’t wait to see your picture and exact measurements and oddly shaped birthmarks and…what’s that? Sorry, Juliet, but Kelcey just stomped into the Mouthy Housewives HQ to give me a little folded note. Probably something about how cute I look in these espadrilles today, but—oh, no. Oh, f*ck. Hold the phone, babe. It seems that Kelcey and the rest of the Housewives all figured out “a long ass time ago” that your email was…SPAM. Dear Lord. SPAM! Well, color me red in the face, Juliet! You don’t want to be friend after all, you just want to trick us into some sort of nefarious internet dealings wherein we lose our homes and have to live in an un-airconditioned box under the freeway! Thanks a lot, you lower case loser! Thanks a LOT!
So consider this your good-bye, Juliet A Lady. We wish it could have worked out between us, but it seems that the Mouthy Housewives are far too savvy to fall for silly scams like yours. Far. Too. Savvy!
And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for the party we’re throwing tonight for a Nigerian Prince. We think he’s just going to love it!
Sincerely,
Wendi, TMH
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Is That Your Perfume, Or Are We Being Fumigated?
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
Help! My roommate wears too much perfume. She is a lovely woman but she wears a ton of cheap perfume each day. She sprays it on in one end of our house and I can smell it upstairs at the opposite end before she’s even done spraying. It makes me want to gag and I have a hard time catching my breath. It’s a terrible way to start my day. I have been leaving all the windows open in the house to air it out but that isn’t gonna fly in our fast-approaching northern winter. What can I say to get her to ditch the perfume?
Signed,
Must You Marinate In It?
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Dear Marinate,
Oh, I’ve been there. Where your roommate is, I mean. I’d spray a gallon or two of the finest that Walgreen’s had to offer, and suddenly everyone within gagging distance would be wrinkling their noses and feigning fainting spells. So unnecessary when a simple, “nothing personal, but your perfume is making me sick!” will do the trick nicely.
I know that it’s popular to lie and say that you are allergic to her scent, and if you need that crutch, then by all means. But I think that there are others in her life who suffer along with you, and since you’re the first point of contact, you should take one for the team and just let her know. If you feel like you can’t be blunt and tell her, “you’re putting on way too much perfume on and it’s suffocating me,” I suggest that you engage her in a riveting round of Guess What I Find Annoying About You? After she submits one insecurity after another for your consideration, surprise her with “it’s your perfume!” She’s guaranteed to be relieved that it’s just that an not the fact that she’s a whore with daddy issues or her cankles.
Happy breathing!
Marinka, TMH
