Not This Time Autocorrect

One of my guilty pleasures (well, maybe not so guilty) is Googling autocorrect fails. Yesterday I almost had my own.

I was answering a question about off-street parking to a potential renter when somehow this is what I typed …


Fortunately I glanced at what I wrote because can you imagine? Naturally I had to share it with friends.


The great irony is that of all the people to send that gaff, no one is more likely to write something like that on purpose. Regard, yesterday’s cat stalking activity.

I was definitely reaching for his off-street penis.

I picked up the kids from camp this morning. One of parenting’s greatest joys is when you see them after some kind of separation, be it a few minutes when they are toddlers, a school day when they are in kindergarten, or in today’s case, after a couple of weeks at camp.



My number one hope was that they would love camp and had a great time. That seems to be the final analysis about their time away. I didn’t want to hear that they missed me (they didn’t) I hoped they weren’t homesick (they weren’t) but I also dearly hoped they would be happy to see me. They were.


I wasn’t going to try to take a picture of them at camp so here’s a happy dog. It has all his fur so no, it isn’t Scheissehund.

I made sure I was at camp when the gates opened and the look on their faces when they saw me was priceless. I really missed those kids.

I spent my last couple of days sans children cleaning up the house (I let it go to seed while they were gone) and another old friend of Loony’s came to town with his family and stayed with us. Incidentally they knew each other from the Unitarian camp they went to year after year.

We indulged in walks on the mall to get milk shakes, a dinner of chips and queso, and cheap margaritas at Illegal Pete’s, a completely baffling film (High-Rise, thanks Nitro … not), and a level of spontaneity we haven’t experienced in years.



To be fair to my kids, they never hold us back. They are great at watching themselves and not getting into trouble but there is something about not having to do the prep work/calculus  that goes into leaving the kids for an evening out (is there food in the house, how many family dinners have we had this week, have we gone out recently without them, is it a school night, etc.) that is very liberating.

It won’t be long until none of that will matter anymore so I’m not hurrying it, but I enjoyed it and I will enjoy it next year because the kids already told me that they want to go next year. WOOT!

I feel like I should have more stories of stupid shit I did but I’m coming up dry. It’s probably time to switch the loads of camp laundry (I swear they came back with 50% less stuff) and get ready to visit our friend’s Great Dane puppy. While I don’t want one of my own (a Great Dane that is) I am definitely going to french that baby.



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