Overheard In April 2014

April was a lovely little month. It was the only month since starting this feature that I did not have to omit anything. I did not overhear anything disturbing. And that is a wonderful thing.


I was at the hair salon and a woman in her late fifties had just finished getting her hair done. She was glowing. Her hair was bouncy. And so was she.

As she was exiting the salon I stopped her and said, “You look beautiful. Your hair looks great.”

She smiled widely and reached up in wonder to touch her shiny hair. “Do you think so? I think I really love it. I haven’t done something like this in years. I have horses and I have had a long pony tail for twenty years.”

“This feels so nice.”

We wished each other a good day. Her husband pulled up to pick her up and I could see her excitement as she practically skipped to the car.

It was a nice moment to witness.


I was at the store and a little girl of about three years old was standing next to her mother at the counter. There was a teddy bear being sold above the little girl’s head, it’s fluffy body slouched over near the mother’s arm.

The little girl pointed to the bear.

“Bear?!” She exclaimed.

“Bear!” She said again.

The man checking them out looked down at the little girl and then at the mother and said, “Ha! Does she really want a beer?”

The mother looked confused.

She asked the little girl what she wanted to which the little girl exclaimed, “bear!” She pointed to the obvious stuffed animal next to the oblivious two adults.

“Oh!” They both realized at once.

Then the mother said to the man, “She wants the bear. I’m the one who could use a beer.”

Then the mother and daughter left the store.

Bearless and Beerless.

I know how they feel.


My husband overheard this recently:

“Would you like to be part of the lunch run?”

“No thanks. I grabbed McDonald’s while I was at Walmart buying ammunition.”


My family and I went to Disneyland last week. It was very crowded and we took a moment to people watch. We sat on a bench and enjoyed frozen lemonade in the breezy afternoon.

I wrote down the snippets of conversations I overheard as people quickly made their way by us:

“I want bubbles!”

“I need a piece of paper.”

“LOVE! Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.”

“I don’t feel like eating a lollipop.”

“When I first met Holly, I was super, I don’t know… distracted.”

“Someone needs to go hold hands.”

“You want some banana flavored ice cream?”

“Don’t fall out.”
“Dad! Do it again!”

“It’s basically a liquid churro.”

“Ellie. Not a good choice.”

“Well, this is the happiest place on Earth,” said in the saddest voice.

“Shooting explosion!”

“She got the cricket!”
“Melanie got the cricket in our room!”

“Don’t wrap things around your neck!”

“So… He went to her room and slept.”

“The password is 55622.”


I forgot to include this funny conversation I overheard in the bathroom between two very young intoxicated young women in Las Vegas last month.

“I’ve like never been like one of those girls who has planned their wedding since they were like five.”

“Yea. Me neither.”

“I hope it’s not going to be lame.”

“Will there be alcohol?”


“Oh good!”

“I just like hope it doesn’t rain. And I need to like figure out colors.”

“But will there be an open bar?”


“Oh. Good.”

“I haven’t even like decided what kind of dress I want. What if I like get it too short?”

“Will you be serving booze?”


“Then it will be awesome.”


We were waiting for a table at a restaurant in Disneyland. Next to us was a party of eight also waiting for a table. We were each given a pager that would light up and buzz when our table was ready. The family had never heard of this before.

“I don’t understand. You’re not going to call my name?”

“No. You have a pager. It will go off when your table is ready,”

“Okay.” The lady sat down next to her friend. They both examined the device.

They spoke amongst themselves,

“Is it going off?”

“I think so. Or maybe you’re holding it wrong.”

The friend went up to the hostess, “I think you gave her a broken thingy because nothing is happening and we’re hungry.”

The hostess looked impatient. “That is because your table is not ready yet. Your pager will go off when your table is ready.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“I understand that, but your table is not ready.”

The friend returned to sit with the other despondent woman. They both sat staring at the little black mysterious device.

Five minutes passed. They argued amongst themselves. “Does that flashing light mean the table is ready? Why couldn’t they just call our name? I think the device is broken.”

Finally, they got up, slammed the pager on the hostess counter and pronounced, “I’m not waiting anymore! This thing is broken!”

The hostess watched them walk away. Then she carefully put away eight menus.

They would have been next!

They missed some good food.

And seeing the device, “go off.”

Instead they were the ones who went off and I showed my children that being patient does pay off.


And also that their mommy can make chili cheese fries absolutely anywhere.


Our family was at the gas station and my husband had gone inside to purchase a bottle of water. I was watching the open glass doors to the gas station. I noticed a stocky man with tattoos trailing up his flailing arms. He was having what appeared to be a heated conversation with the gas attendant.

I knew my husband was witnessing the whole thing and I was excited to hear what was going on.

The man exited the gas station and got into a station wagon with a young blonde woman in her twenties. They did not look at each other and appeared to be upset.

When my husband got to our car, I asked him what he had happened.

He said, “that man was just going off on how he didn’t understand women. How his girlfriend had left him and then came back. Then he bought her flowers and she left. Now she came back but moved out. He doesn’t know what she is doing.”

I took all of that in and then told him I saw the happy couple drive away together.

My husband said he assumed that the man was talking to the gas station attendant because they were friends, but when the man left, the gas station attendant said to my husband, “Man. You know you have woman problems when you are telling complete strangers about them.”

My husband said, “You didn’t know that guy?”

And the gas station attendant said, “No. He just came in here and started ranting.”

I used to think hairdressers got all of the dirt. But I am now revising my theory to gas attendant. They must see and hear the craziest things!

Did you overhear anything nice or funny in April? Please share!

If you missed last month’s “Overheard In,” you can find it here.

Disneyland in June


We recently went to Disneyland. Like the forgetful dweebs we are, we forgot to take any pictures (Except for the one lonely graveyard pic from Haunted Mansion). I am so bummed. The kids are getting bigger every day. Growing bigger. Growing older. Growing apart. From us.

Why couldn’t I take a picture?

Here are the highlights I chronicled in my head from the day:

1. Eating at a restaurant in the park, we began speaking to the most wonderful old woman (she was the hostess). Picture a nursery rhyme with an old lady in an apron. You would have this woman. I believe she was even wearing an apron. Her face tried to hide that she had once been beautiful among many lines of gathering folds. But it was still there, in her twinkling crystal blue eyes. Her lips still full, despite time trying to steal them, bit by bit, away.

But it was her hands that interested me. She had the largest hands I had ever seen on a woman. And I began to ponder as she chuckled and spoke in delight, what stories her hands told. She tossed them about, describing her beloved grandchildren. Were they hands that had worked everyday of her life… Until they were so full of pent up energy they might burst?

Was she standing there smiling and laughing, all the while, being in terrible pain from arthritis plaguing her appendages?

Was this the way she was born? Her heritage, along with her curly hair, twinkling eyes, and rich spirit.

I do not know.

But I wonder. I do.

2. At the same restaurant, my nine year old son turned to me and said, “Mom, ten and under.” And he pointed to his kid’s menu.

I laughed and said, “Yes, and that is you.”

He said, “I know, but soon it won’t be.”

Oh, dagger straight to the heart…

So, his kid’s meal comes out. He had ordered the kid’s fried chicken meal. On the plate was one piece of chicken.

All was quiet at the table, when you hear my son who has the vocabulary and soul of an old man say, “This. is. infuriating.”

And he glowered at his lonely piece of chicken.

Which made us all laugh hysterically.

3. Being in the restroom with my daughter, when we both heard a scream.

A woman rushing from the stall dismayed at the self-flushing toilet.

Only to be met at the rows of sinks by her mother, who was fascinated by the magic of faucets and paper towel machines that would turn on without a press of a button or the turn of a knob.

It is rare in this world to witness someone being truly delighted. Seeing someone’s “first.” Someone in awe.


My daughter and I bathed in it.

4. Eating a giant bag of Salt & Vinegar Kettle Chips from my Mary Poppin’s bag of treats and indulging in frozen lemonade as our family sat on a brick wall and people watched.

The icy sweet goodness.

The old Indian couple lounging on a bench in front of us. Her body covered with beautiful silver jewelry. Both wearing traditional Indian clothing. A young Indian family, in jeans, rushing up to them. Carefully handing over hot cups of liquid to their elders. Respectful. Itching to get back and enjoy the rides. The young woman’s braid, thick and luscious trailing down towards the small of her back. Never stopped swinging. The constant motion of motherhood.

5. My children’s smiling faces. Laughing. The outline of my daughter’s profile, as I stared and marveled at the beauty she is becoming. The sun gleaming off of her skin, as we waited in yet, another line.

6. Getting fast passes for Indiana Jones. Watching my daughter’s smiling face, my son’s stoic one.

The ride was over, I asked my son, “So, did you like it?”

“Yes.” He replied, “I didn’t stop grinning the whole time.”

And then he smiled in delight.

7. After Indiana Jones, which was our favorite ride of the day, we followed a family out the exit. The grandmother was faster than us and she used a walking cane. The mother was a smiling pretty woman. She stepped away from her family and I watched what she did next.

She approached a young couple in their late teens standing in the hour long standard line and handed them two extra fast pass tickets that she had in her possession. The thing is, I would never have given those teenagers those tickets. I would have assumed they would have been ungrateful, or, well, “teenagers.”

Those kids beamed at her. They thanked her so profusely.

They ran excitedly to the fast pass line and I watched the woman watching them and smiling to herself.

And I smiled, too. Because she was a better woman than me. And she taught me that I might have a little soul searching to do.

It was another “pure” moment. And my soul drank it in.

8. And tears. Lots of tears. Meltdowns from children in the heat. Begging to go home. A teenage girl crying. Fighting with her mother next to us.

The disappointment on the parents’ and children’s faces as they realized they just were not tall enough to go on the ride they wanted.

And I wanted to scream.

I have been that parent. My children have been those children.

I wish I had known…

“Be grateful! Relish Dumbo, Peter Pan, the carousel. Enjoy the holding of the hands. The sticky fingers. The slobbery kisses.

Because one day, you will be standing in the line that you had coveted and you will see those frustrated parents and children. You will envy the rides they get to go on as you stand and wait for another “fast” one.

Cherish that line that keeps them young. Because there isn’t another one.

That “tall enough” line is the measurement of youth. And it does not go backwards.”

But I don’t.

I remain silent.

And I watch them walk away in disappointment, as I stand there, my heart being the only thing shrinking.

8. Haunted Mansion.

My husband and I holding hands. Our children in a car ahead of us. Us. Kissing in the dark. Ghosts swirling around us.

9. Happiness.

Tired, aching feet.

Tired, happy soul.

Disneyland. Those are the memories I will take from the day. No pictures. Just images in my head.

Balloon Gender Experiment

I try not to genderalize. Is that a word? Hmmmm… Probably not. Not gonna look it up. Lazy. Anyway, I try not to categorize my children into their gender roles. But sometimes… Well, sometimes that is a hard thing to do.

My children both got balloons at Disneyland the other night. My son picked blue. My daughter, pink. You can see where this is going.

Let us take a look at their balloons’ status for the week, shall we:


Day 1



Day 2



Day 3



Day 4



Day 5



Day 6



Day 7

By day 7, both balloons looked relatively the same. Sad. Except, I had some information I had been sitting on. Secret information.

And I am not going to rat anyone out. But, let’s just say, I believe the pink balloon would still be in the air if it had not been pummeled by a Nerf pellet on Day 5. Definitely not coming from a Nerf gun powered by the owner of the blue balloon.

Hey, I didn’t see anything. ; )

Did this ruin my little experiment? Well, no. I think it actually proved… Hmmm… Well, what did it prove? What was my point?

Boys and girls are different.

Wow! Profound. But, you all ready knew that…

I hope you enjoyed my weird and completely unnecessary experiment. At $8 a pop (pun not intended), I figured it would be great if the balloons could have some extra fun.

Have a great day!