Category Archives: Funny to me

A Tuna Butt Walks into a Bar

Otis: Mom, let me see your tuna butt.

Me: My tuna butt?

Otis: (turning me around so he can see my butt) Yes, the tuna butt!

Mark: What is he talking about?

I have no clue. And I know I need to figure it out quickly because if you don’t know what Otis is talking about things get crazy fast.

So I fake it.

Me: The TUNA BUTT!!! OF COURSE!!! (shrug my shoulders at Mark and hope he knows to play along)





I changed the conversation quickly because if it became obvious that I had no clue what a tuna butt was then I’d be in big trouble with the Littlest Boss.

We went on the rest of the night uneventfully. Until bedtime.

Otis: Mom. Where’s the tuna butt?

Oh dear. I really wanted to sleep.


Otis: (speaking slower) Where is the turd in your butt?

Me: Wait. What? The turd? In my butt?

Otis: Yes! The turd in your butt!

Me: (yelling downstairs to Mark) Tuna butt is TURD IN YOUR BUTT!!!!!!!! I FIGURED IT OUT!!!!!!!!!! I’M THE BEST MOM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!!!!!!!

Mark: You two are so weird.

Once I got over the ecstasy of knowing what my kid is talking about, I had lots of questions.

  • Where did he learn about turds?
  • Why is he looking for them?
  • Is this a high level fart joke?
  • Is my kid a comedic genius?

And with that, I’ll end this post with…

TUNA BUTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursdays It Is

Mark and I were having a conversation about Hint, Hint the other day. Because after we became parents we conversate about Hint, Hint rather than, well, Hint, Hinting.

We’re veering dangerously close to becoming that couple that Hint, Hints based on the calendar. Now, listen, I don’t judge those couples at all, but you know how you have those ‘things’ you think you’ll never do or be? I never thought we’d be them, so I offered up a suggestion…

Me: Why don’t you just wake me up when you want to Hint, Hint? (Because part of our issue is that while getting Otis down for bed I always, always, ALWAYS fall asleep)


Me: What? It’s a perfect solution!!!

Mark: Do you know what you’re like when you’re woken up in the middle of the night?

Me: Um? Awesome?

Mark: You’re this weird, angry, delirious drunk.

Me: Take that back. I’m adorable. All day. Erry day.

Mark: Like the other day. You just start asking really demanding questions. “Does my mom need to pick him up? DOES MY MOM NEED TO PICK HIM UP?” And I’m, like, scared. How do I answer her? Does she want an answer? What am I supposed to do?!?

Me: Overruled!

Mark: And that’s not even the weird stuff you say. (Starts impression of just woken up Marie) “The slippery sidewalk! Turn left forty seven eight. The sidewalk! THE SIDEWALK!!! WHERE IS THE BEAR?!???!”


Mark: So, no I will not be waking you up to ask if you want to Hint, Hint.

Me: *Gets out calendar* What do Thursdays look like for you?

This also made me think about this post #ICrackMyselfUp

Ok, Google. Fold the laundry.

(After watching an Amazon Echo commercial)

Me: Do you think this whole “talk to your devices” is going to catch on? I just think it feels weird.

Mark: Yeah, I don’t know. I never use it.

Me: I just feel like a doofus talking to my phone like it’s a person. Like, “Google, should I wear a jacket?”

Mark: Does that work? (starts talking to his phone) Ok, Google. Should I wear a jacket?

Google: It is 46 degrees in Nashville and partly cloudy.

Mark: That was kind of cool.

Me: It was… ask it how old Madonna is.

Mark: Who cares?

Me: Just. Ask.

Mark: Look at all of this cool stuff it can do, though. Like set timers.

Me: Oh, and it can turn on the flashlight! Ok, Google turn on the flashlight. Ok, Google turn off the flashlight. THIS. IS. SO. COOL.

Mark: That is pretty cool.

Otis: Ok, Google. Get me a cookie.

Me & Mark: 

I know you think you “won parenting” because your kid appreciates Blue Skillet Death Metal or knows the difference between grass clippings and broccoli, but I think we all know who the real winner is here…


Nurse: (running into the delivery room) His heart rate is going crazy, what’s going on?
Me: (scared because there’s a baby coming) Ummm. I just rolled over?
Nurse: Let’s move you back… Yeah, that looks like it fixed it. Weird.

This scene happens 3. more. times.

Nurse: So, you’re not moving anymore. It’s like he’s throwing a fit every time you change positions. He probably needs a spanking as soon as he gets here…

And that, my friends, is what they call foreshadowing.


The drama did not end there.

Last month you asked us to put you in the trash bin. Yes, the trash bin where real trash goes. The one the garbage truck picks up. You wanted to be Oscar the Grouch and pretend your house (the trash can) was on fire.

We watched Dick van Dyke’s Bert sweep chimneys for hours on YouTube after you couldn’t get enough of Mary Poppins after watching the play at Lola’s school.

You beg me to “talk for” various inanimate objects, especially mowers and bulldozers. We have pulled over and had conversations with more bulldozers than I care to admit.

The things you’ll do for a laugh? The comedic timing and delivery? That sneaky grin when you know you’ve landed a joke perfectly? Those faces that communicate better than any words possibly could? You, sir, are the Amy Poehler to my Tina Fey #ComedicDuosFTW

From day one you have been my storyteller. You have added theater and emotion and drama and laughter and tears and love to my life. Thank you.

Last night you pulled your final show as a pre-schooler. You used big tear drops and begged for Daddy to come to bed. We all snuggled close and this conversation happened…

Otis: What’s this? (pointing to his nipples)
Mark: That’s your chest.
Otis: No. What’s these? (now pointing definitively at his nipples)
Mark: Those are… nipples.
Otis: What they do?
Me: …
Mark: Nothing. They do nothing.

After a little more giggling and hugging you drifted to sleep. And that was the conversation that ended Four.

Today we woke up to Five.

Allergies. Ugh.



I have no clue what Five holds, but I wonder if that conversation wasn’t just a little more foreshadowing from my favorite little storyteller…






And then we sang

I’m a softie.

Yeah. It’s true. I don’t have an assertive bone in my body.

This means that disciplining Otis has not come naturally to me over the last 4 years.

I realize I’m blowing minds. I’ll give you a  minute to marinate in my truth.

Well, much like high school and college, I have let things slide until the very last minute and now I’m all, “We have got to get this kid under control!” And Mark just looks at me like:

To be fair, my kid is pretty awesome out and about, but when we’re around just family? He thinks he rules the roost.

So I’ve taken up giving him The Look when he starts acting a fool.

One of my first attempts at using The Look did not have the results I was expecting.

Me: Otis, I’m going to need you to stop that.

Otis: (Does that again.)


Otis: Mommy, you mad?

(You guys. I write and giphy search at the same time. I rarely see a gif and write a post around it. So I just searched “you mad” and this goodness came up and I’m like, “And you say there’s no God?”)

Well, now I want to giggle because I’m an Olympic Gold Winning Giggler #truestory, but I also want a child that doesn’t end up in jail, so I stay strong.


Otis: Mommy. Are. You. Mad?

Crap. He just used all the words in a sentence. I want to cheer. I want to celebrate. He used “are”! But I must resist. And I fully engage the most lookiest Look I can muster.


My kid is unphased. He repeats his question a few more times. And then he realizes something. This question, “Mommy, are you mad?” It should be a song.


And the song isn’t even something cute and sing-songy. He busts out his operatic voice and is like,  “Mommy are you MAAAADDDDDDD??” Taking the “mad” real deep like he’s in Phantom of the Fooling Opera.


And, just like my first semester of engineering Chemistry my freshman year at Tennessee Tech, I waited too long and failed miserably.

Chuck E. Cheese and a Sibling Celebration

You guys know that Otis loves him some Chuck E. Cheese, right?

Oh, you didn’t?


That’s Otis after Chuck E. makes his appearance at some rando’s birthday party. Check out the video of this delightful moment here.

And then you know that Mark and I have been having THE conversation for approximately 5 years, right? The one about the sibling situation? You know which conversation I’m talking about… that conversation.

Well, we have some exciting news to announce!!!

That’s right!!!


We’re helping Chuck E. Cheese raise money for Big Brothers Big Sisters on March 31st!!

As a kick off to Chuck E. Cheese’s month long national donation drive in April, they are hosting a fundraising night on Thursday, March 31st from 3pm-9pm and anyone who mentions BBBS will have 15% of their sale donated back to Big Brothers Big Sisters! Big Brothers Big Sisters is an incredible organization and the money CEC raises will help them match volunteers with children. For the entire month of April you can donate $1, $5 or any amount of their choice to BBBS and celebrate by pinning your name up for contributing.

We will be at the Hickory Hollow location that Thursday doing the Chuck E. Cheese dance because we know it. And we do it. ALL. THE. TIME. (Thanks, YouTube.)


Share a video of your kid(s) yelling for Chuck E. or a pic of your kid at CEC or just a selfie of you tired and wishing you could just take them to CEC so you could browse Instagram in peace on Instagram and tag me (@marieoates) and Chuck E. Cheese (@chuckecheese) in it and you’ll be entered to win a guest pass (1 large pizza, 4 drinks, and 30 tokens) PLUS 1,000 tickets. Do you know how many rubber dinosaurs you can get with 1,000 tickets? ALL THE RUBBER DINOSAURS.

Share your pic by noon on March 23rd to be eligible to win. I’ll announce a winner on Thursday, March 24th!

Play because it’s fun and it proves you love your kids and want to take them to fun places where a kid can be a… wait for it… kid!

Also, if you’re looking for fundraising opportunities I’d totally check out working with Chuck E. Cheese and friends!

How to Lose Your Keys in 7 Easy Steps

Step 1
Drive places using your keys. Unlock doors using your keys. Be completely ungrateful for the power and freedom your keys provide you.

Step 2
Get home. Put your keys down BUT NEVER IN THE SAME PLACE. Bonus points if you can put your keys down in completely ridiculous places like in your kid’s bucket of legos, under the couch cushion, on top of the dryer.

Step 3
See your keys in ridiculous place. Leave them there and make a mental note to remember in the morning. After you’ve slept.

Step 4
You’re going to be late for that thing you’re always late for because you think it takes 15 minutes to get everywhere in Nashville. This has nothing to do with keys. Just a fact.

Step 5
Panic! Your keys! They are gone! You’re going to be late!

Step 6
Tear up the house looking for keys and get mad that other people (specifically your husband) exist #logic

Step 7
Find keys because prayer works and vow to put them on the table next to the door like your husband that never loses anything does.

Repeat. Every day. For the rest of your life.

Bedtime with Otis

Bedtime with Otis is my favorite, and this is my scrapbook of memories so…

Me: Sweet dreams.

Otis: Sweet dreams.

Me: Good night, sleep tight.

Otis: Good night.

Me: Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Otis: Huh?!?!


Back in the day Otis would fall asleep holding on to my neck. Kinda like this:

He would hold me like I was his toy. This is probably not the worst description of our relationship’s dynamic, but that’s neither here nor there.

As he drifted to sleep he would whisper, “Hold you, Mommy. Hold you.” And he’d wrap his chubby little arms completely around my neck and start snoring.

It was bliss.

Lately he’s been giving me different orders.

He rolls to his side facing the other wall, and I’ll hug and kiss him as he giggles. (Mark accuses me of “riling him up” with this activity. I call it “loving our child properly.” #tomato #potato) Then Otis gets tired and, politely, but firmly, whispers, “Turn around, Mommy. Go to sleep, Mommy.”

Oh. Ok. Well, I’ll be right over here then…


My favorite bedtime activity is asking him who he wants to pray for that night. Some of his more humorous suggestions include:

  • Santa Claus
  • Caillou’s mom
  • Bobby’s wife (I prayed for her and then Otis ended with, “Where are you?????”)


The other night, out of nowhere, he curls into me and wraps his arms around my neck like old times. He’s so big now. But he still fits. The Scientific Journal of Motherhood suggests he’ll always fit.

He snuggles in real close and whispers in my ear, “This is perfect.”

Yes, Little Bear. This is perfect.

Let me out!

“I am not excited about this at all.” – Me on the way to The Escape Game Nashville

I said that because I wasn’t excited. At all. AND nobody wanted to try my ‘local lunch’ suggestion (have y’all been to Wendy’s? To. die. for.) so this was sure to be a bust of an afternoon.

Have you heard of The Escape Game? It’s horrible. They lock you in a room and tell you to start finding clues so that you can get out. Yeah, ask Kimmy Schmidt how much fun that is.

Anyways, my friends are nerds so there I was locked in a room with 6 other people trying to find a key. Or a code. Or mumbling, “This isn’t funny. Let me out.”

There really isn’t anything else to say about the experience because if you go I don’t want to accidentally give anyone a clue. So I’ll just explain what I learned about myself during the process:

  • I don’t like thinking.
    If an answer doesn’t appear to me in the first 4 seconds I don’t know it. I know I don’t know it. I give up. Uncle! I’m out. If there was a transcript of our Escape Game experience it would look like this:
    Me: Do y’all wanna buzz for a clue?
    Shelly: We just got started.
    Rebecca: Yeah, I think we can hold out for a little bit.
    Me: Ok…
    (45 seconds later)
    Me: What about now?
    Sarah: I’m gonna murder you.
    Laura: Leave her be. We don’t have time for murder.
  • What do I do with my hands?

    Everyone that cared about solving the puzzles would race around the room to ‘help.’ People manned the various locks and punch pads around the room ready to put in codes that other people were figuring out. I had no clue how to help so most of the time I was rummaging through things that I knew were empty or doing things that were completely unhelpful just so I looked like I cared. But the reality was I DIDN’T WANT TO BE THERE AND WHY AREN’T WE ASKING FOR MORE CLUES?!?!
  • The Dungeon Master had a crush on someone.
    I keep talking about getting more clues, but the reality is we got a LOT of free clues. Like, every time we’d get stuck a clue would pop up. The first couple of clues were real ‘clues,’ like they pointed you in the general vicinity of the next step. By the end they were like, “Ok, add that together. Now divide by 4. What do you get???”  “7. The answer is seven.” “Girl in the red shirt. Turn around. The answer is behind you. BEHIND YOU!”

    I don’t know who the Dungeon Master wanted to get with, but thank you for your fleekness.

  • It only takes one good moment to make me fall madly in love.
    Like, I said I was ready to give up around the time I got into Laura’s minivan. And most of the time I bumbled around like a sad idiot. But then my moment of glory happened. It was near the end of the game, we only had minutes on the clock, and we were stuck. “Hang it up, boys, it’s over” stuck. But then brilliance struck AND IT CHOSE ME!

    I swear that when I gave the answer to the near final clue everyone turned around in slow motion with the most “Did she really get it?! #Wut?” But the #wtf looks quickly turned to celebration because RUDY HAD SCORED! Or at least participated! Woohoo!

All things considered (and most of that consideration weighed by the game-winning Hail Mary field goal), it was actually kind of fun. And I might be asking every person I meet for the next week if they’ve played and if they want to play.

The best part? I have the memory of goldfish, so I could probably play the Heist over and over and over…



Project Runway: Otis & Lola Halloween Costume Edition


My mom was not that into Halloween when I was growing up. I mean, we got costumes and went trick or treating, but it wasn’t like she was trying to make sure her kids had the Best Costume Evah. Like most kids my age, we had costumes like this on Halloween:

Nothing homemade or particularly adorable. Just enough to look like we tried and deserved the free candy we walked DOOR-TO-DOOR to get (#btw, what is this trunk-or-treat nonsense?)

And then my mom got a grandbaby. And this costume thing? It’s a thing now. And she has opinions.

2011 – The Cheeseburger:


I don’t know how we got this costume. I can’t imagine I bought it. Did someone give it to me? I think they did. Anyways, this was not funny in my mom’s book.

Lola Commentary – “Marie. This is not cute. He should have been a pumpkin. Pumpkins are cute.”

2012 – Superbaby:


She was so disappointed in the 2011 costume that she got him this Superman costume. I will admit that she was right and he looked adorable.

Lola Commentary – “See, Marie. When you try things work out.”

2013 – Handy Manny…ish:


I think she thought she proved her point in 2012 and that I was ready to be a ‘good mom’ the next year, no help required. Wrong! I did what I do. I came up with a great idea (“Otis would make a great Handy Manny!”) and then suffered in the execution (“Crap. Halloween’s tonight. This mostly green shirt and kinda similar hat should be good enough…”).

Lola Commentary – “What is DCS’s number? This is unacceptable, Marie.”

2014 – Fireman:

This year had potential, but my poor baby couldn’t really move his arms because that’s a 2T costume on a 3T kid. #ChubbyBabyInALittleCoat

Lola Commentary – “So cute! What do you mean it was too small? What do you mean it was the only size they had? What do you mean you didn’t buy it until today? You know when Halloween is, right? Every year it’s the same day. I give up. If you don’t want to obey that’s your problem. You know what God does when we don’t obey? Pray about this, Marie. You have a problem.”

2015 – Fireman Part 2:


It fits. It was purchased IN SEPTEMBER. It is something he actually wanted to be.

Lola Commentary – “Don’t you feel better? You can breathe. There’s no stress. And he looks so cute. And so happy. Don’t you like it when he’s happy, Marie? Make your son happy. And your mom. And Jesus. Mostly Jesus.”

So get a real costume, y’all. It matters to Jesus.