Really I'm OK people. Really.

OK I've received a few e-mails from folks worried about me after the Pringles post.

I just want to say I'm 100% Ok. Like way OK. As in way off the deep end OK.

You would be too if you were 10 months pregnant and on bedrest and waiting on your ever-expanding ass for the big c-section day. Which is Monday thank Baby Jeezus.

Thanks for your concern y'all.
:-)

M-Dub

The Craving: Ode On A Tall Red Can

Oh Mr. Pringles
You big smiling potato head on a tall red can.
Not a big chip fan in my youth,
I looked upon your fair crispy countenance with skepticism,
My sweets-biased disdain apparent as I reached for other tasty treats along the path to adulthood.
You were patient.

But Mr. Pringles,
There you were on a miniature tall red can
Somewhere on the Amalfi Coast
From the back of a minibar your mustachioed potato head beckoned,
Pringles and Pelligrino - a suprisingly satifying honeymoon treat each afternoon with a revelation - Chips Taste Better In Italy.
(indeed everything tastes better in Italy)

Then Mr. Pringles,
Back in the States your tall red can
Ostracized, Lampooned, Maligned in the press!
You were only trying to do your part to stop the national obesity epidemic!
How were you to know that Olean caused anal leakage?
The Italians do not have Olean. What is this travesty? How could we possibly enjoy you now?
I wheeled my cart past you in the StarMarket, your potato head red with shame - as red as the untouched rows of tall cans that nobody wanted.
The butt of SNL jokes.

But Mr. Pringles,
Time heals all wounds and your tall red can
Was eventually given a fresh slate, wiped clean of Olean, and on a whim
Pelligrino and Pringles appear in the grocery cart - an attempt to recapture the
balcony moments of paradise lost... moments re-found on wedding anniversaries and other road trips of our twenties.

And now Mr. Pringles,
Here we are.
We're not getting any younger.
Your mysterious mustachioed potato head like a beacon
In the supermarket.
You are my one and only.
The one and only legitimate craving of my latest 9 month confinement.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and any time in between - I hear the siren song of the tall red can.
Free of preservatives, free of trans fatty oils, and free of Olean.
The crunch of dried potato goodness echoing as can after can disappears.
More than a snack - an escape!

For I can close my eyes and remember our first chance meeting
In the hotel mini bar.
When I reached past the Perroni and the biscuits
Somewhere between the Orange-ina and the Nutella
And saw you there waiting.
We ate the fruit and saw the light.
Joy! Joy! Joy!

Oh you,
Crispy, cute Mr. Pringles.

Stuck In the Middle

SETTING:
The MarthaWho Household. MarthaWho is reading CNN online and Mr. MarthaWho is running around getting ready for a meeting.

MARTHAWHO:
Charles Carl Roberts.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Huh?

MARTHAWHO:
Charles Carl Roberts. The guy who killed those Amish schoolgirls this week.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
What about him? I'm listening but I have to get ready for this meeting.

MARTHAWHO:
Well I mean, yesterday he was just plain old Charles Roberts, but today he is Charles Carl Roberts!

MR. MARTHAWHO:
I don't get it.

MARTHAWHO:
You know -- like simply being born into a middle name like Carl made him into the psychopath he is today.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Talk louder. I'm listening but I have to go upstairs to change my shirt.

MARTHAWHO:
(yelling)
I mean, don't you think it's weird that when someone in this country commits an unspeakable crime, their middle name becomes so important? Like that fuck-up that confessed to JonBenet Ramsey's murder this summer? He went from being John Karr, garden-variety pedophile, to being John Michael Karr when he confessed to a crime.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Uh-huh.

MARTHAWHO:
Except he didn't really commit that crime it turns out. It would be interesting to see how CNN and the other media refer to him now that he's only a regular ol' sex offender again. What a disappointment for them... But really when you think about it, it's peculiar isn't it?

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Honestly honey I haven't given it much thought.

MARTHAWHO:
Well think about it! I mean, was John Wilkes Booth always called John Wilkes Booth? Or Lee Harvey Oswald? When did Harvey become so important. Was it always like that? As in prom night for example, "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet my date, John Wilkes Booth!"

MR. MARTHAWHO:
I'll bet he didn't go to a prom.

MARTHAWHO:
But you see what I mean, right? It's peculiar. And very American in some way. The idea of needing to manufacture more drama by elevating one's middle name to such notoriety. I mean the only time I've ever heard my own middle name spoken aloud was during our wedding, and I guess maybe at my high school and college graduation ceremonies.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Hey - what time is it anyway?

MARTHAWHO:
It's ten-forty.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Fuck. I'm going to be late.

MARTHAWHO:
You know what else is funny -- the middle name thing seems to apply mostly to assasins who had single victims. There are some, but not too many serial killers you hear about with such elevated middle name status. What's Charles Manson's middle name? What about Jeffrey Dahmer?

MR. MARTHAWHO:
So is there a point honey? Cause I really am in a hurry up here.

MARTHAWHO:
I don't know why people don't care about these things like I do.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
You're bored with your job. You need to find something else to do.

MARTHAWHO:
I'm just sorry you don't appreciate my passion for the most nauseating of minor details.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
(rushing downstairs, collecting his BlackBerry and carkeys)
Oh I care, honey. I really do appreciate it. But I have to go.

MARTHAWHO:
Particularly as we prepare to bestow a name upon our second child.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Oh gawwwd.....

MARTHAWHO:
What we choose as a name could predestine her for a life of violent crime. I mean, should she be known as Sally Elizabeth K_______? or Sally Carl K____________?

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Are we naming this kid Sally? News to me.

MARTHAWHO:
I'm just saying...

MR. MARTHAWHO:
I gotta go. Why don't you go blog about this and get it out of your system.

MARTHAWHO:
Ok.

MR. MARTHAWHO:
Then seriously. Find something else to do with your time today.

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