The Pitter Patter of Little Paisley’s

I watched part of Father of the Bride II this past Sunday on TBS. It’s an ok movie. One of those movies you can watch when nothing else is on. I think the first installment of the remake of this little series, Father of the Bride, was a lot better.

The original FOB was fantastic, with Spencer Tracy, Elizabeth Taylor and the sequel to that one, Father’s Little Dividend, was great. Anything with Spencer Tracy is great though. He could’ve been in something like Jackass and it would’ve been a classic.

Anyway, as I suffered through the ridiculousness that is Father of the Bride II, I was looking at Kimberly Williams with her little pregnancy pillow on and I got to thinking “I wonder if Kimberly and Brad [Paisley] are going to have children?”

Well, whaddya know…the Mother in Law herself was the one to break the news to the world that Mr. and Mrs. Paisley are going to become parents for the first time in February.

Brad has been a good friend of Hazel’s since he started getting famous. He calls her all the time from here and yonder and I believe he will be appearing on Hazel’s new show Southern Fried Flicks soon. Even though they’re big buddies, I have yet to meet the father-to-be. Maybe I could give him some baby advice. That is, if I can remember. I’m so strapped in Teen Hell at the moment, I have to remind myself these two were once cute little toddlers drawing on the wall with Sharpies and stuff.

I was reading in some blog yesterday (sorry I don’t remember who it was or I’d link it) but the writer is a mother of four and was talking about how people ask her pregnancy/baby advice all the time and she has a hard time remembering details.

I’m sorta like that at times. I have been pregnant a total of 27 months and spent ten years changing diapers and carrying a little one on my hip. I love children, but, I’m not one of these that has to touch and hold every little person I see. I got wo’ out from living on Sesame Street. I do kinda miss Mr. Rogers a little bit. I’m at the point now when I see pregnant women, I feel sorry for them and say “Woo hoo…glad that ain’t me.”

The mean part of Sista Smiff is secretly hoping Kimmy gets a stomach full of stretch marks.

Mr. Smiff Hits The Mothership

One good thing about being unemployed is that I had the rare opportunity to spend a day out with Mr. Smiff. It was quite romantic.

We stopped by the Hairdo Place and got haircuts. Mr. Smiff didn’t get much in the way of style, but, I did. I wish I could make my hair look like this everyday.

Then, Mr. Smiff got his first taste of the Mothership. I was pretty excited to take him there, for he is a North Carolina boy that was raised around some good barbecue. His family raised hogs, for heavens sake…he knows what would be good and what wouldn’t be. These were the exact words upon tasting the barbecue and ribs:

“This beats the shit out of Whitts.”

My man may not have the fancy words, but, he do know what he’s talking about. It was great there today, but, there I had me a good hairdo and there was no Dr. Funkenswine in sight. The new girl up front claimed he was there but I never saw him.

Mr. Smiff loved the bathrooms, too. Those ribs were smokin’ today, as usual.