I HAD EVERY INTENTION TO FILL THIS SPACE WITH SO MANY HONEYMOON PICTURES AND STORIES that you’d want to break my computer two days into it just to get me to stop posting. I mean, come on, I was tweeting and Facebooking and picture uploading after the wedding right up until my phone lost service when we stepped on the cruise, and I had awesome stuff scheduled for the whole week we were away. But then we came back and those good intentions to post got pushed behind the pile of all the crap (“crap” is probably not an appropriate term for all the gifts we were given) that needed to be opened, put away, organized, cleaned…not to mention the piles of my junk we had to dejunk so he could have some room to actually claim as his.

So for the past five days I’ve been overloaded and overwhelmed and any other word that starts with “over”, so I took a break from the web so I could get my real life in order. I’m finally to a point where I don’t feel like I’m losing my mind – as much. And yes, you will still hear all the fun honeymoon stories like the time Kevin got his face licked by a parrot and I got sat on by a donkey. All things in time.

But last night!

Let me set the scene a little bit.

It was around 8:30. Dinner was hot and ready on our plates, and I’d convinced Kevin to suffer through watching 27 Dresses with me. We were barely getting to the good parts when we heard something fall over by the fireplace.

“What the hell was that?! Did you hear that? Something just fell,” Kevin turned towards me in the dark.

I told him that yes I’d heard it and whatever it was, it was definitely INSIDE with us. I have better eyesight than he does at night and I could see the thing as it scurried up the fireplace screen. I jumped up and turned on the light, expecting to see a mouse. What we found instead?

A bat.

A big, hairy, ugly bat that had flown down our chimney, weaseled it’s way through the closed vent and crawled, creep-like, up our screen.

This totally trumps the two half-dollar sized wolf spiders Kevin found and killed on our porch a few weeks back.

“IT’S A BAT! A BAT IS IN OUR HOUSE. IN. OUR. HOUSE!” I was screaming and laughing and just freaking out in general. I like bats, but I don’t want to touch them or move them. All I could keep thinking about was the freak accident from a few years ago where a bat fell out of a tree in pure daylight, fell on a baby, then BIT HIM AND GAVE HIM RABIES. The entire families had to get rabies shots in the stomach.

Gag.

So we started planning on how we were going to get the damn thing out of our house (don’t give me that look, you’d swear too if you had a bat in your house). I found a pair of old riding gloves and threw them on, fully knowing I wasn’t going to actually grab the thing with my hands.

Double gag.

So what did I do instead? I gave the gloves to Kevin, handed him an old pillow case and kicked back with the camera to document it.

Only for you, Internet.

Enjoy the video, and may your house be pest free!

Love, The Officially Freaked Out Newlyweds

IT STARTED HARMLESSLY ENOUGH. I was driving, my phone buzzed, and Kevin reached for it.

“It’s Ash. She says she’s going to the cheese factory in Logan and wants to know if you want anything.”

“No I’m good. Grams might want some cheese curd but I just bought her some. Text her and tell her no but thanks for the offer.”

“I’m going to text her to get some Fumunda cheese.”

READER.

Do you know what Fumunda cheese is?

This is your warning to leave if either:

1) You don’t know what Fumunda cheese is and you don’t care to find out

or

2) You know what Fumunda cheese is and you are easily offended at the mention of it.

Okay. I’ll explain.

Fumunda cheese is, well. . .it’s a slang term from a joke that goes like this, “Would you like some Fumunda cheese?” and the person says, “Fumunda what?” and you reply, “Fumunda the crack of my butt!”

(Or I guess if you want a more graphic description of Fumunda cheese you could always look it up on Urban Dictionary. It’s funny, and just kind of wrong. But so funny.)

I’m no stranger to these types of jokes. Heck, I grew up with my other sister that made inapropriate phone calls to KFC.

So when Kevin texted Ashley that from my phone, I didn’t think she’d fall for it.

Turns out, she did.

“How do you pronounce it?” She texted back.

“Fun-unda. Just with an M. You might have to ask for it,” Kevin replied. At this point we couldn’t stop laughing and Kevin wouldn’t give me my phone back.

“LOL Okay.” was the response he got back.

I started reaching for my phone to text Ashley hints or to explain. “You can’t tell her! You’ll ruin it. Just see if she does it. She hit my car (hush hush, she just bumped it with her license plate, everything’s fine). She owes me one.” Kevin was pretty insistent, and hey, FINE I’ll admit I thought it would be pretty funny. I was trying to picture it. How would she say it? “Do you have any Fumunda cheese?” or “Where is your Fumunda?” or “I’m trying to find Fumunda cheese but I don’t see it anywhere.”

I waited three hours before I got a text from Ashley. “Do the words chocolate pocket mean anything to you?” Upon asking Kevin, we determined she was calling me a butthole.

Rude.

I sent her, “So I’m assuming they don’t have my cheese?” and she replied, “Haven’t even gotten there yet. Jake put a handful of chocolate in his pocket and it melted. He thinks it’s funny. Chocolate pocket.”

We were still in the clear, and I had to wait an hour more before I get this gem.

“Um if you set me up I will kick your this word has been removed by author. Niel says it means crotch and the workers had no idea what I was asking!”

I immediately called Ashley and had the funniest conversation in my life.

Niel was still too upset to really talk, so she wanted to know exactly what Fumunda was.

OH MY WORD YA’LL. Kevin got my sister to innocently ask a cheese factory worker if they had Fumunda cheese.

“Fumunda. . .” laugh, laugh laugh, “the crack”, snicker, “of yo’ . . .” and that’s all I managed before I collapsed on the floor in a heap. I couldn’t breathe for the tears streaming down my face and the stitch in my side was becoming painful. I could hear Ash gasping for air on the other side of the phone, Niel streaming curses and mutters in the background.

They came over later and she relayed the whole story. Mind you, the entire time she told the story we were both in fits of laughter while Niel sat on the other couch, shooting daggers at us. “I looked around the store and couldn’t find it anywhere, so I asked the old lady up front, ‘Do you have any Fumunda cheese?’ She hadn’t heard of it and asked if I had checked the exotic cheese isle. I said I had, so she called another worker, about nineteen years old over and had me repeat the question. The girl got a blank look on her face, and said, ‘Yea I’ve heard of it and no we definitely don’t have it’. All the while Niel was pissy so we went outside, turns out he thought it meant something to do with the crotch area and he was so embarrassed that I’d asked for that! I think I’m going to pee my pants, that was so funny. The best part was I was completely innocent! I had no idea what I was asking for!!!”

Niel may never recover from being severely mortified and embarrassed by the whole thing, but I’m okay with that. Ash sent me a text when she left. “Thanks for the best laugh I’ve ever had”.

All that I can say is that I’m sure one day she’ll get even. We always do!

UPDATE: This was Ashley’s Facebook status last night.

“Gas for our road trip $45.00, amount Niel spent on cheese $83.00, innocently asking the cashier if they sold Fumunda cheese….priceless. Sorry Aubrey, I honestly thought this was a cheese when I offered to get you something and this was your joking request. This is the most embarrassing thing I have EVER done.”

ON ONE OF OUR LAST DAYS in California we stopped at Coronado Island.

We had to drive over this  bridge to get there and I swear there was a suicide hot-line phone every ten feet.

Here is the view of San Diego from atop the bridge.

We parked by the Hotel del Coronado.

And Kevin and I grabbed our suits and ran into the freezing cold water. (I am cruel, but swimming in the ocean was one of my wants, so it’s what we did).

Can you see all the sails on the horizon?

Now for the funny parts.

I convinced Kim to take some photos of us while we were out there.

Little did I know I would end up with so many photos of:

1) Me flying like a duck.

2) A falling Kevin.

3) A wave before it knocked us over.

4) Me practicing my awesome pro swimming moves.

And the very best. . .

5) What looks like an awesome fist fight.

Dad (to Grams): Here you go, I picked up up those bananas you wanted. The manager said that due to the earthquake in Chile these are the only shipment they could get in.

Grams: Thank you!

Dad: Oh wait I forgot something. (Goes to his car, comes back in with real bananas). Here you go, I was just kidding about those other bananas. (Leaves laughing).

Grams: I knew he was just trying to prank me.

Me (rolling in the floor in laughter): Grams! You had no idea! You believed him! Don’t even try to say you didn’t.

Grams: Oh I knew – once he said they were from Chile. We don’t get our bananas from Chile, we get them from Mexico.

Me: Sure, sure.

Grams: I wonder if they taste different?

Kevin: (Grabs one, snarfs it down). Nope. Just like normal bananas.

Grams: Not normal bananas. Those are Aubrey-sized bananas.