Sweet Mother of Fudge! 2/15 A Goodbye Summary~Pimples and Farts
- Thread starter Mrs. The King
- Start date
princessjv
DIS Veteran
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- Jul 29, 2005
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- 3,080
I always thought Tink tooted glitter? 
NO???
NO???
Lifelong_Dreamer
DIS Legend
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- 15,138
I am totally in for this one. 
whogirl'smom
<font color=royalblue>Any leftover grumpiness can
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I think we should call them Tinker-toots!
I, too, appreciate the large font. I am too proud to wear reading glasses yet; only for reading medication directions IF my arm doesn't reach long enough.
And, finally, we must have been in the same town off of I-95 on the way down, except we were in the scary KFC. Which we walked out of and went across the street to the glory of the only slightly frightening Burger King. (Now that is a scary dude for a mascot!
)
I, too, appreciate the large font. I am too proud to wear reading glasses yet; only for reading medication directions IF my arm doesn't reach long enough.
And, finally, we must have been in the same town off of I-95 on the way down, except we were in the scary KFC. Which we walked out of and went across the street to the glory of the only slightly frightening Burger King. (Now that is a scary dude for a mascot!
)
praisehisname
DIS Veteran
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- 4,343
Lovin' it so far!!!Denise
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
Great Start!! Can't wait for more...
--Jen
Fart jokes are the classy part.
Awwww...the doglets is cute!
My motha has a maltipoo with more malti than poo...and only 3 legs. She also has a talking poo(dle) who screams out "moooommmmaaaa" when my motha leaves the room. Go figure.
Lookin' forward to more!
Stinkin Malipoos are so cute. Though mine has decided he is into indoor plumbing
This sounds fmailliar, rather like something my dad useed to say...
Only it did NOT smell like vanilla. TFI.
Big fan of the Made Good Time club here. Can't help it - I grew up having to travel between NY and FL with my dad in 24 hours or less. And, after asking if I "smlled something", I was pretty okay with Dad making "good time", IYKWIM.
Oh lord, but they should!
Your Dad sounds like my kind of guy
Retirement Jail is no walk in the retirement park 
I always thought Tink tooted glitter?
NO???
She does toot glitter. If you actually tape record Tink's output and than play it back Beetles record style, You can here Jimminy Cricket singing "When you wish upon a star" it is touching.
I am totally in for this one.
Welcome Dreamer
I think we should call them Tinker-toots!
I, too, appreciate the large font. I am too proud to wear reading glasses yet; only for reading medication directions IF my arm doesn't reach long enough.
And, finally, we must have been in the same town off of I-95 on the way down, except we were in the scary KFC. Which we walked out of and went across the street to the glory of the only slightly frightening Burger King. (Now that is a scary dude for a mascot!
Large Font for you my dear Did you know that Burger King Mascot has reproduced himself! In the new commercial there is a little one that steals apples shaped like fries. I think that company got last picks when it came to advertising people.
Denise
Let me know when and if this report turns rotten for you
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
Today I think I need to introduce an important member of my family. Victims of my last trip report will remember this character's impact on the report and their lives. To Set the tone I need you to create a song for me in your head. Please imagine a talented singer belting out the moving song from the Lion King
"He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you"
Can you feel the love? let that song play in the background of your mind while I introduce my butt, The Jiggler. Yes, my butt has a name. I am going to recycle a story from my previous trip report about my Jiggler so any newbies can form their own relationship with it If you have read it before, go ahead and read it again. We can always learn more from the classics.
With much grumbling, and whining we WALK to the Big Ball. We meet my father and then both my parents help our family get in with their Main Gate passes. We hear the music, we smell the smells. Ahh. We love Epcot. First things first, the potty . The Jiggler has a little problem with some Disney potties. You see, I rarely potty alone. I have mastered the two and three person potty trip. Of course, we all cram into one stall . This potty trip it is just me and PS. PC prefers to go with Dad. PS and I make our way in. I back The Jiggler in [beep, beep, beep] and drag PS in behind me. I straddle the toilet and try to close the door. She is at a stage in her development where her head is just high enough to bang into the toilet tissue dispensers. I usually wind up cramming her head between the stall door and the dispenser, pinball style, a couple of times per trip. Big green eyes stare up at me in disbelief that she has to deal with a mom that has no concept of spatial relations. After we are safely locked in, we rotate the Jigger around to get the Jiggler protector (the toilet guard tissue).
Mrs. The King carefully plucks just one (wouldnt want to be wasteful). Gently and daintily I lay the Jiggler protector down. The toilet is competitive, just like the spider and the babies. The toilet feels I should not be a wimp and I should just lay the bare Jiggler down. Toughen up the toilet thinks and then it sucks my Jiggler protector down with enough force to render me nude if I were standing closer. PS screams and holds her ears. The flush is too loud she wails. In a frenzy to find safe harbor, she winds up bouncing between the Jiggler and the stall door . Well, I will try this again. Because I like to win. I want to beat the potty at its own game. I lay the protector down, nicey nice, the middle falls in, sets off the super sensitive sensor and sonic boom flush. PS is now a little leery of sitting on this insatiable monster that eats the Jiggler protectors so ferociously. What will it do with her teeny, tiny hiney? I am totally unaware of my daughters concerns. It is me verses the potty. I break out the ultimate weapon.
The bare Jiggler. If I can move fast enough, I can hold that protector in place. I will anchor it down and show that potty who is boss. The potty has had a lot of practice. I move as quick as lightening. Place the protector, swing the Jiggler around, knock into PS who bounces into the toilet tissue dispenser again. I am almost there; the bare Jiggler will be safe from all the germs of the 100 gazillion women that have done their business before me. I hear a high pitched whine I am not fast enough. My plan will not work. The potty sucks down its favorite treat, for a third time. The Jiggler is not a fast enough anchor To add insult to my bruised ego and germs to the germs I now get to wear, like a nasty accessory all day long, I get the the finishing touch. The splash of ice cold potty water . Aggh! I let out a little scream. Big green eyes are watching this whole show. Hands covering ears.
In her sweet little head, that potty just took a bite of the Jiggler and Mommy was getting sucked down next. She waits. Now, it is her turn. She bangs her head one more time against the t.p. dispenser in a futile effort to render herself unconscious and avoid being sucked down by the Jiggler protector eating, sonic booming, auto flushing potty. She is unsuccessful and she is up next. I did what all good moms do. I bribed her. With toys , treats and ponies . (Dont tell Mr. The King about that last one)
Well, the potty stop is over. Me and all my new germs start to look for Mr. The King. He is so fun to find. On his back he wears enough audiovisual equipment that he can actually broadcast live to news stations if they need him. There is even a satellite dish strapped to his hat. But his cell phone is set to silent and vibrate. He never feels it in his pocket. Finally, we make contact, he smiles at me, happy to be in his favorite place with his family and blissfully unaware that some day he will own a pony .
Ahh good times. Next up is a quick little ditty about my sister. We will return to regularly scheduled programing very soon. Isn't it pathetic that even a trip report has reruns at this time of year
Maybe it only happens in my house. Mr. The King kindly bought me the minivan of my dreams. He drives our crap vehicle. The one that you need two feet to drive, even though it is not standard shift. And the windows only work some of the time. I appreciate his sacrifice for my princess like comfort. But apparently, an inspection goes on that I don't know about. As he comes in the house he "notices" our van. He is checking for damage. Every day.
The other day he walks in to the kitchen where I am happily dancing the jiggler around. Big smiles.
He says "There is a ding in the van"
No response from me, still smiling, less dancy, trying to pretend like I am listening.
He tries again "There is a ding in the front hood"
Me ~"Maybe is is from the storm the other night? A tree branch or something"
Him ~"No"
How the hell does he know it wasn't a tree branch? Coulda been. What is he Columbo of the dings?
Him~ "Looks like a rock"
Here he throws in a pregnant pause. Full of accusation.
Me~"Huh, you think the storm kicked up a rock?"
Silence from Mr. The King. Then, the grilling stare. Like I am in an interview room down in the precinct. He adds the always pleasant eyebrow arch.
Isn't that sumthin? Does he think that I would not notice a rock banging on the hood of the van while driving it?
Need I mention that he has been driving the van both times we had damage to my princess mobile? Blew out the back window backing into a ladder and was at the helm when a actual rock hit the actual van and exploded out the back window?
No, I won't mention that.
Granted, the woman in my family have a crappy car history. Locking keys in running vehicles. Arriving to a lunch date in two cars leaving in one and forgetting about the second car. Until the next day.
But my sister has the worst stories of all. I was a passenger for one particular story. She was driving her spiffy Ford Feastiva. In the middle of the road, there was about a three foot high pile of manure that must have fallen off a farm truck, hay sticking out of it. Sis is doing about 55 miles per hour, headed straight for it.
Me (all calm) ~ "What ya gonna do about that pile?"
her (all calm) ~"I am going to put it between the tires"
Holy Crapamoly! Ever see a Feastiva? I have worn Maxi pads bigger than that car. I was sure we were about to launch Duke's of Hazards style over this giant pile of ****. I had to watch though. Couldn't believe my eyes. Like seeing a snake try and eat an elephant.
Boom, we hit. God Bless that little car, it didn't go airborne. But the grinding noise of the grill eating that mound was alarming. Thudding and smooshing over it, my sister refused to let up on the gas. It was fun seeing my Dad's face when we pulled in the driveway. Her car always smelled like poop after that.
Needless to say it wasn't me. The ding. I blame him.
What did I say was up next last time? Retirement Jail, G-pa's 90th, More food poisoning ala chicken and more biting bugs? and of course "Princess Down, I repeat, we have a Princess down!"
Chapter 2ish Dead Animal Show
"He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you
He lives in you"
Can you feel the love? let that song play in the background of your mind while I introduce my butt, The Jiggler. Yes, my butt has a name. I am going to recycle a story from my previous trip report about my Jiggler so any newbies can form their own relationship with it
If you have read it before, go ahead and read it again. We can always learn more from the classics.With much grumbling, and whining we WALK to the Big Ball. We meet my father and then both my parents help our family get in with their Main Gate passes. We hear the music, we smell the smells. Ahh. We love Epcot. First things first, the potty . The Jiggler has a little problem with some Disney potties. You see, I rarely potty alone. I have mastered the two and three person potty trip. Of course, we all cram into one stall . This potty trip it is just me and PS. PC prefers to go with Dad. PS and I make our way in. I back The Jiggler in [beep, beep, beep] and drag PS in behind me. I straddle the toilet and try to close the door. She is at a stage in her development where her head is just high enough to bang into the toilet tissue dispensers. I usually wind up cramming her head between the stall door and the dispenser, pinball style, a couple of times per trip. Big green eyes stare up at me in disbelief that she has to deal with a mom that has no concept of spatial relations. After we are safely locked in, we rotate the Jigger around to get the Jiggler protector (the toilet guard tissue).
Mrs. The King carefully plucks just one (wouldnt want to be wasteful). Gently and daintily I lay the Jiggler protector down. The toilet is competitive, just like the spider and the babies. The toilet feels I should not be a wimp and I should just lay the bare Jiggler down. Toughen up the toilet thinks and then it sucks my Jiggler protector down with enough force to render me nude if I were standing closer. PS screams and holds her ears. The flush is too loud she wails. In a frenzy to find safe harbor, she winds up bouncing between the Jiggler and the stall door . Well, I will try this again. Because I like to win. I want to beat the potty at its own game. I lay the protector down, nicey nice, the middle falls in, sets off the super sensitive sensor and sonic boom flush. PS is now a little leery of sitting on this insatiable monster that eats the Jiggler protectors so ferociously. What will it do with her teeny, tiny hiney? I am totally unaware of my daughters concerns. It is me verses the potty. I break out the ultimate weapon.
The bare Jiggler. If I can move fast enough, I can hold that protector in place. I will anchor it down and show that potty who is boss. The potty has had a lot of practice. I move as quick as lightening. Place the protector, swing the Jiggler around, knock into PS who bounces into the toilet tissue dispenser again. I am almost there; the bare Jiggler will be safe from all the germs of the 100 gazillion women that have done their business before me. I hear a high pitched whine I am not fast enough. My plan will not work. The potty sucks down its favorite treat, for a third time. The Jiggler is not a fast enough anchor To add insult to my bruised ego and germs to the germs I now get to wear, like a nasty accessory all day long, I get the the finishing touch. The splash of ice cold potty water . Aggh! I let out a little scream. Big green eyes are watching this whole show. Hands covering ears.
In her sweet little head, that potty just took a bite of the Jiggler and Mommy was getting sucked down next. She waits. Now, it is her turn. She bangs her head one more time against the t.p. dispenser in a futile effort to render herself unconscious and avoid being sucked down by the Jiggler protector eating, sonic booming, auto flushing potty. She is unsuccessful and she is up next. I did what all good moms do. I bribed her. With toys , treats and ponies . (Dont tell Mr. The King about that last one)
Well, the potty stop is over. Me and all my new germs start to look for Mr. The King. He is so fun to find. On his back he wears enough audiovisual equipment that he can actually broadcast live to news stations if they need him. There is even a satellite dish strapped to his hat. But his cell phone is set to silent and vibrate. He never feels it in his pocket. Finally, we make contact, he smiles at me, happy to be in his favorite place with his family and blissfully unaware that some day he will own a pony .
Ahh good times. Next up is a quick little ditty about my sister. We will return to regularly scheduled programing very soon. Isn't it pathetic that even a trip report has reruns at this time of year
Maybe it only happens in my house. Mr. The King kindly bought me the minivan of my dreams. He drives our crap vehicle. The one that you need two feet to drive, even though it is not standard shift. And the windows only work some of the time. I appreciate his sacrifice for my princess like comfort. But apparently, an inspection goes on that I don't know about. As he comes in the house he "notices" our van. He is checking for damage. Every day.
The other day he walks in to the kitchen where I am happily dancing the jiggler around. Big smiles.
He says "There is a ding in the van"
No response from me, still smiling, less dancy, trying to pretend like I am listening.
He tries again "There is a ding in the front hood"
Me ~"Maybe is is from the storm the other night? A tree branch or something"
Him ~"No"
How the hell does he know it wasn't a tree branch? Coulda been. What is he Columbo of the dings?
Him~ "Looks like a rock"
Here he throws in a pregnant pause. Full of accusation.
Me~"Huh, you think the storm kicked up a rock?"
Silence from Mr. The King. Then, the grilling stare. Like I am in an interview room down in the precinct. He adds the always pleasant eyebrow arch.
Isn't that sumthin? Does he think that I would not notice a rock banging on the hood of the van while driving it?
Need I mention that he has been driving the van both times we had damage to my princess mobile? Blew out the back window backing into a ladder and was at the helm when a actual rock hit the actual van and exploded out the back window?
No, I won't mention that.
Granted, the woman in my family have a crappy car history. Locking keys in running vehicles. Arriving to a lunch date in two cars leaving in one and forgetting about the second car. Until the next day.
But my sister has the worst stories of all. I was a passenger for one particular story. She was driving her spiffy Ford Feastiva. In the middle of the road, there was about a three foot high pile of manure that must have fallen off a farm truck, hay sticking out of it. Sis is doing about 55 miles per hour, headed straight for it.
Me (all calm) ~ "What ya gonna do about that pile?"
her (all calm) ~"I am going to put it between the tires"
Holy Crapamoly! Ever see a Feastiva? I have worn Maxi pads bigger than that car. I was sure we were about to launch Duke's of Hazards style over this giant pile of ****. I had to watch though. Couldn't believe my eyes. Like seeing a snake try and eat an elephant.
Boom, we hit. God Bless that little car, it didn't go airborne. But the grinding noise of the grill eating that mound was alarming. Thudding and smooshing over it, my sister refused to let up on the gas. It was fun seeing my Dad's face when we pulled in the driveway. Her car always smelled like poop after that.
Needless to say it wasn't me. The ding. I blame him.
What did I say was up next last time? Retirement Jail, G-pa's 90th, More food poisoning ala chicken and more biting bugs? and of course "Princess Down, I repeat, we have a Princess down!"
Chapter 2ish Dead Animal Show
AZMickeyfans
DIS Legend
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2006
- Messages
- 13,765
Ok I just got done reading your first TR!!! OMG I have not laughed that hard in so long. I am anxiously reading this one however I have neglected the kids too much today and we must go back to school shopping for shoes. They start Monday and need new sneakers for GYM class.
I'll catch up later!
I'll catch up later!
ZZUB
Roll Tide, Mean It
- Joined
- May 9, 2003
- Messages
- 947
Did you just invite us to form a relationship with your tushy? What board is this?
And THAT'S the ballgame. Good night nurse! That is some kind of funny!
praisehisname
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2003
- Messages
- 4,343
I laughed just as much this year as I did when I read it last year!!! Of course, my two girls had to know why I was laughing so hard. So, of course, I read it to them...Maggie (10) swears she will never eat jello again!
Please write more!!!
Denise
Please write more!!!
Denise
tybrilinja
Mouseketeer
- Joined
- Jul 9, 2008
- Messages
- 180
Omg....you have me laughing hysterically already. I have never read any of your other TR's but you can bet your hiney I'll be checking them out. I love your sense of humor and cant wait to hear more. Keep up the good work.....Stephanie
Oh, BTW my DD and DS are watching me like I've got the plague or something b/c I'm laughing so hard.....LOL.
Oh, BTW my DD and DS are watching me like I've got the plague or something b/c I'm laughing so hard.....LOL.
mkluvsmickey
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2007
- Messages
- 3,990
Funny stuff Mrs. the King! A friend in high school had the wonderful Ford Festiva - I can totally picture it! LOL!
ProudMommyof2
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Feb 21, 2007
- Messages
- 2,709
OK- I am laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my face and I am alarming my daughter!! 
And sorry sweetheart, you can not read what is soo funny!!
And to think I read about the Jiggler ages ago- how must the jiggler naive be doing!
And sorry sweetheart, you can not read what is soo funny!! And to think I read about the Jiggler ages ago- how must the jiggler naive be doing!
Thanks for the entertainment, Mrs. The King! I do so love a good Jiggler story! I do have a suggestion to end the Great Jiggler Protector Battle. Use hand sanitizing gel on the seat of The Throne. Squeeze a little onto some tissue and wipe the seat or carry a travel size pouch of Clorox anti-bacterial wipes. Beat the Potty at its own game! 
Neener-neener-neener on Jiggler proctector stealing, Jiggler splashing, obnoxiously-loud-PS-frightening Potties everywhere! Victory to the Jiggler!
Neener-neener-neener on Jiggler proctector stealing, Jiggler splashing, obnoxiously-loud-PS-frightening Potties everywhere! Victory to the Jiggler! 
Mother the King
Earning My Ears
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2008
- Messages
- 10
You have a book inside of you for sure! I laughed so hard I cried and did the little screams. Dad didn't know what was going on. Sister's car story is too funny. Look forward to more.
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
Awww!! Mom! The source of all my evil powers
Welcome to the trip report. I love you!-
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