100% Magic

As my husband and I were waiting in line to pay for his newly-selected softball glove and ball at Academy Sports and Outdoors, a small display for Magic Boxer Shorts caught my eye. "100% Magic!" it proclaimed from a rather cheesy yellow sunburst. I reached over and picked up a Ken-doll-sized pair of golf ball patterened skivvies. What makes these tiny boxer shorts so full of magic? I thought. Clearly this was an error in marketing, and someone at the Magic Boxer Short Corporation should be notified of this mistake. I leaned closer the small display box to learn more about these mysterious underpants. Perhaps I had been mistaken?
In miniscule print at the bottom of the front panel of the box, I discovered instructions for how to get the most out of your magic boxer shorts. What I read is as follows:

1. Remove shorts from wrapper.
2. Place in water and wait 1 to 2 minutes.
3. Now you have a pair of Magic Boxer Shorts ready to wear!

My interest was piqued. Where could I learn more about these underpants, soggy with magic? Fortunately for my curiosity, there was a website conveniently printed on the display box.

This evening, as I perused www.magicboxershorts.com, I was impressed at the selection of magically-saturated boxers. Sunglass-wearing penguins, a skull and crossbones, or giant pink lips could adorn your very own pair of magical underpants.

As I continued my quest for more information, I stumbled across a link to the company that produces Magic Boxer Shorts, as well as other "Magic" products (their newest release is a Magic Bath Towel Bag, both a towel - otherwise known as a washcloth - and a backpack at the same time!). The Brabo Group can be credited with this ingenious line of Magic products.

But where exactly do these magical products originate? I wondered. Apparently in Switzerland, the Carribbean and Miami. There's even a picture on the website to vouch for Brabo's high standards of quality and magical abilities.

You can check it out for yourself at www.brabomagic.com/factory/index.html.

I, for one, was definitely impressed, as I'm sure you will be.

Scarred for Life

As I was frantically marking down bottles of D'janou Pear Vinegar and Italian Taruli today, I overheard a mother talking to her two very energetic little boys as they bounced among the displays at Williams-Sonoma.
One of the two was particularly rambunctious, and apparently his energy was quickly transferring to the other brother. After pulling the catalyst from a straw-filled basket where he had previously been nesting, the mother (in a surprisingly calm tone of voice for her sons' disobedience) commanded, "Criss-cross, applesauce, boys. I need you to sit down." Of course, the boys criss-crossed, applesauced, but as soon as she turned her back, they were up and running again.
The older of the two went over to a crock full of potato mashers, plucked the perfect one, then turned to his younger brother and challenged, "Touchee, kitty cat!" Next, of course, ensued a masher battle of minor proportions.
Evidently, this was the last straw and the mother barked, "CRISS-CROSS, APPLESAUCE!" as she rushed over to the scene of the crime. When the boys did not disarm, the mother threatened, "Do you want me to take your shirts? I really don't think you want me to take them from you."
I stood there, aghast. What kind of mother threatens half-nakedness as a punishment? What ever happened to time out or restricted PlayStation time? Or extra chores, hiny swats, and retracted computer privileges? Apparently this mother had never heard of these forms of discipline.

I wondered to myself about those boys and how they would turn out in the future. What would happen once they arrived in junior high gym class? Would they be able to shower with confidence, or would they remain clothed and afraid that this sort of public undressing was yet another way their mother was punishing them? Or what about doctor's visits? How would these boys handle removing their street clothes and donning a flimsy blue gown? Could they realize that the doctor just wanted to help, that he wasn't in cohorts with their mother to punish them for not cleaning their room? Or, worse yet, when they meet the girl of their dreams and (ideally speaking) wind up marrying her, what will they do on their wedding night? Will they be so petrified of removing their garments that they cannot consummate their marriage? (Okay...so maybe that's crossing the line of what we should worry about strangers, but it did cross my mind.)

As I stood there, a jar of marinade au poivre in my hand, I wondered if these boys would be scarred for life, and I hoped that they weren't. I resolved that when I have children and they misbehave in public places, I will threaten them with the removal of something less intimate, like a sock.

Inspector (Kitchen) Gadget

Each weekday I unpack boxes of bubble-wrapped porcelain gravy boats, stainless steel scrubbers, imported almond extract, and the like. My role is as a kitchen gadget inspector of sorts. Today, as my fellow stockroom workers and I opened a record 207 boxes, we discovered a most unusual phenomenon: round chafing pans.

Now, I don't know if this strikes anyone else as extremely odd, but I certainly thought to myself when presented with this strangely named kitchen gadget, "Who in the heck would use a chafing pan? It just sounds painful." Besides that, what would you chafe? A block of cheese? Three tablespoons of olive oil? A chicken breast? I can't think of any recipes that call of chafing of the ingredients. But then again, I'm not Julia Childs. Or Chuck Williams.

Needless to say, this discovery falls within the ranks of egg fry rings, checkerboard cake pans, and Italian porcelain fruit. Just peruse www.williams-sonoma.com for a few minutes and you'll see what ridiculousness I unpack every day.

Whoever comes up with this stuff has way too much disposable time - and income - on their hands. Either that or they're really demented.

Disturbing Things I Saw While Driving Today

1. As I was on my way home from work, I noticed that the man driving the Jeep Grand Cherokee in front of me was brushing his teeth. While continuing at 40+ miles an hour, I watched, horrified, as he pulled a gallon-sized water jug to his lips. (At this point, I'm wondering if he is swallowing the toothpaste or not.) Moments later our vehicles came to a stop, and I witnessed this unidentified man spit out said toothpaste water onto the pavement. That's just sick.
2. While exploring the sidestreets of Keller, Texas, I drove past Mattie's Prissy Poodle Grooming where a freshly preened and overly spoiled poodle was strutting her stuff on a rhinestoned leash in front of an equally-spoiled owner. As if perfumed and sweatered lap dogs weren't alarming enough.
3. A motorcycle cop pulled out behind me as I was driving along Keller Parkway, well below speed limit. For the next two miles, he followed me and, I swear, I could have had a wreck because I kept nervously checking my rear view mirror to see if he'd turned his lights on. Fortunately he turned into McDonald's.
4. When I stopped for gas at a local QuikTrip, I noticed that the shiny new Mercedes SUV across the way was being fueled by swimsuit-clad teenage girl - and she was using Daddy's credit card. I wondered if he'd mind paying for mine?
5. I caught every single red light between Western Center Boulevard and Keller Parkway on my way to work this morning. The traffic light gods have it out for me.

The Metroplex is a crazy place.