Category Archives: training Frank J

Frank J.: World’s Biggest Baby

I started to make my husband’s lunch this morning, and he said he still had his lunch that I made him 2 days ago. Wednesday, they all had lunch catered, so he left his lunch in the fridge for Thursday. What about yesterday?

FRANK J.: Eh, I just wasn’t feeling well and didn’t feel like eating.
SARAHK: You didn’t want to eat your sandwich because I used wheat bread.
FRANK J.: [the following look on his face]

SARAHK: You are such a big baby.
FRANK J.: I just didn’t feel like eating.
SARAHK: You are such a big baby. It is not that bad. You eat your sandwich today, or I’m going to stop making your lunches.
FRANK J.: I just didn’t feel like eating.
SARAHK: I’m never buying white bread again if you don’t eat your wheat bread today, you big baby.

My goodness, I’m eating a peanut butter sandwich right now, and it’s not that bad. It’s actually pretty decent wheat bread.

beat by his own argument

FRANK J. [and this is out of the blue, so there was no reason for him to have to say this]: Sweetie, no matter how much these trade paperbacks cost for such little reading time, they still cost about half as much as these comic books I’m buying.
SARAHK: Even more proof that you shouldn’t buy any more comic books.
FRANK J.: But…
FRANK J.: But they can’t all come out in trade paperbacks!
SARAHK: I’m sure they do. And it would be an easy thing for you to check.
FRANK J.: But I want to find out what happens next to Aquaman now!
SARAHK: If you can’t wait to find out what happens to Aquaman, then you’re totally gay, because Aquaman’s gay!
SARAHK: And think of what that would do to my ego! No more comic books!


FRANK J.: You look so cute in your painting outfit. I don’t know if this is appropriate to say, but it looks like you’ve already lost some weight.
SARAHK: That is fully appropriate to say.


SARAHK: Oh, I just want to clarify. If I say I’m a fat cow, then it’s not appropriate to say, “but it looks like you’ve already lost some weight.”
FRANK J.: But I just said it own my own.
SARAHK: Yes I know. It is fully appropriate to say it out of the blue. But if you say it in response to “I’m a fat cow,” then you’re in effect agreeing with the statement by responding that at least it’s getting better.

he thinks it’s a good thing to say

SARAHK: Don’t look at my butt. It’s huge.
FRANK J.: I like looking at your butt.
SARAHK: It’s huge.
FRANK J.: That makes it easier to see.

i cut my finger this weekend

Cutco knives really are as sharp as they seem, and i really should be ascared of them like i am. here was that conversation, and it goes just as you would expect with me being married to the great Frank J.

SARAHK: [yelling unintelligibly from the kitchen]

FRANK J.: Are you ok, Sweetie?

SARAHK: Yes… no… ouch…

FRANK J.: What happened?

SARAHK: I cut myself. Ow… [face all screwed up in horror at the amount of blood issuing from the cut, and it's right there at the cuticle, so you know this hurts]

FRANK J.: You know, I’m always afraid that I’ll cut myself when using a knife like that, but I never have.

SARAHK: Do you remember back when this was not about you?

it’s Frank’s fault

Rowdi’s a bad dog. she tries my patience. it’s almost like she wants to get grounded and sulk for a while. anyway, i blame Frank. the other night, we were praying together, and he was saying the prayer, and he had the “wisdom” to pray for patience.

anyone who’s ever made the mistake of praying for patience knows what i’m talking about. praying for patience gets you situations that you need patience for, you know, so you can hone that patience skill.

at least that’s what i’ve heard. i’ve never actually been dumb enough to do such a thing. :-)

on habits

are we the only ones like this? i almost always use the guest bathroom, and Frank almost always uses the master bathroom. the only times i’ll use the master bathroom are when Frank isn’t home, or in the middle of the night. even when i first wake up in the morning and go straight to the bathroom, i go to the guest bathroom. maybe because it’s closest to the coffee maker, and that’s always my 2nd stop.

so here’s a conversation we just had:

SARAHK [seeing that Frank has just gone into my bathroom]:  uh uh!! i was gonna go there! [like he was supposed to know that.]
FRANK [he's already closed the door, so he opens it back up]:  fine, i’ll go to the other one. i almost always go there anyway.

SARAHK:  yeah, and i almost always go here.

FRANK:  well, the other one is mine.

so he went off to the master bath, and i went to mine. he’s a very gentlemanly man. always willing to give up a seat for his wifey. well, except that he doesn’t sit to pee. but other than that, my pun is funny.

but it burns

Frank got in trouble last night.

SARAHK [in the livingroom putting out the candles]: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!
FRANK J. [in bed]: what is it, sweetie?
SARAHK: nothing.
FRANK J.: what is it?
SARAHK [not convincingly]: i’m fine.
FRANK J.: sweetie, can you not yell? i have a headache.
SARAHK: i’m so sorry you have a headache [i've had one since Saturday]. i just burned my fingers.

so in the livingroom, i have tried to fix the deformation of my hot candle, and the wax has spilled out all over three of my fingers (and the carpet, i didn’t mention that to Frank). i am in enough pain that i am crying. big tears all down my face. lots of wax.

i go into the front bathroom, slamming the door. and i mean slamming.

run my fingers under cold water, which makes me cry more. when i come out, finally Frank has realized that his headache comment has gotten him in trouble, and he’s out of bed, asking if i’m ok, and what can he do.

which makes him do the only thing he knows how to do to get himself out of trouble. i get into bed, and he starts trying to make me laugh. after a few minutes, he succeeds and i just start in giving him a hard time.

i can’t remember what we said, but i do remember that we came up with a great podcast sketch. i think it started when he tried to smother me with a pillow. Mr. Shiny was involved, and CSIs. maybe Frank will remember it. i laughed so hard i cried, and my head throbbed even harder. my fingers were better, though. except that my husband kept trying to grab my hand, and finally i told him to stop torturing me.

shoulda saved that one for later

FRANK: will you bring me a bottle of water?
SARAHK: yes, dum-dum monkey face, i’ll bring you a bottle of water.
FRANK: will you put a warm bottle of water in the fridge to replace the cold bottle?
FRANK: but i learned to put down the toilet seat!
SARAHK: ok, fine. you had to bring out the big guns!
FRANK: aww, man, i should’ve saved that one for teaching you to bring in your empty coke cans from the car.
SARAHK: yep, now it’s too late! you’ll never get to use it again, and i’ll always leave the coke cans in the car!
FRANK: well, in that way you’re just like my mother.
SARAHK: most men like it when their woman’s somewhat like their mother. so be happy.
FRANK: nah, you’ve met my mother, remember? she’s mean!
SARAHK: i’ma tell her you said that.
FRANK: aww!

my favorite author

yesterday i emailed Paullina Simons, author of my all-time favorite book, The Bronze Horseman, and asked if she had any other novels coming out soon… she’s such a nice woman, always responds to my emails. anyway, it turns out that she already has a new one out that i haven’t read, but like the last one, this one is only available to order from Australia (come on, American publishers!). good thing my birthday is Tuesday and my man is a sucker.

but she gave me even better news: a third part to the Tatiana and Alexander story is to be released this winter (again in Australia). when i read that, i wanted to turn cartwheels into Lake Ilmen!!

UPDATE: i called Frank yesterday, and we had the following conversation.

SARAHK: guess what!!!
FRANK J.: ummm, you bought me a German Shepherd.
SARAHK: no, you goofy goof! i emailed my favorite author today to ask if she had any new novels coming out…
FRANK J.: what does that have to do with German Shepherds?
SARAHK: nothing! and neither will you if you don’t listen! anyway, she has a new novel out that i haven’t read!
FRANK J.: oh yeah?
SARAHK: and my birthday is Tuesday.
FRANK J.: i know. i’m still trying to figure out what to get you.
SARAHK: yeah. well, you can order this book only from Australia. it’s called The Girl in Times Square.
FRANK J.: okay…
SARAHK: it’s by Paullina Simons.
FRANK J.: uh-huh.
SARAHK: are you paying attention?
FRANK J.: yes.
SARAHK: The Girl in Times Square.
FRANK J.: The Girl in Times Square. [repeats slowly, as if he's writing it down]
SARAHK: by Paullina Simons.
FRANK J.: Paullina Simons.
SARAHK: yep.

so this morning, we had this conversation:

SARAHK: hey, Sweetie, have you ordered the book from Australia yet?
FRANK J.: book from Australia?
SARAHK: for my birthday? yeah, i just noticed there are 2 different book sizes, and i wanted to tell you which size i wanted, if you haven’t already ordered it.
FRANK J.: book from Australia?
SARAHK: remember when i called you yesterday and told you about my favorite author writing a new novel… and that it’s only available to order from Australia?… sound familiar?
FRANK J.: yeah, i remember…
SARAHK: remember how i had you repeat it back to me, and told you my birthday is Tuesday?
FRANK J.: oh.
SARAHK: you forgot?
FRANK J.: no, i didn’t get that it was a hint.
FRANK J.: i was sitting there thinking, ‘ugh! quit talking! i’m trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday!’

he’s kinda dense sometimes. but i do love him. :-)

the training is coming along so nicely

my fiance is the sweetest

i love saying that. fiance. so amid working on CPA stuff and trying to get any sort of decent blogging done, i have a problem that can wait no longer. as is my custom during tax/busy/whatever season, i’ve grown out of all of my clothes to the point that i must go shopping. not just need to. must. and this isn’t just shopping. this is full-on depressed, i’m-a-cow* shopping. the worst kind.

my sweet fiance went with me. not just went with me. went with me and didn’t complain. Saturday i dragged him to 3 different malls all over the county and didn’t find a single thing until we were back closer to his house. we got in around 10 p.m. included in our outing were tears, SarahK style, and oh i am pathetic when i cry. it’s really a horror to behold. think of the ugliest-crying person you know, and i could give them a run for their money. especially with my roots grown out (i haven’t had a cut nor a highlight since right before my American Idol audition) and no mascara on. oh yeah. because the shopping experience didn’t promise to be bad enough, i had to go to the first mall without mascara. see, i always put on my makeup in the car (no nagging, Bikermommy!), and we were in my sweet fiance’s car, so my makeup was in Tha Pinkytoe (aka Pinky, aka my car).

after one mall and a Ross DFL, i said in broken voice, “let’s… go… to… Pier 1. i’ll spend money in there and then feel better.” but i could see i was going overboard once we were in there, because, well, it’s Pier 1. and my dishes are there, and i have 4 settings and want 4 more and almost went nuts and bought them all. but had i done that, i’d have missed out on buying them with my gift card that my Sizzle gave me for Christmas. plus, no money for clothes if i buy all my dishes.

anyway, we went to Petsmart and got Sydney a collar so she’d stop chewing on her stitches. she had already removed one herself, so we took the collar back to Frank’s house, and it was too big (the smallest size even). we checked her out, and she seemed fine, so we went back out shopping.

ok. i told Frank he could stay home and play video games while i was shopping. he asked if i wanted him to go, and i said yes, i’d love his company, but i totally understood if he wanted to stay. because i abhor shopping myself, and to go shop with someone else who is just going to be in the worst mood because she feels like a whale (we progress, and our perceived mammal-bodies get bigger with every store. by mall #2 – orca.) and because she hates to shop for clothes… well, there aren’t many bigger beatings in life. but he said he’d go with me so we’d at least be spending time together. * sniff *

the second mall was no better than the first, though for some reason, i was more calm. maybe because Frank was with me and i was so pleased by his being so sweet and patient with me. maybe because i had moved from “i should be chewing cud and lying in a pasture sunning myself” to “it could be worse, i could be eating plankton and swimming all day.” see? improvement. or it could have been that i picked up my makeup when we were at the house and no longer looked like a deathwalker. btw, i think mascara transforms me more than anyone else on the planet. it’s like instant sunshine in a tube.

i finally found a few articles of clothing at mall #3. and Frank was sweet and patient all the way through.

oh how i love him.

btw, i worked some yesterday afternoon and last night. and during breaks, i played Puzzle Kombat (a very bloody Mortal Kombat version of SuperCollapse) with him. he beats me almost every time, but i’m an addict now. it’s usually me saying “just one more game.” so that gets added to the repertoire of video games that i play with him. Donkey Konga makes 2. and we’re going to look into karaoke equipment for the fun of it. watch out world.

* i know i’m not a cow, but that’s how any woman who has grown out of all of her clothes sees herself, especially through the eyes of dressing room mirrors.

i’m sorry

Frank worked late tonight and made me worry. didn’t answer any of his phones, didn’t call me, and by 7:30, i was really unsettled.

later this evening…

FRANK J: i’m sorry i made you worry, sweetie.
SARAHK: i’m sorry i’m taking advantage of it.


Frank is so cute

he just came out of the bathroom and i noticed that he was fastening his belt.

SARAHK: why are you putting your belt on? it’s 9 p.m., you’re in for the evening.
FRANK: i went to the bathroom, now i’m putting my belt back on. wow, she really is a cutie head.
SARAHK: why do you need your belt? you’re at home, goofy goof. seriously. would you like me to get you a necktie?
FRANK: it holds my Leatherman. i might need that.
SARAHK: are you going to need to defend yourself? d’oh! it’s a multi-purpose tool, not a weapon! stupid! stupid! stupid!
FRANK: it’s not a defense weapon, sweetie. i’m dating Jessica Simpson. except without all the boobs and lips.
SARAHK: are you going to need to take something apart? divert attention! make him forget you called it a weapon!
FRANK: i used it to open my Guinness. and you shut up!
SARAHK: are you gonna have another beer? beer bad! beer evil!
FRANK: i am if you keep nagging! buuuuuuuuuurrrrrnnnn!


Frank came into the living room this morning and said, “where’s my coffee?”
“i don’t know, where did you last see it?”

i’m such a bad girlfriend.

he’s not as dumb as he presents himself to be

i cook here, and i’ve told Frank that if i’m gonna slave over home cooked meals (and most from scratch), he should do the dishes. “ok, sweetie.”

so he never actually does the dishes unless prompted. the following are excerpts from actual conversations:

SARAHK: sweetie, will you unload the dishwasher?
FRANK: sure. [unloads dishwasher and leaves room.]
SARAHK: sweetie, will you load the dishwasher?
FRANK: sure. [loads the dishwasher and leaves the room.]

Frank always helps me out by doing exactly what i ask. no more and no less.

so tonight when i came in…

SARAHK: will you wash your one skillet and one cutting board so i can make your spaghetti?
FRANK: yeah, sure, sweetie.
a few minutes later…
FRANK: ok, sweetie, i cleaned the skillet and the cutting board.
SARAHK: um, are you sure? i didn’t hear any water running.
SARAHK: sweetie. did you use soap and water on the skillet and cutting board? actually wash them?
SARAHK: sweetie?
FRANK: no, i wiped them with a paper towel.
SARAHK: i know what you’re doing.
FRANK: what do you mean?
SARAHK: you are not that clueless.
FRANK: what? maybe i am that clueless. [he grins.]
SARAHK: i am not going to never ask you to wash dishes because you act clueless. you tried that the other day with the dishwasher.
FRANK: what?
SARAHK: i know you know that to wash a dish, it takes soap and water.
FRANK: oh, i didn’t know.
FRANK: well, i don’t know what to do.
SARAHK: you are not that clueless. you see that thing in the sink that has a sponge on the end and soap in a tube?
FRANK: yeah, i hate it, i can never figure out how to get the soap out.
SARAHK: please use soap and water and let me know when you’re done.

he does this so i’ll think, “if i let Frank do it, he’s just gonna screw it up. i’d better do it myself.”
not gonna work.

you like pot roast??

SARAHK: you like pot roast?
FRANK: uhhhh… yeah?
FRANK: i’m not sure exactly what that is. it’s like, with gravy and stuff, right?


i can’t believe i’m in love with a Yankee.

oops, my turn to say the wrong thing…

he said, “i don’t know why you put up with me.”
i said, “i don’t either.”
he said, “heeeeyyyyy. that’s not the right answer!”


i’m changing the name of this blog

i think i’m gonna need a new banner, Chad. cross out “mountaineer musings” and call it either “Frank J is an idiot” or “boy training blog”. :-) [disclaimer: Frank came up with both names, i only used his genius.] i also think i need a new category. some of the boy training doesn’t exactly fit into “adventures of a t-shirt babe”.

so i said, “i’m sorry i’m so whiny and demanding.”
and he said, “that’s what i love about you.”

when what he should have said was, “you’re not whiny and demanding. you’re perfect, and i couldn’t love anyone more, my love.”