Have you ever wondered what some of the more common phrases in work at home ads really mean? If you took most of them literally, you’d expect the entire world to be rich, just from the sheer lack of effort made in various home businesses.

Here are some common phrases and their probable true meanings… or at least my own interpretation of them.

No selling required!

It’s not selling if you just tell everyone you meet that it’s a great product, right? Your family, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, random people you meet on the street, kids, neighbor’s dog and so forth should be grateful that you take the time to tell them about these wonderful products. They will beat a path to your door if you do so.

No experience required

That’s right, no experience required, and you’re not going to get much in the way of experience here. Unless you count the life experience of losing money to a scam. That’s worth something, right?

Free money making website

Free website that we sell to all our suckers… err, members. Hope you don’t mind that it looks like every other member’s website.

Earn money in your sleep

Not going to happen until you’ve put in a ton of effort. You might even lose some sleep over it.

Free trial

Just give us your credit card information. Your trial will be up before you get the information you’re asking for in the mail. E-mail isn’t good enough for our information.

Get paid to type

All you have to do is type in ads to convince other people to fall for the same scam! It’s easy and you deserve to make the money you lost to us back somehow right? Bueller? Bueller?

Act now! Only x y slots open!

We don’t care that we can allow as many people as we want to download our electronic product. Matter of fact, we’ve done that already. But if you think we’re limiting our sales you might forget to do your due diligence. So hurry up, will ya?

Earn money on autopilot

Rather like earning money while you sleep. It can happen, but it’s not going to be as fast or as easy for most people as the ad claims… and it might not happen at all.

(Google) (Twitter) (other popular site) will pay you $x,xxx per month!

If you follow our instructions, you might manage to waste a lot of time, lose some money advertising, not to mention paying us, and have next to nothing for it. Sometimes we don’t even know who we’re pretending will be paying you. We trust you not to notice the mixups.

As seen on…

We bought an ad there once. We’re not exactly welcome back.

Never let it be said my daughter isn’t imaginative. She’s working on her Christmas wish list already, and it was really hard keeping a straight face as she asked me how to spell various things.

Here’s what she wants so far:

1. Goldfish with everything I need to take care of it.
2. Harp
3. Baby Alive Girl
4. Cat
5. Dog
6. Lizard
7. Dress
8. Swing set
9. 2 mice in a cage
10. 2 bunnies
11. Horse
12. 200 pearls
13. Candy
14. Fairies

There’s a story behind that last one, and she means she wants real fairies, not dolls. At a Renaissance Faire back when my daughter was 4 a troll gave her an iridescent marble and told her it was a fairy egg, and to take good care of it so that it would hatch.

Obviously, it never has.

My daughter has decided that she needs some real fairies to come help her with it, so that maybe it will finally hatch. Since she can’t find any on her own, she wants them for Christmas.

Some nights getting the kids to bed isn’t easy. They’re bright eyed and bushy tailed when you’re ready for them to get to bed. This has lead to me and my husband joking about a drinking game for getting the kids to bed.

Standard drinking game rules, except you can’t take a drink until the kids are actually asleep.

Child gets up for drink – Take one drink.

Asks for other parent – Take one drink.

Gets up to go potty – Take one drink.

Gets up to go potty but doesn’t do anything there – Take 2 drinks.

Asks for an extra story – Take one drink.

Asks for same story as the night before – Take 2 drinks.

Complains: “I’m too hot!” – Take one drink.

Complains: “I’m too cold!” – Take one drink.

One child is too hot and the other is too cold – Take 2 drinks.

Wants to watch television with you – Take one drink.

The show you’re watching isn’t age appropriate – Take one drink.

The show you’re watching isn’t age appropriate and your child wakes you with nightmares that night – Take 2 drinks.

Mysterious owie appears. It hurts a lot. Needs kisses – Take one drink.

Mysterious owie must, must I say, have a bandage put on it – Take 2 drinks.

Child throws up – Take 2 drinks.

Gets up crying that favorite bedtime toy is missing – Take one drink.

Missing toy is at foot of the bed – Take one drink.

Missing toy is right by pillow, where it had been when you put child to bed – Take 2 drinks.

And of course, kids go to bed with no trouble at all… take a drink if you feel like it. You probably deserve it.

My mom gave my son a new toy the other day. It’s pretty cute, an inflatable remote control dump truck. He loves it, especially since he can use it in the house and not worry much about bumping into walls.

But one part of it comes with a warning to not let children use it. Care to guess which part?

That’s the truck, remote and foot pump. He’s bumped it into walls enough already that I think it has a small leak somewhere. He doesn’t seem to mind.

So…

Which part is too dangerous for children?

Did you guess:

If so, you’re correct! The foot pump is apparently the most dangerous part of this toy! See?

If you can’t read that, it says:

Warning:
This is not a toy and must only be operated by an adult. Keep out of reach of children.

I’m sitting here trying to figure out the danger. I don’t think the accordion folds of it could give so much as a nasty pinch. I don’t think fingers could get badly stuck in it.

About the only danger I can see is a kid toppling over while stomping on it. Maybe I’m a mean mom, but I don’t see that as a problem.

At least that’s what my husband said when I pointed out the conversion error from pounds to kilograms on the diapers his mother bought for us from Walmart. It caught my eye because the Pampers Swaddlers we got from the hospital had a completely different answer, despite the number of pounds they say the diapers are good for being the same.

If you’re having trouble reading it, the Walmart ones say 10 lb or 8 kg while the Swaddlers say 10 lb or 4.5 kg, which is the correct answer.

That said, the Walmart ones really are larger. My tiny little girl just swims in them, while the Swaddlers fit beautifully. But 8 kg is more than 17.5 pounds, and I rather doubt they go that big.

In the long run we’re looking at cloth diapering. Just now Selene is much, much too small for the bumGenius diapers we have on hand, so we’re using disposables until she grows a little more. It should save us a lot of money. Then again, how will I find silly packaging mistakes like this?

Twas a few days before Christmas, and all through the house
The children were running, their usual carouse.
The furniture and floors had been cleaned up with care;
In hopes that somehow no messes they’d bear.

Ornaments were nestled into the tree and spread
In hopes that the children carefully would tread.
The weather to us was a little cold snap
Meaning rain on the window barely did tap.

Then in the living room there arose so much chatter
I left my computer to see what was the matter.
Much as the children might want me to dash
I knew it was just another childhood clash.

The lights on the tree quickly did show
The contested toy that someone did throw.
The mess no surprise that it should appear;
Though my hope for otherwise had been so sincere.

Holiday tempers can flare so very quick
The tension between them soon grew quite thick.
More rapid than usual, the quarrels they came;
With tugging and shouting and calling a name.

“That’s my toy!” “She hit me!” “Well I had it first!”
“No, I did!” “I’m telling!” They stopped with my outburst:
“Out to the back yard, and go have a ball;
Now go and play, go and play, go and play all!”

One look at the rain and outside they did fly;
Thinking of puddles and making mud pie.
So out of the door the children they flew
Barely heeding my insistence on the wearing of shoes.

It would take but a moment, I knew without proof;
That such a decision some would call a goof.
As I opened the window to listen for sound;
They raced all around the cold, muddy ground.

In mud they’d soon be covered from their heads to their foot;
The only question was how long they’d stay put.
The play in the mud was right on its track;
But all too soon they came in, wanting a snack.

Their wishes for food were oh so contrary;
Frozen treats or hot chocolate, and all they could carry.
Their sweet little eyes from play were aglow,
But they insisted their tummies more food they did owe.

Quickly I noted the chattering teeth,
As well as the mud on their shoes just beneath.
A quick decision, the mud or the belly?
Hoping the mud wasn’t sticky as jelly.

So I said, “Come in and clean up yourself”
While I looked for quick snacks up on the shelf.
Muddy feet on clean floors quickly did tread;
But now it was time to get the kids fed.

Not long in their bedrooms the children did lurk;
Eager to see the result of Mom’s work.
Pleased they did seem with the food that I chose;
With snack time they wanted to watch favorite shows.

Playtime wasn’t long enough; they quickly did bristle;
It’s amazing what foods can be used like a missile.
But I heard them exclaim, right before the next fight,
“Mommy, I’m sure ready for Christmas tonight!”

Oh I’ve been fighting malware,
All the livelong day!
I’ve been fighting malware,
Trying to make it go away!

Can’t I find the files that were
Infected so early in the morn?
Scanning the computer over
and over and over again!

Scanning, what’d it find,
Scanning, what’d it find,
Scanning, what’d it find for meeee?
Scanning, what’d it find,
Scanning, what’d it find,
Oh come on, let this be it!

Think of this as sung to “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad”. Probably badly too. It’s been a long day and I still don’t know if I’ve got it. Just glad in a way that it’s my husband’s computer rather than mine. I can at least do something semi-productive while waiting for each scan to finish.

That’s right, male pattern blindness. It’s the only explanation I can come up with.

Don’t get me wrong. My husband’s wonderful. But if something doesn’t particularly interest him, he just won’t see it. On the other hand he’s a wonderful husband and excellent father.

Then there are times like this morning. He decided to go to the grocery store after taking our son to speech therapy. I mentioned he’s a good husband and father, right? He wanted to get a couple things there and I told him we were out of milk.

He couldn’t find the milk I usually get, which has a discount if you buy two gallons. He’s quite certain it wasn’t there, even though I’ve shown him it before, and it’s always in the same place. But hey, he bought milk, so the complaint is minimal.

He also decided to clean the kitchen today. Well, more precisely he loaded the dishwasher. I don’t think he has wiped down the countertops ever without being asked. Honestly. Not once.

Yes, I know it can be impressive that he sees the dishes in the sink, since some don’t even do that much. My tactic is simple. I let them pile up. Eventually he will want to use the sink, realize he can’t, and voila! I have a dishwasher being loaded by my husband.

I try not to let things get that bad too often. It’s not a situation I like. Good thing I know how to ask him to help out too.

I think he does better than average in some areas. He doesn’t too often ask me where something is when it’s right where it belongs, where it always is. But then it’s generally something he wants.

If it doesn’t particularly interest him, on comes the blindness! It ensures that I do most of the shopping so I know we’ll have enough food (and that it’s healthy!) and handle most of the cleaning unless I ask otherwise or company’s coming. Dirt and clutter are all but invisible any other time.

We’re fortunate in that I’ve always been good at finding things. It probably helps that I look behind and under stuff as necessary. If neither of us can find it, well, it’s time to blame the house gnomes.

As of yet, there is no cure for male pattern blindness, but any researchers out there would have the encouragement of millions of wives.

Every parent knows the kind of night I’m talking about. The kind where your 3 year old just does not want to go to bed for anything. Despite the glaze in their eyes that tell you your child is really most of the way asleep, you keep seeing him or her wandering the house wanting just one more thing.

It goes about like this for me:

Just like any other night, I take my son to the potty, let him do whatever he’s going to do there, put on his diaper and jammies, read him a story, rock him in the darkened room, give hugs and put him to bed.

Too bad it didn’t work.

Five minutes later he’s up again. Thirsty. So he takes a drink and is put back to bed.

A few minutes later he’s up again, needing the potty. He wants to poop, so it takes a while. He requests the ‘Everyone Poops’ book. He listens to it with great zeal, as only a 3 year old can. Who knew that listening could be done so enthusiastically? But of course no progress is made on the potty during the story, yet after he insists he still needs to go.

Fifteen to twenty minutes later, he’s added about 2 drops of liquid to the toilet and is ready to concede that he’s done going potty. Time to brag to Daddy that he went potty!

Back to bed he goes. He complains that I did something and his back needs to be kissed better. I guess it’s better than saying I hurt his toes or somewhere else. I tuck him back in and turn out the light.

He’s up again because he’s sad. He doesn’t know why he’s sad, he just is. And only Mommy is allowed to put him back to bed, despite Daddy’s offer.

Ten minutes later he’s playing with his sister’s door, wanting to get her up too. Thank goodness she’s deep asleep. This time Daddy does put him to bed.

Zombie-like, he’s up again. His eyes barely register my approach. No particular reason to be up this time, so back to bed he goes. Finally, he remains in bed.

It’s been a long night, but at least sleepy children average sweet when they want to stay up so badly. Better than dealing with tantrums, high fevers or vomiting for a reason to stay up half the night. Maybe now I can get to bed.