A Side of Rice

Hopefully Humorous (and sometimes R-rated) Musings About Life


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I should have known that when I left for Puerto Vallarta last week in the middle of a snow event, there would be a down side when I got home. Turns out that when you leave three men (one husband, two sons) in a house by themselves, it’s gonna turn into a bit of a man cave. Even in spite of our female dog’s best efforts to represent the estrogen nation.

I can’t complain too much, as my trip was work related and included plenty of time to enjoy the sun by the pool. However, I thought I would share the difference between being in paradise vs. not being in paradise. In case you were unsure, not paradise would be my home morphing into a man cave back in the States.

Paradise Food
Coco Loco Drink Food in paradise consists of fruit. Fruit and liquor. More importantly, fruit decorating your liquor. This fantastic concoction is called a CocoLoco. It is comprised of rum, tequila (and some other liquor I can’t remember, go figure), coconut milk and lime juice. It’s served in a coconut husk. When you are finished, they will cut up the husk so you can eat the liquor-infused coconut “meat”. This drink spawned the best quote of the trip – “it’s too big for me to pass around, so you’re just gonna have to come over here to suck it“.

Non-paradise Food
While CheezIts are certainly an interesting decorative touch, nothing says “yum-o” like a stack of dirty dishes. Piled on top of the printer. Upon closer inspection, I believe it was the remnants of a bowl of chocolate ice cream, a bowl with three-day-old Spaghetti-O slime and a plate that held something with grape jelly on it.

Paradise Clothing
In spite of the fact that my sister is (mercifully) not very Jerseylicious, she does rock a zebra-striped bikini. However, given our perpensity to burn as immediately and as often as Bic lighter at a Grateful Dead concert, we spend most of the time under the umbrella, wrapped in saris, blankets and other cover ups. Which is probably why we remain so paste-y white. But who the hell cares if you are paste-y white…as long as you are poolside in paradise. In your zebra-striped bikini. Slurping down a CocoLoco.

Non-paradise Clothing

I guess I should just be grateful that the whites were separated from the colors. However, I was none-too-grateful that 3 baskets of clean laundry were just sitting there mocking me in the laundry room upon my return home. Including a load in the dryer and yet another load in the washer that would need a second (third?) trip through the full wash cycle. Is anyone else (besides me) of the mindset that “doing the laundry” includes all the steps and not just the ones up to fold and put away?

Paradise’s Sweeping Views
This was the panoramic view of sunset from my hotel room balcony. With the surf crashing onto the beach, the warmth of the afternoon glowing on my skin, and the buzz of the CocoLoco still dancing through my bloodstream, all I have to say about this view is……ahhh….


Sweeping Non-paradise Snow
This is the damn broken broom I nearly snapped my neck on when I finally returned home from the airport at 2:00 am. Thanks for not leaving the porch lights on, fellas — otherwise I may have missed the opportunity to step on both pieces of it and drop everything I was trying to carry in the door. Evidently, the broom was used to remove heavy snow from our giant cedar trees in the front yard. The snow proved too heavy, the weight of it bending — and eventually breaking — the handle of the broom. I’m guessing the boys left it right on the walkway so that we wouldn’t forget to put it in the trash for the next garbage pickup.

I need that recipe for CocoLoco – STAT!


Author: A Side of Rice

Married, mom, marketing professional. Loves swearing, pedicures and celebrity meltdowns. Hates making dinner and working the little league concession stand.

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