Today included one of those magical afternoons where my boys had a baseball game at one place and my daughter had soccer practice at the same time in another.
We arrived at the baseball field 15 minutes before the opening pitch.
"I am amazing," I said as I patted myself on my back.
That was before Cortlen and Kellen opened up their baseball bags.
"There's nothing in here!" they cried in unison. That wasn't exactly true. One of the bags contained a cracked water bottle and several candy wrappers.
"Where are your baseball gloves and hats?" I shrieked. "And cups?"
Cortlen remembered that he put his baseball glove under the bathroom sink for safe keeping. Kellen had no idea what I was talking about.
"Am I supposed to be wearing cleats?" My daughter picked the perfect time to mention that she had forgotten her soccer shoes at home.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived back at the baseball field with 2 baseball gloves, 1 baseball cap, and 1 cup. The rest of the gear is officially AWOL.
We had to flip coins to see who got to wear the hat. The winner gloated and pranced onto the field. The loser told me that he was never speaking to me again.
My daughter interrupted the diatribe to make a confession. She was really sorry, but she left her soccer cleats on top of the dryer back at the house. While the rest of us were running around like crazy trying to find the missing sports gear, she was petting the cat.
May 11, 2011
May 9, 2011
Fish Killers
Kellen's fish tank has been unoccupied for almost a year. On Saturday night, we handed over the space to three new tenants: Optimus Prime 1, Optimus Prime 2, and Optimus Prime 3.
Creativity isn't our strong suit.
All of the tenants were alive when we purchased them at the pet store. They were still alive when we put them into the tank an hour later.
Unfortunately, none of the tenants made it through the night.
By the time we made it to the kids' bedroom, the funeral program had already been put together.
For inexplicable reasons, the corpses were laid out in a row on the bathroom counter.
"Flush 'em," I ordered.
My husband would have none of it. Instead, he wrapped the bodies in paper towels, stuffed them in plastic ziploc sandwich bags, and shoved them into the freezer.
"You don't expect me to try to cook them, do you?" I asked nervously.
My husband has deluded himself into thinking that he is going to take the $2.00 creatures back to the store and they will give him new ones.
"There's a three day guarantee," he said.
"They all died at the same time," I reminded him. All fingers pointed to us as the murderers.
My husband looked out the window.
The truth comes slow to some.
Creativity isn't our strong suit.
All of the tenants were alive when we purchased them at the pet store. They were still alive when we put them into the tank an hour later.
Unfortunately, none of the tenants made it through the night.
By the time we made it to the kids' bedroom, the funeral program had already been put together.
For inexplicable reasons, the corpses were laid out in a row on the bathroom counter.
"Flush 'em," I ordered.
My husband would have none of it. Instead, he wrapped the bodies in paper towels, stuffed them in plastic ziploc sandwich bags, and shoved them into the freezer.
"You don't expect me to try to cook them, do you?" I asked nervously.
My husband has deluded himself into thinking that he is going to take the $2.00 creatures back to the store and they will give him new ones.
"There's a three day guarantee," he said.
"They all died at the same time," I reminded him. All fingers pointed to us as the murderers.
My husband looked out the window.
The truth comes slow to some.
May 8, 2011
May 6, 2011
The Guinea Pig
My husband and I just got back from Peru late last night. While we were there, I ate a guinea pig.
I ponied up and ordered the local delicacy for two reasons: a) Consuming any type of rodent equals instant popularity with two seven year-old boys b) It gives me something to insert into the awkward silences at dinner parties.
"By a show of hands, who else in the room has eaten a household pet?"
If I ever get invited to a party, I'm going to be very popular.
As predicted, my offspring bowed down in homage when I showed them the pictures:
I was also not surprised by the reaction of the ladies at the bus stop. These women, who already held me in high regard, now think that I'm the coolest thing on the planet.
"If what your son told my son is true," one mom said after marching up to me, "That's revolting."
I smiled and bared my teeth, trying hard to imitate the expression of the critter in my belly.
"That is totally disgusting," added another mom said. Her lip curled up around her teeth like a horse.
I have to admit that I felt slightly annoyed. I didn't remember asking either of these ladies for their opinions. My husband told me that things like this happen when you are (in)famous.
"I told my whole class what you did," Kellen said proudly.
"That wasn't necessary," I replied, uneasily.
"Can we get a guinea pig for a pet?" he continued.
"No." Suddenly, my good idea seemed like a bad one.
"Oh right," he said. "You might eat it."
Suspicion confirmed.
April 29, 2011
Hi Everybody!
Thank you so much for reading my blog. Really. Writing this blog is really fun for me, but it's also a privilege that I don't take lightly. In a lot of ways, blog posts are modern day messages in a bottle: you toss them into the ocean that is the Internet without knowing who will find them and where they will end up. One of the things I like best about my blog is learning about its readers and, specifically, who they are and where they live. More often than not, the answers are not at all what I expect. You are grandmothers, sorority girls, high school students, and newlyweds. You live all over the United States, as well as in India, Japan, Africa, and the Middle East. One of you walked up to me in Target last week and introduced yourself; another sent me an email asking me where I lived in Orlando. As it turned out, our kids go to the same school!
I don't say this nearly enough, but THANK YOU. I love getting your emails; they brighten my day, make me laugh, and more than once, have said things that I needed to hear at exactly that moment in my life. How do you always know?
In other news, I'm leaving later today for a research trip to Peru. I won't have Internet access while I'm away, so sadly, I won't be posting for the next few days. See y'all in a week!
Thank you so much for reading my blog. Really. Writing this blog is really fun for me, but it's also a privilege that I don't take lightly. In a lot of ways, blog posts are modern day messages in a bottle: you toss them into the ocean that is the Internet without knowing who will find them and where they will end up. One of the things I like best about my blog is learning about its readers and, specifically, who they are and where they live. More often than not, the answers are not at all what I expect. You are grandmothers, sorority girls, high school students, and newlyweds. You live all over the United States, as well as in India, Japan, Africa, and the Middle East. One of you walked up to me in Target last week and introduced yourself; another sent me an email asking me where I lived in Orlando. As it turned out, our kids go to the same school!
I don't say this nearly enough, but THANK YOU. I love getting your emails; they brighten my day, make me laugh, and more than once, have said things that I needed to hear at exactly that moment in my life. How do you always know?
In other news, I'm leaving later today for a research trip to Peru. I won't have Internet access while I'm away, so sadly, I won't be posting for the next few days. See y'all in a week!
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