We had just eaten a lovely dinner of chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans. The boys helped clear the table, and Mike started rinsing the dishes off and putting them into the dishwasher while I put away the leftovers. Griffin wandered into the TV room, looking forward with great anticipation to the promised Wii game time with Daddy. Sammy had disappeared, because, well, there were dishes being done. And here is the conversation that followed.
It's rather deep, so you might have to read it twice to gather the full effect of the eloquent words that were spoken.
Just to set the stage properly, imagine running water and dishes clanking...
Mike: Griffin, come here and help with the dishes.
Griffin: What?
M: Huh?
G: Huh?
M: I didn't hear you.
G: What?
M: Huh? I can't hear you, come here.
By now I am cracking up, holding myself up by grasping the cabinets, my rounding belly heaving with the ho-ho-ho laughter I am not even trying to suppress. It's no wonder we keep getting these ads in the mail for hearing aids! I live in a house full of men. And I love my men dearly.
Showing posts with label Funnies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Funnies. Show all posts
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Monday, September 01, 2008
Sammy-isms
This is a conversation I had with Sammy this morning. I was in my bedroom getting dressed with the door locked. Mike was laying in bed, but he was awake, luckily, because he got to overhear this little conversation.
Griffin and Sammy were in the toy room playing with trains. Or at least they were, until...
S: (quivering voice through the door) Mooommmyyyy???
M: Yes, Sammy?
S: (still quivering, but quite a bit louder) MoooOOOMMMYYYYY?????
M: Yes, Sammy?
S: Griffin LAIIIID on meeee.
M: He did what?!?
S: He LAIIIIIIIID OOONNN MEEEEE!!!!!
M: Oh... really? Um...... did he fall asleep?
S: (with absolute certainty) Yes!
M: He did? (by this time Mike and I are both chuckling)
S: YES. And I DON'T LIKE NAPS.
The end.
Griffin and Sammy were in the toy room playing with trains. Or at least they were, until...
S: (quivering voice through the door) Mooommmyyyy???
M: Yes, Sammy?
S: (still quivering, but quite a bit louder) MoooOOOMMMYYYYY?????
M: Yes, Sammy?
S: Griffin LAIIIID on meeee.
M: He did what?!?
S: He LAIIIIIIIID OOONNN MEEEEE!!!!!
M: Oh... really? Um...... did he fall asleep?
S: (with absolute certainty) Yes!
M: He did? (by this time Mike and I are both chuckling)
S: YES. And I DON'T LIKE NAPS.
The end.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
When I Grow Up
At bathtime tonight, as the boys sat soaking in a tub full of warm bubbles, Griffin and I had this conversation.
G: When Sammy and I grow up, we're going to get married.
M: Yeah... but not to each other.
G: No, I'm going to marry you!
M: Well, that's very nice, but I'm already married to Daddy, and we can only marry one person.
G: Oh.
M: You will meet a very nice girl when you get older, and you will want to marry her!
G: And then we'll have a baby.
M: And then you can have your baby!
(background: Griffin has been talking quite a bit lately about having a baby when he gets older. He can't wait to be a Daddy!)
G: I want a boy baby.
M: You do, huh?
G: Yeah. And then I'll have to buy a crib!
M: You will need a crib. And a stroller. And a carseat. And lots of diapers. And baby food. And maybe a swing...
G: Mommy?
M: Yes, sweetie?
G: Did you see the Lego tower I made? It was so tall, it went all the way up to my neck!
And that was that.
G: When Sammy and I grow up, we're going to get married.
M: Yeah... but not to each other.
G: No, I'm going to marry you!
M: Well, that's very nice, but I'm already married to Daddy, and we can only marry one person.
G: Oh.
M: You will meet a very nice girl when you get older, and you will want to marry her!
G: And then we'll have a baby.
M: And then you can have your baby!
(background: Griffin has been talking quite a bit lately about having a baby when he gets older. He can't wait to be a Daddy!)
G: I want a boy baby.
M: You do, huh?
G: Yeah. And then I'll have to buy a crib!
M: You will need a crib. And a stroller. And a carseat. And lots of diapers. And baby food. And maybe a swing...
G: Mommy?
M: Yes, sweetie?
G: Did you see the Lego tower I made? It was so tall, it went all the way up to my neck!
And that was that.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
From the Mouths of Babes...
Babes or 4-year-olds, take your pick.
I ran out of my ultra-wonderful super-hold my-favorite-in-the-world but not-for-sensitive-scalps hairspray last weekend. This stuff is so powerful that it's the only thing I need to use in my hair to make it do what I want it to do, and it stays all day. But enough commercials.
The following conversation ensued after 3 days of no-hairspray-for-Mommy.
G=Griffin
M=Mommy
G: Mommy, your hair is yucky.
M: Wh.... what did you just say?
G: Your hair is yucky!
M: Um... okay?
G: no response
M: So. Does my hair look yucky or smell yucky? (Don't ask me why I asked him that, it was a heat-of-the-moment thing.)
G: BOTH. {no hesitation at all}
And that was the end of that conversation. I still don't have any of my uber-wonderful hairspray yet, but I'm planning to remedy that situation with a night off tomorrow night. Or maybe if Mike works from home today I'll go out during naptime, because, oh yeah, our family pictures are ready and waiting for us at Wally World's picture studio. I can't wait to see them!
I ran out of my ultra-wonderful super-hold my-favorite-in-the-world but not-for-sensitive-scalps hairspray last weekend. This stuff is so powerful that it's the only thing I need to use in my hair to make it do what I want it to do, and it stays all day. But enough commercials.
The following conversation ensued after 3 days of no-hairspray-for-Mommy.
G=Griffin
M=Mommy
G: Mommy, your hair is yucky.
M: Wh.... what did you just say?
G: Your hair is yucky!
M: Um... okay?
G: no response
M: So. Does my hair look yucky or smell yucky? (Don't ask me why I asked him that, it was a heat-of-the-moment thing.)
G: BOTH. {no hesitation at all}
And that was the end of that conversation. I still don't have any of my uber-wonderful hairspray yet, but I'm planning to remedy that situation with a night off tomorrow night. Or maybe if Mike works from home today I'll go out during naptime, because, oh yeah, our family pictures are ready and waiting for us at Wally World's picture studio. I can't wait to see them!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Take The Tongue Out Of Your Mouth And THEN Talk To Me!
Yeah. This goes right up there with "Things I never thought I would ever say in my lifetime." But apparently the impossible can and does happen (rather consistently, like on a DAILY basis) when you are dealing with children (as any parent, babysitter, nanny, teacher or child care worker can tell you). It just so happens that Griffin and Sammy get great pleasure out of sticking the Mr. Potato Head tongue into their mouths and acting like it is their tongue... they can then stick their tongue out at people and not get chastised for doing it!... it just doesn't work so well when you are attempting to carry on a conversation with them. I said it before it hit my brain what I was actually saying... and then had a good chuckle over it with Mike, Bonnie and Caleb, who were visiting for dinner. Well, Bonnie and Caleb were visiting. Mike has to eat here anyway. :)
Monday, April 21, 2008
Potty Humor
Sooooo... what do you do when you have a toilet seat sitting in your kitchen sink? What? You've never had a toilet seat sitting in your sink, you say? How gross, you say? WELL, I have a toilet seat sitting in my kitchen sink right now, and let me tell you what we do. We laugh about it. And make jokes about it. And it will keep being funny until... well, until the toilet seat isn't in the sink anymore.
So let me tell you a story. We'll call it
I'm Getting New Shelves In My Laundry Room
Mike and I have come to an agreement about laundry and dishes. He doesn't like to put the clean stuff away, and I don't like to wash the dirty stuff. So he has been doing all of the washing/drying and I have been doing all of the putting away (and I recently decided to add to my list the handwashing of the dishes that can't go in the dishwasher).
Anyway, things have been running along smoothly for several weeks, with both of us doing our jobs and even helping each other out once in a while. Basically, "helping each other out" means that Mike helped me empty the dishwasher once and I threw in a load of laundry for him once. But like I said, things have been going smoothly, so we usually don't enter into each other's territory.
Well, Mike got tired of having stuff sitting on the dryer, because when you pull the clothes out of the laundry chute they land on the top of the dryer and whatever happens to be on top of the dryer comes tumbling off and lands on your feet, or just gets mixed up in the jumble of clothes. It is very annoying, and it finally made him mad. And that is the story of how the toilet seat got broken. Oh yeah, and the story of why I am getting new shelves in my laundry room!
Huh, you say?
Well, I really have no idea how it happened, and I wasn't going to ask, but the next thing I knew, the toilet seat was in the sink. I know that strange things happen when I get angry sometimes, and Mike is very understanding and doesn't ask questions, so I figured I'd give him this one.
Anyway, that evening, just about an hour later, I was frying shells for tacos and Bonnie somehow sensed that from 15 miles away and called. Just kidding, Bonnie. It IS the second time that has happened, though. It was pretty funny. So they got a dinner invitation. And while we all sat here eating tacos and baby-watching -- Diamond was making faces in her sleep -- we kept making cracks (no pun intended) about the toilet seat sitting in our kitchen sink.
And that's pretty much the whole story. Mike has gone to Lowe's and brought back two toilet seats so far (one of the trips was when we learned that Bonnie and Caleb were coming over, and we knew that we would need a toilet seat ON the toilet in the guest bathroom if we were going to be proper hosts. Neither of the ones we have tried were the right shape, so right now the bottom half of the broken seat rests gingerly on the toilet until we can get a new one.
Apparently we have the only SQUARE toilet around here. Maybe that's something they only do in California and New York. And I'm sure that Caleb would tell us that we don't want to replace the toilet (after a long, arduous toilet-replacing episode he went through several weeks ago) unless it REALLY needs to be replaced, so we'll special order the toilet seat from CA or NY if we have to.
All right, it's almost time for me to go. I promised the boys that we could play with Play-Doh and go outside to play, not necessarily in that order, after I got done on the computer (and I said I would be done soon), and we don't break our Play-Doh promises around here.
One other thing, though. I am going to be implementing a schedule soon, and that could mean one of two things. Either it will work so well that I will have time scheduled to blog regularly (hallelujah!) or it will work so well that I will realize all of the responsibilities (there are FOUR i's in that word!?) that I have been shirking and will be so busy getting everything done that blogging will become a thing of the past, or a once-monthly venture, or some such thing. I'm hoping for the former scenario as I really enjoy blogging, but I felt I needed to give my readers fair warning.
Maybe I'll blog about the schedule! That should be interesting. And scary. I've never been good at keeping a schedule, as Mike can tell you. My "schedules" are more like "goals". If I happen to get something done that was on the schedule, I cross it off. And if I do something that wasn't on the schedule, I write it down, then cross it off. Come on, people, I know I'm not the only one who does that.
Okay, off to play outside with two little boys who are hopping around right now, trying to put their crocs on.
So let me tell you a story. We'll call it
I'm Getting New Shelves In My Laundry Room
Mike and I have come to an agreement about laundry and dishes. He doesn't like to put the clean stuff away, and I don't like to wash the dirty stuff. So he has been doing all of the washing/drying and I have been doing all of the putting away (and I recently decided to add to my list the handwashing of the dishes that can't go in the dishwasher).
Anyway, things have been running along smoothly for several weeks, with both of us doing our jobs and even helping each other out once in a while. Basically, "helping each other out" means that Mike helped me empty the dishwasher once and I threw in a load of laundry for him once. But like I said, things have been going smoothly, so we usually don't enter into each other's territory.
Well, Mike got tired of having stuff sitting on the dryer, because when you pull the clothes out of the laundry chute they land on the top of the dryer and whatever happens to be on top of the dryer comes tumbling off and lands on your feet, or just gets mixed up in the jumble of clothes. It is very annoying, and it finally made him mad. And that is the story of how the toilet seat got broken. Oh yeah, and the story of why I am getting new shelves in my laundry room!
Huh, you say?
Well, I really have no idea how it happened, and I wasn't going to ask, but the next thing I knew, the toilet seat was in the sink. I know that strange things happen when I get angry sometimes, and Mike is very understanding and doesn't ask questions, so I figured I'd give him this one.
Anyway, that evening, just about an hour later, I was frying shells for tacos and Bonnie somehow sensed that from 15 miles away and called. Just kidding, Bonnie. It IS the second time that has happened, though. It was pretty funny. So they got a dinner invitation. And while we all sat here eating tacos and baby-watching -- Diamond was making faces in her sleep -- we kept making cracks (no pun intended) about the toilet seat sitting in our kitchen sink.
And that's pretty much the whole story. Mike has gone to Lowe's and brought back two toilet seats so far (one of the trips was when we learned that Bonnie and Caleb were coming over, and we knew that we would need a toilet seat ON the toilet in the guest bathroom if we were going to be proper hosts. Neither of the ones we have tried were the right shape, so right now the bottom half of the broken seat rests gingerly on the toilet until we can get a new one.
Apparently we have the only SQUARE toilet around here. Maybe that's something they only do in California and New York. And I'm sure that Caleb would tell us that we don't want to replace the toilet (after a long, arduous toilet-replacing episode he went through several weeks ago) unless it REALLY needs to be replaced, so we'll special order the toilet seat from CA or NY if we have to.
All right, it's almost time for me to go. I promised the boys that we could play with Play-Doh and go outside to play, not necessarily in that order, after I got done on the computer (and I said I would be done soon), and we don't break our Play-Doh promises around here.
One other thing, though. I am going to be implementing a schedule soon, and that could mean one of two things. Either it will work so well that I will have time scheduled to blog regularly (hallelujah!) or it will work so well that I will realize all of the responsibilities (there are FOUR i's in that word!?) that I have been shirking and will be so busy getting everything done that blogging will become a thing of the past, or a once-monthly venture, or some such thing. I'm hoping for the former scenario as I really enjoy blogging, but I felt I needed to give my readers fair warning.
Maybe I'll blog about the schedule! That should be interesting. And scary. I've never been good at keeping a schedule, as Mike can tell you. My "schedules" are more like "goals". If I happen to get something done that was on the schedule, I cross it off. And if I do something that wasn't on the schedule, I write it down, then cross it off. Come on, people, I know I'm not the only one who does that.
Okay, off to play outside with two little boys who are hopping around right now, trying to put their crocs on.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Spider, Schmeider
We were eating lunch today, and I saw a spider on the ceiling. It was one of those "flat" ones that is about quarter-sized and can make itself almost completely flat. Strangely enough, I have never seen one anywhere but on the ceiling.
Well, being the brave soul that I am, I wanted to find out if it was alive. So I blew as hard as I could, hoping that the air flow would stir the spider and make it move.
Why, exactly, I would want to make a creepy-crawly spider MOVE, and thus creep myself out even MORE, I have no earthly idea, but I guess maybe it is just my dark side coming out. So there I was, blowing for all I was worth, and the darn thing wouldn't move!
So of course I went to the kitchen and grabbed a towel.
I proceeded to flap the towel in the general direction of the spider, preparing myself to run in the other direction (I didn't know WHICH "other" direction, just anywhere but DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH said spider) if the spider so much as lifted a toenail...er...a leg-hair?
The spider didn't move.
Griffin had been saying something -- apparently TO ME -- the whole time I had been placing myself in harm's way (because everybody knows that all spiders are aggressive and deserve to be squished) to protect him and his little brother. But the business at hand was such that it required my full attention and caused me to tune out all other noise...
"MOMMY!"
"Yes, sweetie? OH... did he just move??? Did you see him move?"
"Mommy, I think the spider is dead."
"Really? Hmmm, I don't know. He hasn't moved, and I have hit him about 30 times... you could be right."
Reluctantly, I abandoned my post beneath the might-have-crawled-his-last creepy-crawly spider, and sat back down at the table with the boys. I kept casting glances in the spider's direction, sure that he was just biding his time before he attacked us all.
"MOMMY."
"Yes, sweetie?" (I'm beginning to sense that it is hard to get my attention sometimes.)
"Mommy, I don't think that is the kind of spider that will bite us."
"Oh, honey (rather condescendingly)... ALL spiders can bite."
"Not dead ones."
WELL, I guess he told me.
Well, being the brave soul that I am, I wanted to find out if it was alive. So I blew as hard as I could, hoping that the air flow would stir the spider and make it move.
Why, exactly, I would want to make a creepy-crawly spider MOVE, and thus creep myself out even MORE, I have no earthly idea, but I guess maybe it is just my dark side coming out. So there I was, blowing for all I was worth, and the darn thing wouldn't move!
So of course I went to the kitchen and grabbed a towel.
I proceeded to flap the towel in the general direction of the spider, preparing myself to run in the other direction (I didn't know WHICH "other" direction, just anywhere but DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH said spider) if the spider so much as lifted a toenail...er...a leg-hair?
The spider didn't move.
Griffin had been saying something -- apparently TO ME -- the whole time I had been placing myself in harm's way (because everybody knows that all spiders are aggressive and deserve to be squished) to protect him and his little brother. But the business at hand was such that it required my full attention and caused me to tune out all other noise...
"MOMMY!"
"Yes, sweetie? OH... did he just move??? Did you see him move?"
"Mommy, I think the spider is dead."
"Really? Hmmm, I don't know. He hasn't moved, and I have hit him about 30 times... you could be right."
Reluctantly, I abandoned my post beneath the might-have-crawled-his-last creepy-crawly spider, and sat back down at the table with the boys. I kept casting glances in the spider's direction, sure that he was just biding his time before he attacked us all.
"MOMMY."
"Yes, sweetie?" (I'm beginning to sense that it is hard to get my attention sometimes.)
"Mommy, I don't think that is the kind of spider that will bite us."
"Oh, honey (rather condescendingly)... ALL spiders can bite."
"Not dead ones."
WELL, I guess he told me.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Sesame This, Sesame That
I asked Griffin yesterday if he had been watching Sesame Street in the TV room, and he said something that had me laughing so hard I had to drop everything and run and tell Mike, who was working from home in his basement office. Here it is:
"I don't LIKE Sesame Street," he pouted, then turned on his most charming impish grin,"I like Sesame CHICKEN!!!"
Which is true, actually, the boy knows what he likes, and sesame chicken is right up there with broccoli and olives in his "Food Favorites."
Hope it made you laugh too. :-)
"I don't LIKE Sesame Street," he pouted, then turned on his most charming impish grin,"I like Sesame CHICKEN!!!"
Which is true, actually, the boy knows what he likes, and sesame chicken is right up there with broccoli and olives in his "Food Favorites."
Hope it made you laugh too. :-)
Sammy's First Sentence
Sammy came toddling into my closet the other morning as I got ready for the day. He looked for all the world like he had something he really needed to say, and finally he just blurted it out. "He...HIT...me!!" he managed. Wow. What a first sentence! And I'm sure there will be many more to come. :)
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Excuse Me???
Sammy really likes the fireman hat that Griffin wore for Halloween. He wears it all over the place. Well, yesterday he brought it up to me to put on my head. I set it on top of my head, as it was too small to fit properly, and just then Griffin walked into the room.
He took one look at me and declared,
"Mommy, that hat doesn't do anything for you."
He took one look at me and declared,
"Mommy, that hat doesn't do anything for you."
Monday, June 25, 2007
Yay!! We get to clean!!!!!
We went to McDonald's last night to let the boys play in the play area and also to grab a quick dinner. We also thought it might be time for Week Three of the free DVDs (one free every week for four weeks from RedBox, the new McDonald's video rental place... it wasn't time yet, darn it.)
Okay, I need to set the stage a little better for this story. Let me take you back in time.
I went to a Discovery Toys party a couple of weeks ago, and ordered a bunch of really fun stuff for the boys, one of which was a frog sprinkler that you throw balls into the frog's mouth and it spits them back out at you. Well, I got my order yesterday, and Griffin spied the sprinkler and really wanted to play with it. I told him that we needed to clean up the toy room first and pick which toys we would store in the basement or give away to other children so that he doesn't have so many toys to clean up every time we clean the toy room. So he knew that as soon as he ws done helping Mommy clean up the toy room, he was going to get to discover the wonders of the frog sprinkler.
Okay, now back to McDonald's. We had eaten and they had played, and we were ready to leave. Mike caught Griffin as he came down the slide, and sat him in a nearby chair to put his Elmo sandals on. Griffin started to protest, because he would never leave if given the choice. I knelt down beside him, and to the great amusement of the family sitting at the table next to us, said "Griffin, remember? We get to go home and clean up the toy room!!!" At this, a great big grin spread over his face, and he very excitedly said "Okay, Mommy!! Yay!!!"
They must have been very amused at the poor little boy whose idea of fun was cleaning up his toys. Poor thing. What a boring life he must lead.
Okay, I need to set the stage a little better for this story. Let me take you back in time.
I went to a Discovery Toys party a couple of weeks ago, and ordered a bunch of really fun stuff for the boys, one of which was a frog sprinkler that you throw balls into the frog's mouth and it spits them back out at you. Well, I got my order yesterday, and Griffin spied the sprinkler and really wanted to play with it. I told him that we needed to clean up the toy room first and pick which toys we would store in the basement or give away to other children so that he doesn't have so many toys to clean up every time we clean the toy room. So he knew that as soon as he ws done helping Mommy clean up the toy room, he was going to get to discover the wonders of the frog sprinkler.
Okay, now back to McDonald's. We had eaten and they had played, and we were ready to leave. Mike caught Griffin as he came down the slide, and sat him in a nearby chair to put his Elmo sandals on. Griffin started to protest, because he would never leave if given the choice. I knelt down beside him, and to the great amusement of the family sitting at the table next to us, said "Griffin, remember? We get to go home and clean up the toy room!!!" At this, a great big grin spread over his face, and he very excitedly said "Okay, Mommy!! Yay!!!"
They must have been very amused at the poor little boy whose idea of fun was cleaning up his toys. Poor thing. What a boring life he must lead.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Thirty and Three
I began writing this on Friday night, after a very eventful day, and am posting it a few days late. I need to get with Bonnie to make sure I have all of the details straight, so I might update it later today after hearing what she remembers. We promised to help each other remember what happened, because it was a very memorable day and evening that neither of us want to forget!
----------------------------------
My day began (well, the exciting part, anyway) when I was opening the front blinds this morning. It was hard to miss the big cat carrier and bag of cat food sitting on the front porch. At first, I thought that maybe Bonnie and Caleb had gone out of town and left their cats with us. But then I quickly thought, no, they wouldn't do that to me... much less their cat!! I opened the front door and as soon as I saw it, I knew. There was a note on top of that cat carrier. I felt a big sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I came to the realization that someone had actually dropped their cat off on my front porch! The note was simple, yet gave all the important details about Zodiac. The sick feeling in my stomach wasn't going away, and I really couldn't handle being around him too much, because I didn't want to get attached to him. He also stank. Shallow of me, I know, but after sitting in a carrier all night, which I knew he had been because he and the carrier and the note and the bag of cat food were all soaked in rainwater, and he also had the distinct odor of... other stuff... on him. I brought him in, and Griffin kept asking me questions about where he came from, what would we do with him, was he scared, why did somebody leave him on our front porch, would we take him to the same place we took the tiny baby bunny we rescued a few weeks ago, and pretty soon I just needed to leave the house. I couldn't get ahold of anyone connected to any animal control or rescue places, and was getting frustrated. So I sent out a big mass e-mail asking if anyone knew of someone who wanted a cat, packed the boys into the van, and left the house.
When I got back home, my head had cleared, and I even had a promising e-mail from a friend who works with a lady who helps animals find adoptive homes! She will pick him up tomorrow, which means he has to put up with us for one more night, but now that I know he'll be finding a good home soon, I can rest easy. -- Just a note, today is Sunday and she still hasn't picked up Zorro yet, so we're still waiting!!
Well, the rest of the afternoon was fairly uneventful. Sammy woke up early from his nap, which is totally unlike him, so I got to spend a couple of hours with just him before Griffin, the Birthday Boy who turned three years old today, woke up. Sammy wanted to snuggle, give me lots of little puckered-lip kisses, and talk on the telephone. Yeah, it was a good afternoon. :) Bonnie and Caleb even came over (they had taken Bonnie's birthday off -- yes, it's Bonnie's birthday too, she turned thirty this year) and stayed for a while to check out Zodiac, whom I have nicknamed Zorro because of his many skillz with his claws. He can even open cabinet doors (provided they do not have child safety locks on them). He also scratches. I think he's just scared, which is completely understandable after a long, wet night away from his home, and a big, black dog who snuffles around his carrier a bit too often for his liking.
This evening was an amazingly eventful time also. Thanks to my wonderful, loving, adorable, kind-hearted sister who babysat Sammy for us (is that enough brown-nosing? I don't think so), Mike, Griffin and I got to take Bonnie and Caleb out for a wonderful dinner at Brio Tuscan Grill on the Plaza. It was interesting, to say the least!! I had made reservations for seven thirty, but we didn't end up getting to the restaurant until eight thirty because of a longer-than-usual massage (Bonnie's birthday was worth the extra time!), a very amusing jaunt up into a Plaza parking garage (we should have realized we were in for trouble when the people coming out of the garage were waving wildly at us and shouting something unintelligible) which abruptly ended when we and all of the cars following us realized that we had ended up at a wall and the only thing to do was back, caravan-style, down the curvy ramps to freedom, and then culminated in a few blocks' walk to get to the restaurant (Bonnie still didn't know where we were going, but figured it out on the walk there. Then we waited for about twenty or thirty minutes to be seated. Griffin opened his present, a Leapfrog laptop, while we waited, and it kept him entertained. We had gotten a bit tired of waiting, so Bonnie and Caleb decided to use the restrooms, which they said is a scientifically proven way to get your buzzer to go off and be shown to a table. Try it sometime. Just wait until you think you can't possibly wait another minute, and then send one or two people from your party to the restroom, and watch the magic happen. It worked for us! No sooner had they left our sight than our buzzer started lighting up and vibrating. We got a good laugh out of that. Luckily, the table we were seated at was right next to the restrooms, so Bonnie and Caleb found us easily when they came out.
So we settled ourselves in and, having already looked at the menu while waiting for a table, placed our order with our server, a nice black lady who would have had a big 'fro if it hadn't been pulled back into a cute bushy ponytail. I'll call her B, because I have no idea what her name was, and the restaurant's name started with a B. Creative, aren't I? Well, B was a good server, but I'll bet she was glad when we left. And she probably didn't laugh about our experience quite as hard as we did. Let me explain...
We waited for our food to arrive, and while we waited they brought out baskets of fresh bread, and these triangular cracker-like wafers with flax seeds and rosemary, which were so flavorful and yummy! The bread was delicious too, but there was only one minor problem. The one lonely butter pat they gave us (elegantly displayed on a clean white plate) was almost enough for Mike to butter his bread with. So we requested some more. B brought out two more pats after we had waited just long enough for the bread to cool down so that the butter wouldn't melt nicely on it anymore. We finished our drinks while waiting for our food, and B refilled our water glasses and graciously offered to bring Caleb another Dr. Pepper. Only when Caleb tasted his new drink, he made a face when he realized it was, heaven forbid, DIET, and after sniff-tests by Mike and Bonnie, it was decided that yes, it definitely was diet and would have to be replaced. Caleb told B when she came around again that he needed regular, not diet, and she graciously took the drink away and brought him his Dr. Pepper.
We had received our salads by this time, but as Bonnie and Caleb came to realize after a few bites, the kitchen had failed to leave the onions off of their salad (they had split one), as Caleb had requested. So they told B nicely that there were onions on the salads and that they would really like salads with no onions, and she, now a bit flustered, took the salads away, saying it would take them literally just a few seconds to make new salads with no onions on them. She came back a minute later, and Bonnie only found one onion in hers, so they were happy. The dressing was even put on the side, to show them that the second salad had been made especially for them.
I shared my salad with Mike and Griffin, because it was too much to eat all by myself, but boy, was it good!! I had been looking forward to this salad ever since I had been to Brio the first time, with Bonnie, several months ago. It's called Bistecca Insalata -- a big hunk of lettuce with lots of crumbled bacon, chopped tomatoes, gorgonzala cheese, and a creamy Parmesan dressing. They give you a big steak knife to cut it with. Mike and Griffin really liked it too, but I think I was the only one moaning with pleasure.
We finished our salads, with Griffin happily playing away on his new laptop. (Before you think we over-indulge our kids, let me tell you that the "laptop" only cost $19.95, less than a third of what our dinner cost, and it was worth every penny! Both the dinner and the laptop were.) The food arrived shortly after, and we dug in hungrily. Well, all of us except for Griffin. There had been a mix-up of some sort, and his much-anticipated macaroni and cheese did not arrive with everyone else's food. We asked the guy who had brought out our food, and he apologized and hurried back to the kitchen, saying he would check on it. After about five minutes, and after watching him deliver food to two other tables, we knew he wasn't going to bring out the macaroni, and we flagged B down and asked her about it. I could almost hear her growl as she scurried away from the table to track down Griffin's birthday meal. She brought it back a couple of minutes later, apologizing profusely.
We had been eating for a little while when I checked my watch to see how we were doing on time. (I had called Christy, who was babysitting Sammy, on the way to the restaurant to let her know that we wouldn't be getting back until about 9:30 because we had gotten a late start.) OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I gasped as I realized it was 9:40, ten minutes AFTER I had said we'd pick up Sammy, and we hadn't even had dessert yet! (Not to mention the fact that it would take us thirty minutes to get home, and another ten to get to her house.) We had told Griffin that we'd be getting a special dessert because we were celebrating two birthdays, and B was already planning on bringing it out to us, so we felt like we should wait for it.
I tried to call Christy at her house and at mine, thinking that maybe she had taken Sammy home and put him to bed since it was so late, but no one answered at either place, so we plodded along with our meal, getting antsier by the minute and thinking about how upset Christy would be with us because we were "taking our sweet time" while she was waiting with a child we were sure was being a holy terror.
We had requested four of our meals to be boxed up, and were waiting for both the desserts and our boxed food to be returned to us. B brought out Bonnie's boxed up pasta and my leftover pizza, and then asked if Griffin was done eating yet. Well, poor Griffin had received his macaroni much later than the rest of us, and then had to wait for it to cool down before beginning to eat. His reaction when I attempted to steal his plate: hold on for dear life and don't let her take it away!!! I started to pick it up and asked as I did so "Are you done, Griffin?" He looked shocked and quickly said "NO!" and grabbed his plate. He drew it back toward him and calmly set it back on the table as we all cracked up, holding our sides and laughing.
We discussed what flavors of gelato we wanted, and settled on raspberry sorbet for Bonnie and Caleb, and mocha for, erm, well, for "Griffin". And me. It was SO GOOD. I would go back just for the mocha gelato! And Griffin's mac 'n cheese was pretty darn tasty too. Even the second time around. Yes, I ate his leftovers for lunch the next day. Tee Hee!! I gave him a few noodles, don't worry, he wasn't deprived. But we almost didn't get to take our mac 'n cheese leftovers home with us, because B forgot to bring it back to the table. When she came to bring us the bill, I asked her about the leftovers, and she once again hurried off to the kitchen, bringing them back a few minutes later. It's a good thing it took her a few minutes, because otherwise she would have heard Caleb's hilarious comment, followed by various sound effects and uproarious laughter, about how it probably wouldn't matter if Griffin's leftovers had been thrown away, because they most likely had a big vat of mac 'n cheese just bubbling away back there in the kitchen. (This might only make Bonnie and Caleb laugh, but I have to...Bloop.)
----------------------------------
My day began (well, the exciting part, anyway) when I was opening the front blinds this morning. It was hard to miss the big cat carrier and bag of cat food sitting on the front porch. At first, I thought that maybe Bonnie and Caleb had gone out of town and left their cats with us. But then I quickly thought, no, they wouldn't do that to me... much less their cat!! I opened the front door and as soon as I saw it, I knew. There was a note on top of that cat carrier. I felt a big sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I came to the realization that someone had actually dropped their cat off on my front porch! The note was simple, yet gave all the important details about Zodiac. The sick feeling in my stomach wasn't going away, and I really couldn't handle being around him too much, because I didn't want to get attached to him. He also stank. Shallow of me, I know, but after sitting in a carrier all night, which I knew he had been because he and the carrier and the note and the bag of cat food were all soaked in rainwater, and he also had the distinct odor of... other stuff... on him. I brought him in, and Griffin kept asking me questions about where he came from, what would we do with him, was he scared, why did somebody leave him on our front porch, would we take him to the same place we took the tiny baby bunny we rescued a few weeks ago, and pretty soon I just needed to leave the house. I couldn't get ahold of anyone connected to any animal control or rescue places, and was getting frustrated. So I sent out a big mass e-mail asking if anyone knew of someone who wanted a cat, packed the boys into the van, and left the house.
When I got back home, my head had cleared, and I even had a promising e-mail from a friend who works with a lady who helps animals find adoptive homes! She will pick him up tomorrow, which means he has to put up with us for one more night, but now that I know he'll be finding a good home soon, I can rest easy. -- Just a note, today is Sunday and she still hasn't picked up Zorro yet, so we're still waiting!!
Well, the rest of the afternoon was fairly uneventful. Sammy woke up early from his nap, which is totally unlike him, so I got to spend a couple of hours with just him before Griffin, the Birthday Boy who turned three years old today, woke up. Sammy wanted to snuggle, give me lots of little puckered-lip kisses, and talk on the telephone. Yeah, it was a good afternoon. :) Bonnie and Caleb even came over (they had taken Bonnie's birthday off -- yes, it's Bonnie's birthday too, she turned thirty this year) and stayed for a while to check out Zodiac, whom I have nicknamed Zorro because of his many skillz with his claws. He can even open cabinet doors (provided they do not have child safety locks on them). He also scratches. I think he's just scared, which is completely understandable after a long, wet night away from his home, and a big, black dog who snuffles around his carrier a bit too often for his liking.
This evening was an amazingly eventful time also. Thanks to my wonderful, loving, adorable, kind-hearted sister who babysat Sammy for us (is that enough brown-nosing? I don't think so), Mike, Griffin and I got to take Bonnie and Caleb out for a wonderful dinner at Brio Tuscan Grill on the Plaza. It was interesting, to say the least!! I had made reservations for seven thirty, but we didn't end up getting to the restaurant until eight thirty because of a longer-than-usual massage (Bonnie's birthday was worth the extra time!), a very amusing jaunt up into a Plaza parking garage (we should have realized we were in for trouble when the people coming out of the garage were waving wildly at us and shouting something unintelligible) which abruptly ended when we and all of the cars following us realized that we had ended up at a wall and the only thing to do was back, caravan-style, down the curvy ramps to freedom, and then culminated in a few blocks' walk to get to the restaurant (Bonnie still didn't know where we were going, but figured it out on the walk there. Then we waited for about twenty or thirty minutes to be seated. Griffin opened his present, a Leapfrog laptop, while we waited, and it kept him entertained. We had gotten a bit tired of waiting, so Bonnie and Caleb decided to use the restrooms, which they said is a scientifically proven way to get your buzzer to go off and be shown to a table. Try it sometime. Just wait until you think you can't possibly wait another minute, and then send one or two people from your party to the restroom, and watch the magic happen. It worked for us! No sooner had they left our sight than our buzzer started lighting up and vibrating. We got a good laugh out of that. Luckily, the table we were seated at was right next to the restrooms, so Bonnie and Caleb found us easily when they came out.
So we settled ourselves in and, having already looked at the menu while waiting for a table, placed our order with our server, a nice black lady who would have had a big 'fro if it hadn't been pulled back into a cute bushy ponytail. I'll call her B, because I have no idea what her name was, and the restaurant's name started with a B. Creative, aren't I? Well, B was a good server, but I'll bet she was glad when we left. And she probably didn't laugh about our experience quite as hard as we did. Let me explain...
We waited for our food to arrive, and while we waited they brought out baskets of fresh bread, and these triangular cracker-like wafers with flax seeds and rosemary, which were so flavorful and yummy! The bread was delicious too, but there was only one minor problem. The one lonely butter pat they gave us (elegantly displayed on a clean white plate) was almost enough for Mike to butter his bread with. So we requested some more. B brought out two more pats after we had waited just long enough for the bread to cool down so that the butter wouldn't melt nicely on it anymore. We finished our drinks while waiting for our food, and B refilled our water glasses and graciously offered to bring Caleb another Dr. Pepper. Only when Caleb tasted his new drink, he made a face when he realized it was, heaven forbid, DIET, and after sniff-tests by Mike and Bonnie, it was decided that yes, it definitely was diet and would have to be replaced. Caleb told B when she came around again that he needed regular, not diet, and she graciously took the drink away and brought him his Dr. Pepper.
We had received our salads by this time, but as Bonnie and Caleb came to realize after a few bites, the kitchen had failed to leave the onions off of their salad (they had split one), as Caleb had requested. So they told B nicely that there were onions on the salads and that they would really like salads with no onions, and she, now a bit flustered, took the salads away, saying it would take them literally just a few seconds to make new salads with no onions on them. She came back a minute later, and Bonnie only found one onion in hers, so they were happy. The dressing was even put on the side, to show them that the second salad had been made especially for them.
I shared my salad with Mike and Griffin, because it was too much to eat all by myself, but boy, was it good!! I had been looking forward to this salad ever since I had been to Brio the first time, with Bonnie, several months ago. It's called Bistecca Insalata -- a big hunk of lettuce with lots of crumbled bacon, chopped tomatoes, gorgonzala cheese, and a creamy Parmesan dressing. They give you a big steak knife to cut it with. Mike and Griffin really liked it too, but I think I was the only one moaning with pleasure.
We finished our salads, with Griffin happily playing away on his new laptop. (Before you think we over-indulge our kids, let me tell you that the "laptop" only cost $19.95, less than a third of what our dinner cost, and it was worth every penny! Both the dinner and the laptop were.) The food arrived shortly after, and we dug in hungrily. Well, all of us except for Griffin. There had been a mix-up of some sort, and his much-anticipated macaroni and cheese did not arrive with everyone else's food. We asked the guy who had brought out our food, and he apologized and hurried back to the kitchen, saying he would check on it. After about five minutes, and after watching him deliver food to two other tables, we knew he wasn't going to bring out the macaroni, and we flagged B down and asked her about it. I could almost hear her growl as she scurried away from the table to track down Griffin's birthday meal. She brought it back a couple of minutes later, apologizing profusely.
We had been eating for a little while when I checked my watch to see how we were doing on time. (I had called Christy, who was babysitting Sammy, on the way to the restaurant to let her know that we wouldn't be getting back until about 9:30 because we had gotten a late start.) OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I gasped as I realized it was 9:40, ten minutes AFTER I had said we'd pick up Sammy, and we hadn't even had dessert yet! (Not to mention the fact that it would take us thirty minutes to get home, and another ten to get to her house.) We had told Griffin that we'd be getting a special dessert because we were celebrating two birthdays, and B was already planning on bringing it out to us, so we felt like we should wait for it.
I tried to call Christy at her house and at mine, thinking that maybe she had taken Sammy home and put him to bed since it was so late, but no one answered at either place, so we plodded along with our meal, getting antsier by the minute and thinking about how upset Christy would be with us because we were "taking our sweet time" while she was waiting with a child we were sure was being a holy terror.
We had requested four of our meals to be boxed up, and were waiting for both the desserts and our boxed food to be returned to us. B brought out Bonnie's boxed up pasta and my leftover pizza, and then asked if Griffin was done eating yet. Well, poor Griffin had received his macaroni much later than the rest of us, and then had to wait for it to cool down before beginning to eat. His reaction when I attempted to steal his plate: hold on for dear life and don't let her take it away!!! I started to pick it up and asked as I did so "Are you done, Griffin?" He looked shocked and quickly said "NO!" and grabbed his plate. He drew it back toward him and calmly set it back on the table as we all cracked up, holding our sides and laughing.
We discussed what flavors of gelato we wanted, and settled on raspberry sorbet for Bonnie and Caleb, and mocha for, erm, well, for "Griffin". And me. It was SO GOOD. I would go back just for the mocha gelato! And Griffin's mac 'n cheese was pretty darn tasty too. Even the second time around. Yes, I ate his leftovers for lunch the next day. Tee Hee!! I gave him a few noodles, don't worry, he wasn't deprived. But we almost didn't get to take our mac 'n cheese leftovers home with us, because B forgot to bring it back to the table. When she came to bring us the bill, I asked her about the leftovers, and she once again hurried off to the kitchen, bringing them back a few minutes later. It's a good thing it took her a few minutes, because otherwise she would have heard Caleb's hilarious comment, followed by various sound effects and uproarious laughter, about how it probably wouldn't matter if Griffin's leftovers had been thrown away, because they most likely had a big vat of mac 'n cheese just bubbling away back there in the kitchen. (This might only make Bonnie and Caleb laugh, but I have to...Bloop.)
We finished our gelato and waited and waited and waited, and finally she brought back Mike's credit card and our leftovers (apparently NOT from the big vat, because she brought back Mike's leftovers too, which I had forgotten about) so that we could sign and leave. Mike made it a point to go talk to her as we were packing up. He made sure she knew that we appreciated her service. She apologized profusely for everything that had gone wrong, but he assured her that it had been a fun experience for all of us, and that we knew she had done everything in her power to serve us well. She got a good tip.
We walked back to the van and climbed in. As I strapped Griffin into his seat, he looked at me with sleepy eyes and said "Mommy, I'm tired." If you know Griffin, you are probably laughing your head off right now, because he never EVER admits that he is tired.
Okay, just when you think the story is over, it gets even better.
So we're driving away from the restaurant, and this dude in a dark van is leaning out of his driver's side window *While He's Driving* -- I'm talking both shoulders and his head outside the van while he's going 50 miles an hour -- "with his elbow hanging down to the hubcap," as Bonnie put it. We debated for a minute whether it was his hand or his elbow, because it was hanging down so far that for the average person, it would have been the appropriate place for a hand, but as we got closer to him we realized it was, in fact, his elbow! He must have been rather tall. He appeared to be following a little red car full of teenage girls. They didn't seem to acknowledge the fact that he was risking life and, uh, "limb" (sorry, I couldn't resist) to stay as close to them as possible. Fortunately for us (and our amusement), the red car and the van turned onto the highway with us. As the van passed us, I got a good look at the Hangman, and we laughed all over again as we caught the deathly serious look on his face, combined with dark sunglasses!! The car and van switched places a lot; sometimes the red car would take the lead and sometimes the dark van would be in front. It was like a curious gangly teenage sunglass-wearing dance. We laughed the entire way home.
Griffin must have been kept awake by our talk of the Hangman, because he was still awake when we pulled into the driveway. Mike went to Christy's house to pick up Sammy. I had talked to Christy on our walk back to the van after we got done eating, and she had assured me that Sammy had been asleep since nine. I still felt bad, because I knew we were keeping her up way past her bedtime. Anyway, as I took Griffin's shoes off and prepared to take him upstairs, he looked me in the eye and asked "Mommy, can I go night-night now?"
"Yes," I assured him, "now you can go night-night". It was eleven o'clock.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
But Mommy!
So we're sitting at dinner the other night, and Mike and I are talking away. Actually, I am talking away, and Mike is listening, which is the typical scenario.
Griffin really wants to contribute to the conversation, so he is making noise, trying to get our attention away from each other and onto him. Well, I don't like to be interrupted. I like to be the center of attention, too, for goodness' sake!
"Griffin!!!" I shouted. I had to shout, because his noise-making was a few decibels louder than a jet plane flying directly over the dinner table.
The noises stopped.
"If you need to say something while Mommy and Daddy are talking," I proclaimed, "you don't just interrupt us, or make loud noises. You need to say "Excuse me!""
I was attempting to look parental and wise, instead of displaying how I really felt -- like an annoyed little girl.
Griffin stopped making noise, and was about to concede the point and say "okay"... his mouth had already formed into an "O"...
And then he stopped.
"But Mommy!" he exclaimed, with a look of confusion creeping over him, "I didn't burp yet!"
Griffin really wants to contribute to the conversation, so he is making noise, trying to get our attention away from each other and onto him. Well, I don't like to be interrupted. I like to be the center of attention, too, for goodness' sake!
"Griffin!!!" I shouted. I had to shout, because his noise-making was a few decibels louder than a jet plane flying directly over the dinner table.
The noises stopped.
"If you need to say something while Mommy and Daddy are talking," I proclaimed, "you don't just interrupt us, or make loud noises. You need to say "Excuse me!""
I was attempting to look parental and wise, instead of displaying how I really felt -- like an annoyed little girl.
Griffin stopped making noise, and was about to concede the point and say "okay"... his mouth had already formed into an "O"...
And then he stopped.
"But Mommy!" he exclaimed, with a look of confusion creeping over him, "I didn't burp yet!"
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Her arm is... where???
Okay, I just realized that it appears as though Bonnie has an extra arm in the picture I posted with her in it. Sorry, Bonnie! Hopefully you don't run for office someday. That picture might come back to haunt you. But isn't she cute?
Bonnie's Lemon "Lick-The-Floor-Clean" Cake
Bonnie makes a fantastic homemade lemon cake that has four scrumptious layers of lemon curd sandwiched between moist lemon cakey goodness, topped off with a mountain of fresh whipped cream and sweet-tart berries. It is the picture of perfection, and I'll post some pictures of the actual cake when she sends some to me (hint, hint!!). She made one for Valentine's Day, and our family got to come over for the first-ever Lemon Licking Cake Tasting! No, it's not actually called "Licking" cake, I just made that up.
She came to our house a few weekends ago and baked two more of these delectible perfectionisms (hey, it's a word now!) for a baby shower while we listened to the audiobook The Secret, which I will write more about later. When the cake was done, she whipped the cream. As she transferred a spoon coated in whipped cream across the kitchen floor, two things happened. First, a small "plop!" Next, two small boys plastered themselves on the floor to lick up the results of the plop. The floor was clean, by the way. Or I could say... the floor WAS clean.
Sammy was especially excited about the prospect of actually licking the floor!! And when he graduated to licking the whipped cream spoon itself, he was in High Heaven. Until Bonnie (oooops) accidentally dropped (after a couple of firm shakes of her wrist) another plop on the floor.
She had to do this, as my camera had needed new batteries and the first plop-licking was un-photographable. But my new camera batteries were raring to go, so her ploppings were photographed with delight. Oh, that sounds so wrong...
We were all bent over laughing by the time the whipped cream was all licked up.
And two little boys can't wait to taste Bonnie's Ploppings again.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
For Caleb
So we're on our way home from the American Indoor Sports Arena last night, where we went to walk around and watch the people and kids (not that kids aren't people) play soccer.
Mike says "Griffin, what does the cow say?" and Griffin says "Eat More Chikin!" just like the good boy that we taught him to be. Actually this time we had wanted him to say "moo", because Sammy tries to say it now (it comes out "mmMMm") whenever he hears someone else saying it, and we wanted to hear Sammy try to say it so we could laugh at him.
"No, what does the REAL cow say?" we asked Griffin.
"Moo" he said after a moment's hesitation. We really should stop confusing him, but it's just so darned funny!
Than Mike said, "Griffin, do you know what Caleb says?"
Griffin went silent.
"Caleb says "Get a Garmin, or get lost!" can you say that? "Get a Garmin, or get lost!""
Griffin ponders things for a little bit, while Mike and I repeat this phrase over and over so that he can become very familiar with it before saying it back to us.
I stop talking and shush Mike, because I think he's finally ready to say it.
The golden moment has arrived!
"Get a Garmin, and GET LOST!"
We laughed all the way home.
Mike says "Griffin, what does the cow say?" and Griffin says "Eat More Chikin!" just like the good boy that we taught him to be. Actually this time we had wanted him to say "moo", because Sammy tries to say it now (it comes out "mmMMm") whenever he hears someone else saying it, and we wanted to hear Sammy try to say it so we could laugh at him.
"No, what does the REAL cow say?" we asked Griffin.
"Moo" he said after a moment's hesitation. We really should stop confusing him, but it's just so darned funny!
Than Mike said, "Griffin, do you know what Caleb says?"
Griffin went silent.
"Caleb says "Get a Garmin, or get lost!" can you say that? "Get a Garmin, or get lost!""
Griffin ponders things for a little bit, while Mike and I repeat this phrase over and over so that he can become very familiar with it before saying it back to us.
I stop talking and shush Mike, because I think he's finally ready to say it.
The golden moment has arrived!
"Get a Garmin, and GET LOST!"
We laughed all the way home.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Skunk Virgin No More
As of this evening at about 8:30 pm, I had never in my 26-year-old life smelled a skunk. Not once. Not even when everyone else in the car was screaming and coughing and hacking and crying and holding their noses and rolling down the windows, then quickly rolling them back up again. I simply did not understand what the big fuss was all about.
Sometimes, growing up, Mom and Dad would say they smelled one in the neighborhood, or even outside our house, and as they closed all of the windows, my sister and I (she's still a Skunk Virgin) would scoff and laugh at the silly people who reacted so strongly to something so minor as a cute little cuddly furry skunk. Fast-forward to this evening.
We were innocently driving home from a lovely marriage presentation (seminar? talk? lecture? class?) that the pastor and his wife had put together for us (well, not just us) at church. We were almost to our street when off of the median jumped a cute little cuddly furry skunk, who proceeded to run right under the van and stop as we drove over him. We heard a couple of very small noises coming from under the van, and then there was this big crack in the universe, as my Skunk Virginity came to an end. It was all over. And I will regret this in the morning.
No, we (or, I should say, Mike) did not kill the insipid little varmint. Oh, no. He got to toddle off into the already set sun as I died a slow death knowing that my life would never again be quite the same. My innocence has been destroyed. I will never see life in the same way ever again. My nose hath been corrupted.
I can't wait to go to the car wash tomorrow and ask for a tomato bath.
Sometimes, growing up, Mom and Dad would say they smelled one in the neighborhood, or even outside our house, and as they closed all of the windows, my sister and I (she's still a Skunk Virgin) would scoff and laugh at the silly people who reacted so strongly to something so minor as a cute little cuddly furry skunk. Fast-forward to this evening.
We were innocently driving home from a lovely marriage presentation (seminar? talk? lecture? class?) that the pastor and his wife had put together for us (well, not just us) at church. We were almost to our street when off of the median jumped a cute little cuddly furry skunk, who proceeded to run right under the van and stop as we drove over him. We heard a couple of very small noises coming from under the van, and then there was this big crack in the universe, as my Skunk Virginity came to an end. It was all over. And I will regret this in the morning.
No, we (or, I should say, Mike) did not kill the insipid little varmint. Oh, no. He got to toddle off into the already set sun as I died a slow death knowing that my life would never again be quite the same. My innocence has been destroyed. I will never see life in the same way ever again. My nose hath been corrupted.
I can't wait to go to the car wash tomorrow and ask for a tomato bath.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Bathroom News
So the toilet paper dispenser-holder-spring-thing went missing from the bathroom a couple of weeks ago, and about a week and a half ago I noticed that the water wasn't draining properly from the sink. Hmmmm... Guess what Mike found in the sink drain pipe today?
Monday, January 08, 2007
Griffin's First Pictures
No, they're not pictures OF Griffin, they are the first pictures he took all by himself. The first one is one of me at the computer in my skirt (!) and the second one is... well, it must be "the view from down there" or some such thing. Anyway, he had fun taking them! :)
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