HoosierGirl5 has been on a meme roll!! I stole this from her...
1. How old will you be in five years? 49 (about to turn 50 - yikes!)
2. Whom did you spend at least two hours with today? Darling Man and Z-boy!
3. How tall are you? 5 feet, 4 inches (I'm shrinking!)
4. What do you look forward to most in the next six months? An actual, honest to God vacation! And getting settled in this house or another one for the next few YEARS.
5. What’s the last movie you saw in the theater? Arthur and the Invisibles
6. Who was the last person you called? Darling Man
7. Who was the last person to call you? Darling Man, again!
8. Who was the last text message you received from? A what? Ha-ha. Yes I know what a text message is. I have absolutely no idea how to do it though and wouldn't know what to do with one if I got one!
9. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? The auto loan people. I have got to get the title to the car we bought two years ago to them!
10. Do you prefer to call or text? Um... see #8 for THAT answer.
11. What were you doing at 12 A.M. last night/this morning? Sleeping (hurray!)
12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced? My parents are married. They will have been married 46 years this Sunday.
13. When is the last time you saw your mom? Today! We had lunch and went shopping.
14. What color are your eyes? Blue. My entire family has blue eyes!
15. What time did you get up today? 6:40am
16. What are you wearing right now? Black sweat pants, green t-shirt, white socks.
17. What is your favorite song? Unwritten
18. Where is your favorite place to be? Home
19. Where is your least favorite place to be? In a crowded mall (today's venture was very UNcrowded!)
20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere? Somewhere with snow
21. Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years? Oooo... I don't know. I hope to be living in a nice house, with quiet neighbors, a bit of land. Z-boy will be finishing up high school and making decisions about his life as an adult. And we'll be FREE!!!!
22. Do you tan or burn? Can you say "Lobster-girl"? No tanning here.
23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? Darth Vader. And I kind of hoped so too.
24. What was the last thing that really made you laugh? I can't think of a specific thing, but my cousin Liane can make me hold my middle and gasp for air over the stupidest things....
25. How many TVs do you have in your house? Two - both analog.
26. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer? 1 desktop
27. Do you sleep with or without clothes on? With clothes. It feels too vulnerable without. Plus, I don't keep my house very warm.
28. What color are your sheets? Light green right now.
29. How many pillows do you sleep with? I need two but prefer three or four. GERD has made the number go up recently. If my husband gets to bed before me, he uses ALL of them (we have six) and I have to gently tug some out for myself.
30. What is your favorite season? Late Fall into Winter
31. What do you like about autumn? Snap in the air, the smell of dried leaves, cozy clothes and hot cocoa
32. What do you like about winter? Warm comforters to sleep under, boots, seeing my breath in the mornings
33. What do you like about the summer? Tough one. I don't like summer. I'd have to say AC and fans
34. What do you like about spring? The world waking up
35. How many states have you lived in? Two - Florida and Oklahoma
36. How many cities/towns have you lived in? Two
37. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet? Bare feet
38. Are you a social person? No. A hermit has more of a social life
39. What was the last thing you ate? Reheated fried chicken breast (took skin off)
40. What is your favorite ice cream? Chocolate Chip (with the little tiny chips, not the chunks)
41. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J sandwich? Guava
42. Do you like Chinese food? Yes - but it doesn't like me. Unless it's chicken lo mein from the corner...
43. Do you like coffee? Yes, with hazelnut creamer
44. How many glasses of water per day do you drink on average? On a bad day 1-2, on a good day, 6-8
45. What do you drink in the morning? Coffee then water
46. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed? No - but I have to sleep facing the outside of the bed. Can't sleep facing the middle.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Tour of Homes - Part 1
On the day my son and I went to see Litchgate, we drove around town looking at most of the houses I'd lived in. Since I was born here, and I was the first in a growing family, we lived in A LOT of houses.
Z-boy enjoyed my stories about living in each of those houses so much that I decided to do a written version of that tour, house by house.
The first couple of houses I lived in, I don't remember. But I remember Florida Avenue. I think I was maybe three or four.
It was a tiny house, really. Two bedrooms. One for Mom and Dad, one for me and John and Jerry. The three of us were only 16 months apart from each other. I think we moved to the next house not too long after Jerry was born.
This was the house with the secret park. It's a tiny place stuck in the middle of a block behind back yards - the hub of the wheel, so to speak. I was so thrilled that I actually found the place the day Z-boy and I went looking for it.
I remember Mr. Dan, who lived behind us. He had a really cool retaining wall in his backyard, which we thought was most entertaining. Okay - yes, we were very small - and you can find some very odd things interesting when you are new. I don't remember exactly what it WAS that made the wall cool, I just remember that it was.
I also remember that we had a short set of concrete steps going out the back door of our house. It had galvanized steel pipe handrails. For some bizarre reason, we thought it was the perfect stagecoach. So my brothers and I would hang out on the concrete steps and play "Gunsmoke". I was Miss Kitty (aged 4), of course, and my brother John (at age 3) was Marshall Dillon, and Jerry (age 1 1/2) got to be Festus.
And when I was telling Z-boy this, he asked me what a stagecoach was. What was "Gunsmoke"? Who's Miss Kitty? What did she do? What was a Festus?
Well, son... a stagecoach was kind of like a minivan pulled by horses. "Gunsmoke" was a tv program that was a western - your basic good guys/bad guys situation. Miss Kitty was a - um... the... er, she was a lady who owned a bar and was in love with the marshall but because she was, uh.. a red head, he wouldn't go out with her. Festus was the deputy for Marshall Dillon. He limped, squinted, and needed a shave and a bath. Aw, geez - how do you explain something like that - which is SO FAR beyond anything my son has ever seen. I might have to find an episode somewhere to show him so he won't think I'm nuts or that I made all of that up.
Z-boy enjoyed my stories about living in each of those houses so much that I decided to do a written version of that tour, house by house.
The first couple of houses I lived in, I don't remember. But I remember Florida Avenue. I think I was maybe three or four.
It was a tiny house, really. Two bedrooms. One for Mom and Dad, one for me and John and Jerry. The three of us were only 16 months apart from each other. I think we moved to the next house not too long after Jerry was born.
This was the house with the secret park. It's a tiny place stuck in the middle of a block behind back yards - the hub of the wheel, so to speak. I was so thrilled that I actually found the place the day Z-boy and I went looking for it.
I remember Mr. Dan, who lived behind us. He had a really cool retaining wall in his backyard, which we thought was most entertaining. Okay - yes, we were very small - and you can find some very odd things interesting when you are new. I don't remember exactly what it WAS that made the wall cool, I just remember that it was.
I also remember that we had a short set of concrete steps going out the back door of our house. It had galvanized steel pipe handrails. For some bizarre reason, we thought it was the perfect stagecoach. So my brothers and I would hang out on the concrete steps and play "Gunsmoke". I was Miss Kitty (aged 4), of course, and my brother John (at age 3) was Marshall Dillon, and Jerry (age 1 1/2) got to be Festus.
And when I was telling Z-boy this, he asked me what a stagecoach was. What was "Gunsmoke"? Who's Miss Kitty? What did she do? What was a Festus?
Well, son... a stagecoach was kind of like a minivan pulled by horses. "Gunsmoke" was a tv program that was a western - your basic good guys/bad guys situation. Miss Kitty was a - um... the... er, she was a lady who owned a bar and was in love with the marshall but because she was, uh.. a red head, he wouldn't go out with her. Festus was the deputy for Marshall Dillon. He limped, squinted, and needed a shave and a bath. Aw, geez - how do you explain something like that - which is SO FAR beyond anything my son has ever seen. I might have to find an episode somewhere to show him so he won't think I'm nuts or that I made all of that up.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
How I met your Father
Stephanie over at MamaDrama posted about meeting and marrying her husband in her January 30th post "Better Living through Chemistry". In the comments section, I suggested she print it out and save it for her children, because they would appreciate it someday. She then challenged me to do the same thing - tell the story of "how we met" and "how we got HERE", so here you are Z-boy - the story of how I met your father. I would have told you eventually, but Stephanie just can't wait.
So... where do I start? At the beginning? What's the beginning? I will arbitrarily pick my beginning as my FIRST marriage. I know you are curious about that as well, and I'll go into more depth with it but it was the first step in my journey to your father.
I was VERY young when I started dating my first husband. And only 20 when I married him. On the big day, I was walking up to the chapel and suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. I stopped dead in my tracks and began to cry. Papa hugged me and reassured me with, "You don't have to marry him, you know..." I dried my eyes on his sleeve, held my head up, and entered the church. I'm very stubborn, you know.
He wasn't really a bad guy, actually. Just a lot older than me. And we had different ideas about what life should be about and what was important.
Things between us DID get bad though, before our first year of marriage was out. He'd gotten a job halfway across the country and took me away from home and family. Without that buffer, that fall-back position, I realized very quickly that the marriage had been a mistake. However, I was stubborn. I stuck it out for another 7 years before admitting that it just wasn't working. And at 28, I packed up my bags and headed back South.
Your father's been married before too. That's where you got your half-brother.
They were young too. High school sweethearts, in fact. And they grew apart too - had different ideas about what life was about and what was important. They had their baby. They tried. But they went their separate ways as well.
Between the time we left our respective spouses and finally got together, there were other people. Your daddy had a long term relationship with another woman. I had one that lasted nearly 3 years before it fell apart.
Darling Man and I worked at the same place. We were friends. His car broke down? I'd give him a lift to the garage. I needed a drink after work? He'd join me and keep me company. We talked about work a lot, about our relationships a little. We both worked on freelance sports when we didn't work our regular jobs. His relationship crumbled about 6 months before mine did. It was another 6 months before we started looking at each other "that way".
Our friend Dan had built a firepit in his back yard and invited some folks from work to come sit around his fire and visit one night in December... December 7th, I believe. I went and got a hair cut and bought a new jacket. I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but I thought that maybe that night SOMETHING would happen. I guess I was finally ready. People huddled around the fire drinking beer, smoking and chatting - and Darling Man was on my right side. I have no idea who was on my left. The night got later and later, and finally, I said I needed to leave. He got up and offered to walk me to my car. There was that awkward moment just before I opened my car door. I thanked him for walking me out and he blurted out, "Would you like to come to my house and see my etchings?"
Oh, it was too funny, but it did break the tension, and of course I said yes, I would love to. So he ran back and said his goodnights, then came back out, said "Follow me!" and jumped in his car. Then, I swear, he tried to lose me. Was this some kind of test???? I did manage to keep track of him and pulled up behind him in front of his house.
The next morning, I dashed home, fed the cat and got ready for work.
And he avoided me. For days. No phone calls. Near misses at work. I'm thinking that I must have been terrible, oh god how could I have misread things so badly!
I finally caught up with him in the parking lot one day and asked him what the heck was going on. And he asked me to go for a walk with him the next day at the Wildlife Refuge. So the next day, we walked. And talked. For hours. Basically, he was scared shitless. He said that he was surprised by the feelings he'd been having and wasn't sure what to do with them. Wondered if it was a mistake. And I had been afraid that I'd lost my friend because I'd had the nerve to think that there might be more. But I didn't lose my friend. In fact, I gained a best friend.
My best friend moved in with me in March. In June, his ex-wife sent his son to live with us. Thank goodness I'd had all those brothers - actually was able to deal with this.
We had fun. We went on roadtrip vacations to climb in beautiful places.
You know this picture - it's been on our mantle forever!
Finally, after a year of fun, Darling Man popped the question. And I said yes.
We were married by the same priest who married my parents. And as it turned out, the same one who baptised you, son.
And of course, we still loved climbing....
After the ceremony and the reception, we came home, changed into shorts and T-shirts, loaded up the car and headed to North Carolina and Lindville Falls. It was beautiful and misty and very romantic. And we were so in love.
The really cool thing? We still are.
And in a strange bit of irony.... Did you know that your daddy worked for my daddy for years - even while he was still married to his first wife? And I NEVER met him. Then he quit and went to work where we are now, and I left my husband in Oklahoma and eventually went to work where we are now - and THAT's where we met.
So... where do I start? At the beginning? What's the beginning? I will arbitrarily pick my beginning as my FIRST marriage. I know you are curious about that as well, and I'll go into more depth with it but it was the first step in my journey to your father.
I was VERY young when I started dating my first husband. And only 20 when I married him. On the big day, I was walking up to the chapel and suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. I stopped dead in my tracks and began to cry. Papa hugged me and reassured me with, "You don't have to marry him, you know..." I dried my eyes on his sleeve, held my head up, and entered the church. I'm very stubborn, you know.
He wasn't really a bad guy, actually. Just a lot older than me. And we had different ideas about what life should be about and what was important.
Things between us DID get bad though, before our first year of marriage was out. He'd gotten a job halfway across the country and took me away from home and family. Without that buffer, that fall-back position, I realized very quickly that the marriage had been a mistake. However, I was stubborn. I stuck it out for another 7 years before admitting that it just wasn't working. And at 28, I packed up my bags and headed back South.
Your father's been married before too. That's where you got your half-brother.
They were young too. High school sweethearts, in fact. And they grew apart too - had different ideas about what life was about and what was important. They had their baby. They tried. But they went their separate ways as well.
Between the time we left our respective spouses and finally got together, there were other people. Your daddy had a long term relationship with another woman. I had one that lasted nearly 3 years before it fell apart.
Darling Man and I worked at the same place. We were friends. His car broke down? I'd give him a lift to the garage. I needed a drink after work? He'd join me and keep me company. We talked about work a lot, about our relationships a little. We both worked on freelance sports when we didn't work our regular jobs. His relationship crumbled about 6 months before mine did. It was another 6 months before we started looking at each other "that way".
Our friend Dan had built a firepit in his back yard and invited some folks from work to come sit around his fire and visit one night in December... December 7th, I believe. I went and got a hair cut and bought a new jacket. I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but I thought that maybe that night SOMETHING would happen. I guess I was finally ready. People huddled around the fire drinking beer, smoking and chatting - and Darling Man was on my right side. I have no idea who was on my left. The night got later and later, and finally, I said I needed to leave. He got up and offered to walk me to my car. There was that awkward moment just before I opened my car door. I thanked him for walking me out and he blurted out, "Would you like to come to my house and see my etchings?"
Oh, it was too funny, but it did break the tension, and of course I said yes, I would love to. So he ran back and said his goodnights, then came back out, said "Follow me!" and jumped in his car. Then, I swear, he tried to lose me. Was this some kind of test???? I did manage to keep track of him and pulled up behind him in front of his house.
The next morning, I dashed home, fed the cat and got ready for work.
And he avoided me. For days. No phone calls. Near misses at work. I'm thinking that I must have been terrible, oh god how could I have misread things so badly!
I finally caught up with him in the parking lot one day and asked him what the heck was going on. And he asked me to go for a walk with him the next day at the Wildlife Refuge. So the next day, we walked. And talked. For hours. Basically, he was scared shitless. He said that he was surprised by the feelings he'd been having and wasn't sure what to do with them. Wondered if it was a mistake. And I had been afraid that I'd lost my friend because I'd had the nerve to think that there might be more. But I didn't lose my friend. In fact, I gained a best friend.
My best friend moved in with me in March. In June, his ex-wife sent his son to live with us. Thank goodness I'd had all those brothers - actually was able to deal with this.
We had fun. We went on roadtrip vacations to climb in beautiful places.
You know this picture - it's been on our mantle forever!
Finally, after a year of fun, Darling Man popped the question. And I said yes.
We were married by the same priest who married my parents. And as it turned out, the same one who baptised you, son.
And of course, we still loved climbing....
After the ceremony and the reception, we came home, changed into shorts and T-shirts, loaded up the car and headed to North Carolina and Lindville Falls. It was beautiful and misty and very romantic. And we were so in love.
The really cool thing? We still are.
And in a strange bit of irony.... Did you know that your daddy worked for my daddy for years - even while he was still married to his first wife? And I NEVER met him. Then he quit and went to work where we are now, and I left my husband in Oklahoma and eventually went to work where we are now - and THAT's where we met.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
The War is Over (Skirmishes continue)
Not the BIG WAR (with the Party Boys next door), but the Fur Wars. A truce has been declared between three of the parties. The fourth, French, is still launching small skirmishes in an effort to establish world domination. This war may be won next week, when small countries Misha and Tottie go get fixed....
In fact, negotiations went SO well, that one of the participants actually fell asleep during peace talks:
In other news, can government officials explain the new product-labeling laws:
Why is there an added sticker with the english words "cooking direction" and then the directions in Korean - covering up the real directions - also in Korean?????
In fact, negotiations went SO well, that one of the participants actually fell asleep during peace talks:
In other news, can government officials explain the new product-labeling laws:
Why is there an added sticker with the english words "cooking direction" and then the directions in Korean - covering up the real directions - also in Korean?????
Except for Luck, It's very close
| The True You |
 You want your girlfriend or boyfriend to be more relaxed, calm, and composed. With respect to money, you spend as little as possible. You think good luck is something you won't attain - you expect bad luck. The hidden side of your personality tends to be satisfied to care for things with a minimal amount of effort. You are tend to think about others' feelings a lot, perhaps because you are so eager to be liked. When it comes to finding a romantic partner, you will search and search until you find your perfect match. |
I was right!
When I wrote my previous post (about turning to the dark side), I was sort of guessing that I would come out as Spider Man if I ever took one of those quiz-things. And I did!
| You Are Spider-Man |
 Quick and agile, you have killer instincts (literally). And that kind of makes up for the whole creepy spider thing. |
Friday, February 02, 2007
Turning to the Dark Side
I need to find a quiz somewhere - who's your superhero identity?
Now, some people think that I might be Wonder Woman (without the hair... or the body... but I can run my family and my job like nobody's business).
I suppose I could be Super Man, standing for truth, justice, and the American Way (whatever that is anymore...)
And in a strange way, I've always related to Spider Man. Perhaps it was the inadvertent heroism of a good heart that resonated with me.
But even Spidey is getting a dark side, according to the trailers for the upcoming SpiderMan 3.
Could it just be a matter of time or circumstance that make us all want to say in the most menacing voice we can muster, "Don't make me mad. You wouldn't like me when I'm mad."
Sure, everyone has a little David Banner/Hulk in them, but the Hulk always manages to do his deed, run away, and return to being David Banner.
I'd like to feel like David Banner again. Instead, I'm stuck in my Hulk persona. I'm pissed. And you wouldn't like me when I'm pissed.
Two weeks ago at midnight on a Sunday night, I called the cops on the Party Boys next door. Last week, I think someone's father was visiting, so things were a little quieter than usual, though I was hoping that a knock on the door by officer friendly counted for SOMETHING.
Last Tuesday, I went to my first neighborhood association meeting. The meeting was led off by a police woman who lives in the neighborhood across the road from mine (there are three neighborhoods who have joined forces here). I raised my hand and asked, "When I called the police on my noisy party neighbors, the answering officer contacted me afterwards and indicated that the next call would result in an arrest. Is that true? Is that the policy? Because I don't want a bunch of drunken college boys messing around with me because I got one of them arrested." It IS true. Apparently, the neighborhood association is VERY aware of this particular house and the whole room nodded when I related my tale of woe, and moaned aloud when I mentioned the new tiki bar and hot tub that have been installed in the last two weeks. The Association has worked with the police to institute a no-tolerance stance on these disturbances (there are several college rentals around here), so an arrest WOULD be the next step.
Feeling reassured and somewhat lulled by the meeting, I returned to my life feeling a bit more optimistic about things. Until 1:30am last night.
Whoops, hollers, screams and laughter from their back deck. Loud music making a weird buzzing energy that passed through walls. At 2am, I called the cops.
It must have been a busy night, or maybe because I requested no officer contact (remember the last time when the phones outside all rang when the officer called me?), but he didn't show up until 3:30am. Unfortunately, there was a lull at that point, so the officer didn't hear anything or see anything, as they'd all gone inside for a potty break, a pot break, a sex break or something. He got out of his car and walked around a bit, then got back in his car and drove off. Ten minutes after he left, the sliding glass door opened and out they all came again. Damn! I'd hoped that they'd all passed out or perhaps killed each other but no such luck. Somewhere around 4am, they did all pass out I guess, because things got quiet again and stayed that way.
Me? I'd been up since 1:30am and had been steaming the whole time. No way I was going to get any sleep. I made coffee for my apparently somewhat deaf husband, who came shuffling out at 4:30 and he didn't hear a thing until their last hurrah at about 3:45.
Yes, I'm pissed. Turning-to-the-dark-side pissed. If I WERE as big as the Hulk, I would be over there this second, lifting those little boys up off their toes and giving them the hairy mechanical eyeball and breathing death-breath all over them.
You make me look like THIS in the morning?
You'd better be prepared to take the consequences.
Like when I "accidently" hit the panic button on my key fob, and the incredibly loud honking from my car (wide-eyes) makes me drop the fob so that the horn just keeps going and going and going - at 7:45 in the morning right outside their door. Oops. Didn't mean to do that! Could happen to anyone, right?
Or like when I write down the make, model, and license plate number of every vehicle STILL in your yard this morning (7), for future reference when I talk to the Dean of Students about this little community problem we're having...
Or when I mention to my friend the IRS Criminal Investigator that he might want to check their returns because I'm pretty sure that hot tub isn't being used for theraputic reasons.
Or when I dismantle the outside phones (one using a hatchet) so that I can call the police in peace and have them call me back without worrying about you hearing my phones go off.
Or when I stand there in my driveway waving goodbye as the police haul your sorry asses out to the jailhouse just in time to end that SuperBowlSuperParty that you announced to the neighborhood at large at the top of your voice around 3am last night at a reasonable time because people have to work and go to school the next morning.
Yup. I am the Hulk. Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Now, some people think that I might be Wonder Woman (without the hair... or the body... but I can run my family and my job like nobody's business).
I suppose I could be Super Man, standing for truth, justice, and the American Way (whatever that is anymore...)
And in a strange way, I've always related to Spider Man. Perhaps it was the inadvertent heroism of a good heart that resonated with me.
But even Spidey is getting a dark side, according to the trailers for the upcoming SpiderMan 3.
Could it just be a matter of time or circumstance that make us all want to say in the most menacing voice we can muster, "Don't make me mad. You wouldn't like me when I'm mad."
Sure, everyone has a little David Banner/Hulk in them, but the Hulk always manages to do his deed, run away, and return to being David Banner.
I'd like to feel like David Banner again. Instead, I'm stuck in my Hulk persona. I'm pissed. And you wouldn't like me when I'm pissed.
Two weeks ago at midnight on a Sunday night, I called the cops on the Party Boys next door. Last week, I think someone's father was visiting, so things were a little quieter than usual, though I was hoping that a knock on the door by officer friendly counted for SOMETHING.
Last Tuesday, I went to my first neighborhood association meeting. The meeting was led off by a police woman who lives in the neighborhood across the road from mine (there are three neighborhoods who have joined forces here). I raised my hand and asked, "When I called the police on my noisy party neighbors, the answering officer contacted me afterwards and indicated that the next call would result in an arrest. Is that true? Is that the policy? Because I don't want a bunch of drunken college boys messing around with me because I got one of them arrested." It IS true. Apparently, the neighborhood association is VERY aware of this particular house and the whole room nodded when I related my tale of woe, and moaned aloud when I mentioned the new tiki bar and hot tub that have been installed in the last two weeks. The Association has worked with the police to institute a no-tolerance stance on these disturbances (there are several college rentals around here), so an arrest WOULD be the next step.
Feeling reassured and somewhat lulled by the meeting, I returned to my life feeling a bit more optimistic about things. Until 1:30am last night.
Whoops, hollers, screams and laughter from their back deck. Loud music making a weird buzzing energy that passed through walls. At 2am, I called the cops.
It must have been a busy night, or maybe because I requested no officer contact (remember the last time when the phones outside all rang when the officer called me?), but he didn't show up until 3:30am. Unfortunately, there was a lull at that point, so the officer didn't hear anything or see anything, as they'd all gone inside for a potty break, a pot break, a sex break or something. He got out of his car and walked around a bit, then got back in his car and drove off. Ten minutes after he left, the sliding glass door opened and out they all came again. Damn! I'd hoped that they'd all passed out or perhaps killed each other but no such luck. Somewhere around 4am, they did all pass out I guess, because things got quiet again and stayed that way.
Me? I'd been up since 1:30am and had been steaming the whole time. No way I was going to get any sleep. I made coffee for my apparently somewhat deaf husband, who came shuffling out at 4:30 and he didn't hear a thing until their last hurrah at about 3:45.
Yes, I'm pissed. Turning-to-the-dark-side pissed. If I WERE as big as the Hulk, I would be over there this second, lifting those little boys up off their toes and giving them the hairy mechanical eyeball and breathing death-breath all over them.
You make me look like THIS in the morning?
You'd better be prepared to take the consequences.Like when I "accidently" hit the panic button on my key fob, and the incredibly loud honking from my car (wide-eyes) makes me drop the fob so that the horn just keeps going and going and going - at 7:45 in the morning right outside their door. Oops. Didn't mean to do that! Could happen to anyone, right?
Or like when I write down the make, model, and license plate number of every vehicle STILL in your yard this morning (7), for future reference when I talk to the Dean of Students about this little community problem we're having...
Or when I mention to my friend the IRS Criminal Investigator that he might want to check their returns because I'm pretty sure that hot tub isn't being used for theraputic reasons.
Or when I dismantle the outside phones (one using a hatchet) so that I can call the police in peace and have them call me back without worrying about you hearing my phones go off.
Or when I stand there in my driveway waving goodbye as the police haul your sorry asses out to the jailhouse just in time to end that SuperBowlSuperParty that you announced to the neighborhood at large at the top of your voice around 3am last night at a reasonable time because people have to work and go to school the next morning.
Yup. I am the Hulk. Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Fuzzy Takes a Bath
Through a series of very bad decisions, Z-boy's best friend became rather soaked with urine.
**note to self: do not give your child a mug of chamomille tea just before bedtime. It fills his bladder and puts him out like a light**
As Fuzzy is nearing 7 years old (a present on Z-boy's first birthday), he has been loved into a state of delicacy. Oh, he's been tossed in the washer and dryer before due to similar encounters, but he was much stronger then....
So for three days, he stank up the room while I tried to decide how to get him back into loveable condition. Yesterday morning, I decided on a course of action.
First, a nice warm bath with lots of bubbles and gentle massage and squeezing. We did this several times. Fuzzy got VERY relaxed.
We followed up with a nice, refreshing rinse.
After more vigorous (but still very gentle) squeezing, Fuzzy relaxed in the dish rack to dry, looking rather shriveled and wrinkly and in desperate need of teddy bear restelin injections (extra stuffing)...
He thought that maybe because his head was so big and full of water, THIS position might make more sense.
Fuzzy hung out in the dishrack all day. While I waiting to pick up Z-boy at the bus stop, I called my Mom, the teddy bear cleaning expert, and asked for some ideas of how to get Fuzzy all nice and dry (but not fluffy, as his fur has all been loved off). Several ideas were tossed about, with my father chiming in with ideas as well, and I settled on a course of action to facilitate gentle drying with the least amount of trauma.
Unbeknownst to me, my husband had come home, spotted Fuzzy lazing in the dishrack, and promptly stuffed him into a pillowcase and out to the dryer he went.
Thank God Fuzzy is stronger than he looks. He came through the dryer with flying colors and spent last night back in Z-boy's arms smelling April Fresh.
**note to self: do not give your child a mug of chamomille tea just before bedtime. It fills his bladder and puts him out like a light**
As Fuzzy is nearing 7 years old (a present on Z-boy's first birthday), he has been loved into a state of delicacy. Oh, he's been tossed in the washer and dryer before due to similar encounters, but he was much stronger then....
So for three days, he stank up the room while I tried to decide how to get him back into loveable condition. Yesterday morning, I decided on a course of action.
First, a nice warm bath with lots of bubbles and gentle massage and squeezing. We did this several times. Fuzzy got VERY relaxed.
We followed up with a nice, refreshing rinse.
After more vigorous (but still very gentle) squeezing, Fuzzy relaxed in the dish rack to dry, looking rather shriveled and wrinkly and in desperate need of teddy bear restelin injections (extra stuffing)...
He thought that maybe because his head was so big and full of water, THIS position might make more sense.
Fuzzy hung out in the dishrack all day. While I waiting to pick up Z-boy at the bus stop, I called my Mom, the teddy bear cleaning expert, and asked for some ideas of how to get Fuzzy all nice and dry (but not fluffy, as his fur has all been loved off). Several ideas were tossed about, with my father chiming in with ideas as well, and I settled on a course of action to facilitate gentle drying with the least amount of trauma.
Unbeknownst to me, my husband had come home, spotted Fuzzy lazing in the dishrack, and promptly stuffed him into a pillowcase and out to the dryer he went.
Thank God Fuzzy is stronger than he looks. He came through the dryer with flying colors and spent last night back in Z-boy's arms smelling April Fresh.
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