Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Then I realized I wasn't taking the shirt's advice, because I was worrying about it. Then I realized that worrying about punctuation makes me happy. What to do? What to do?
Really, I should have been worrying about something else entirely, such as how this woman managed to gain access to a time machine and transport herself back to 1988 to purchase the shirt in the first place.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
So: Five years. Still alive. That's cool.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Aunts and Uncles
Grandmas and Grandpas
Jimmy John (may he rest in peace)
Reading books with WCK
Playing at the park
Men who cook the turkey on Thanksgiving
Fourth of July
(someone in the family really enjoys holidays)
Friday, November 26, 2010
But once the race started, I got all warmed up, and I had a good time. I ran with my sister, and I had my iPod with all of my Bon Jovi/New Kids/Backstreet Boys/various other crappy music that I love. I hope I can do some more races and improve my time. Best of all, we could all consume an enormous Thanksgiving meal guilt-free. I'm thinking that the guilt-free eating should extend into several days of leftovers, too. Mmmm, guilt-free leftovers.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
It's just a ponytail with a headband around it. That's all it is. And all of them were doing it. It's like they all held a Secret Meeting of Eighth Grade Girls and said, "Look! We're not styling our hair ever again! Let's all make a pact to wear ponytails with headbands around them every single day!" How freaking brilliant is this? It would take about five seconds to do.
I think the reason I'm so impressed is that when I was in the eighth grade, every girl's hair looked like this:
Or, if you were extra-fancy, this:
And if you ever did want to pull your hair back in a ponytail, it had to be something ridiculous:
Do you realize how much sleep we missed in the '80s because we had to get up hours before school started to construct our hairdos? Do you know how little attention we paid in class because we were constantly worried that our bangs were falling down? Do you know how many hairspray fumes we inhaled between 1986 and 1993? I never realized it at the time, but now I know we were all sleep-deprived, uneducated, and full of toxic fumes. I think we all have significant brain damage. I won't even get into the way our rolled jeans cut off circulation to our ankles.
But today's girls have it right, and I'm pretty jealous. They're all going to go far.
By the way, I have no idea who the girls in these photos are. I just Googled "80s Hair", and there they were. Poor souls.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
This was my first time on Dairy Duty, and WCK was pretty excited that I was going to be there. She kept explaining what I needed to do. "You stand there, and you say, 'White or chocolate? White or chocolate?'"
I told her, "I think I'll say, 'Hello, ma'am! Would you like white milk or chocolate milk today?'"
WCK looked stricken.
"No, no, no! Don't say that extra stuff! Just say, 'White or chocolate'!"
Wow, how embarrassing to have a mom who won't stick to the Dairy Duty script! WCK would never live it down. She'd be in eighth grade, and kids would still be saying, "Hey, WCK! Remember the time in kindergarten when your mom didn't say, 'White or chocolate?' Ha ha ha!"
So I didn't say the extra stuff, and WCK still let me give her a hug and a kiss in the middle of the cafeteria when I saw her. At least I haven't become that lame. Yet.
Monday, November 22, 2010
ME: Oh, what a beautiful morning ...
WCK: STOP THAT!!!!
ME: Oh, what a beautiful day ..
WCK: STOP!! SINGING!!!
ME: I've got a beautiful feeeeee-liiing ...
WCK: YOU ARE BOTHERING ME!!!!
By the time I got to the part about the elephant's eye, she was up. Thank you, Rodgers and Hammerstein.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
I want to laugh every time, except I'm too out of breath.
Is there anything that song can't do?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I guess, technically, it was opening afternoon. And closing afternoon, for that matter. I don't think "What Teachers Can't Do" will extend its run, which is unfortunate. It's not often that one encounters a play that explains so powerfully and beautifully that, yes, there are some things that teachers can't do. Also, there were free cookies at the end.
The kids acted out each page from the book, and they took turns playing the teachers and the students. The kids had decided that the teachers they were playing were their own homeroom teachers. The play opened with WCK writing on a chalkboard (actually, it was a big dry-erase board).
"WCK, tell us which teacher you are," prompted Miss Drama Club Teacher.
"I'M THE TEACHER ON THE FIRST PAGE!" announced WCK.
Huge laugh from the audience.
"But aren't you Mrs. NameOfYourHomeroomTeacher?" asked Miss DCT.
"Eh," shrugged WCK. "Sure."
She went back to writing on the chalkboard. Another huge laugh. She was not going to break character for anything.
I'd say the highlight of her performance was a scene in which two characters were supposed to be having a conversation on a playground, illustrating the dramatic point that teachers can't go down the twisty slide. It went something like this:
KID ONE: You should go down the twisty slide.
KID TWO: No, I can't.
KID ONE: You really should go down the twisty slide.
KID TWO: No, I really can't.
Meanwhile, WCK was acting the part of a child jumping rope on the playground, leaping exuberantly behind the two main actors and grinning at the audience. Scene stealer!
So, the play went well, and the teacher let us know that there will be another four-week drama club session starting sometime after Christmas, and the kids will work on an all new play. I can't wait to find out what it will be. King Lear? A Streetcar Named Desire? Les Miserables? I will keep you posted in January.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
However, there is one thing that she does that I've never corrected because I find it so dang hilarious and cute. According to WCK, multiple articles of clothing are called clothes. If you have a single article of clothing, such as one shirt or one dress, it's called a "clo."
Really, this makes perfect sense.
She'll say things like, "Can I get a new dress-up clo?" or "Maybe we should get Daddy a new exercise clo for Christmas" or "I spilled oatmeal on my clo!" Not only do I not correct her, I just go along with it: "Yes, maybe we should get Daddy an exercise clo!"
This is going to come up on a spelling test in a couple years, and she's going to be really mad at me.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Well, today's scouts are much more serious. At her meeting today, WCK received a chart that will help her keep track of all of the ways our family is "using resources wisely." Why, sure! This is an excellent idea! I can remind WCK to turn off lights when she leaves the room. I can nag her to not let the water run when she brushes her teeth! This is great for girls to learn.
Then I actually read the chart and saw that I, personally, would have to use the resources wisely and stop living the lazy, irresponsible lifestyle that I work so hard to maintain. For example, one of the things she needs to check off is, "Ask parents to eat more meals with the family at home instead of going out to eat at a restaurant."
Really, Girl Scouts? You want to take away my free ice cream at Jason's Deli? You want me to cook? Have you no souls?
I won't even get into the one about how you should help mom/dad hand wash the dishes instead of running the dishwasher. It's simply inhumane.
Monday, November 15, 2010
I finished off the last Laffy Taffy just now, and I had a few questions. If you're not familiar with Laffy Taffy, it's fruit-flavored taffy that comes in a wrapper that has jokes printed on it. Supposedly, the jokes are submitted by people across the country, but I did an Internet search and can't seem to find a way to submit the jokes. This is surprising, because I thought for sure I'd find a list of guidelines for Laffy Taffy joke writers:
Laffy Taffy is currently accepting jokes for our 2011 candy wrappers. Please follow these guidelines when submitting jokes:
1) Joke must be lame.
2) If joke is not lame, it must make no sense whatsoever.
The Laffy Taffy corporation cannot accept any jokes that do not meet these guidelines. If your joke actually makes people laugh, it will be rejected. We maintain our strong commitment to making humor-loving people everywhere crumple up our wrappers in disgust. Keep this in mind: Would your joke make the wrapper-reader roll her eyes and exclaim that her five-year-old could come up with better material? If so, we want your joke.
Seriously, here was one of the jokes on the candy I ate this morning, submitted by Terri T. of St. Charles, Mo.: "Why do some people never go bald? They have a re-seeding hairline!"
I mean, I still ate the taffy, but I wasn't very laffy about it.
My point, and I do have one, is that there are no pieces of good chocolate candy left in the bucket, except one: a full-size Three Musketeers bar.
What the heck? Our neighborhood seems like a fairly sensible place. I can't believe someone was giving away full-size candy bars. I don't know who it was. You hear stories about this kind of thing happening, but in my 35 years, I'd never seen it actually happen. Growing up, I'd always hear stories about how so-and-so's cousin's sister's friend was able to go trick-or-treating in the Millionaire Neighborhood in Omaha, where the heir to the Godfather's Pizza fortune was giving away full-size candy bars as well as cans of pop with dollar bills wrapped around them.
Could you imagine having an entire can of pop all to yourself? Plus, you'd get an entire dollar, which meant that you could go out and buy two more cans of pop! Luxury! When my sister and I were allowed pop, we always had to split one, although I would usually add extra ice to her cup to make it look like she got more.
Unfortunately, my unreasonable parents would never agree to drive me over to Omaha's Millionaire Neighborhood on Halloween night, which meant we were stuck with the sensible people in our own neighborhood who liked to give out those peanut butter chewy things in the orange and black wrappers. How I survived this difficult childhood, I do not know.
But here we are today, with a full-size Three Musketeers casually sitting in the Halloween bucket, like this kind of thing happens every day. WCK, for some odd reason, doesn't seem to have much interest in it. Maybe she doesn't realize how unusual it is. I'm not sure what to do with it. I'm not going to feed my five-year-old a gigantic candy bar, and while I could easily consume three mini-size Three Musketeers at one sitting, eating one giant one myself just seems wrong.
I think I'll keep it around for a while, just so I can stare and marvel at it. And I'm not sure how to end this post, so I think I'll close with another Laffy Taffy joke:
What kind of key doesn't open a lock? A monkey!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Nothing will keep me from winning that decorative gourd! Nothing!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Notice that I did not say that it was a fast time, but I ran the entire way and did not die. Not dying is much more important than being fast. I have my priorities. Also, on race day I'm not going to have my cell phone or car keys in my pocket. Once I shed all of that excess weight, I should just fly.
Friday, November 12, 2010
WCK colored the turkey, made the necklace, and helped me with the tinfoil crown. She also put two little rings on the end of the turkey's wings, which you can't see in the picture. I designed the tissue-paper skirt. Jay made the magic wand and the little shoes.
The result was the loveliest turkey in all the land.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Also, I apologize for posting this photo, especially on Veterans Day. After looking at it for a while, I realized it's probably really bad flag etiquette. I Googled flag etiquette, and I couldn't find anything that specifically said, "The flag shall not have Bon Jovi placed upon it", but I think it's implied.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
For 30 cycles of Revlimid, the survey was administered by a computerized female voice. I always thought she sounded like one of those Speak 'N Spell toys from the early '80s. "Have ... you ... shared ... your ... Rev-li-mid ... with ... an-y-one? Press one for yes ... two for no ... or three for ... don't ... know." Early on, I lamented that Speak 'N Spell Lady was too impersonal. I thought that if someone was going to ask you all of these intimate questions, it could at least be a compassionate human voice.
After a while, though, Speak 'N Spell Lady started to grow on me. She became familiar, almost comforting. We were buddies. She was easy to talk to. I felt like she was on my side. Even though she never said it, I was sure she looked forward to my calls. I always looked forward to my favorite question: "Have you had your womb or uterus surgically removed? Press one for yes, two for no, or three for don't know."
What man put option three in there? What man??
Yesterday, I called to take my survey and something seemed a little off. Something wasn't right. What was it?
It was a compassionate human voice!
Speak 'N Spell Lady is no more! What happened? Did her batteries die? Did she get another job? After all of her years of service, she was fired and replaced by a human. I blame the economy.
Having to answer to an actual human just isn't the same. I mean, it makes sense for a computer to say something awkward and weird like "womb or uterus", but I can't believe an actual living woman got the script for this survey and didn't laugh until she peed.
Farewell, Speak 'N Spell Lady. Maybe someday we'll talk again, perhaps at the insurance company's 1-800 number or at the drive-through car wash, but I have a feeling that, somehow, it just won't be quite the same.
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
So, anyway, I get to take two weeks off Rev instead of the usual one week. It's a vacation. What am I going to do with myself? I need to find a beach to lounge on or something.
Monday, November 08, 2010
The race course is in a park, so this morning I went there to try it out. I figured that once I was done with my practice run, I'd be writing a blog post about how I'd collapsed, how I'd never make it through the actual race, and how I hoped the other runners on race day would be nice enough to gingerly step over my corpse, or at least kick it out of the way so it didn't trip anyone.
It turned out that ... I did great! I had my upbeat running playlist on my iPod, and I flew on winged feet all the way through the course. I didn't stop to walk once! When I finished, I felt like I could keep on running! I checked my watch, and my time was excellent!
Weirdly excellent. Suspiciously excellent. Physically impossible excellent.
After returning home and carefully studying the map of the course, I realized that I'd started and finished in the wrong place, and I'd missed out on at least a mile or more of the actual course. Oh.
I'll have to try it again in a few days, and I'll probably be writing that corpse-themed blog entry then.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Or maybe not. The downside of the children's store is that it's held on Nov. 7, which is light years from Christmas morning. WCK always makes us open our gifts as soon as we get home.
This year, she got me a very cute little heart-shaped jewelry box with flowers on it. I asked her what I should keep in it.
"Oh, you know, some jewelries, or, really, anything you'd keep in your treasure chest if you were a pirate."
Saturday, November 06, 2010
From what I could tell, the play was about a dinosaur egg that needed to hatch. First they tried to recruit a cranky male triceratops to hatch the egg, but he flatly denied being the egg's father and stormed off. The loud apatosaurus finally hatched the egg, only to discover -- shocker! -- that it was a baby triceratops! She adopted the baby, the male triceratops returned to rescue them from a t-rex, and they all escaped together to a swamp to start a new life together.
Was the triceratops indeed the father? Was he going to make an honest woman of the apatosaurus? It was never explained.
I'd ask Jay, but he napped through most of it. Lucky.
Friday, November 05, 2010
It's only Day 5 of this daily blogging thing, and it's already starting to stress me out. I mean, I have lots of other things to do today, such as take care of my child and Google the NKOTBSB tour (not necessarily in that order). Anyway, it turns out there is an official video (about the NKOTBSB tour, not about how to take care of a child ... although I probably need one of those).
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
"Mommy! Today someone dropped Jesus on the floor and his head fell off and rolled away somewhere, and the teacher had to stick it back on with tape!"
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Monday, November 01, 2010
Well, almost. Jay fixed his own meal and did not eat a Tapeworm Sandwich. I don't know why:
I cut hot dogs into strips and boiled them until they got curly and worm-like, and then served them on a bun. I then got out the ketchup and asked WCK if she would like some bloooooooood on her tapeworm sandwich, and of course she did. I also had bloooooood and some mustard, but I wasn't sure what the mustard should be.
"SPOOKY GOBLIN SLIME!!!" said WCK.
Ah. Tapeworm sandwiches with bloooood and spooky goblin slime. Delicious.