Every morning when I reach inside my bathroom medicine cabinet to grab my toothbrush, this dusty little box of burn cream greets me. I don’t remember buying it, so I’m positive it’s my husband’s nice way of saying he thinks I’m a such a colossal klutz in the kitchen that even two giant oven mitts won’t be enough to prevent catastrophe. And I can’t tell you how many times I try to bake cookies only to have one kid precariously strapped to my leg like a tourniquet and the other one dangling her feet over the hot oven in an obvious attempt to dry her toenail polish.
Hey, Kids! Let’s Lie Still for Awhile!
This winter has been particularly mind-numbing for my kids. In an attempt to shake things up, they’ve taken to planking, also known as “The Lying Down Game”. This is what we’ve come to in this day and age for entertainment; a game where you’re required to do nothing more than be as lazy as possible. Naturally, I thought my kids and I would be great at it.
After we had fun with this new fad, I suggested a couple other games such as:
“The Sit Still At Dinnertime and Eat Some Broccoli” Game, “The Stop Throwing Broccoli at Your Brother’s Head” Game, “The Sit in the Backseat of the Car and Not Whine Until My Head Splits Open” Game, “The Lay Down and Go To Sleep All Night Long Without Coming Into Our Bedroom to Wake Us Up Every Two Hours to Tell Us There’s a Monster Under Your Bed and He Wants Goldfish Crackers and Chocolate Milk” Game and my personal favorite, “Close Your Eyes, Think Happy Thoughts, and Not Talk for One Minute” Game. My kids didn’t understand the rules to any of these games so I abandoned my ideas and we played Twister instead. And, unlike my sledding experience from last week, I ended up in traction.
Sadly, my daughter kept stepping on them as soon as I would make them, (sorry, Spectra, my goal was an entire army of snowmen) so I could only get a few in this shot. I think she enjoyed the destruction and devastation a little too much as evidenced by the wild-eyed, crazed-grin look in the picture above. Her much crueler older brother came upon the scene and things got really nasty.
Stating the Obvious
Watching our local news the other night, I’ve noticed how easily they could be using the old “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” motto. For instance: Snow. Every year they run the same stories, interview the same people with the same obvious questions and statements. They film the snowplows getting ready. They film people panicking inside a Home Depot store once all the shovels run out. They film people panicking inside Shop N Save once all the whiskey runs out.
Then the unlucky reporter stands outside in blustery wind and snow, silently cursing the lucky SOB’s who are still inside the cozy studio, to tell us the golden nugget of earth-shattering info that when rain is falling and it’s below 32 degrees, it changes into frozen precipitation. Next they interview some guy on the street who says, “Yeah, this snow thing is the pits, man! I hate it! Gah!” and then, to perhaps ignite a tantalizing debate, they interview another guy who says, “Snow? Oh, yeah! Love it! Bring it on! I can finally put those expensive mukluks I bought to good use!”
And year after year, people act genuinely surprised that 1) Maine gets snowstorms 2) When it snows, things get pretty damn slippery 3) It sucks to shovel snow 4) Snow tends to melt once summer hits (and then, thank God, we can all complain about the heat).
Stating the Not So Obvious
I was tucking my five year old into bed last night when out of the blue she yelled, “Hey! Did you know that Mrs. O’Connell (her preschool teacher) has a pet porcupine named Mr. Fester?” I said, “Huh. No, I did not now that.” (My suspicions of Mrs. O’Connell are only increasing with this new information.) She continued, “And she also has a pet bee! Yeah! It’s true! Once I was sitting there at my desk and a bumblebee was buzzing around the window. I named him Bob.”
Before she went to sleep, we read three books. After I closed the last one, she yelled, “Hey! Did you know that I can read with my eyes closed?” I said, “Huh, really? No, I didn’t know that.” She nodded her head excitedly and said, “Yeah, I close them and I can still see the words!” If only I could have that superpower. The only ones I’ve perfected over the years are: “Listening to my husband without really hearing him” and “Sleeping with my eyes open.” Both extremely valuable powers to have, I suppose. Helps keep our marriage healthy.