Here's why we're not getting a dog....or a hermit crab or sea monkeys. If you follow these postings you know we have cat. He lives outside. While he is clever and resourceful at finding things to munch on, we do feed him. Well... I feed him. And that brings me to my point. It's been at least a week since one of the kids has feed EL Gato. I've been doing the job. Kid one is online, saving the world from zombies. Kid two is organizing his toy buckets. "Ummm...did anyone feed Oreo today?" Or yesterday or the day before or EVER??? Silence. I can hear their thoughts knocking around in their heads.... Finally, kid one is brave enough to speak. " I did it the other day." Ahhh...yes. Let the finger pointing begin . Not wanting to be left out of the carnival game, kid two throws in his buck fifty. "Well, I do it all the time." Really??? Cuz I'd bet my next hair appointment that you are bot...
The last time I cleaned my house, it was June. I've been away for a while. Today was the first day of school. Everyone got scooted out the door in record time. Go Us! I stood in my empty, quiet house. and took it in. Not the empty silence....the DUST . Oh for the love of Pledge. The sunlight is peeking through the shutters, casting fancy little rays of pixie dust all around the room. I can see where the kids have "tagged" their names. Kid One Was Here. (smiley face) Wash me. Kid Two. Clever, aren't they? In my mind, I imagine myself in a Mary Poppins like state. Dusting. Moping. Twirling about... Decked out in my best apron. Talking to the birds. Instead, I put on Dr. Dre, and bust a move, starting with the couch. Did you know that a couch is the Bermuda Triangle of the furniture world? In there I found: The mail key. Cheetos. A pencil. Three pens. The remote. $2 in change. A glow stick. A poker chip. A bookmark. Awesome. Dre ...
Last year at the pumpkin patch, Kid Two chose a spaghetti squash. He was very excited to cook and eat it. Well, the darn thing rotted before we could have our way with it. Kid Two, a.k.a "boy who forgets nothing" , has reminded me... incessantly, in the past year that we didn't get to eat our squash. Fast forward to today.... He spots the elusive squash amongst a pile of gourds at the grocery store. "Pleeeeeeease can we get one?" "Of course", I say. As we walk away, a brownish, lumpy squash catches his eye. "That's a meatball squash. I don't think I will like that one." Yeah. That's probably some kind of food law anyway...
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