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...
Oh.....the OnStar lady, and her liquid voice. Thankfully I've never had to use it for an emergency, only for making calls. I'm convinced smoke signals or a carrier pigeon would be a faster, more efficient system. By the time I get Ms. OnStar to understand me, I'm ready to reach into the space from which her voice comes and wring her sexy little neck. Welcome to OnStar.... Dial Phone Number to Dial Please....( she's polite ) 555-1234 896234897512365, yes or no.......? No I'm sorry....? ( she's so VERY polite ) NO Slower please.....( ENOUGH WITH THE MANNERS!! ) NoooooOOOooooooahhhh Okay, Let's try again.... So I give her another chance, and try to articulate each number precisely as she does, thinking she will understand because I'm speaking her language five. five. five. one. two. three. four. Slower please.. .. Arrrrrhgghghghhhh!!!! Thank You, Goodbye. She hung up on me. She hung up on me ?!
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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