Miss Speak

Well, today I announced that the threat of wintery participation has ended.

Apparently winter has quit, packed it in, and will no longer participate.

It's just like anonymity rearing its ugly head in the workplace. I hate it when I don't know who's in the room next to me.

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas

A. It doesn't matter how jolly or fat you are; drinking and driving don't mix.
B. This wasn't what they meant by reindeer games.
C. We missed Jamaica by miles!

What would your caption be?

Here Comes Santa Claus

Santa is coming tonight! Tonight! Tonight! Oh, we can't wait to go to bed already! Hopefully Santa loses some sleigh bells in the back yard. The music teacher told us about this one, but ours won't be as wonderful as hers, for hers also had reindeer fur attached. I don't think we'll find reindeer fur in the back yard. Maybe just a couple bells with no fur attached. That's kinda gross even for me.

Here's a wonderful Message from Santa site for you. I can't believe I didn't post it sooner. You can customize a message from the big man himself. Try it. Great for the kids, and funny for adults.

Well, it's time to bundle up and go spend one last day in the snow. The approaching rain will ruin everything: the three snow forts, two snowmen, and countless sled runs. Boo on the rain.

Can You Dig Without Toenails?

There's nothing more pathetic than a dog with no toenails desperately trying to dig in the snow. He's looking for the Tootsie Roll mouth that fell off the snowman.

In other news, Bubby officially changed his name to Batman. He told me he was going to do it, but I didn't believe him until I took his school work out of his folder. There it was in blue crayon: Batman. Nice.

Really, all this sighing is improving my asthma. Keep it up kids. It's good for Mom. Really. It is.

Two Funny Things

So, we were snowed in (not really, unless you're from Florida and drive a Mustang), and we ran out of milk!!!! Yup, you read that correctly; for some reason the excess snowed-in cookies and hot chocolate drastically increased the milk consumption, and the well ran dry. As a result, I ventured out to the store yesterday. Now, Route 1, I95, the mall, and all maintenance corporation neighborhood roads are beautifully clear, but all other roads made driving feel like I was steering a Hot Wheels vehicle over a bowl of oranges. Nice, right? My first stop was the mall, which wasn't that crowded. Odd. Then I went to the Giant, and I saw the strangest thing ever. The event even made me stop and stare, which I never do because I fear confrontation like others fear death. In the meat section, I spotted a man--tall, lean, dressed in black and gold, wearing sunglasses, taking pictures of the beef. Around his neck, he sported a rather nice camera. He would take a good look at the meat, step back, suspiciously look around, and then step in for the photo. I watched him for a full five minutes because this was fascinating behavior. He truly acted as though he should not be doing what he was doing. That's a first. Maybe a last. Weird.

The second funny/gross thing happened today as I was digging through the goody basket in the pantry for a mouth and eyes to plaster onto the future snowman. We have a zucchini for the nose, but no other facial accessories. Anyway, in the bottom of the basket, I found a plastic bag. Now, you need to know that my husband knows quite well that I create food experiments solely because I forget the food is there. Nothing has gone on so long as to grow legs and walk, but we've had some Darwinian electron soup beings in the fridge before. Well, here in the pantry was a bag of compact, moss-like hardened food substance. Upon closer inspection, it proved to be a bag of hamburger buns that expired in July. I think there were four buns in the bag, but the congealed mass was no larger than a clementine. I giggled, not because it was funny, but because I am slowly losing my mind and I probably forgot why I was standing there with green buns.

The Snow

Help us, Santa!


This was a bench--it should give you an indication of the roughly 18 inches we received. The world will be glad to know that we did not rush out for milk and bread. You know why? Because we are always prepared anyway. We are a 6-gallon a week house. There's always milk here.

The F-Word

The other day, we dashed madly to the grocery store after school to pick up fudge-making supplies (does fudge count as dinner?). Upon leaving, we courteously waited to let a car turn down our parking aisle. Well, it wasn't entirely out of courtesy--he had positioned his car in such a way that I couldn't turn out onto the lane. So, after waiting for an engraved invitation to turn, this man wedged his car up on the median, now totally blocking my path with his stupidity. I still can't figure out how he did it because the median is bigger than his car and is landscaped with trees and bushes. Duh. Anyway, in my frustration, I blurted out, "Oh, come on, move your ffff.........." But there I stopped and didn't say the f-word because my little pitchers were in the back seat. Bubby let about 5 seconds pass, and then he giggled and said, "I thought you were gonna say 'f@ckin.'"

At least I refrained.

Imagine That

Guess what? It snowed here today.

Cartoon Eyes

You know how cartoons are mostly all outlined in black? Well, the other night, my boy (age 4, mind you) angrily pounded his fist into his pillow and declared, "I am really angry with God." Whatever for? God gave him the wrong eyes. God gave him cartoon eyes. He sees outlines around people. He said he has no gripe about his fast feet or his smart brain, but he's really upset about the eyeball mess-up.

Sigh.

Blind

You may be aware that several years ago, we adopted some homeless carny fish. On the way home from the carnival, they were dropped, sat on, shaken, and basically taken for a whole new ride, but they toughed it out, clinging happily to their tiny plastic bag survival land. Over the years, they have moved up in the world, abandoning their mobile homes for matching fishbowl town homes that abutted each other. Finally, they moved into their mansion tank with a filter, one-of-a-kind statuettes, and fancy landscaping.

Recently, however, it has come to my attention that fish number 2 has gone blind. All the thermometers and plastic plants in the world can't help him now. Honestly, they can't because he keeps running into them. Sure, he has a good sense of up and down, but every other direction is filled with nothing but peril.

How, may you ask, do I know he is blind? Well, in the peaceful silence of the night, I have heard, however faint, tiny, repeated muffled thuds, as if something soft and gentle were bumping uncontrollably against the glass.

No, really, he just runs into everything and looks like he has cataracts. Poor fish. Poor, funny, sad carny fish--destined to amuse us through his pain. The tears of a clown...fish.