What are you going through right now?
Want to share your story about your teenagers?
Do you have reptiles?
Leave a comment at the bottom of this post and I'll make a big deal of it.
Friday, November 7, 2008
When did this happen?
Keep in mind that the stories on this blog happened in 1998 through 2003. Yes, they really did happen pretty much like they are told. All our kids are grown now. Things are sure a lot quieter on the home front. As I look back on these years, I kinda miss the kids being teenagers. I don't miss the hoopla that accompanied the insanity and added to the stress!
What are you going through right now?
Want to share your story about your teenagers?
Do you have reptiles?
Leave a comment at the bottom of this post and I'll make a big deal of it.
What are you going through right now?
Want to share your story about your teenagers?
Do you have reptiles?
Leave a comment at the bottom of this post and I'll make a big deal of it.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Soup’s on
My daughter asked me to make some tomato soup for her. I boiled it over into the stove burner as I always do. Then, I overfilled the bowl, and put it on a metal tray for her to take to her room. I placed extra napkins on the tray so she wouldn’t drip it on our “used-to-be-white” carpet. She walked carefully out of the kitchen without spilling a drop.
About thirty seconds later I heard a loud “Ka-thump, clank-clang, UGH!” and I knew what had happened--the soup was a goner. As I rounded the corner, my daughter yelled, “Get my sweater out of it, and put it in the washer, quick!”
At least the girl was fine. Her $58 sweater and the carpet will never be the same. The walls and the top four steps were baptized in red-orange Campbell’s and the bowl was empty. Not much spilled on the tray or napkins though. My daughter was trying her best to get up the mess with a towel, but I knew this was a job for Super-mom. I sent her downstairs to boil over some more soup while I went to the basement (a.k.a. reptile farm) for the shop-vac. Of course it was all the way under the snake table, but after rearranging the basement, I got it out.
I took the machine upstairs to the tomato track and plugged it in. "Ahhh! Gag! What is that smell?"
My son and Wayne hadn’t washed out the canister when they used the shop-vac to clean up the mess Salina (Wayne’s dog) had made in the garage! I ran outside to empty it. I tried to rinse it with the hose, but the hose was frozen. I took the shop-vac to the bathroom, filled the tub with hot water and Pinesol, and flipped on the shop-vac. It started sucking up the pine water, and I thought all was going well until I heard an awful sound and saw the machine spewing soapy, stinky, water all over the walls! As I reached for the switch, I received the best facial I’ve ever had. It was better than Oil of Ol’ Lady lotion. Okay, so my idea sucked, literally.
My husband walked in while I was working on the Campbell’s clean up project, and asked what was going on.
“Soup and soap,” I stated matter-of-factly.
All in a day’s work.
Here’s to clean floors!
About thirty seconds later I heard a loud “Ka-thump, clank-clang, UGH!” and I knew what had happened--the soup was a goner. As I rounded the corner, my daughter yelled, “Get my sweater out of it, and put it in the washer, quick!”
At least the girl was fine. Her $58 sweater and the carpet will never be the same. The walls and the top four steps were baptized in red-orange Campbell’s and the bowl was empty. Not much spilled on the tray or napkins though. My daughter was trying her best to get up the mess with a towel, but I knew this was a job for Super-mom. I sent her downstairs to boil over some more soup while I went to the basement (a.k.a. reptile farm) for the shop-vac. Of course it was all the way under the snake table, but after rearranging the basement, I got it out.
I took the machine upstairs to the tomato track and plugged it in. "Ahhh! Gag! What is that smell?"
My son and Wayne hadn’t washed out the canister when they used the shop-vac to clean up the mess Salina (Wayne’s dog) had made in the garage! I ran outside to empty it. I tried to rinse it with the hose, but the hose was frozen. I took the shop-vac to the bathroom, filled the tub with hot water and Pinesol, and flipped on the shop-vac. It started sucking up the pine water, and I thought all was going well until I heard an awful sound and saw the machine spewing soapy, stinky, water all over the walls! As I reached for the switch, I received the best facial I’ve ever had. It was better than Oil of Ol’ Lady lotion. Okay, so my idea sucked, literally.
My husband walked in while I was working on the Campbell’s clean up project, and asked what was going on.
“Soup and soap,” I stated matter-of-factly.
All in a day’s work.
Here’s to clean floors!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Liquids Plumber
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: October 14, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Liquids Plumber
I hope you are blessed to the bulging as we are. From the subject line above, I bet you thought I had stopped up the sink again. Nope, that was last week. My mom was here then, and she reminded me that I needed to replace the flapper thing in the bottom of the flush tank. She discovered that water was leaking out of the tank slowly and the toilet had to refill itself to stay full. So that’s why it was flushing by itself! I thought I had a phantom in the bathroom and was proud of our plumbing ghost, but when I found out that I was wasting water, I went to Ace hardware and got one of those flapper dillies. By the way, did you know that Ace Hardware sells Pepsi? Saved me a trip to the grocery store. My daughter needed three plastic pop lids for a science project. That means we have a lot of drinking to do so my daughter can have the lids.
While I was trying to repair the toilet, I decided that I could conserve even more water if I put a bottle filled with water inside the tank to take up some of the space. I found a 48 oz. bottle of Welch’s grape juice in the fridge. There was only a little left, so I drank it, and then filled the bottle with water, and put it in the tank. It was too light, and it floated. Plan B: Sunny D. I found a 64 oz. partially full bottle of Sunny Delight. All my Rubbermaid gizmos were in the refrigerator developing new life forms, so I had nothing to pour the rest of the Sunny D into. I drank the rest of it, filled the bottle with water and put it in the tank. Still, too light. I went back to the fridge and drank the rest of one of the 2-liters of Pepsi, filled the bottle with water and put it in the tank. It worked! I had to pee by then, but the flapper dilly wasn’t yet installed. That’s when the phone rang.
My friend asked the required phone conversation activation question, “What are you doing?”
“Drinking,” I replied.
I cleaned out the refrigerator today. It’s amazing what you may find when looking into those plastic containers after about a month of incubation. I suggested my daughter use one of them for her science project, but she insisted that we hurry and drink the Pepsi so she can have the lids. At least she’s speaking to me again. In fact, as I type, she is serenading me on her piccolo with the highest and loudest notes she can play. She is supposed to tape record a piece for her band tryouts but she forgot to bring home the music. Good thing too, because she had already figured out who to use my keyboard to synthesize the flute and not get points off for breathing in the wrong places. She has joined a group of people at school who want to form a Peace Corp for Ireland to stop the fighting between the Protestants and Catholics. I imagine Ireland will have peace before the residents of this house do.
DATE: October 14, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Liquids Plumber
I hope you are blessed to the bulging as we are. From the subject line above, I bet you thought I had stopped up the sink again. Nope, that was last week. My mom was here then, and she reminded me that I needed to replace the flapper thing in the bottom of the flush tank. She discovered that water was leaking out of the tank slowly and the toilet had to refill itself to stay full. So that’s why it was flushing by itself! I thought I had a phantom in the bathroom and was proud of our plumbing ghost, but when I found out that I was wasting water, I went to Ace hardware and got one of those flapper dillies. By the way, did you know that Ace Hardware sells Pepsi? Saved me a trip to the grocery store. My daughter needed three plastic pop lids for a science project. That means we have a lot of drinking to do so my daughter can have the lids.
While I was trying to repair the toilet, I decided that I could conserve even more water if I put a bottle filled with water inside the tank to take up some of the space. I found a 48 oz. bottle of Welch’s grape juice in the fridge. There was only a little left, so I drank it, and then filled the bottle with water, and put it in the tank. It was too light, and it floated. Plan B: Sunny D. I found a 64 oz. partially full bottle of Sunny Delight. All my Rubbermaid gizmos were in the refrigerator developing new life forms, so I had nothing to pour the rest of the Sunny D into. I drank the rest of it, filled the bottle with water and put it in the tank. Still, too light. I went back to the fridge and drank the rest of one of the 2-liters of Pepsi, filled the bottle with water and put it in the tank. It worked! I had to pee by then, but the flapper dilly wasn’t yet installed. That’s when the phone rang.
My friend asked the required phone conversation activation question, “What are you doing?”
“Drinking,” I replied.
I cleaned out the refrigerator today. It’s amazing what you may find when looking into those plastic containers after about a month of incubation. I suggested my daughter use one of them for her science project, but she insisted that we hurry and drink the Pepsi so she can have the lids. At least she’s speaking to me again. In fact, as I type, she is serenading me on her piccolo with the highest and loudest notes she can play. She is supposed to tape record a piece for her band tryouts but she forgot to bring home the music. Good thing too, because she had already figured out who to use my keyboard to synthesize the flute and not get points off for breathing in the wrong places. She has joined a group of people at school who want to form a Peace Corp for Ireland to stop the fighting between the Protestants and Catholics. I imagine Ireland will have peace before the residents of this house do.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Can we keep him?
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: September 15, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Can we keep him?
I’m not sure we’re going to be able to keep Chuck. He is much more depressed than we thought. He came in at 1:00 a.m. and took a whole bottle of Excedrin P.M. Later he thought perhaps he didn’t want to die yet, and he decided to drive himself to the hospital. He’s new in town, and didn’t know how to find a hospital. Instead of calling us, he called the police. They drove him to the emergency room where he had his stomach pumped. He was released, and was tucked away in the bed upstairs before I woke up this morning. I don’t know how he got his car home.
How can I tell my kids that we can’t let Chuck stay here because he’s too messed up?
DATE: September 15, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Can we keep him?
I’m not sure we’re going to be able to keep Chuck. He is much more depressed than we thought. He came in at 1:00 a.m. and took a whole bottle of Excedrin P.M. Later he thought perhaps he didn’t want to die yet, and he decided to drive himself to the hospital. He’s new in town, and didn’t know how to find a hospital. Instead of calling us, he called the police. They drove him to the emergency room where he had his stomach pumped. He was released, and was tucked away in the bed upstairs before I woke up this morning. I don’t know how he got his car home.
How can I tell my kids that we can’t let Chuck stay here because he’s too messed up?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Chuck is back
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: August 30, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Chuck is back
Chuck came back with all his stuff today. He took the critters to Wayne’s house but Wayne is moving and couldn’t keep them. That’s why we have Wayne’s dog, remember? I went to the garage today to get something from my car. That’s when I noticed that another aquarium had been smuggled in. I went to inspect the contents and there was that damn alligator and a baby crocodile to boot! Chuck couldn’t find anyone to take them. Duh! No one wants an overgrown lizard with crusher jaws and teeth. I can’t believe this. I said “No alligator!”
“They are just babies,” my son and Chuck explained.
“I don’t care! You were babies once and now look; you’ve grown up and had reptiles!”
I didn’t sign up for this. Why didn’t anyone warn me about teenagers BEFORE I had kids? Warnings should be given in high school Sex Ed classes.
Okay. Let’s take an inventory: one 6-foot python, a dead three-legged dragon, a bucket of live grub worms, one alligator, one crocodile, one blind dog, Wayne’s German shepherd, two aquariums of fish, and a rat in a cage that doesn’t realize he’s on death row. Someone at work today asked me if I wanted a free kitten. I almost slapped her.
A neighbor called the number on Salina’s tag and demanded that Wayne come get his dog. So Wayne called my son, who called me, and asked me to retrieve the dog. Do I look like I work for Animal Control? I told him I was headed to a meeting and that the doggie round up would have to wait.
“But the lady is going to call the dog pound, mom. Please go get Salina”, he pleaded.
I gave in and drove to the lady’s house. The stupid dog refused to get in the truck. Instead she rolled over on her back, turned limp, and lay there like a 50-pound dishrag. I couldn’t pick her up, and I was mad as hell about being late for my meeting. I gave the nice lady my phone number, and called My Son to tell him I was not successful in the rescue effort. I got to my meeting only to find Mr. Codes holding the phone out to me. “It’s for you, Expressy--something about a dog loose in the neighborhood.”
Wayne and my son were out trying to retrieve the runaway, but couldn’t find the lady’s house or the dog. I left the meeting, met the boys at my house, lead them to the lady’s house, and drove off fuming a prayer on my way back to the meeting, “God, this is not funny! That idiot dog poops in my garage, whines and barks at night, breaks off her chain in the daytime, and I get to help bring her back? Excuse me, was this in the contract?”
I’m having a tee shirt printed that reads:
Codependent
Been there, done that
Gave away my best tee shirt!
The kids cleaned their rooms today. I have dishes in the cabinet that I had forgotten we owned. The cabinet is so full that the doors won’t close. However, Chuck seems to be getting over his lost love. He has a new girlfriend: Wayne’s sister. I hope she doesn’t have any animals she wants to loan us. I have Animal Control on my speed dial in case I get the notion to evict some tenants.
Just call me Wacho woman.
DATE: August 30, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Chuck is back
Chuck came back with all his stuff today. He took the critters to Wayne’s house but Wayne is moving and couldn’t keep them. That’s why we have Wayne’s dog, remember? I went to the garage today to get something from my car. That’s when I noticed that another aquarium had been smuggled in. I went to inspect the contents and there was that damn alligator and a baby crocodile to boot! Chuck couldn’t find anyone to take them. Duh! No one wants an overgrown lizard with crusher jaws and teeth. I can’t believe this. I said “No alligator!”
“They are just babies,” my son and Chuck explained.
“I don’t care! You were babies once and now look; you’ve grown up and had reptiles!”
I didn’t sign up for this. Why didn’t anyone warn me about teenagers BEFORE I had kids? Warnings should be given in high school Sex Ed classes.
Okay. Let’s take an inventory: one 6-foot python, a dead three-legged dragon, a bucket of live grub worms, one alligator, one crocodile, one blind dog, Wayne’s German shepherd, two aquariums of fish, and a rat in a cage that doesn’t realize he’s on death row. Someone at work today asked me if I wanted a free kitten. I almost slapped her.
A neighbor called the number on Salina’s tag and demanded that Wayne come get his dog. So Wayne called my son, who called me, and asked me to retrieve the dog. Do I look like I work for Animal Control? I told him I was headed to a meeting and that the doggie round up would have to wait.
“But the lady is going to call the dog pound, mom. Please go get Salina”, he pleaded.
I gave in and drove to the lady’s house. The stupid dog refused to get in the truck. Instead she rolled over on her back, turned limp, and lay there like a 50-pound dishrag. I couldn’t pick her up, and I was mad as hell about being late for my meeting. I gave the nice lady my phone number, and called My Son to tell him I was not successful in the rescue effort. I got to my meeting only to find Mr. Codes holding the phone out to me. “It’s for you, Expressy--something about a dog loose in the neighborhood.”
Wayne and my son were out trying to retrieve the runaway, but couldn’t find the lady’s house or the dog. I left the meeting, met the boys at my house, lead them to the lady’s house, and drove off fuming a prayer on my way back to the meeting, “God, this is not funny! That idiot dog poops in my garage, whines and barks at night, breaks off her chain in the daytime, and I get to help bring her back? Excuse me, was this in the contract?”
I’m having a tee shirt printed that reads:
Codependent
Been there, done that
Gave away my best tee shirt!
The kids cleaned their rooms today. I have dishes in the cabinet that I had forgotten we owned. The cabinet is so full that the doors won’t close. However, Chuck seems to be getting over his lost love. He has a new girlfriend: Wayne’s sister. I hope she doesn’t have any animals she wants to loan us. I have Animal Control on my speed dial in case I get the notion to evict some tenants.
Just call me Wacho woman.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Demon Possessed?
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: August 27, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Demon Possessed?
I’ve got to buy a new vacuum cleaner. Ours tried to eat something in my son’s room and choked. That reminds me, you should see a python eat a rat. It’s rather interesting to watch. Who needs the discovery channel? We have a zoo in our basement.
Last night was a beautiful night and the lightening bugs (fireflies) were out in high numbers. I remembered giving fireflies to a frog we had in captivity when the kids were little. We got a kick out of watching his belly light up. I thought Stumpy would enjoy a delicacy so I fed him several of the glow bugs last night. When I went to his cage this morning he was stiff as a board. I thought he was hibernating again, but it was 90 degrees in his cage. I picked him up to see if I could feel him breathing, but the smell gave the final confirmation. A graveside service is being planned for this afternoon when the kids get home from school. They will not be happy to know that their mother is a lizard killer. I felt so badly about killing my son’s pet dragon. I cried all morning. Life is just too sad sometimes.
Chuck tends to forget to come home at night, and he doesn’t call to say he’s staying out. I think he sleeps wherever he lands when he’s had too much to drink. He really needs professional help, but counseling is not included in the room and board at our facility. I talk to him and try to help. He listens, but he doesn’t apply my advice. He says he’s demon possessed. I suppose it’s possible--I did find a chicken claw in his room. But he’s a nice kid, and I like having him around. He sits on the bar stool and talks to me while I cook dinner. He eats anything I put on the table and never complains! In fact, he ate every science project I had stored in Tupperware in the refrigerator, and he didn’t even get sick. He even ate the lasagna scraps I had mixed with canned dog food for Indi. I had a big bowl on the counter, and was attempting to make homemade craft paper. I mixed scraps of newspaper, Kleenex, notebook paper, Elmer’s glue and water, and set it aside to soften. I caught Chuck in time to stop him from heating it in the microwave. He thought it was oatmeal. The poor kid! I’d like to find a good home for him. Does anyone want a hungry boy with an alligator?
DATE: August 27, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Demon Possessed?
I’ve got to buy a new vacuum cleaner. Ours tried to eat something in my son’s room and choked. That reminds me, you should see a python eat a rat. It’s rather interesting to watch. Who needs the discovery channel? We have a zoo in our basement.
Last night was a beautiful night and the lightening bugs (fireflies) were out in high numbers. I remembered giving fireflies to a frog we had in captivity when the kids were little. We got a kick out of watching his belly light up. I thought Stumpy would enjoy a delicacy so I fed him several of the glow bugs last night. When I went to his cage this morning he was stiff as a board. I thought he was hibernating again, but it was 90 degrees in his cage. I picked him up to see if I could feel him breathing, but the smell gave the final confirmation. A graveside service is being planned for this afternoon when the kids get home from school. They will not be happy to know that their mother is a lizard killer. I felt so badly about killing my son’s pet dragon. I cried all morning. Life is just too sad sometimes.
Chuck tends to forget to come home at night, and he doesn’t call to say he’s staying out. I think he sleeps wherever he lands when he’s had too much to drink. He really needs professional help, but counseling is not included in the room and board at our facility. I talk to him and try to help. He listens, but he doesn’t apply my advice. He says he’s demon possessed. I suppose it’s possible--I did find a chicken claw in his room. But he’s a nice kid, and I like having him around. He sits on the bar stool and talks to me while I cook dinner. He eats anything I put on the table and never complains! In fact, he ate every science project I had stored in Tupperware in the refrigerator, and he didn’t even get sick. He even ate the lasagna scraps I had mixed with canned dog food for Indi. I had a big bowl on the counter, and was attempting to make homemade craft paper. I mixed scraps of newspaper, Kleenex, notebook paper, Elmer’s glue and water, and set it aside to soften. I caught Chuck in time to stop him from heating it in the microwave. He thought it was oatmeal. The poor kid! I’d like to find a good home for him. Does anyone want a hungry boy with an alligator?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
No Vacancy!
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: August 21, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: No vacancy!
Chuck went back to Ohio to pick up the rest of his belongings and find a home for his alligator. I allow the bearded dragon and his entourage of grub worms, and I tolerate the snake, but I draw the line at alligators. NO alligators in my house. Chuck called to ask if he could bring a few more friends with him. “That depends. How many legs do they have?” I asked. I feel like I’m running a bed and breakfast for the local zoo. All the rooms are full, and we have the overflow in cages in the basement. I had to decline Chuck’s request, and hang out the "No Vacancy" sign.
The blind dog’s ears were so matted that she looked like she had dreadlocks. Except for her under bite, she fit right in with the teenagers. I gave the dog to my husband with some detangling rinse, and asked him to comb her. I took the scissors to him just in case there were a few tangles he couldn’t remove. A while later when the dog walked by, I screamed. She had no ears! Indy seemed pleased with her new look, but then again, she’s blind. My daughter almost cried when she saw her. The dog has no idea how pitiful she looks. It could take months for her to grow new ears.
My Son knocked on my bedroom door at 9:30 p.m. to announce that Wayne was coming over with Salina. They wanted me to meet her, so I got dressed and waited for the arrival of My Son’s friends. About 10 o’clock Wayne walked in with a 60 pound black German shepherd. So, he brought his dog. That’s nice, but "Where’s Salina?" I asked. "Right there," boys chimed, both pointing to the dog.
Salina’s a dog? I got out of bed to meet a dog? My son said his dad had given him permission to let Salina stay in the wildlife ranch in the basement. Is that right? That really doesn’t sound like something My Husband would agree to, but he wasn’t home from work yet so the dog took room and board in the basement and I went back to bed. My husband got home and woke me up wanting to know why there was a black dog in the garage. I told him it was the new boarder he said could stay here.
"I did NOT say that dog could stay here," he said. "She has to go first thing in the morning."
Well, that was three days ago, and I think my husband has fallen for her. He’s been taking her for walks and playing with her in the yard. She broke her chain and has been roaming the neighborhood all day. I’m not going looking for her.
I have to keep the garage locked now. I came home from work Monday, pushed the button to lift the garage door and found two little boys touring the wildlife ranch. I said, “Keith, why are you in my house when I’m not home?”
The third grader said, “I’m locked out of my house, and Elliot and I are thirsty. Your house wasn’t locked so we came on in.”
“Fine. You guys help me carry in the groceries and I’ll get you something to drink. Just leave the snake and lizard alone.”
They finished off the rest of my birthday cake and half gallon of milk while asking 100 questions about snakes. I felt like I was being interviewed by 20/20. They left and I locked the garage.
The smoke detector is going off; supper must be ready. Gotta go.
Love,
Spressy
DATE: August 21, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: No vacancy!
Chuck went back to Ohio to pick up the rest of his belongings and find a home for his alligator. I allow the bearded dragon and his entourage of grub worms, and I tolerate the snake, but I draw the line at alligators. NO alligators in my house. Chuck called to ask if he could bring a few more friends with him. “That depends. How many legs do they have?” I asked. I feel like I’m running a bed and breakfast for the local zoo. All the rooms are full, and we have the overflow in cages in the basement. I had to decline Chuck’s request, and hang out the "No Vacancy" sign.
The blind dog’s ears were so matted that she looked like she had dreadlocks. Except for her under bite, she fit right in with the teenagers. I gave the dog to my husband with some detangling rinse, and asked him to comb her. I took the scissors to him just in case there were a few tangles he couldn’t remove. A while later when the dog walked by, I screamed. She had no ears! Indy seemed pleased with her new look, but then again, she’s blind. My daughter almost cried when she saw her. The dog has no idea how pitiful she looks. It could take months for her to grow new ears.
My Son knocked on my bedroom door at 9:30 p.m. to announce that Wayne was coming over with Salina. They wanted me to meet her, so I got dressed and waited for the arrival of My Son’s friends. About 10 o’clock Wayne walked in with a 60 pound black German shepherd. So, he brought his dog. That’s nice, but "Where’s Salina?" I asked. "Right there," boys chimed, both pointing to the dog.
Salina’s a dog? I got out of bed to meet a dog? My son said his dad had given him permission to let Salina stay in the wildlife ranch in the basement. Is that right? That really doesn’t sound like something My Husband would agree to, but he wasn’t home from work yet so the dog took room and board in the basement and I went back to bed. My husband got home and woke me up wanting to know why there was a black dog in the garage. I told him it was the new boarder he said could stay here.
"I did NOT say that dog could stay here," he said. "She has to go first thing in the morning."
Well, that was three days ago, and I think my husband has fallen for her. He’s been taking her for walks and playing with her in the yard. She broke her chain and has been roaming the neighborhood all day. I’m not going looking for her.
I have to keep the garage locked now. I came home from work Monday, pushed the button to lift the garage door and found two little boys touring the wildlife ranch. I said, “Keith, why are you in my house when I’m not home?”
The third grader said, “I’m locked out of my house, and Elliot and I are thirsty. Your house wasn’t locked so we came on in.”
“Fine. You guys help me carry in the groceries and I’ll get you something to drink. Just leave the snake and lizard alone.”
They finished off the rest of my birthday cake and half gallon of milk while asking 100 questions about snakes. I felt like I was being interviewed by 20/20. They left and I locked the garage.
The smoke detector is going off; supper must be ready. Gotta go.
Love,
Spressy
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Stumpy
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: August 17, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Stumpy
I got to lizard-sit for Stumpy while my son went to Ohio. We had a close call. I went to feed him his grub worms and found him cold and still. I thought he was dead. I thought I sensed movement under his eyelids so I took him outside and put his cage in the sun. A little while later he was normal. He must have been too close to the A/C vent and we refrigerated him into hibernation. He’s hyperactive now that he has a heater rock in his cage.
We have a new house guest. My son brought his friend home from Ohio and told him he could live with us until he got over his depression. That’s real kind of our boy, but Chuck had a nasty break up with his girlfriend and was talking about killing himself. Chuck is a nice enough guy, but he does have a drinking problem, and sometimes he does drugs, and stays out all night. So, we’ve gone from animal house to rehab center.
Since the python got loose in the garage last week, I always glance at the snake cage before I get out of my car. When I drove into the garage tonight, the cage was empty! I honked the horn and rolled down my window, yelling for my son. I sat there for a while but no one came to my rescue. I couldn’t stay in the car all night so I darted for the steps and ran into the house. Boy, was I relieved to find that snake dangling around my son’s neck.
DATE: August 17, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Stumpy
I got to lizard-sit for Stumpy while my son went to Ohio. We had a close call. I went to feed him his grub worms and found him cold and still. I thought he was dead. I thought I sensed movement under his eyelids so I took him outside and put his cage in the sun. A little while later he was normal. He must have been too close to the A/C vent and we refrigerated him into hibernation. He’s hyperactive now that he has a heater rock in his cage.
We have a new house guest. My son brought his friend home from Ohio and told him he could live with us until he got over his depression. That’s real kind of our boy, but Chuck had a nasty break up with his girlfriend and was talking about killing himself. Chuck is a nice enough guy, but he does have a drinking problem, and sometimes he does drugs, and stays out all night. So, we’ve gone from animal house to rehab center.
Since the python got loose in the garage last week, I always glance at the snake cage before I get out of my car. When I drove into the garage tonight, the cage was empty! I honked the horn and rolled down my window, yelling for my son. I sat there for a while but no one came to my rescue. I couldn’t stay in the car all night so I darted for the steps and ran into the house. Boy, was I relieved to find that snake dangling around my son’s neck.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Granny
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: July 16, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Granny
Here’s the story of the week. I went to Wal-Mart after work today to pick up another round of antibiotics for the “bump” I have on my gum. The cashier in the pharmacy was a cranky 90-year-old woman. She told me my prescription had not been phoned in yet. I explained that I had spoken with Sharon at Dr. Gumcut’s office that morning, and that she was calling it in then. Granny just shrugged her shoulders. I asked if her pharmacy phone number was 331-3411 and she said, “Yes.” I went to a payphone and called Dr. Gumcut’s office. Sharon promised she phoned it in at 9:30 a.m., so I went back to the pharmacy, and demanded my drugs. The pharmacist swore he had not received a call from Dr. Gumcut’s office. I got Sharon on the phone again, and she said she’d just talked to the pharmacist at 331-3411 and they have the Rx in their hand! This is not funny. The Motrin I took earlier was wearing off by then, and I was about ready to slap Granny into her next birthday when Sharon said, “Yes, it’s at the corner of Tulipville Road and Belt Road.”
“That’s where I am!” I huffed.
“At Kroger pharmacy,” she added.
“Kroger?!” I gulped as I released the pharmacist’s collar, “I’m at Wal-Mart!” How did my prescription get to Kroger when I had it phoned to Wal-Mart? I’m sure the number I gave Sharon was for Wal-Mart.
I drove across the street to Kroger and sweetly said, “Give me my drugs now!”
They looked at me like I was crazy. I said, “You were just on the phone with Sharon from Dr. Gumcut’s office, right?” No one there had spoken with Sharon. Okay, where’s the camera. I must be on Candid Camera. “Is your phone number 331-3411?” I asked timidly.
“No, that’s Revco - next door.”
“Ahhhh!” I may have to sign up for anger management and coping with stress classes.
I went next door and was allowed to cool off while waiting my turn in line for ten minutes. I had decided that if Revco didn’t have the prescription I was going to have all my teeth pulled. Fortunately they had the prescription, and I still have my teeth.
I blame all this on my mom. It’s her fault my car automatically pulls into the parking lot of every Wal-Mart I pass by. I spent most of my childhood years in a department store waiting for the store to close so I could go home and get to bed. I forgot what my home looked like when Wal-Mart started staying open 24/7.
Gotta go for now. I need to take more Motrin.
DATE: July 16, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com, fickle@nanabooboo.org, lungeforth@takealeap.net, warrior1@battlefield.com, ballerina@dancerprancer.org
SUBJECT: Granny
Here’s the story of the week. I went to Wal-Mart after work today to pick up another round of antibiotics for the “bump” I have on my gum. The cashier in the pharmacy was a cranky 90-year-old woman. She told me my prescription had not been phoned in yet. I explained that I had spoken with Sharon at Dr. Gumcut’s office that morning, and that she was calling it in then. Granny just shrugged her shoulders. I asked if her pharmacy phone number was 331-3411 and she said, “Yes.” I went to a payphone and called Dr. Gumcut’s office. Sharon promised she phoned it in at 9:30 a.m., so I went back to the pharmacy, and demanded my drugs. The pharmacist swore he had not received a call from Dr. Gumcut’s office. I got Sharon on the phone again, and she said she’d just talked to the pharmacist at 331-3411 and they have the Rx in their hand! This is not funny. The Motrin I took earlier was wearing off by then, and I was about ready to slap Granny into her next birthday when Sharon said, “Yes, it’s at the corner of Tulipville Road and Belt Road.”
“That’s where I am!” I huffed.
“At Kroger pharmacy,” she added.
“Kroger?!” I gulped as I released the pharmacist’s collar, “I’m at Wal-Mart!” How did my prescription get to Kroger when I had it phoned to Wal-Mart? I’m sure the number I gave Sharon was for Wal-Mart.
I drove across the street to Kroger and sweetly said, “Give me my drugs now!”
They looked at me like I was crazy. I said, “You were just on the phone with Sharon from Dr. Gumcut’s office, right?” No one there had spoken with Sharon. Okay, where’s the camera. I must be on Candid Camera. “Is your phone number 331-3411?” I asked timidly.
“No, that’s Revco - next door.”
“Ahhhh!” I may have to sign up for anger management and coping with stress classes.
I went next door and was allowed to cool off while waiting my turn in line for ten minutes. I had decided that if Revco didn’t have the prescription I was going to have all my teeth pulled. Fortunately they had the prescription, and I still have my teeth.
I blame all this on my mom. It’s her fault my car automatically pulls into the parking lot of every Wal-Mart I pass by. I spent most of my childhood years in a department store waiting for the store to close so I could go home and get to bed. I forgot what my home looked like when Wal-Mart started staying open 24/7.
Gotta go for now. I need to take more Motrin.
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