I'm Hissterical

This past Thursday, May 21st, marked the one year anniversary of Pootie getting bit by a snake. In honor of her not dying, we had a special dinner to commemorate the occasion. The menu included:

Cro-Fab-ulous Cheeseburger Sandwiches
Carrot Fingers
Snakey Sewer Water (grape pop)

And for dessert we had Snake Eggs (Chewy Nerds) and Baby Cottonmouths (gummy worms).

I crack myself up.

Certain Restrictions May Apply

Glaringly absent from the Mothers Day festivities a couple weekends ago was Snick. He was too tired and didn't want to come downstairs just for ME on MOTHERS DAY which pissed Pootie off to no end (and is a prime example of why his name is Snickety).

But when everything died down and everyone was lounging around on my bed (you know, helping me relax) he came down with an obviously-just-made coupon book.

I LOVE homemade gifts the best. I honestly do. But these coupons have me convinced Snick has a very successful future as the guy who comes up with the small print at the bottom of credit card offers.

He is the kid (*cough* 4th grader!) that we were told needed tutoring in writing, as in drawing letters not composing stories. It was pretty illegible, but he read them to me. Here are the highlights.

One coupon was for "One free borrow. Anything of mine you want to borrow, but only ONE thing for. . . . . . . ONE WEEK OR LESS!!!!" He wrote and said that last part like that was one spectacular deal I was getting. I've been racking my brain but I can't come up with anything a 9 year old boy owns that I'm just dying to get my hands on. But I'll hang on to it for a few years and see what he gets for Christmas from Grandma.

Another one was a freebie coupon for anything. The "Your Choice" coupon. Disclaimer: "But not too hard." Clearly he's on to me and knows that if I were given My Choice of Anything in the Whole Entire World it would be for him to do a chore.

Even though I didn't get it or anything close to it that morning, I did receive a coupon for 1 free breakfast in bed.


It looks like the stipulation for this one is that it will only be honored if I become pregnant again. Or am on my death bed. Which is a certainty if I became pregnant again.

The last one is a coupon for "one free car wash". But that isn't as endearing it seems either. The strings attached to that one are that "it has to be on a warm day and only on the outside because the inside is too disgusting." You know because those ar MY candy wrappers, empty pop cans, toys and dirty socks back there. And cleaning it up for me would just be sending the wrong message.

:) Thanks, Snick. You made my day.

**My own disclaimer: It really was great day and I love everything they did for me (such as provide blog fodder) and gave to me (except the migraine).

Flipper

ed note: I thought maybe if I start doing Almost Wordless Wednesday posts I'll at least be blogging once a week which is more than I've done in a while. So here's my first installment. (These words don't count though. That starts right . . . . now!)

Yes, he did this on purpose. Yes he landed on his feet. No, not in the flower bed.

Gimme A Break, Gimme A Break

Once upon a time before I had the glamorous life of SAHM, I actually showered everyday and got dressed before noon because I had two jobs (but only two kids). One (job, not kid) was full-time at a hospital and the other was part-time doing billing for a shop that put together and delivered gift baskets. I was usually all alone at night upstairs at the gift shop, just the way I like it, but it was very busy during the holidays so in December I had company.

On one such occasion all the basket-making elves were busy, busy, busy behind me when the owner's teenage daughter went downstairs on a snack run and asked if I wanted anything. Since I actually had a metabolism back then, she got me a Pepsi and a Kit Kat. This was when the standard bar came with FOUR Kit Kat fingers, not three like they do now. (BTW - is it super gross that they call them fingers or is it just me for reasons that will become clear by the end of this post?)

I was busy, busy, busy too and had the candy bar on my lap while I typed. I had eaten three of the (gulp) fingers and taken a bite of the fourth when I happened to look down. What I saw was (similar to) this:

Several of them all in the wrapper and coming out of the last half of the last finger of Kit Kat. (Note: Until today whenever I told this story I said they were maggots, but now after some research I think they're Indian Meal Moth worms. That's better, right?)

For those of you who don't know me, I am a very picky eater. My kids have NOTHING on me when it comes to food pickiness. And remember Fear Factor? I gagged at every eating-nasty-$#!t challenge they ever had. Literally, violently gagged to the point where I would gross out the kids and they'd start to gag too and we'd have tears running down our faces, both from retching and laughing at each other.

But I'm not a panicky person and managed to keep my poop in a group and not flip out. Mostly I didn't want anyone to notice me and start gathering around. So I took a few deep breaths and calmed down and told myself that people in Africa (and other places I don't want to go) eat worms and grubs all the time, if not worse things.

It worked. I crumpled up the wrapper with the maggot motel inside and chugged some Pepsi.

I set back to work without anyone noticing that I was a disgusting worm eater who should be squatting in the dirt in third-world country.

Until....

I looked down again and saw a straggler writhing around on my skirt, spastically flipping its tail back and forth like a jedi swinging his lightsaber.

That's when I ran and, luckily, made it to the bathroom before I barfed those mofos up. So much for keeping the worm-eater thing under wraps.

Monk It

I have too much blog material. Can you believe that? Usually I have nothing to write about. But now I have too much. Too much, as in there is so much crap going on in our lives and I can't even find time to blog. I could probably find a few minutes to type, but I don't have time or energy to put it together in my head. Its a blessing. And a curse. But mostly just a curse because there is just too much to deal with besides all the daily grind stuff like dentist appointments, school volunteering, basketball practices and games, track practice, swim practice and meets and . . . well. You get it. Regular stuff.

Maybe I should switch to Twittering instead. Then I could send out Tweets with just the facts of my life. Here's how it would have progressed over the last couple months:

Woo hoo! Heading to Cayman in a few days. Can't wait!

Scratch Cayman. Taz got arrested 4 bringing a knife to bus stop. Yes, bus stop not school. No, he didn't do anything but bury it. And yes, ARRESTED.

Tweet from juvie. Taz is spending the night.

How do lawyers sleep at night?? Four thousand dollars but that only covers UP TO IF he goes to trial. Effing shyster.

Got Taz out by the skin of his teeth.

Cayman back on. We have GOT to get out of here for a while.

SSB has had a fever since we landed. Way to ruin it, Honey!

Hey look! A barracuda just ate my toenail as it floated by him.

SSB's fever has finally broke last night. According to the mattress, so did about 50 water balloons.

Just spent $80 in cell phone charges because of a Bugaboo meltdown.

We're back! We sobered up long enough to get on the plane & come home. Should have stayed drunk. I mean should have stayed in Cayman. No. I mean both.

Taz is under house arrest. Isn't that more of a punishment for us??

Pootie Pie's guinea pig screams and jumps around all day banging against his cage. WTF?

Taz has officially been expelled from school and has to go to alternative school, which we have to drive him to and from. More punishment for US.

Got a note that Snick needs tutoring in writing. Not just writing as in composing stories, but as in PRINTING WORDS. He's in 4th grade.

Bunny has a cavity between her front teeth and has to go under general anesthesia to get it fixed. SSB is a mess.

Bman had field trip to see the play Stellaluna. He liked the book but hated the play. He hates it when real people act stuff out.

Tweeting from jewelry party. I don't wear jewelry but they have the free drinks.

Haven't heard from lawyer, DA or probation officer. Why is Taz being punished without even being charged???

Went hiking with the kids and didn't lose any of them. For long. Got a text from Dupree from softball tourny that said he broke his face. Whats that all about?

Dupree broke his face. He won't go to the ER because he doesn't have insurance. Or money.

Its official! He broke his face. In like 10 places. Going to a maxillofacial surgeon tomorrow. Got Mom's cc number.

Pootie's guinea pig's hair is falling out. I wonder if he has mites.

Dupree needs surgery or his eye will fall down into his sunken cheek. Anyone remember The Goonies? Sloth love Chunk!!

Suspicious Facebook entries on Bugaboo's page. Are she and the Cradle Robber doing it?

Got rates for self-pay patients. Surgery will be about $6500 total. If it happened to me I think they'd charge my insurance close to 100k.

Mom, Dad, sister and niece are here for the surgery. And now so is Old Grandad.

Got to hosp and they said they wanted $12,000 up front, not the $2625 they quoted me. What is wrong with people?

Dupree told them to shove it & went to apologize to the surgeon. In the midst of the drama, the hosp agreed to take a check for 10% and he went to the OR.

It took 6 plates and 25 screws to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Taz had his DA-ordered psych eval. Passed with flying colors. Did he just lie through his teeth? Do I care?

SSB flipped OUT when he checked Bunny's mouth. "OMIGOD! OMIGOD! Her tooth!" Laughed my @$$ off when he fished out a white Nerd.

In 1 yr of speech therapy, Snick has only mastered 1 R sound but brings his homework back to the therapist all checked off. I didn't even know he HAD speech homework.

I liked Dupree's surgeon so much I'm taking Bman to him for his snoring. Surgery scheduled for next week.

Got a call from Taz's probation officer that he is being charged. We have not been served.

Reg mtg for Taz and Pootie for HS next year. Taz is taking the same electives as Pootie & therefore steam is coming out of her ears & totally making my hair go flat.

Forgot about summer swimming program reg at the pool where Bugaboo works. They took a blank check w/them but now Pootie is too shy to stand in line by herself while Bugaboo is working.

At dinner with geeks from SSB's work. So this is what it feels like to be suicidal.

Pootie just greased up her guinea pig with udder cream. I read that it helps. Gross.

Even grosser is a greasy dead guinea pig in the cage this morning. Pretty sure it wasn't because of the udder cream.

Bman just drank his "silly juice" before surgery. When I brought up his Jedi jammies he jumped up and started swinging an imaginary light saber.

We still haven't been served. Probation officer never seemed too much on the ball. Maybe she got her juveniles mixed up.

Am up at 1 a.m. with Bunny. She can't breathe and we're giving her breathing treatments around the clock.

Took Bunny to the dr this morning for more breathing treatments but they are admitting her to the hosptial.

We've been at the hospital for a few hours now and Bunny has pushed the nurse call button 4 times despite my admonishments to not touch the red one.

And that's where I am now. Yeah. Here's the thing. 2009 was supposed to be BETTER. This doesn't feel like better.





(OK. Some of these are too long to actually be on Twitter, but I'm too tired to actually count the characters and shorten any fake Tweets that are over 140.)

With Apologies to Joan Jett (and her fans)

Right now she's the sweetest girl you've ever seen
I can't believe Bugaboo is seventeen.
Our list of kids is long.
But she's our favorite one.
And I can tell it won't be long
Till she will leave me, yeah me.
And I can tell it won't be long
Till she will leave me, yeah me, singin'

I'm on birth control.
I'll put another nail in your coffin, Mommy.
I'm out on parole.
Come and waste your time and lecture me.
OW!

She smiles so sweet and flips her golden mane
My room don't matter she says
Cuz its always the same
She said though I'm never home
You can call my phone

And next she's movin' on
Without me, yeah me
Next she's movin' on
Without me, yeah me, singin'

I just smoked a bowl
Got a dime bag in my sock drawer, Mommy
I just sold my soul
So go and waste your time and pray for me.
OW!

I'll say I'm takin' you home
Your care-free days are blown

No more movin' on
Livin' back with me, yeah me
And she won't be movin' on
But singin' a brand new song
Yeah, with me, singin'

I walked a rocky road
Got put in my place real quick by Mommy
A debt to her is owed
Please come and take a chance and rescue me.

Homemade Love

Last year Beeman wanted to make homemade Valentines for his Kindergarten class. I saw these in Family Fun magazine and thought they were very cute. But cuteness comes at a price. It took for-freaking-ever to just do the prep work and cut all the squares and slots and strips and hearts and I was glad I started a week early.

Getting him to sit down and weave them and then write on them was an even bigger chore. He got about halfway through when he decided he wasn't going to write on them anymore, only sign his name. He was very distressed when I didn't agree with his plan.

This year I thought for sure he would want to buy some from the store and was shocked and dismayed when he said he wants to make them again. The same kind. Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut and pick up a box of Transformers valentines? Why, oh why, oh why? So the cutting begins. With 2-year-old help of course.

Gotta Say

I gotta say Matt Leinert I mean Kurt Warner cleans up nice. He got that suit on QUICK after the Superbowl didn't he??? I'm impressed. Me likey.

Ugly Toe Does Cayman

OK. OK. OK. So No one really wants look at our pictures of Cayman. I get it. But I do want to show you these.

So as you all vividly remember, I broke my toe right before my big 4-0 bday. Strangely enough, the nail never got loose, it was just a little bit raised. I thought for sure I was going to lose it, but never did.

But then SSB and I went to Cayman and bought snorkeling equipment. Flippers. Mask. Snorkel. Kit. Caboodle. We snorkeled and dove and had a blast. But on Day 4 we were snorkeling right off the beach at the resort and we saw a barracuda under the dock and it scared the bejeebus out of me and I HIGHTAILED it back to the sand on the double. As I sat there picturing kittens and butterflies I looked down and noticed that MY TOENAIL WAS GONE!!! I checked my flipper, but it wasn't there. It was fish food.

So, just like the Travelocity Roaming Gnome on all his adventures, I took pictures of it around the island just for you.

Ugly Toe at Rum Point

Ugly Toe on Seven Mile Beach


Ugly Toe on the boat to Stingray City


Ugly Toe and Ugly Friend


Ugly Toe at the Marriott


Ugly Toe IN the Marriott

Ugly Toe with a sand snowman

Ugly Toe with a sand boob
(or something - I don't know, we didn't make it)

Babies!!!

So we've had a little trouble here at the epicenter of the universe with one of the kids so I've been a little distracted and unbloggy. And because of that trouble SSB and I only made it to Grand Cayman for our much-anticipated vacation by the skin of our teeth but we are here, albeit a few days later than planned.

Actually today is our last full day and M&V left this morning. We were all supposed to leave together but our itinerary got rearranged at the beginning AND the end. Oh well. It's the middle that matters anyway.

I will (probably) blog a whole travel log that I've kept when we get back (cuz I know everyone is always thrilled to hear about other people's vacations!) but until then I wanted to direct you over the the Queen B's blog about a family going to Guatemala to live in and oversee the baby dorm of an orphanage (Casa Para Ninos Aleluya). Newborns to 5 years old. I don't know about you, but I can't even imagine a better way to serve God. ITS BABIES!!! 60 to 100 BABIES just wanting to be fed and held and cuddle and loved. Its like a dream job. I mean, if you can stop yourself from thinking about the sadness of them being orphans in the first place or what might happen to them later. And maybe the safety of your own family while you're there. But its God's work. You'd have the Big Guy on your side.

I'm sitting on the beach in paradise crying my eyes out at the opportunity this family has and the fact that they have taken it. I wonder if they need a few pairs of hands from Texas to help out. Hmmmmmmm.

BABIES!

Pink Baby 2.0

To add to my stress level while Bunny was in the hospital a couple weeks ago, my cell phone (a Cingular POS) was dying a slow death. Whenever I tried to charge it, nothing happened. Then when I went to unplug it, the guts came out with the plug. If I held on to it real tight I could get it to charge, but I got several hand cramps that way.

So last weekend when it finally gave up the ghost and wouldn't charge at all, we went phone shopping and this is what I got:

I call her Pink Baby 2.0. I'm not really in to pink or cutesy, but I must have been in a cutesy mood that day.

The original Pink Baby is a doll I was given by my Uncle Jim and Aunt Rose when I was born. I looooooved that doll when I was little. Other dolls came and went but Pink Baby remained. For a time when I slept with every stuffed animal I had, she held the coveted space next to me. When I read to myself in bed I pretended to hook up wires from my head to her's so she could listen to the story too. (How lazy is that? I wouldn't even read out loud to her.) She slept under my arm pushed under my chin and as the night wore on, eventually she got squished beneath me. But it was OK because she was soft.

She wore a fuzzy pink snowsuit-type thing that didn't come off and covered her hands and feet. And she had a music box in her back. I don't remember what it played, maybe Rockabye Baby, but I remember when it broke and my mom performed a laminectomy on her and took it out. She still has the scar.

I am the only one who has ever loved her. Everyone else who sees her makes fun of her and I just don't get it. They think she's creepy because she has no hands, scabby knees, and ham hocks. Oh, and because I cut off 2 of the 3 little wisps of hair that poked through her hood.

What do you think? Creepy or totally lovable?

Bunny Breath and a Cookie

Last week we woke up at 5 a.m. and Bunny was having a hard time breathing. She was working really hard just to squeeze a wheeze out. We didn't have any Albuterol for the nebulizer, only the steroid Pulmicort and when I called the pharmacy for a quick refill I found out we didn't have any left. Beeman had just done a mask the night before and I didn't realize that was the last one left.

I brought her in to the doctor's office at 9:00 and 5 breathing treatments, 6 suckers, and 4 times of watching Toy Story over and over later we were sent to the hospital. She hadn't gotten worse during the day, but none of the treatments made her better either.

Doesn't she look like she needs to be hospitalized???

They really shouldn't have parked that wheelchair in her room. It was the hit of the day when the kids came to visit her. Note her gloves and tippy toes. Tee hee!The floor was covered with black marks after they left.

The hospital staff was AWESOME. Because of her food allergies there wasn't a lot on the menu she could have so the Dietary staff even went out that night and got her some Rice Krispies and rice milk for breakfast the next morning. That was above and beyond, I thought. I hope they send me a survey to fill out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

SSB got up at 4:30 a.m. on Black Friday and went and bought us an awesome new TV because ours petered out a few weeks ago.

Of course the best part for the kids was the big box it came in. They got in it like a big sled and slid down then stairs over and over and over. Each time they added a twist that made it a little scarier. Right before one particularly harrowing ride down I heard Beeman say, "If we don't make it, put a cookie on my grave."

I don't know where he came up with that one, but it cracked me up!

Honor

A couple months ago Bugaboo received a letter saying she had been nominated for the National Honor Society. I didn't think she'd want to do it, but the day the application and essays were due she scrambled to get it all in on time.

A few weeks after that I got a letter saying she had been accepted. Woo hoo! I thought it was very exciting but she didn't seem to share my enthusiasm. She took the letter and put it in her room.

As she was leaving for school on Monday the 3rd of this month she said, "Are you going to be there tonight? It starts at 7 and I'm supposed to work until then, but maybe I can get someone to take my last lesson and cover for me." Huh? SSB was out of town for the day and Taz had a guitar lesson from 6:45 to 7:30. That's all I knew about.

As I stared at her blankly she said, "The NHS ceremony is tonight." I told her the obstacles in the way but that I would try. Really hard. She left saying OK and still acting like it was no big deal.

I got Dupree to take Taz to his lesson and Pootie watched the younger kids so I got to go to the ceremony. As I was driving into the parking lot Bugaboo texted me, "Are you coming????" Geez. For someone who wants to seem like she doesn't care about this, she sure was caring a lot about this!

Her boyfriend The Cradle Robber met me at the auditorium door and we sat as close to the front as possible. We saw her over on the side and made faces at her, which got us both an admonishing text message. :)

I texted her to just wait because we were going to jump up and down and scream when her name got called.

We didn't do it though. The ceremony wasn't too long or boring and she didn't trip as she walked across the stage to sign her name in the book so it was all good.

All of us are very proud of her.

Shedding A Shivery Tear

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the smell of the cooler air and of ripe apples. I love keeping the window open at night and burying under the warm covers. I love seeing the leaves all over the sidewalks and lawns and watching them skip down the streets like they’re racing with the cars that go by.

Pumpkin patches, scarecrows, geese flying in V’s, homemade potato soup and bread, and thick sweaters. Dark evenings perfect for curling up with a book and a blanket under the soft glow of a lamp.

But amid all this loveliness right about THIS time of fall I get angry. The day after Halloween all the stores drag out the Christmas booty. Half of Wal-Mart is red right now. Red ribbons, red dinnerware, red candles, red dish towels. Everything is red and Christmas-y and I’m thinking “What about Thanksgiving? Why does everyone gloss over the best holiday of them all?”

And it IS the best holiday of them all. No spending money on costumes or presents or baskets full of chocolate tooth-rotting bunnies. Just family, friends and food. I don’t have to worry about disappointing someone by not giving them the exact right thing that they wanted. All I have to give is thanks and that’s easy.

If you look hard you might find some autumn/harvest/orange-ish items on an end cap or in a corner back by the bathrooms and it makes me sad. I know a lot of people get started early on their Christmas shopping, but that is on GIFTS, not décor. There should be more time dedicated to Thanksgiving in retail stores and maybe there will be more time dedicated to in society. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people focused on being thankful and grateful for weeks at a time instead of focusing on what they want to add to their Christmas list?

Shoemaker's Elves

Blah blah blah. Halloween costumes.

Blah blah blah. Trick or Treating.

We've all heard all the stories. Except this one.

The area dentists have some deal with Payless Shoes in which they exchange candy for shoes for the less fortunate. I don't know exactly how it works but its Candy For Shoes. Our elementary school promotes it and we can donate the candy straight to them and they'll get it to the dentists. Last year I let the kids keep a pound of candy each and then we donated the rest.

Apparently the teachers have been talking it up to the students because BeeMan knew all about it. Last night while trick or treating he kind of ran out of steam and said he was done. He had enough for himself AND some shoes. I said all right, he didn't have to go to any more houses.

After we got home and they had their booty all poured out on the floor making Wall Street-worthy trades with each other, BeeMan asked if we could make the leftovers into shoes ourselves.

Suppressing a giggle, I just said no.

He said, "Yeah. I guess you need a special machine."

Yes. Yes, you do. Or some elves.

Pride

I got a letter in the mail last week that said PootiePie had been selected to receive her middle school's "Lion's Pride Award" and there would be a ceremony Friday afternoon right before school let out. She didn't say anything to me about it and I didn't say anything to her about it, thinking it would be a surprise for her Friday afternoon when they told her to go to the auditorium instead of Athletics.

They give out this award to a few students from each grade (6th-8th) every 9 weeks. Bugaboo got one in 7th grade and this is actually Pootie's second time to receive one. The first one she got at the end of 6th grade. A teacher nominates them based on the Six Pillars of Character: Respect, Fairness, Responsibility, Trustworthiness, Caring and Citizenship. Pootie thinks she knows who nominated her because that teacher always makes her sit with "the bad kids".

SSB and Bunny and I headed up to the school with camera in tow for the ceremony. As the choir sang a couple songs to open things up, I scanned the seats for Pootie. No sign of her. Because they were sitting in alphabetic order, I found the kid she was supposed to be next to and saw an empty seat with her name taped to it. Shitballs! No one told her about it. I went out to the front desk and told them and they sent a runner to go get her from class, but she didn't come. When the dismissal bell rang the ceremony was still going on so when I saw her come down the hall I dragged her in there and brought her up to the stage. Several students had not been notified so even though most people were leaving, they were still announcing late-comers. Pootie was mortified and very crabby with me, but by God I was going to get a picture of her receiving that certificate if it killed the both of us.

Seems like the person whose job it was to notify the kids that they had won could use a few lessons in responsibility and trustworthiness. And caring. And respect.

Hippy Chick *Updated*

We went to a 60's party last night at M&V's and I found this shirt for Bunny at the last minute at Goodwill. It makes a better hippy dress than shirt. She loves it and wouldn't let us take it off of her last night OR this morning. She is still wearing it She is the girliest girl EVER. You can't see them in this pic, but her toes are painted the same color so she is feeling very chic.

*UPDATE*
And here is SSB as Sonny Bono. He looked AWESOME. He looks like Italian Sonny Bono or a Mexican bandito. Either way, he rocked it. (Straightening his hair with the flat iron wasn't fun though.) I, on the other hand, don't make a very good Cher. Fat blonde chicks can't pull off skinny, black-haired Cher very well.

Dinner and a Movie

Last year around Halloween the older kids wanted to watch some Vampire movies so I made an event of it. We rented "Lost Boys" "Interview With A Vampire" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and I made this penne pasta dish with Italian sausage and LOTS of garlic. Real garlic that had to be roasted and pressed, not garlic powder. The whole house and its occupants smelled like garlic for a week.

This year we wanted to do something like it again but didn't have a movie picked out until yesterday when I threw it all together at the last minute.

The boys were gone this weekend so it was just the girls and us, Bugaboo's boyfriend (Cradle Robber), Dupree and SSB's mom. I picked The Shining because SSB was the only one of us who had seen it. (But he didn't even remember what RedRum meant so I figured it had been a while.) I was 11 when that movie came out and I wanted to see it SO badly but never did. I'm not sure why I wanted to see it because the only other scary movie I had ever attempted to watch was The Silent Scream and as soon as some girl got slashed to death on the beach my sister and I were OUTTA THERE. We went to the lobby and called our dad to pick us up. He told us about how he went to see Phantom of the Opera when he was little and had gotten scared too. But he was only 5 years old so it didn't make us feel better about being so chicken.

The fun part of last night was trying to find some foods to tie to it. This is what our menu ended up being:

Appetizers/Snacks:
Chips and Outlook Rotel
Chips and Hell On The Redrum salsa (Cradle Robber's sister's family makes this line of sauces called "Hell on the Red".)

Main Course:
Chicken with Crazy Jack Cheese (I couldn't come up with a very good name for that one. I had never made it before. I just found the recipe on the internet and went for it.)
Wendy I'm Homemade Fries

Beverages:
Red Rum (adults only)
Room 237-Up Punch
Heeere's Johnny Apple Cider

Dessert:
Mr. Hallorann's Chocolate Ice Cream

All in all it was a pretty good night. But scary movies are scarier when its quiet and there are no interruptions and the suspense can build. That didn't happen here with Bunny and PootiePie around. Maybe I can come up with something else and we can try again next weekend.

Sucks To Be Just Another Cog in the Wheel

So. I got a call from the elementary school principal yesterday. Not a note from the teacher. Not an email from the school. A CALL from the PRINCIPAL. This was Big Time.

Snickety and his friend got mad at a couple other boys at recess and called them a name. A BAD name. A name so bad that I gasped (ME!) and then tried not to giggle because she,THE PRINCIPAL, had said it. I will never be able to look at her the same ever again. Every time I see her now I will hear that word over and over in my head. Anyway. She said they will have to stay in at recess for two days next week and she was sending home a discipline referral form for me to sign and send back. I apologized to her and thanked her for calling. Then I waited for school to get out.

I picked the kids up and acted normal, but for the knowing glares I gave Snick. They went right over his head. I asked how everyone's day was. "Goooood" they all chimed. Really? I asked. Everyone, all of you, had good days? Nothing bad happened? Nope. Great days, in fact, because it was the first early release day ever. OK. We'll just see about that, mister.

We got home and I told Snick to put his backpack away and then come down and sit on the couch. SSB and I were in chairs facing the couch just like I'm sure an FBI interrogation room is set up.

SSB: So. What did you do today?

Snick: Well. First we had regular class, then we went to recess, then we had Switch Class, then we had lunch, then we came back and had AR time then we packed up to go.

SSB: Oh. What did you do at recess?

Snick: Well. First I got in line to play kickball because I thought we were going to play but no one else came. Then I walked around by myself. Then I saw some boys playing with a football and I thought they were playing Jackpot which is my favorite game so I went over there. But they were playing football so I asked if I could play.

(My heart is breaking a little right now but I gotta hang tough.)

SSB: And did they let you?

Snick: Yes.

SSB: And that's all?

Snick: Yeah.

Me: Time out! I don't think that's all. What else happened? Where else did you go?

Snick: No where.

Me: EH! (buzzer noise) Wrong! Let's move on to you going to the principals office.

Snick: Oh.

SSB: Why did you get sent to the principal's office?

Snick: Well. These guys on the other team made a touchdown and they were being really mean and bragging about it and then when they punted it they hit Daniel with the ball on purpose. He called them names and then I copied him and then they told on us and when we went back to the room the teacher took us to the office.

Me: What name did you call them?

(Ready for this??)

Snick: A cogsucker.

SSB and Me (trying really hard not a laugh): A WHAT??

Snick: Cogsucker. I don't know what it means but it is inappropriate.

SSB: Yes it is. But what you said isn't what they think you said. They think you said _______ sucker (Edited for family reasons. One of them being my dad he thinks I already have a potty mouth.)

Me: Do you know what that means?

Snick: No.

At this point SSB, all flustered and floundering, goes on what I call a "Sin and Syntax Rant" trying to explain American colloquialisms and slang and getting his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth in the process. At a convenient stammering point I jumped in.

Me: Penis! It's slang for penis. So when you said they were _________ (again edited so as I won't be disinherited) what does that mean you say they do??

Snick just stared at me with a mortified look on his face for what seemed an eternity. Then instead of answering he just said, "I get it." I like that answer. That boy will go far in this world, I do believe.

I'll spare you the blow by blow (tee hee) of the whole conversation but what it comes down to is that the other boy said it first. He had heard it on a movie, he said. Snick copied him in a misguided attempt to avenge his friend. The school doesn't know that he didn't actually say the REAL version but that's OK. He'll do his time for calling a name even if it wasn't what they thought it was and he didn't know what he was saying.

He knows what it is NOW though. And he will NEVER SAY IT AGAIN!!!

Bikini Kill

Love you like a sister always
Soul sister, Rebel girl
Come and be my best friend