Thursday, October 1, 2009

When Worlds Collide












This past weekend, the fam went to a neighboring county's fair. It was quaint, precious, packed with people, live music and full o' carnies. Having never really been to any carnival to speak of, I never noticed this niche community. I'd heard the jokes and seen caricatures on TV. Wow. Up front, let me just admit my bias....I think the carnie reputation is well deserved.

First and Second Daughters and I got on the "vomitron" or whatever the brain scrambling ride was called. I was loving the idea of having the family participate in something as American as a county fair. Loving it, until Cletus-the-slack-jawed-yokel approached to secure us into the ride. Every horror story involving carnies came to mind as soon as I saw him lumber toward us with the grace of yak. I cringed at his unkempt grooming, visible body odor, dull look in the eyes, etc., and then I was shocked and horrified to notice that his fly was down. O gawd! Now I had a decision to make. Was he the stereotypical carnie-perv, or was he "special?" Either choice did not bode well. If he was a perv, I had my two beautiful, innocent daughters sitting here, waiting for him to "belt 'em in." On the other hand, if he was "special," what the hell was he doing running a ride that potentially launch us into orbit???? I settled on the perv option. At least I could karate-cize him if necessary. I preemptively lowered the security bar over us, only making an inspection by him necessary. The whole time, as I'm almost losing consciousness over his profuse b.o, I'm praying my two naive daughters do not notice that his fly is down, and God-forbid, anything else! I still shudder at the memory. Well, we survived, and thankfully, Daughters didn't notice anything "out of place."

Monday, February 16, 2009

Quick Update


Hello Friends. It's been busy, busy, busy here. Sorry for the dry spell, but it may be awhile till I get consistent again with my posts. School is busy, the kids are always busy, and the household keeps moving and grooving! Don't think I've forgotten you...I haven't, but for now, I'm on hiatus.

And as a parting gift, I'd just like to encourage you with this lovely picture of our fearless leader. He's been called the messiah, the One; and you know you don't have to pay your mortgages any more, right? Well, I think he thinks you should just call him Mr. Cool. The way his first month has gone, I'm tempted to light up a doobie!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Hysterically Humbling

Since New Year's, the darlings have been sick in one way or another. It's a major downer. I hate the way the house feels when people are sick...it's just icky. Fourth Darling is the latest virus victim. Saturday night, it was my "turn" to stay up with her. So, all that night, we'd sleep for about forty-five minutes at a time, between crying and bouts of coughing. (FYI - it was Fourth Darling crying..not me). I gave up the dream of actually sleeping in our bed, so we ended up on the couch. The next morning, the other darlings creeped in, one by one. This is when I thank God that in our zeal to "organize" our house we didn't give up cable.

God was good. There was a Phineas & Ferb marathon on the Disney channel. (By the way, if you ever get to watch an episode of Phineas & Ferb, it's great!). I was able to put that on and then half consciously doze. I would get up every so often and drag myself to the kitchen to fill orders for juice, cereal and trail mix. My children are so brilliantly perceptive that they could sense the exact moment that my body would relax and I would find that semi-conscious nirvana, and that's when they would ask for something. It was in one of these moments, where I was actually left alone that I found myself levitated off the couch with the blood curdling scream of Little Man. I was awake, watching his lips move before my hearing kicked in. When it did, between the sobs, I heard him say "There's a peanut in my nose!" What? Surely I'm still in a stupor. Anyway, my kids are not "the kind" that stick things up their noses.

Oh contraire mon frere. To my horror and humiliation, Little Man is exactly the kind of kid who sticks peanuts up his nose. After unsuccessfully coaching him to blow it out his nose, we moved to the bathroom. I pulled out my handy-dandy instruments of torture tweezers and tried to grab the little sucker. No success. I had to then wake Darling Man who was recovering from his night-before-last duty with the sick Fourth Darling. At this time, all the sister Darlings are almost in tears thinking that Little Man's going to suck the peanut into his brain, and I'm calculating the costs of a visit to the emergency room. Just then, Darling Man seriously tells me, "Hold his head." Oh crap. What's he going to do? From somewhere, he produces a dentist's tool. You know, the one they use to clean your teeth. Doesn't everyone have one of these? I've got a death grip on the boy's head, and somehow, Darling Man produces a snotty peanut. Not as horrifyingly gross as one would think - comparatively with the other things that come out of kids' bodies. THANK GOD!

With the danger gone, it was hard not to just bust out laughing. I didn't want to make Little Man feel bad, so I held it in. Later, when I was sure I could keep a straight face, I asked Little Man why he put a peanut in his nose. Looking at me as if I had no insight at all, he told me, "Well, I wanted to see what it was like to be an elephant." Good enough. At least he had a somewhat logical reason. This proves he's not the typical little troglodyte who sticks things up his nose. ;)

So now, he has the confirmation that he is not an elephant, and I'll never buy trail mix again!