For Make Me Laugh Monday, now hosted by Storm at All Things Cherished:
Some days, I feel I am climbing uphill everywhere I go, even on a flat street.
This was another memorable skit from those brilliant Brits, Monty Python! Are YOU climbing an ascent today?
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Posted in aging, brilliant ideas
Remember these? One more was laid after I took this picture.
Remember her? She’s a Swainson’s Thrush (I think).
As of yesterday, she has these.
We’re positively giddy here at the Let the dog in! household.
Stay tuned for feathers.
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Posted in animals, Bainbridge Island, WA, life is good
We were in the bathroom multitasking, me brushing my teeth, her on the potty. Yes, a regular Norman Rockwell scene (now THAT’S what we want hanging on our wall!).
I finish brushing, take a sip of water and spit.
“Mommy, have you ever peed in a cup?”
“Yes,” I said finishing my last gulp. “At the doctor’s office. Have YOU?”
“Yes.” Snicker, snicker.
I slowly set the bathroom cup back on the counter, considering whether you can rinse your own mouth out with BLEACH….
“What CUP?” I glared into my own reflection in the mirror.
“That cup.”
“THIS ONE?? The one I just set down?”
“No, that one over there.” She pointed to another cup on the rim of the bathtub.
Whew, that was a close one.
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Posted in health, kid, scratchings, words
transitive verb:
1. To dress up; to deck for show.
2. To dress or arrange oneself for show; to primp.Prink is probably an alteration of prank, from Middle English pranken, “to show off,” perhaps from Middle Dutch pronken, “to adorn oneself,” and from Middle Low German prunken (from prank, “display”).
I don’t have a lot to say about this word, except that a) it’s short and could be useful in Scrabble (if I EVER get to have game night again), and secondly, it sounds like a cuss word, on equal footing with something like “drat.”
Maybe a cross between “fink” and “prick”??
“That was my parking spot! You PRINK!”
But actually, it’s just what girls do. And maybe some boys, too.
My Kid heads toward the princess theme of dress-up (oh, so original!), but now that she’s almost in kindergarten, I see her dress-up interest fading as she matures into a “big girl.”
I’m a little sad. Maybe I need a tiara.
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Have you been to a Cabela’s?
Do you even know what Cabela’s is? I knew. I’d seen the catalogs. Heck, I’d even ordered from their slim selection of women’s clothes (pink camo IS coming back).
But none of that prepared me for their new store in Washington, south of Tacoma in Lacey.
Think REI, but with guns, hundreds of fishing poles, and actual fishing boats (in the store), all shiny with that sparkly paint Kid loves. Plus, a real fish tank and pretend small town scene shooting range (with guns down low for the kids!).
But what catches your eye upon entering is this:
They have an enormous display of stuffed wild animals, some with plaques of when and who “took” them.
And there’s not just the regional selection of beasts. No, they have creatures from all over the world.
Now you can see for yourself what a kudu looks like. Well, at least the head of one.
It’s not that I am against hunting completely, but as I stared at the 50+ animals on display, I started realizing all these animals looking so majestic, probably looked even more majestic when they were alive, running, jumping, swimming. I mean, they even had prairie dogs. Who’s hunting those? They’re like the little cousin of meerkats, for cripe’s sake. Is this Anthony Bourdain’s newest amuse buche?
Plus, hunting to me is not sport when your biggest hardship is staying awake so you don’t fall out of the tower you are sitting in. I want hunters HUNTING. Marching into the wilderness, hungry, sober, trudging uphill, looking, listening, and maybe worried that a larger mammal is going to take their prize before they get safely back home. And possibly “take” the hunters, too.
Yes, I want the hunters to be hunted at the same time they are hunting. Level the playing field a little.
And if you’re gonna get that prairie dog, you BETTER plan on eating it. With a nice merlot sauce.
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My fab nursing abilities apparently come with an expiration date…..
day 1: Oh, poor BAYYYYBY! Come to mommy! *hugs*
day 2: Still feeling bad? (hm, missing summer preschool morning session…oh well) Here, sit on my lap! Have a popsicle!
day 3: Hot forehead AGAIN?! Now, where’d I put that thermometer? Look, Daddy’s home from his trip! Yay! (Gotta go to the store, Hon! Be back….in AUGUST, sucka.)
day 4: PULLLEEEZE don’t be hot. Crap. (If meds make the fever go down, you could still go to today’s preschool summer session, right?) You’re hungry? The kitchen is STILL over there, Kid.
day 5: Kid, don’t you WANT to be healthy? No, you can’t sit on my lap. Stop touching me! Don’t breathe on me! No, I don’t want to play OLD MAID, AGAIN. It’s 9am: where’s that NIGHTTIME cold medicine….?
day 6: How you qualify for a medically-induced coma? You know, just to ride it out.
For her. Or me.
*********************
Remember those eggs in the nest?
That mama clearly has more patience:
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Posted in animals, Bainbridge Island, WA, health, kid, parenting
noun:
The state or quality of being lenient; mildness; gentleness of treatment; leniency.
Lenity comes from Latin lenitas, from lenis, “soft, mild.”
We have a lot of lenity (a word my spellcheck is denying!) going on around here. I know because Kid a) ate a popsicle IN BED the other night, and b) ate a popsicle IN BED the next night.
She is sick.
Do you BEND on rules and offer lenity when your child is sick? Just how far is too far in the niceness arena?
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