1. I feel a little discombobulated tonight, simply because I’ve lost some serious time, so I’m just throwing some thoughts out at you, in list format.
Because my nerdy little self loves the lists. And the charts. And the gel pens. And the paperclips.
My good friend, Missi, picked the boy up from school today and took him home with her kids for an hour, while I finished up work. The boy was thrilled to be going with her, because (1) he loves Missi’s three kids, (2) Missi always has homemade cookies on hand for snacks, and (3) he is convinced that she owns the only haunted house in Small Town, USA. I have no idea why he feels this way. Missi’s house is one of the largest, grandest, oldest homes in Small Town. Had it been built in the deep South, we probably would have referred to it simply as The Big House. The boy is not afraid of Missi’s house; he simply believes that Scooby and Shaggy would have had grand adventures there, chasing out the chain-dragging spirits, and he feels like such adventures await him, whenever he’s at Missi’s house.
Today was no exception, because Missi had three rather large cardboard boxes that she pitched into the backyard with the kids, and they wasted no time shaping the boxes with butter knives swiped from her kitchen. They made cuts here, they bent flaps over there, and they had a fantastic time.
You know how the old saying goes. “Sometimes the box is more fun than the toy that came in it.”
While the kids were completely entranced and entertained with cardboard, Missi and I sat in her kitchen and talked. Had you asked me how long we were there, I probably would have said, “I don’t know. Thirty minutes?”
Hubs eventually texted me to ask where I was at. He told me that he’d already mowed the yard, and that his belly was growling. I told him that I’d be right home.
When the boy and I piled into the Suburban, I realized that I had been in Missi’s kitchen, chatting away, for more than one hundred minutes. I was disoriented by the clock in my Suburban, and was convinced that our battery had gone haywire and fast-forwarded it.
So really? My evening has gone by in the blink of an eye.
Time flies when you’re in Missi’s kitchen.
So now I’ve been home, trying to usher the boy through the dinner (McDonald’s! Don’t judge us; by the time I realized what time it was, McDonald’s was what was fast!), through homework, through reading, and through a shower.
2. Since the 4th grade started, the boy has hopped into my bathroom every morning (because he can never seriously walk anywhere; he’s continually running and hopping and skipping) and asked me to help him blow dry his hair.
The boy who has never even cared if his hair was combed or not, has finally decided that (1) he wants it long, and (2) he wants it blown dry and styled every morning. Hubs and I have questioned him about this. Why the sudden change? To this, he has replied every morning since Monday, “Oh, I’m just tired of my shirt collars getting wet all the time from my longer hair after I shower.”
I believed him, and was relieved to learn that he hadn’t suddenly decided to fall in love.
Then tonight, at dinner, he threw a kink into things by announcing that he has a new girl who sits right beside him in his classroom. She has moved here from an exotic location, although he’s not sure where that might have been. North Dakota? Maybe. Iceland? Very possibly. At any rate, the boy told Hubs and I tonight, “And guess what? Her clothes are perfect. Like, she totally has clothes without wrinkles in them, and she never, ever gets a stain on anything. I’ve never seen such perfect clothes before, and I honestly don’t know how a person can go all day without slopping something on themselves! Mom, she never even drips her lunch on her clothes! And you know what else? Her hair is perfect all the time, too. It’s never messy.”
Hubs and I looked at each other in shock. Our boy is, perhaps, the world’s greatest slob. He seems to take pleasure in knowing that every drop of ketchup that he squirted on his hot dog at lunch is now on the front of his T-shirt. This boy of ours has never been inclined to notice the cleanliness (or lack of cleanliness) of someone’s wardrobe before.
Understandably, Hubs and I are a bit worried about this situation, because the boy seems powerfully impressed by this little girl’s daily appearance.
We asked him, “Do you play with her at recess?”
He responded by saying, “No! I don’t think she likes to roll around and get dirty, so she doesn’t play what we play.”
I pointed to the knees of the boy’s Levi’s. “Well, it looks like you rolled around in some grass at some point today. In fact, you’re wearing most of the lawn on your jeans!”
The boy examined his pants and said, “Yep. I think she was not impressed by my grass stains today, Mom.”
People, I will continue to keep you posted on new developments. Mama is not ready for girlfriends yet. However, if this new girl could teach the boy to eat a container of yogurt without slopping half of it in his lap, I would make some allowances. They would be very minor allowances, mind you.
3. Today was 9/02/10. When I read the news online today, my eyes were immediately drawn to an article stating the fact that the date was an absolute wonderment, as it was a toast to 90210.
You know, Beverly Hills’ zip code?!
I know that my eyes should have been drawn to more important newsy topics, like Hurricane Earl landing on North Carolina, but oh, how I loved the kids of West Beverly High! In college, my roommate and I used to slump on the sofa and the mushroom chair in the living room of our apartment every single week to keep tabs on Brandon Walsh and Kelly Taylor and Donna Martin. We were intrigued by the story lines, but mostly we were overwhelmed with the fabulous hair styles, and OH MY WORD! I even cut wispy bangs because Kelly Taylor had them!
Eventually, I graduated from college, but I never graduated from my passion for Beverly Hills, 90210. I was still recording it after Hubs and I got married, because I have TV ADD, and I cannot always commit to watching a program during the exact time frame that it’s aired. I have always preferred to record the show that I want to watch, and then watch it when I’m good and ready and know for smack-down certain that I won’t be interrupted.
Hubs always griped about 90210 in the beginning, and he swore that Donna Martin gave him hives, just by looking at her. I ignored Hubs, because I loved Donna, and I watched the old VHS recordings by myself.
Until a few months after we were married, when Hubs sat down and mocked an episode with me.
He made fun of the hairstyles. He made fun of the clothes. He even had the audacity to make fun of Dylan.
A few months after that, Hubs was so involved in the story line, he wouldn’t let me watch the show without him.
He’ll deny that, of course. He’ll swear that he watched it every week with me so that he could poke fun of it, but I know differently.
4. Our Frogs in Captivity, apparently, are supposed to eat crickets every three days or so. Give or take. Today marked the 5th consecutive day since their last supper, and I did feel badly about that, but I had completely spaced out getting the boy and I to the pet store to secure the live meals.
I think I just totally block the pet store from my mind, because OH MY WORD! The stench is enough to put me down!
So last night, as Hubs and I crawled into bed, Yoda Joe began whining in earnest. He whined like we’d never heard him whine before. He whined louder than a Labrador could ever hope to whine. People, that little exotic rain forest frog took his noise-making to the next level.
Apparently, that’s what he does when he feels the need to order pizzas from Domino’s.
There was no spot in our entire house to put Yoda Joe where we could not hear him. He wailed about his starvation to us until I contemplated slipping some Crocs on, grabbing a flashlight, and heading outside to search the weeds in the backyard for a live meal.
Anything to shut him up.
Instead, I walked into the bathroom, chewed a Tylenol PM, and managed to sleep right through his very vocal complaints to the cafeteria.
Hubs was under strict orders today to get to the pet store when they opened at ten. At 10:30, he texted my phone and said, “Fed frogs. Was like a shark feeding, only green.”
Yoda Joe, bless him, has been very quiet all evening. His belly is rounded, and he has done nothing but float serenely in his tank.
5. Hubs brought home an iPad today, which is significant because Hubs is not a lover of the Apples. Hubs’ brain is wired to understand the intricate workings of every computer, and he has pre-judged the Apples and found them lacking. However, he and his buddy, Ryan, signed a contract last week to maintain a company’s computers in Small Town, and this company has nothing but a bushel of Apples.
Hubs and Ryan have decided to step on board the Apple wagon to some extent, and Hubs has done nothing but grumble about it all night. He and Ryan bought iPads for their business today, and the boy has already swiped it and is sending signals to the space station with it by now.
This is a major step for Hubs…this whole business of having an Apple product in the house. He told me tonight, “I wish there was an app to turn the Apple into a PC.”
6. I’m off. I’ve got to yank the boy away from the iPad and shove his freshly-showered body into bed.
Here’s hoping that Yoda Joe and Gru continue to float, contentedly, in their tanks all night, and that neither one of them decides that there’s anything to talk about after the lights are shut off.