Inside the cover of D2's journal she has defined the essence of the boy/girl relationship that causes mankind endless joy and woe:
Girls are clean and pritty
Smell Butiful
GOOD LOOKING
Boys are stinke
Inside the cover of D2's journal she has defined the essence of the boy/girl relationship that causes mankind endless joy and woe:
Girls are clean and pritty
Smell Butiful
GOOD LOOKING
Boys are stinke
With an uncanny ability to speak with skills that would not normally be expected of a 28-month old, D3 often elicits chuckles as we hear ourselves in someone who is only 30 inches tall.
The other night D3 and I sat at the kitchen bar eating dinner. As she crawled up, down and around the eating area, I cautioned her that she needed to remain seated and hold still. But she continued to fidget, oblivious to my advice.
Eventually her fork fell off her plate and tumbled to the floor. With an animated look of surprise, she crawled off the edge of the counter and back onto her bar stool. There she perched on all fours and peered down to the floor from the rattan seat.
I sat in silence watching her think. Soon she looked up at me, shook her head, and distinctly confessed,
"That's not good."
Our family does not have an impressive track record with pets. In fact, we have inadvertantly caused premature death to a quiet helpless lizard, an adorable fluffy Guniea Pig, and countless fish.
Personally, I am tired of the burden of so much death and carnage. Unfortunately, our lack of ability to keep the few creatures we have cared for, or at least attempted to care for, alive, has not slowed my childrens' intent to continue to beg for more pets.
Recently D1 has picked up the oral arguments with me on this subject. Apparently she wanted creatures that belong in lakes and rivers to live in her bedroom more desperately than I originally thought. In exasperation she finally stomped out of my bedroom. A little while later, she slipped this under my bedroom door:
Why I Should Have a Fish
by (D1)
- It is a great responsibility lesson for me...and my future.
- My friend has given me great advise about what fish are easy to take care of and how to take care of them, and she will supply supplies.
- I would love the fish like my brothers and sisters and care for them always.
- I know where I can get cheap but good fish and I'm willing to keep up with the fish.
- I will do my best to find fish that are low maintenance but fun.
If I do not get fish side affects may include, thoughts of suicide, chronic depression, nausea, insomnia, post dramatic stress syndrome, and series of violent mood swings. A serious but rare side affect may include schizophrenia resulting in multiple personalities and frequent conversations with imaginary objects, people, fish and places.
If any of these side affects occur, do not operate machinery or perform manual labor of any kind. If side affects do not lessen with in a few days consult your local Petco store for further advice.
Politically speaking I am more of a Republican than anything. However, I'm not as Republican as some since I actually do care about the environment. And I'm not a huge NRA activist. In fact, while I understand the right to bear arms was a fundamental liberty once-upon-a-time, I am not so fond of guns or their accouterments. I don't care to see, touch or hear them.
So you might be able to imagine my surprise when my father-in-law brought an old circa 1965 US military ammunition box to my home for Sunday dinner. But, as is typical for George, the surprises did not stop there.
"Hey, Deb," he called out as he was leaving for the evening, "Can you give that ammo box to Steve at work on Monday."
I like my brother-in-law (aka my co-worker) Steve and am happy to facilitate family errands, so naturally I replied, "Of course."
"Your employer shouldn't mind too much, right," he stated more than asked.
"I don't think Security is going to stop me over an ammo box," I said, suddenly doubting it myself, "It's not like there is really ammunition in there."
George looked at me in silence.
"There isn't ammunition in that box. Is there?" I asked.
"Well sure, some," he admitted, and then turned around and walked out my front door.
I am not experienced in dealing arms. So the next day I called my brother-in-law at work from a phone in an empty conference room. I asked him to meet me at my car, because I had a very important package for him.
Is that how you deal in contraband? Hope so.
I have made a conscious effort from their infancy to brainwash D1 and D2 into believing that they should allow me, the one person in the world that has nothing but their best interest at heart, to plan their weddings. I make no secret about the fact that this would be an attempt to re-create my wedding day, but with better choices. And when I say, "plan their wedding", I mean everything. As in everything. From choosing the wedding dress to the paper mint cups, of course it will all be tasteful and perfect. Their young age does not temper the seriousness of my intent in this scheme.
For the most part D1 has accepted this enormous generosity as fact and has not questioned my motives. When she has begun to inquire, I have quickly reminded her that on her wedding day she is the Princess Bride. Once she makes the most important decision of all, on who will be her future husband, she should not have her mind cluttered with more choices. At this point in the conversation, D1 usually smiles faintly and lets the matter drop.
As D2 has gotten older however, her independent mind is becoming more apparent. And as such, she has become more of a problem in my planning-the-girls'-weddings conspiracy.
One evening D2 had gone to the Home Depot with me and, as usual, ran to the paint section to grab - er steal - as many paint chips as she felt she could - without me forcing her to carefully file them all back. On the way home, she picked two colored squares and placed them side by side. Shoving them in my face, she showed me what she called her "wedding colors." I gasped at the juicy orange and electric teal samples.
"Oh, Sweetheart," I lightly chuckled, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation.
"You know that Mommy is going to pick your wedding colors."
D2 shook her head furiously and an argument ensued. D2 asserted her rights to plan her "own wedding" as I attempted to convince her this was something best left to her loving mother. I could tell I was losing the debate, but that failed to dissuade me from continuing the heated discussion.
Finally, D2 threw up her hands in frustration.
"It doesn't matter," she confessed, "since I'm never getting married anyway."
"What!" I shrieked.
"Of course you will!" I tried to assure her. And myself. I was not ready to let my visions of her gloriously planned wedding slip away so soon.
D2 was silent.
"Love, what would keep you from getting married?" I questioned hesitantly.
With fingers up by her head forming quotes in the air, she replied,
"Duh!"
And then with finger quotes curling, she continued slowly and distinctly,
"Global. Warming."
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