Day in the Life: November 2007 Archives
Phone call yesterday afternoon:
"Mommy? I think I swallowed my tooth."
"The one you wouldn't let me pull out yesterday because it was merely hanging by a thread?"
"Uh-huh. I went to wiggle it and it was gone. I felt it in my throat."
"Oh. Well, we'll just write the tooth fairy a note tonight, then. She'll probably still give you cash."
"What about my tooth?
"It'll go through your body like food."
"I'll poop out a tooth?"
"Yep."
"So I need to save my poop for the tooth fairy?"
"No, son. We'll write her a note. This sort of thing happens a lot."
"Okay, but you write the note and sign it like with notes to school."
So we wrote a note that said, "Sorry, accidentally swallowed tooth!" and put it under The Boy's pillow. This morning, there was a dollar and a scribbled reply that read, "No problem! T.F."
And there you have it. The Tooth Fairy takes signed excuse notes from moms. No poop-saving necessary, for which I am sure she is thankful.
"Mommy? I think I swallowed my tooth."
"The one you wouldn't let me pull out yesterday because it was merely hanging by a thread?"
"Uh-huh. I went to wiggle it and it was gone. I felt it in my throat."
"Oh. Well, we'll just write the tooth fairy a note tonight, then. She'll probably still give you cash."
"What about my tooth?
"It'll go through your body like food."
"I'll poop out a tooth?"
"Yep."
"So I need to save my poop for the tooth fairy?"
"No, son. We'll write her a note. This sort of thing happens a lot."
"Okay, but you write the note and sign it like with notes to school."
So we wrote a note that said, "Sorry, accidentally swallowed tooth!" and put it under The Boy's pillow. This morning, there was a dollar and a scribbled reply that read, "No problem! T.F."
And there you have it. The Tooth Fairy takes signed excuse notes from moms. No poop-saving necessary, for which I am sure she is thankful.
My sinuses have precluded me from being at all interesting this week. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
And also, thanks, Hublet, for sharing the germs with me that have led to my sinus trauma, a surfeit of phlegm, and my total inability to think or amuse! Yep, I'm blaming you for my shortcomings. Because it's easier than trying to, you know, overcome them.
I'd like to take this opportunity to ask those of you on our Christmas card list to please keep in mind that the photo adorning your card was selected by The Boy. Because he is VERY VERY PROUD of the fact that he recently lost a tooth. Which explains his expression in the photo. And also? The top of Hublet's head was totally there when I looked at the online proofs. And that the misshapen lumpy thing that appears to be the left side of my hairdo is actually my folks' Christmas tree. I know it doesn't seem like it at first glance, but please do me the favor of looking more closely. I don't have a tumor, and was having only a moderately bad hair day. Finally, no, I don't know why Hublet appears to be leaning to the right. It was an awkward pose, and I'm thinking he might have been about to fall over. But I do love the way that Hublet's smile totally mirrors The Boy's, even though Hublet hasn't recently lost a tooth. If nothing else, you may want to keep this photo as irrevocable proof that I was merely a mode of transport for The Boy during his gestation, as he looks NOTHING like me.
Or maybe you can file it under "Failed familial experiments - why having Christmas card photos made two mornings after a bloat-inducing Thanksgiving dinner while hopped up on decongestants and trying to get ahead of the travel rush" is perhaps not my best idea ever.
And also, thanks, Hublet, for sharing the germs with me that have led to my sinus trauma, a surfeit of phlegm, and my total inability to think or amuse! Yep, I'm blaming you for my shortcomings. Because it's easier than trying to, you know, overcome them.
I'd like to take this opportunity to ask those of you on our Christmas card list to please keep in mind that the photo adorning your card was selected by The Boy. Because he is VERY VERY PROUD of the fact that he recently lost a tooth. Which explains his expression in the photo. And also? The top of Hublet's head was totally there when I looked at the online proofs. And that the misshapen lumpy thing that appears to be the left side of my hairdo is actually my folks' Christmas tree. I know it doesn't seem like it at first glance, but please do me the favor of looking more closely. I don't have a tumor, and was having only a moderately bad hair day. Finally, no, I don't know why Hublet appears to be leaning to the right. It was an awkward pose, and I'm thinking he might have been about to fall over. But I do love the way that Hublet's smile totally mirrors The Boy's, even though Hublet hasn't recently lost a tooth. If nothing else, you may want to keep this photo as irrevocable proof that I was merely a mode of transport for The Boy during his gestation, as he looks NOTHING like me.
Or maybe you can file it under "Failed familial experiments - why having Christmas card photos made two mornings after a bloat-inducing Thanksgiving dinner while hopped up on decongestants and trying to get ahead of the travel rush" is perhaps not my best idea ever.
I've been meaning to update all you kind folks on the state of the postcard project - The Boy's memory is getting a little better now that he knows to look out for random postcards addressed to him and his classmates.
He was especially impressed with "Texas Tom," because he came home and announced, "Mommy! I got a postcard today but I don't think it's from our family! It's from Texas!"
Because everyone knows Texas is way too exotic to hold any of our familial clan, I suppose. So to all of you who sent a card, rest assured it was received - thanks again.
I'm just hoping this gets The Boy a better education in American geography than the one I had, because my 5th grade teacher was teaching a 5th/6th grade combination class, and she was a 6th grade teacher by trade, which meant that the 5th graders kind of did their own thing for much of the year. And as you may expect, our "own thing" did not include learning the whereabouts of any of the states not located on the East coast. So my knowledge of my own country's geography has been along the lines of "If I've been there, I know where it is, and if I haven't been there, Google is my friend." Pitiful, I know. So I bought one of those U.S. Map puzzles in the hopes that if I go on the show about being smarter than a 5th grader and I get a geography question I'll be able to answer it...
But I digress. The Boy's class still has a few states to go, if anyone out there is willing to send a postcard - and according to my Uncle, who is traveling the Gulf states just now, it can actually be a bit of a problem to just FIND a postcard if you don't live in a touristy town. So I appreciate the effort. Here are the states:
Alabama, Arizona, Colorado, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Dakota, Utah, West Virginia, Wyoming.
Email is bigarm at bigarmwoman dot com if you can help out.
He was especially impressed with "Texas Tom," because he came home and announced, "Mommy! I got a postcard today but I don't think it's from our family! It's from Texas!"
Because everyone knows Texas is way too exotic to hold any of our familial clan, I suppose. So to all of you who sent a card, rest assured it was received - thanks again.
I'm just hoping this gets The Boy a better education in American geography than the one I had, because my 5th grade teacher was teaching a 5th/6th grade combination class, and she was a 6th grade teacher by trade, which meant that the 5th graders kind of did their own thing for much of the year. And as you may expect, our "own thing" did not include learning the whereabouts of any of the states not located on the East coast. So my knowledge of my own country's geography has been along the lines of "If I've been there, I know where it is, and if I haven't been there, Google is my friend." Pitiful, I know. So I bought one of those U.S. Map puzzles in the hopes that if I go on the show about being smarter than a 5th grader and I get a geography question I'll be able to answer it...
But I digress. The Boy's class still has a few states to go, if anyone out there is willing to send a postcard - and according to my Uncle, who is traveling the Gulf states just now, it can actually be a bit of a problem to just FIND a postcard if you don't live in a touristy town. So I appreciate the effort. Here are the states:
Alabama, Arizona, Colorado, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Dakota, Utah, West Virginia, Wyoming.
Email is bigarm at bigarmwoman dot com if you can help out.
So Hublet and I were going to go see No Country for Old Men on Friday, but all the showings were sold out. Since this was our only opportunity to see a movie for the foreseeable future, we were determined to See A Movie, Dammit! This, coupled with my Medievalist roots, explains how we ended up seeing Beowulf.
I am torn. I know what Gaiman was probably going for with the screenplay, but he ended up with Danes and Geats as a bunch of frat boys with better tats and leathers, and he fell into the po-mo trap wherein a simple tale of heroism and human foibles leading to a great king's downfall and ultimate redemption isn't good enough - we need a naked water demoness! And a magic cup! And a mysterious open ending in order to drop the anvils of "temptation never dies" and "heavy is the crowny cranium" with a dash of "who are the real monsters" hoo-ha onto the heads of our unsuspecting audience!
That said, it was visually interesting, although CGI people are still creepy with their dead, dead, eyes and jumpy movements. Really. We just haven't got the hang of CGI people yet. Although the Angelina Jolie character was the least artificial looking one. Not sure if that means that the effects people were unduly obsessed, or if Ms. Jolie's facial characteristics are scarily artificially smooth in real life.
Bottom line - this movie will make it REALLY easy for teachers of Beowulf to tell who's actually done the reading and who cheated by watching the film.
I am torn. I know what Gaiman was probably going for with the screenplay, but he ended up with Danes and Geats as a bunch of frat boys with better tats and leathers, and he fell into the po-mo trap wherein a simple tale of heroism and human foibles leading to a great king's downfall and ultimate redemption isn't good enough - we need a naked water demoness! And a magic cup! And a mysterious open ending in order to drop the anvils of "temptation never dies" and "heavy is the crowny cranium" with a dash of "who are the real monsters" hoo-ha onto the heads of our unsuspecting audience!
That said, it was visually interesting, although CGI people are still creepy with their dead, dead, eyes and jumpy movements. Really. We just haven't got the hang of CGI people yet. Although the Angelina Jolie character was the least artificial looking one. Not sure if that means that the effects people were unduly obsessed, or if Ms. Jolie's facial characteristics are scarily artificially smooth in real life.
Bottom line - this movie will make it REALLY easy for teachers of Beowulf to tell who's actually done the reading and who cheated by watching the film.
I must admit I was sort of looking forward to drop-off this morning, and yes! I was amply rewarded! Hat lady was sporting a giant stuffed turkey on her noggin. It looked as though someone had misplaced a muppet.
I'm interested to see what comes forth post-Thanksgiving - a 3 foot felt tree with velcro ornaments? A giant menorah? Rudolph? A Yule log complete with faux-felt flame?
I'll be very disappointed if I just end up with a set of fake antlers.
And now your WTF moment for the day:
Former BYU Professor Tasered in Court During Suit Against Mormon Group
A few questions I had when I saw this are:
Also, I love the way that the media folks, in the interest of "getting to the truth," show the clip over and over, and even in slow motion, so that you, dear viewer, can "decide for yourself." There's nothing gratuitous to see here, folks! Move along!
I'm interested to see what comes forth post-Thanksgiving - a 3 foot felt tree with velcro ornaments? A giant menorah? Rudolph? A Yule log complete with faux-felt flame?
I'll be very disappointed if I just end up with a set of fake antlers.
And now your WTF moment for the day:
Former BYU Professor Tasered in Court During Suit Against Mormon Group
A few questions I had when I saw this are:
- Why was this man suing the Mormons, and why was he representing himself in court?
- What, exactly, is stress-induced disability, and how does it cause "mania?"
- How are 5 grown men incapable of taking down one stressed out prof with "disabling mania" without resorting to high voltage?
Also, I love the way that the media folks, in the interest of "getting to the truth," show the clip over and over, and even in slow motion, so that you, dear viewer, can "decide for yourself." There's nothing gratuitous to see here, folks! Move along!
For Wuthering Heights: "Heathcliff was an ass and they all died of colds."
Yep, that about sums it up.
I found this sentence:
Perhaps we shouldn't be too hard on Mills or McCartney. It can't be easy for her having one leg; it can't be easy for him being the first person held to ransom by an uniped since old-fashioned pirates were around in the seventeenth century.
Absolutely hilarious.
Actually, the entire rant is funny in that unhinged British way.
Perhaps we shouldn't be too hard on Mills or McCartney. It can't be easy for her having one leg; it can't be easy for him being the first person held to ransom by an uniped since old-fashioned pirates were around in the seventeenth century.
Absolutely hilarious.
Actually, the entire rant is funny in that unhinged British way.
Yay! So now the pressure is off and The Boy can ask Santa for a Wii with impunity - and I will need to make sure The Boy doesn't read my blog for the next several years...
Or perhaps sooner, if this conversation is any indication:
Boy: Mommy, guess what?
Me: What?
Boy: Aaron doesn't believe in Santa Claus!
Me: Really?
Boy: Yeah!
Me: What do you think of that?
Boy: I think he's crazy. I believe in Santa Claus.
Me: Did you tell him that?
Boy: (shaking head and waving hands around) Oh, no! Aaron's really big. I don't ever tell him anything!
Sigh. Better make the most of these next couple of Christmases, I guess.
Or perhaps sooner, if this conversation is any indication:
Boy: Mommy, guess what?
Me: What?
Boy: Aaron doesn't believe in Santa Claus!
Me: Really?
Boy: Yeah!
Me: What do you think of that?
Boy: I think he's crazy. I believe in Santa Claus.
Me: Did you tell him that?
Boy: (shaking head and waving hands around) Oh, no! Aaron's really big. I don't ever tell him anything!
Sigh. Better make the most of these next couple of Christmases, I guess.
Okay, you know what? I am fairly certain that someone, somewhere on planet earth does indeed KNOW Led Zeppelin better than you do, 100.7 The River. I am also pretty sure that the previous statement also applies to knowledge about the Rolling Stones, Cream, or Insert 70s Band Name Here.
So please do me a favor and stop with the self-important droning declarations of nostalgia coupled with faux documentary-type footage in your advertising. No one believes that you're serving an important public function by playing Immigrant Song every 3 hours.
Seriously. Knock it off.
Love,
BAW
So please do me a favor and stop with the self-important droning declarations of nostalgia coupled with faux documentary-type footage in your advertising. No one believes that you're serving an important public function by playing Immigrant Song every 3 hours.
Seriously. Knock it off.
Love,
BAW
Every day at 8:03 a.m. The Boy and I leave the house. We're aiming for 7:55, but no matter what I do, we always end up in the car at 8:03. No earlier, no later. It's kind of odd, actually.
Anyway, the reason that we aim for 7:55 is because leaving at 8:03 puts us smack dab in the middle of the 8:10 dropoff rush in front of the elementary school, and for reasons elucidated earlier, the dropoff rush is really something best avoided if I have any hope of making it to work in the general vicinity of on-time.
The 8:10 dropoff rush is always further complicated by the fact that it coincides with a ginormous blob o' traffic on the 2-lane road in front of the school. Usually, this means that the line of cars waiting to turn left onto the 2-lane road gets backed up into the dropoff lane, making everything even slower and more confused and - yeah. Late to work.
So today The Boy and I hop into the car at - you guessed it - 8:03, and I resign myself to 10 minutes of frustration and coffee sipping.
Except there was no traffic today. None on the 2-lane road. The dropoff lane was mostly deserted, although Traffic Lady was sporting a bright yellow cowboy hat cum straw fedora contraption, so school was obviously in session.
Most people, when confronted with a surprising lack of traffic, will respond with a hearty "woo-hoo!" and continue on their merry way. I am not most people, and my response to this unusual state of affairs was suspicion, followed by paranoia. Where was everyone? Did something happen? Like, say, a mass exposure to a deadly virus? Have the body snatchers started their nefarious work? Is it the beginning of The Stand - do I need to haul butt to Colorado and prepare for a nuclear showdown with the anti-Christ in Las Vegas?
Sigh. I probably need to lay off the Sci-Fi channel for a while.
Anyway, the reason that we aim for 7:55 is because leaving at 8:03 puts us smack dab in the middle of the 8:10 dropoff rush in front of the elementary school, and for reasons elucidated earlier, the dropoff rush is really something best avoided if I have any hope of making it to work in the general vicinity of on-time.
The 8:10 dropoff rush is always further complicated by the fact that it coincides with a ginormous blob o' traffic on the 2-lane road in front of the school. Usually, this means that the line of cars waiting to turn left onto the 2-lane road gets backed up into the dropoff lane, making everything even slower and more confused and - yeah. Late to work.
So today The Boy and I hop into the car at - you guessed it - 8:03, and I resign myself to 10 minutes of frustration and coffee sipping.
Except there was no traffic today. None on the 2-lane road. The dropoff lane was mostly deserted, although Traffic Lady was sporting a bright yellow cowboy hat cum straw fedora contraption, so school was obviously in session.
Most people, when confronted with a surprising lack of traffic, will respond with a hearty "woo-hoo!" and continue on their merry way. I am not most people, and my response to this unusual state of affairs was suspicion, followed by paranoia. Where was everyone? Did something happen? Like, say, a mass exposure to a deadly virus? Have the body snatchers started their nefarious work? Is it the beginning of The Stand - do I need to haul butt to Colorado and prepare for a nuclear showdown with the anti-Christ in Las Vegas?
Sigh. I probably need to lay off the Sci-Fi channel for a while.
The Fabulous Moola is no more. I remember watching her on GLOW, Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, way back in the 80s. Recently a friend of mine was involved in making a documentary in which she was featured. And I seem to remember a segment for the Daily Show several years back in which Moola discussed training female midget wrestlers in her S.C. home...I believe the phrase, "that's my damn midget" was bandied about, which is why it has stuck in my memory.
Not much going on here lately, and for that I am extremely grateful. Although, I can vouch that the Wii shortage is real, at least in this neck of the woods.
Hat Watch, Day Whatever - A giant ear of corn. She looked like an agrarian unicorn. I can't WAIT until Christmas season...
This will horrify Marc, but Hublet and I Netflixed the Schama-fest "Power of Art," and have been rolling on the floor laughing at the History Channel style re-enactments, ham-fisted soundtrack, overwrought Schama-prose--seriously, who else would call Rembrandt a "Mr. Clever-Clogs?"--and thin Marxist veneer.
However, I'm still enjoying the series - it's like a Behind the Music for great art. Plus, I find I am much more able to appreciate the skill and genius involved in these creations now. I'd recommend the series just for the really beautifully lit masterpieces - you can always mute the Schama!
Hat Watch, Day Whatever - A giant ear of corn. She looked like an agrarian unicorn. I can't WAIT until Christmas season...
This will horrify Marc, but Hublet and I Netflixed the Schama-fest "Power of Art," and have been rolling on the floor laughing at the History Channel style re-enactments, ham-fisted soundtrack, overwrought Schama-prose--seriously, who else would call Rembrandt a "Mr. Clever-Clogs?"--and thin Marxist veneer.
However, I'm still enjoying the series - it's like a Behind the Music for great art. Plus, I find I am much more able to appreciate the skill and genius involved in these creations now. I'd recommend the series just for the really beautifully lit masterpieces - you can always mute the Schama!
