NEW RELEASES
In Our Humble Opinion . . . you can’t eat toast that’s been buttered too late after it came out of the toaster.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . in a fair world, children would go to school year round and parents would get the summer vacation.
Sarcasm did not get me a discount…
So I’m getting the kids registered for summer day camp. The package of documents to complete is like three inches thick. I don’t know how to answer for some of these questions.
Take this one for instance: At what meal is your child hungriest? Hungriest for what? For a well-balanced meal? Depending on the meal and the child, pretty much never.
The inanity continued. Here is how I completed the rest of the questionnaire.
What foods does your child dislike: Please see attached list.
Does your child nap during the day?: Hahahahahahahahahahaha **deep breath** Hahahahahahahahahaa. Don’t you wish. However, if it is required, I’d be happy to come by around 2:00 and take his nap for him.
Would you say your child is: ____ easily managed ____ normally managed ____ difficult to manage. Compared to what? Death row inmates? Students of Miss Manners Academy. Does the counselor have tender sensibilities? If the Bandit calls her stupid will that upset her terribly? Where does Sassy’s death glare fit in? You should understand that my children are infinitely nicer to strangers than they are to their own mother. Is it alright if I check all three boxes?
What concerns do you have about your child’s present behavior? Please see Appendix A.
In what ways would you like to see your child develop during the next year in our program? Is there anything you can do about making them act civil? Also, chores. Make them want to do chores.
Does your child play with imaginary friends? No – all his friends are very present, very loud and very real.
What are you child’s favorite outdoor activities? Running around, screaming and yelling like a wild indian; leaving items from the kitchen in the dirt in the back yard; stuffing weird things in the mailbox.
What are your child’s favorite indoor activities?: Touching all their mother’s stuff; making enormous messes; Being excessively loud.
What pets does your child have?: 1 idiot dog, 1 black licking machine, 1 crabby tom cat, 1 mini-tiger with a biting fetish
How much TV does your child watch each day?: Don’t judge me!
I turned in the completed paperwork, such as it was. They made me give them $428.00. You’d think for that they would keep the children, but no. They still expect their father and I to pick them up each day AND TAKE THEM HOME WITH US.
I know, right? I asked them just exactly how much it would take for them to keep the kids but we couldn’t come to an agreement.
What stupid questionnaires have you filled out? Better yet, how have you answered them? Why do people ask such stupid stuff?
May 11
This may be the last Five Favorite Things because surely we’ll all be dead by next Friday, drowned in our own prolific snot output. Perhaps this is how the zombie apocalypse will finally come. Maybe you should divert some of that retirement money we urged you to spend on Kleenex on machetes and shotguns instead. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. Crazier things have happened. We’ll try to distract you from impending doom with these five amusing things.
- Autopilot cars. Google, that bastion of knowledge and information, has transformed Prii (that’s the plural of Prius. Really. Google it. See – Google knows everything) into robot cars. They’ve been test piloting them around public streets and now they’re taking them to Vegas to
show how effective they are against driving where there are a lot of distractions. Of course, there are those over-thinkers who are worried that self-driving cars are a sign of Big Brother’s influence, but we say pish. Those people clearly have not thought of the fabulous possibilities. Amylynn could sleep for ten more minutes in the car each morning. Ava’s family could stop worrying that she’s a menace to society when she’s driving her own car and Kelli could
Those short dinosaurs are in for nothing but trouble down there.
Facebook to her heart’s content. Genius. We want one.
- Stinky dinosaurs. A study was published this week in Current Biology that postulates that the dinosaurs kept Earth 18 degrees hotter than it is now. Wanna know how? By farting. Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently the sauropods were especially gassy with all the plants they ate. We’ve often considered that Earth would have been really lovely back then with all the wild, unbroken wilderness. Now we’re reconsidering. Quite frankly, instead of paradise the whole place sounds like it smelled like a frat house. **shudder**
Not another irritating person in sight
- Town of the Future. They’re building it and we will come. We don’t know who “they” are but we need to make friends right quick. This town they’re building will be a 1 billion dollar scientific ghost town out in New Mexico somewhere. They plan to use it for research on everything from intelligent traffic systems (there isn’t one) to self-flushing toilets (??). Here’s the big selling point for the Sisters: no one will live there. It’s a giant, perfect fifteen square mile town void of morons. Perfect for the blogger who hates everyone else. Doesn’t it sound like heaven? No one to pester you and
you don’t even have to flush your own toilet. Bliss. - Haboobs. Our town had a haboob this weekend. That means we had a massive dust storm. It doesn’t mean anything about having boobs, which we do, two each as prescribed by current social convention. There isn’t anything especially funny about dust storms but we defy you not to giggle while watching the local newscasters say “haboob” over and over again, all agitated and self-important like only local newscasters can be. Habooooooob. We don’t care what most of the
world thinks, those Middle Easterners must have a sense of humor to come up with that word. Haboooooob. **giggle** - Western Conference Finals. Amylynn has been trying to figure out a way to mention hockey on this blog for weeks and now’s her chance. The Coyotes have moved to the Western Conference finals for the Stanley Cup and it’s a really big deal because never in the entire history of the organization have they made it this far. Also, even better, the NHL thinks they finally have a buyer that will take over the team who will leave them in Phoenix, shushing all the horrific rumors of the team leaving. Amylynn is beside herself with glee over the whole thing. Her family just wants it to be over. Ava smiles at her like you would a slightly crazy person who might hurt you with their enthusiasm. Kelli ignores her altogether. Amylynn doesn’t care. But we suggest you save yourself and not ask her opinion on save percentages and brilliant goal tending or you’ll hear an endless ode to goalie Mike Smith. And for heaven’s sake don’t mention Shane Doan or she gets all swoony and, really, that’s sorta icky. Go Yotes!
Just So You Know . . . even though the Quill Sisters think you’re sane doesn’t mean you won’t want to check with a professional.
How Come . . . we get yelled at for being noisy but when we’re quiet everyone wants to know what’s wrong? We can’t make anyone happy!
Don’t accidently use the Kleenex with the lotion to clean your glasses. That’s a huge mistake
I’m sure I know the answer to this question, but I’m gonna put it out there anyway.
I’ve mentioned before how seasonal allergies are really doing a number on me this year. I have no idea why this year is so much more than others, but I’m seriously considering dumping all my 401K stock in Kleenex.
Ava is sneezing like a maniac and Kelli sounds equally nasally and congested. It’s miserable.
So the question of the ages is this: Is your snot supposed to be neon green?
Yeah, I thought not.
Ava suggested that it was proof of my super powers but I’m not sure exactly how nuclear waste-like mucus is associated with my ability to fall asleep anywhere or to find the sarcastic angle in any conversation.
I know this blog will induce my mother to give me a long, protracted lecture about taking all my antibiotics. HA! The joke’s on her because I’m not on any antibiotics, and I don’t have any plans to get on them anytime soon.
My Honey finds this latest disclosure highly irritating and it earned me a magnificent eye roll. I don’t know why? He knows damn good and well that I don’t go to the doctor until I have pneumonia. This is my tried and true medical plan. I figure you should wait until you have a bunch of symptoms instead of just one or two. That way you can maximize your co-pay dollars. I’m all about saving money – just ask My Honey.
Are you one of those people who makes an appointment at the first sign of a sniffle? Or are you one of us who waits for Typhoid to set in before you trudge to the primary care doctor? Do you finish all your prescriptions or just take the first four until you feel better like me?
How come . . . our husbands can hear us take a credit card out of our wallets 6 states over at an outlet store to buy shoes but they can’t hear us ask them to take the garbage out in the same kitchen?
Just So You Know . . . we weren’t really planning on accomplishing much today, just maybe a trip to the bookstore and coffee shop – I mean it is Thursday and we are at work.
What Do You Mean the Sun Doesn’t Revolve Around Me?
The girl who lives at my house came home with an extra credit science project last week. And trust me; she needs that extra credit like nobody’s business. Believe it or not – it was to build a solar system. How freakin’ unoriginal is that??? Why didn’t the teacher just give the option of a solar system or a volcano??? It could have been something fun – like breaking the sound barrier with fruit or using a homemade rocket to launch a magic eight ball into orbit – but NO.
Me: No matter what, we are not hanging the planets from a wire coat hanger.
Girl: Why not?
Me: Joan Crawford would not approve.
Girl: (Clearly annoyed) Can you just not be you for a second?
Me: (Clearly ignoring that comment) We’ll make it from produce. The sun can be a pumpkin.
Sun Pumpkin
Girl: You don’t even know how to buy produce. Daddy goes to the grocery store. There’s no cake in the fresh food aisle, I doubt you could even locate it.
So, we go off to the store, not the grocery store mind you, but to a hobby emporium. We couldn’t find anything that we could use that would be easy to make round and in the right sizes, except for Styrofoam balls. Now I know that was your first thought when I started this post but I’m here to tell you you can’t use Styrofoam balls. You want to know why? Because 10 of them cost $52.89. And you need special paint that doesn’t melt Styrofoam. That special paint cost $3.99 a can. We needed plan B.
$52.89 PLUS Paint
Girl: We could make the planets out of rubber band balls.
Me: Yea, that won’t take forever.
Girl: You have to admit it would work. They make rubber bands in all colors now and we could make them in any size we need.
Me: That would be a great idea if you had mentioned it when you were born and I could have made one per year until you were 11 bringing us to today and your need to build a solar system. I’ve tried to teach you about planning ahead . . .
Girl: You’re insane.
Me: Why don’t we give your teacher the $52.89, I’ll bet that would get you all of the extra credit points.
As it turns out, I was replaced on the project by Ed. He broke the news to me gently, saying something about artistic differences and such. I hope the girl who lives at my house knows she’s never getting $52.89 out of her father for Styrofoam.