Tuesday, August 24, 2010

I Canz Open It Meselfs!


Note to self: if kitten is missing, check behind the refrigerator, then check inside the bread maker. If that fails, check inside the fridge, because the cat will likely be cold (and the defrosting chicken will be covered with grey fur). Last week, I found him napping on the counter, in the middle of a pan of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls. Let me tell you, deglazing a pet is no easy task.

This cat is either an evil genius who knows how to open doors by magic or the genetic by-product of two first cousins. The jury is still out.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Homesick


To offset the mental anguish caused by my last blog photo post of the sex-ay man and his sex-ay mandals, here is a cuddly bear for you to look at. Eyes all better? Friends again? Um-kay, good!

Ethan is at Camp Grandparent for a couple of days and the silence in the house is deafening. I do not know what to do with myself. When he is home, I think my role is less of a parent, and more of a nurse/grounds supervisor/touch of zoo keeper. Usually by this time of day, there has been at least one bleeding trauma requiring minor first-aid, a fragile object has broken, and I've had to say something along the lines of "we do not dustbust the cat." If that last sentence confuses you, you are obviously the parent of a girl.

Ethan has not been keen on the sleepover thing as of late. To ensure his nighttime safety, we painstakingly packed eighty-seven stuffed animals to take along, including an almost full-sized T-Rex, ingeniously named "Rexy." After the packing was complete, I had to reassure him that in his brief absence, the cat would get fed, the goldfish would not die (and if it does, I know where to get a spot-on body double ... shh!), and that I would not eat all of his Gummi Penguins. OK, so that is a flat-out lie, the first thing I did when he left was render extinct our pantry's entire Gummi Penguin population -- my apologies to PETA. Fortunately, much like the goldfish, this particular item can be easily restocked.

As expected, I got the "I'm sooo homesick! I miss you. Can you come get me?" call last night from Pennsylvania. I told Ethan I missed him too, but that he would be home tomorrow night, and that I loved him. I left out the part about how I had a lychee martini -- or three -- to finish, and therefore should not be driving anywhere.

His reply, "I love you MORE, Mommy."

Heart breaks in a million pieces.

Remind me of this moment when he is thirteen and accuses me of RUINING HIS LIFE!!! because I won't allow him to get a nose piercing with a chain that links to the piercing in his ear and then asks to be dropped off at the mall, half a mile from the entrance.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Horror Of Mandals


Ethan just asked, "I am wearing kiddals? Is that ok?"

"... Wha?"

He replied, "You know, the kid version of mandals. I know how you hate man sandals."

I explained kids' feet are cute and small and unhairy, therefore it is OK, but he needs to stop wearing them at age eighteen, or sooner, if he starts to look like the guy in the photo above.

** Edited To Add: I am sorry so many of you do not like the photo of my new boyfriend in his footwear. He wants you all to know that he is comfortable with his body, as well as his super-hot stache. That is all.