Thursday, 22 August 2013

Another "brilliant" patent idea...maybe

When Hooked on Phonics Goes Wrong

 
It's that time of year again, the back to school shop-a-thon. It's exhausting and requires refueling so we decided on a time-out in the mall food court.
 
On the table is a stand-up brochure for diamond jewelry that draws Reece's attention like a moth to a flame. My little man does love his shiny things. He's examining the advertisement with a scowl of concentration.
 
"I cannot believe they put carrots in these!" he sputters, waving the ad in the air.
 
"Oh yes, carrots are great for everything. The more the merrier," I tell him.
 
Carrots - carats...true with both, anyway.
 
 

Yell-a-Vision...for Squid Attacks
and other Important Televised Events

 
I watched an amazing show the other day on squids. I don't usually watch documentaries (call me uneducated - but do it in a fancy way so I don't get it, okay?) but this one was awesome. All it needed was one thing, YELL-A-VISION (someone get me a patent).
 
Forget the smell-a-vision people, yell-a-vision is where it's at. I'm one of those people who needs to scream at the TV when people are being morons. It would be SO much more satisfying if it was interactive. Fucking brilliant, right?
 
On the squid show there was this man explaining how they were filming these squids at night, how five divers went down and only four came up. Then they had to search for the lost man for a long time - eventually he popped up all bloody and covered in squid hickeys.
 
Hickey man explained his experience. How he was watching the squids and it grabbed his flipper and he just WATCHED, thinking fascinating. And I'm yelling "Swim away!"
 
Then it grabs his arm and he does...NOTHING. And I'm screaming "What's wrong with you, you hippy - smack that squid!"
 
Then the squids drag him down 150 feet! AFTER they rip off his gold necklace he decides to fight back!
 
And I'm totally yelling "About time! What are you waiting for? The squid to steal your lunch money? You had to wait for it to take your PRETTY?!"
 
See what I mean? Yell-A-Vision could give some satisfaction in this situation...

Attack of the Man Eating Hamster

 
I took my boys on a Mercy-Slurpie-Delivery to their sister's today. Her son had been recovering from a fever (and since a Slurpie can fix anything we made it a double).
 
While we were there Holly introduced us to Wilbur, their new hamster.
 
"I only like cats and dogs," Kaelan informed her when offered a chance to hold Wilbur.
 
Reece, however, was thrilled! He couldn't wait to hold Wilbur.
 
"Does he bite?" he asked.
 
"No, he's never bitten anyone," Holly answered.
 
Reece is holding him very gently when suddenly he yelps "Ow! He bit me!"
 
Holly saved her brother from the killer hamster. We get Reece cleaned up and he asks more questions about Wilbur.
 
"Has he had his shots? Why did he bite me?"
 
"Maybe you smelled like food," Holly guessed.
 
"Well, what does he eat?"
 
"Little boys," I tell him.
 
"Banana, sunflower seeds, nuts," his sister informed him.
 
"Maybe you smelled like Cheerios," I guess.
 
"I bet that's it. I'll bring him some next time," Reece tells me.
 

Mommies, Mommies Everywhere

 
"Mommy?" Kaelan calls out to me as I'm sitting just out of his line of sight on the couch.
 
"Yes?"
 
"Whoa!" he yelps, startled. "You're everywhere!"
 
That's right...you just remember that when you become a teenager.
 

The Circumference of a Circle doesn't Involve Eye Liner...Who Knew?

 
"I've been playing with my cosmetology set," Reece informs me.
 
This is a bit of a surprise as I don't remember buying my 9 year-old son a make-up kit... I am, however, low on eye-liner.
 
"Pardon me?" I manage to respond when I can finally open my mouth without giggling.
 
"See? My set that Dad gave me with all the rulers," he explains as he points to the table.
 
"Oh! Your GEOMETRY set!"
 
Whew! Although that means I'm still low on eye-liner.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Look what the cat dragged in...we're not BBQing that

Throw Another Bird on the Barbie
on second thought...

 
It was a nice relaxing weekend until my son's let loose this shriek of horror/excitement  (that's the same thing from little boys, isn't it?) from their Dad's backyard. It turned out the cats left a "present" by the backdoor. Little did the kitties know that dead birds were NOT on their wish list.
 
"It's a dead bird!" Reece yells, his big blue eyes looking ready to fall right out.
 
"What did you do with it?" we ask.
 
"I put it on the barbecue," he tells us.
 
We go look and sure enough, it's on the barbecue...not like ON THE GRILL (mmmm, pass me a nugget - we're weird, but not THAT weird), but on the sideboard. But still, gross.
 
"Can we bury it?" he asks.
 
"I think we'll give him a Viking send off," his Dad tells him.
 
"What's that?"
 
"Put him in the fire pit," he explains.
 
THEN we did not have a fire right away (because it was early in the day) and I TOTALLY FORGOT.
 
Much later (after we had supper and I had CHICKEN) Reece comes up to me and asks "So, did Dad 'Burn the Bird'?"

And I actually thought he was talking about SUPPER.
 
Being a smartass, I respond "Around here we call it 'Squeezing the Cheeze' dude." 
 
Their Dad hears me and lets out this snort of laughter.
 
"Okay. Did Dad 'Squeeze the Cheeze'?" he asks seriously.
 
"I have no idea," I tell him (thinking to myself, shouldn't he know? Wouldn't it smell?).
 
"Well, did you guys have a fire in the backyard yet?" he asks.

Then I get it. Shit!
 
Oh my God...I just taught my kid that a funeral for a bird was called a fart. I am so going to Hell.

 

I'll Encourage You...
but keep the licking to a minimum

 
"Mommy, if I was a cat I would just lick myself," Kaelan informs me.
 
I'm not even going to pretend to be pro-good-luck-with-that here.
 
"Ewwww!"
 
"Heh, heh, yah. Then I'd poop in my litter," he tells me.

 

WTF Marketing Gurus?

 
My youngest son looses his boxers like there is some mysterious undies gnome snatching them from the house. Fucking gnomes, I knew those little buggers were evil.
 
It's hard to keep up with the loss of undies - where do they go? We're constantly on the Boxer Replacement Program.
 
The BRP must be pretty fucking popular because Boys Large boxer briefs are in short bloody supply in the stores. It's a gnome-o-demic. Maybe there's a garden spray for this.
 
I go shopping and raid all the frigging stores looking for the rare underpants when I finally find TWO DAMN PACKAGES - not that I'm getting bitter by this point (bitter, no - pissy, yes).
 
I check out the undies and they have the typical picture stuff that little boy undies have. But then I notice something on one of them... What the fuck?
 
 
I get encouraging READING for children, but who writes SCORE on boys undies? They're not even SPORT undies (no soccer balls...just a CROSSWORD). Seriously!
 
Bad news... I bought them. We're low on undies! Fucking gnomes.
 

If you Don't Want to Know - Don't Ask

 
My oldest son loves vans. Love isn't even a big enough word...obsess maybe? Somebody make me up a new word even bigger than that. I hear HUGE diatribes on how he needs one, how I should have one (someone poke my eyes out first because I ALREADY RODE THAT - YUCK). They are THE most fan-ta-bulous vehicles in the universe.
 
After I was just grilled on the reasoning behind square doors and why each door has locks on vans, Kaelan yells:
 
"Do I look crazy to you?"
 
"...Sometimes."
 

Now you're NEVER Getting my Keys

 
"If I had your keys I'd just say you've done enough trouble, Mom," Kaelan informs me.
 
Thanks...thanks a lot.