Thursday, 28 November 2013

Resurrection by Dryer Sheets and Manger Danger

How to Not Pass Medical School

"I know how to bring someone back from the dead," Reece informs me.
 
"Really?" I ask - and I am CONCERNED...will they be alive or will I be cleaning up after zombies, too?
 
"Well, just dead anyway," he clarifies. (And this is good to know. FRESH deadies only people! He may need a business manager.)

"Do tell."
 
"You rub two pieces of fabric together really fast until they're all covered in static electricity then you place them on two places on the persons chest," he says while  madly rubbing his hands together.
 
"Fabric?"
 
"Yes, maybe special fabric so it's staticky."
 
"Like fabric dryer sheets?"
 
"Maybe. I know it's fabric...or rocks. They get placed on the persons chest after they're covered in static electricity because the heart runs on electrons."
 
"...Good to know."
 
So if I have a heart attack, throw me in the dryer with some Bounce sheets - but FRESH SCENT...just in case.
 

Yeah, I'm SO not Going to Eat That

 
"What are those decorations called?" Kaelan asks me.
 
"Christmas balls?"
 
"Yeah, those. Hee hee, they looks like pudding."
 
Ummm, not seeing it...or eating it.
 

Don't be a 'Gator Hater

We started decorating for Christmas and my Mom put out her Nativity scene again. Mary, Joseph and those Wise Men were haters that loved camels and sheep but alligators were NOT INVITED...apparently.
 
Kaelan decided to correct this heinous transgression.
 
 

Bedtime Blues

 
"Hey Mommy, you know what I think?" my oldest son asks me.
 
"No, what?"
 
"Kaelans are not meant to sleep."
 
Nice try my child, nice try.


Monday, 18 November 2013

Between Siri and I, it's been a WTF kind of week...

Facial Hair for Everybody

 
"Mommy, I have a question," Kaelan announces.
 
THIS statement may be the beginning to great entertainment in my life...or the start of wine-o'clock (or sometimes both).
 
"What's that?" I ask.
 
"How come evergreens don't shave?"
 
"Ummm, because they like their whiskers?" I hazard a wild guess.
 
There's this pause and JUST when I think my bullshit has been called:
 
"Okay."
 
Whew!
 
"Yup, whiskers...all year long."
 

Siri you Bitch

 
I recently updated my cell to the iPhone 5s. I love having an iPhone - they're easy to use, but I must admit autocorrect has a serious hate on for me. Now with Siri talk-to-text I've arrived in an entirely new level of texting Hell.
 
I gave Siri a whirl and totally did NOT CHECK what it wrote. Call me trigger happy on the send button. Call me stupid. Call me regretful.
 
Because I am.
 

This ranks an entirely new NUMBER ONE on my list of things to NEVER EVER send your mother...ever.
 

What was That?

 
I am thinking I am deaf as a freaking post. Here is a short list of hearing fails recently:
 
1. Not surfing for prostitutes...apparently.

"OMG?! Did they just say go to www.ultimatehooker.com?" I ask.

"Ultimate poker," my son's Dad tells me.

"Oh, thank goodness. That would've been wrong."

2. Is that Proactiv in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

"Did you just say you have zits in your pocket?" I ask my Mom - totally baffled.

"No, I have a Kleenex in my pocket."

"Wow, that's way more sanitary."

"Get a hearing aid."

3. Student handouts that would send a message

"Your teacher gave you butts?" I ask Reece for some clarification (justifiably I should think).

"No! Inspiring Leadership bracelets," he corrects me.

"Well, that makes more sense."

I think I'll be making a hearing test appointment...soon.
 
 

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Mornings bring out my inner tyrant...be warned

Scariest Backseat Driver EVER

We went Halloween shopping for costumes. Driving home I almost fucking died as I'm going down the highway and see JUST this in my rearview mirror.
 
Happy Halloween motherfucker.

Get a Lawyer, Shorty

 
I thought being the Mom made me the law-of-the-land, but I was wrong. Why? Because I have a Mom, she is the boss of me and my kids know this. And I have one word for this: Shit.
 
I am doing errands with my boys after school when I ask the dreaded question.
 
"Does anyone have homework?"
 
"I do, I have reading," Reece tells me.
 
"I don't," Kaelan tells me.
 
This is not unusual. Kaelan often doesn't have homework but we have him work on learning ANYWAY...because we're awesome that way...and we know he can do ANYTHING...and he's catching up in a fantabulous way.
 
"Then you can do some math when we get home," I inform him as we pull up to the bank.
 
Inside the bank he tells me "I already did math at school."
 
"Well, you can do some more!" I announce in my uuber chipper voice.
 
"Awwww!"
 
We're headed back home and he's grumbling. "Why do I have to do math?"
 
"So you can learn fractions and things like that."
 
"You hate math," he points out (rather surprisingly).
 
Personally I think it sucks ass sideways through a straw when your kids throw things like LOGIC at you.
 
"We're not talking about me."
 
"...Is Grandma home?"
 
"Why? Do you want to appeal to a higher power?" I ask.
 
"I appeal...I'm asking Grandma."
 

It's ALL about Accessorizing

 
Reece was the Emperor of Evil for Halloween. He was totally excited about his costume. Very Grim Reaper-y.
 
"I think my favorite accessory is my scythe," he tells me.
 
"Really?"
 
"It really makes my outfit."
 

Home Security Advertising that can be Taken Two Ways

 
"If any monsters or zombies come I'll whack 'em in the head like an old man!" Reece tells me, swinging his scythe wildly on the way to bed.
 

Sometimes Nobody Listens...

and it's Still a Win

 
It's a school morning, so it's the usual poke and prod and nag-nag-nag to get everyone ready. This time of day really does bring out the tyrannical side of a parent's personality as we crush democracy and want to scream JUST DO IT ALREADY!
 
So we do...in our head.
 
ANYWAYS - now we're behind and I'm trying to get Kaelan's zipper done up on his coat. I'm having the damndest time trying to get it put together. Kaelan, on the other hand, is having a delightful time flapping my hair in my face as he chatters away.
 
"Could you stop flapping me, please? I can't see to get this done up," I ask (trying not to laugh - I might inhale my hair).
 
He stops, looking offended.
 
"I'm not flattening anyone," he informs me.
 
Well, other than not hearing me right, that's probably still a win - yes?
 
ZIP! "There! Have a great day at school. I love you and don't flatten anybody."
 
"Okay Mom!"