Before I get to all the women, let me just say ... that stupid bragging I did about how great it is to use compost in your garden has come back to bite me in the butt. Here begins the first anecdote.
In order to collect the compostable material in the kitchen, we first just used an old bowl. Then my friend Mamabird gave me a gift certificate to Gaiam which I used to buy a nifty little countertop compost bucket. I boasted about it to everyone … all about how it has a filter and a snapping lid (much better than that old bowl) and all of that. But so much for organic agriculture in your backyard: We have got fruit flies trying to eat the dish soap. Apparently you have to be humble AND concerned about the environment at the same time.
Fruit flies will attack by the way. You’d think that something smaller than a pinky fingernail clipping and equipped with wings would choose the “flight” vs. the “fight.” WRONG. If you attempt to clap-kill a fruit fly (which, by the way, you should always do about an inch above wherever they’re hovering), they will fly at your eyes. I never should’ve made my students read The Metamorphosis. They didn’t understand it anyway. Have you ever tried to explain the differences between conscious, unconscious, and subconscious to a group of 17 low-intermediate, non-native English speakers? Well, it can make you a little SELF-conscious (and crazy and sorry that you ever attempted to further their critical thinking skills).
Apologies, I’m not making smooth transitions, am I?
Well, speaking of students (how’s that?), now is the time of year when all teachers start having those nightmares where your mouth (or, alternately, eyes) doesn’t work and all the students are cheating and talking on cell phones and citing Wikipedia for research on “The Pros and Cons of Reincarnation.” Last night I woke up Husband by screaming, “TALKING! Stop it! TALKING is when your mouth is moving and sound is coming out!!!”
And now’s the time for me to integrate the words in the title into the actual body of this post.
Recently, we have moved on from “the high school song” (“Taking the Long Way” by the Dixie Chicks), “the woo-hoo song” (“Celebration” by Kool and the Gang) and “the get-down song” (“Get Down On It” also by K&tG). Now we are into “Joanna” (also by K&tG). It’s been on repeat in Suzie Q. Subaru since early this week. He calls it his song: “Play my song, Mama … Jo-ANNA … I LOVE YOUUUuuuuu!” And since it’s a lot better than “Booty Booty Ya Ya Ya” by Laurie Berkner, we’ll take it. I just bought a new Dolly Parton Greatest Hits album at the local used CD store, and when I suggest that we listen to “Islands in the Stream” or “Jolene,” he replies, “Too bad, Mama.”
Oh be careful little ears what you hear.
And speaking of the used CD store …
They also have used videos. Kids’ videos. Like “Jay Jay the Jet Plane,” “Bob the Builder,” “All About Road Construction,” and other popular titles. So he picked out the latter after a long 15-minute selection process with lots of deliberation between the two of us (The Dad was conveniently off listening to some potential additions to our music collection). I gave JEB a dollar and he went to pay for it. Then he needed nine cents for tax and I only had a nickel and two pennies. So, we had to interrupt The Dad, who had at that point stopped listening to Things We Would Never Buy (not even for a dollar), and had begun his search for a Michael Jackson greatest hits album.
Oh! The pride of a 2.9 year old holding a video on the topic of road construction.
So proud was he that he marched over to a life-size cut-out of Marilyn Monroe and said, “Hey. You wanna watch this video with me?”
I nearly wet my pants (which isn’t all that uncommon even when I’m not hysterical, but still).
In other news, I have found a coupla new discipline tools of late. First there is the phrase, “I’ll turn off the road construction video if …” and second there is The Online Behavior Problem Solver at babycenter.com. You just choose an age, then a problem area (e.g., “potty talk”), and BOOM! You get an entire article written by EXPERTS on whatever particular challenge you are facing. If it weren't for experts, I know a certain Goose who would probably be in state custody.
And FYI ... potty talk is totally normal and has nothing to do with the fact that, for a while, you, your husband, and a 14-year old laughed hysterically at the phrase "POO-POO" when said in various contexts at the dinner table and otherwise. Until the preschool teacher "Miss Mary" laid down the law. Then it became unfunny.
Except when said with a Parisian accent.
And that, folks, is all. Bravo to you for lasting this long.
See you next week, and click the picture above to see a couple more.
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