Hell Hath No Fury Like A Toddler Scorned

It's a gorgeous, Carolina blue-sky day and I'm finally getting around to spring cleaning because, you know, it's October. I was cleaning windows on the front porch while The Boy and The Princess were riding bikes. She kept getting mad because he kept winning the race up the driveway. (It's only a race if he's in front already or it has been predetermined that he shall be the victor. Every time they get to the end of the driveway, he turns quick and starts heading back toward the house screaming, "I win! I win!" This reduces The Princess to a screaming puddle of girl standing in the middle of the driveway beside the crumpled bike that she has slammed to the ground.)

She ran up the steps, stepped inside the front door and yelled, "Mom...and you help me wock dis door!"
"Why Princess?
"'Cause I want wock Brother out!"
"Princess, you can't lock your brother out."
"FINE! Den I go up my woom!"
"Baby, that's not a nice thing to do."
"FINE! Den I hate you!" Stomp, stomp, ...stomp, stomp, ...stomp, stomp. (Stomping up the stairs is a painfully long process when you're three and you have to land both feet on every step before you go up to the next one. By the time she gets about half way up, you're over the shock of the stubborn, screaming toddler and you have to turn away to not laugh at her.)
"Baby Girl! That is a terrible thing to say!"
Stomp, stomp...stomp, stomp...SLAM!
O......M......G.
Yeah, she's cute now. But one day this is going to be the one that shows up with the long-haired boyfriend and takes the hubby and I out with a .38 for insurance money. Remember that I said this.

I'm Gonna Miss Stupid...

"Stupid is as stupid does." - Forrest Gump

stu-pid adj. 1. In a stupor; stupefied. 2. Slow to apprehend; dull; obtuse. 3. Showing a lack of sense or intelligence. 4. Uninteresting; trite or dull. -n Informal. A stupid person. - The American Heritage Dictionary

When exactly did "stupid" become the latest in a long list of words we can no longer use? Certainly, some words should have gone away long before they did...the "n-word", "colored", "retarded"(oh, I miss "retarded"), "faggot", etc....but "stupid"? What was the cataclysmic event that happened to cause all the hatred toward "stupid"? These other words indeed are derogatory toward certain groups of people that refer to something that they can't change about themselves...color, sexual orientation, mental handicaps....but, really..."stupid'? Honey...that's a whole other group of people altogether!

If nothing happens because of stupidity then we have to find a "real reason" behind doing stupid things. Everything has to have a meaning, an excuse, a cause and effect... I hate to break it to you....but sometimes "stupid" IS the reason.

"Johnny broke his arm because he tried to skateboard off the roof into the swimming pool."
"Why in the world would he do a thing like that?"
"Because....he's stu-....wait....because he was acting out against tyranny and oppression, the stress of eighth grade math, the-the-the destruction of the rain forests, arctic ice caps are melting, um...Daddy doesn't hug him enough, uh.....uh....and did you know that jellyfish are taking over the oceans?!!!"

Exhausting. Geez, wouldn't it be easier to just go straight to "stupid"?

And in case you haven't seen this, nothing gets a Mom up in arms like one kid calling another "stupid". Recently I witnessed the following:

"Dude...that was so stupid!"
"Johnny...you know we don't use THAT word in OUR house!"
"But, Mom...."
"Absolutely NOT, Johnny........"

Okay, now wait a minute. Wasn't that same little brat just screaming at his mom to buy him a "new frickin' Nintendo" five minutes ago? "Frickin'"....and "stupid" was the thing that put her over the edge.

Isn't it so funny that we get all caught up in the new Mom rules of the day that we forget common sense. So busy trying to measure up the new PC standards that we can't even see the stupid forest for the stupid trees?

"Stupid" is a great word. It's useful, succinct, and, usually, pretty accurate. I'm holding on to you "stupid"! I'll fight the "stupid" fight!!!

Not Quite The Circle of Life

I was sitting at breakfast with The Boy this morning, enjoying a little "boy & Mommy time", which we seldom get to have. As we were enjoying our grilled cheeses, he said to me, "Mom, and you know what I dreamed 'bout this night?"

"What, little buddy?" (Oh, he's sharing a little picture into his soul...what a moment! The house is quiet and it's just my baby boy and me. Oh...this is sooo "Hallmarky".)

"Well, you 'member we watched that show the other (pronounced "udder") day and there was that jaguar chasing that baby reindeer (a baby antelope, but at my house anything with four legs and the possibility of having horns is called a reindeer)?"

"Yeah, little man, I remember that."

"Well, I dreamed last night that I was standing in front and I caught that little baby reindeer." (Ahhh, a hero in the making! What a kind, loving heart he has already. Taking on a jaguar! He's going to be such a lovely grown man...considerate, gentle, with a touch of heroic when necessary. I'm quite amazed at myself for molding this little creature into the kind of man he'll become. I wasn't raised around boys so I was nervous I wouldn't be able to pull it off, ya know? I chuckle and shake my head at doubting myself. I'm actually getting a little teary just thinking about it. I've got to set this grilled cheese down so that when he finishes this tale I can scoop him up and cover him with kisses. What an angel! A blond haired, blue-eyed angel!)

"Son, you caught that little baby reindeer? I'm so proud of you! You rescued that poor, tiny thing and saved it from that big, bad jaguar?"

"No, Mom. I let him eat it."

Pestilence, Contamination, and Water Bugs...Oh, My

Funny, a rose by any other name would smell the same...but if you find a cockroach in YOUR house it's called a "water bug"!

Not too long after we moved into the new house, I opened the kitchen cabinet where I keep the kids' cups one morning and, lo and behold, what should be up on the top shelf...a ginormous, disgusting, creep-crawly "water bug"! Holy...total...contamination. Great. Now I'm going to have to bleach everything in the cabinet. You caught the whole "kid's cups" part, right? Water bottles, sippy cups and ALL those little pieces. What the hell? I've NEVER had a "water bug" in my house! I'm completely freakish about cleanliness in the kitchen. How could this have happened? OMG - I want to gut the whole kitchen and build a new one! After a few seconds of repulsive dry heaving, I knew I had to get up there and get the thing. Top shelf, mind you, so I had to get a chair. No one else was up yet, so it was up to me to handle the situation. I quietly dragged a chair over to the counter, yanked off one of my wedge-heeled flip flops, and slowly approached the thing, which was haphazardly perched atop a plastic water bottle. Ew! Didn't like that bottle anyway.

Anyhow, I carefully, timidly, silently came up behind the thing, lifting up my flip flop in my right hand like a sword ready to strike...preparing myself for the disgusting crunch sound of the kill...and so help me God, that thing FLEW off the cup and HIT me in my LIP nearly knocking me and my one flip flop off the chair and onto the floor! Holy, holy, holy complete and total contamination!!! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO BLEACH MY UPPER LIP! Um...for the FIRST TIME!

It flew (Yes...FLEW! They FLY! Gross factor just got multiplied by 10,000.) across the kitchen and landed, of course, on the top of the cabinet on the other side of the island. I grabbed a paper towel and a bottle of 409 and scoured my face, all the while keeping an eye on my "friend" on the other side of the room. Oh, it is SO on! You came into the WRONG house, buddy! After three attempts, nearly spraining my ankle, knocking stuff off the counters, and hobbling around the room with the chair(one flip flop still on and one in hand) I finally caught up with that damn thing and nearly gagged when I squashed it beneath my shoe. Oh *shiver* that is SO gross! (I failed to mention the part about when all the racket woke the kids up and they came downstairs and said, "Mommy, don't kill it. Catch it and put it outside." Oh, go hug a tree you little hippies. This is war...and war is ugly! Grab a PopTart and go find a cartoon or something. Put it outside...geesh...)

As soon as it was over and I reclaimed the kitchen as MY domain, I grabbed the phone book and called the exterminator. "I don't care what it costs...get here now! I HAVE A SITUATION!" I've heard that if you see one bug, there are a hundred. I sat at the kitchen table, waiting for them to start dive bombing me from every direction, seeking revenge for their fallen comrade. I had my flip flop. I was ready.

David the Bug Man, my new best friend, arrived and went all around the house, inside and out, up and down, and assured me this bug was a lone ranger. He also said that most people don't know this, but it is very common for cockroaches, I mean...um..."water bugs", to come into your home at night, scurry around, and leave out the same place they came in before dawn. Oh yeah...and EVERYBODY has them.

So sleep well my friends. Rest peacefully thinking that your house is quiet, clean, and "water bug"-free. But, apparently, no matter how completely OCD you are about cleanliness, cockroaches are up all night and they are probably doing a conga line down your kitchen counter.

Night, night. Don't let the "water bugs" bite.

How Y'alls Guys Doin'?

Northerners listen up. I'm just going to say this one time. People that are born and bred in the south NEVER refer to one lone person as "y'all". "Y'all" is plural. It's not that we mind you mimicking the talk when you are down here visiting. We know. It IS cute and it IS fun to talk this way. But when you refer to one person as "y'all", it's as wrong as Renee Zellweger's accent in "Bridget Jones' Diary" and you ain't foolin' nobody, sugar. It'd be like if one of us headed up north, walked up to you in a deli and said, "How y'alls guys doin'?"

You Might Be A Redneck...

If you've ever ordered a cake in the shape of a pound of bacon for your best friend's 40th birthday...you might be a redneck.

Add this cake to the many reasons why I love living in the South. Not too many folks up North would order up a bacon birthday cake.

No, it wasn't bacon flavored, but I wonder....

Hope It's Not Lost In Translation

This is how they REALLY say them...and they correct me if I say them the "right" way.

God is great. God is good.
Lettuce thank 'em for our food.
By his hands, we are Fred.
Give us, Lord, our daily bread.
Amen.


Now I weigh me down a sweep,
I pray da wormie soul a keep.
And if I die before I wake,
I pray da wormie soul a cake.
Amen.