...May I present a smallish sampling of things I've learned about myself?
On Speech: Turns out, I abbreviate and nickname a LOT. When my sister asked if something needed to happen and I responded with "potenstsh," a vehement "IALLY" came from the 4 year-old in the other room. The little guys have also started referring to Nora solely as "Noodle," "Silly Sally" and "BugBug." Cole may believe, in fact, that he has multiple female cousins. (There's certainly enough people touching his stuff.)
On How My Writing Is Being Perceived: Quinn was peeking up at his Mom's laptop and saw my blog's site open. He asked "Is this Auntie Kiki's blog?" When he was assured that it was, he pitched his voice a little higher and began to speak- "I was walking down the street and blahderlilalalila..." (That is NOT my process, Q-Dog.)
On Things I Should've Been Saying Already: Tom and I were having a beer with our Mexican fiesta the other night when 2 year-old Cole, leaning over to stare at my bottle, asked if he could Look in [Your] Beerhole. Bumper sticker...go.
On How Easily Disturbed I Am: Kate and I have been watching a ton of late night TV. Okay, 8:30pm TV. But there's a new Hamburger Helper commercial that takes place at- get this- a yard sale. You know, dirty Fisher-Price toys, clothing from the '80s...and a plate of ground beef mixed with pasta. BEING PASSED AROUND ON A PLATE. "Best deal of the day," a mother joyfully exclaims to her two children. Really? Is the "best deal" the plate, the meal, or the heat-induced food poisoning? I asked Kate if she'd ever eat someone else's communal Hamburger Helper at a yard sale. "Depends on how much it was."
And finally, Why Those Old-Peopley Pill Containers Are A Good Idea: For this week's trip, I put all of my vitamins and pills into one drawstring baggie (because, you know, it's SO hard to pack for a week at a sibling's house) and was feeling good about remembering to take them each night before bed. In the room I've been sharing with Nora. In the dark. Going on feel alone, I've proudly been popping pills sight unseen, a fact that became a little too obvious the other night. Tasting something a tad minty, I realized too late that a) I'd mixed painkillers- and forgotten about them- in with the vitamins, b) Target's version of Tylenol is delicious, and c) I may have scurvy but I FEEL NO PAIN.
And that's all we have time for today, folks. Because eventually, someone's gonna come for these four children. Hopefully their real parents.
And Kate and I need to be ready for that.
With cocktails. (And beerholes.)
3 comments:
Sounds like Quinn's getting a little too smart for his own good. Thank goodness his uncle will make sure to bring some uncle-size tormenting to the Cape.
That is funny and I am sure very true.. all of it. Beer holes. Shut them. Kiss my babies and hug yo' bad self :) xox
Hamburger Helper. At a garage sale.
Well, I suppose it's better than Rice-A-Roni being shared in a St Vincent De Paul Thrift Store, but man, not by much.
I'll be over here pouring boiling water over everything I ever bought used, if you need me.
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