Thursday, July 30, 2015
What's going on in my teenage daughter's head is a desire to own more pets. "Mom," she said. "My friend has a pet hedgehog."
"That's nice," I said.
She put her iPhone in front of my face. "Here's a picture of it puking up peas. It's so cute. Can I get one?"
I gave her one of my sideways looks. "No."
"What about a pocket pet? I've always wanted one of those."
"What's a pocket pet?" I asked.
"Those things we saw at the mall. They look like flying squirrels."
"No. Absolutely no flying squirrels!"
She must've figured she wasn't going to get any new adorable fur balls, so she stopped the discussion.
Later, my family and I stopped at a restaurant called Cracker Barrel. It's one of those places that has a gift shop inside. When we were about to leave, my husband said he had to do something and he'd meet us at the car. I figured that meant a trip to the restroom.
We waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I went back in to see if he had gotten lost. I found him. He had just finished checking out, and he had a package under his arm.
"What's that?" I asked.
He handed it to me. I looked inside.
It was our new pet. A pig. Her name is Petunia. And she's very nice. She even walks and wiggles her nose. The good news is, she doesn't fly or puke up peas. I think we'll keep her.
Monday, July 27, 2015
It started innocently enough. My husband was sitting on the sofa with a Nerf gun tucked under his leg. He figured nobody would see it. And they didn't.
When the group of ten-year-old boys came up behind him, ready to shoot, he gave them the shock of their lives. He grabbed his weapon, stood up, whipped around, and fired. All in one motion.
Let's just say, the boys didn't stick around long. They scattered, howling from the stings of the Nerf bullets, and retreated to safer ground.
My husband let out an evil laugh and shouted, "Beware of the Pain Train!"
Right. Especially one with military training!
Friday, July 24, 2015
I took a look at it. Sure enough, there was a substantial hole in the stuffed dog's neck. Lots of cotton stuffing was popping out. "I think I might be able to help."
I grabbed my special medical kit which contains assorted thread, needles, and scissors. Then I went to work. In about five minutes, I had the gaping wound all stitched up. I handed it back to my son.
He looked at it. "Wow," he said. "I can't even tell where the hole was. You're a pretty good stuffed animal doctor!"
(It's amazing what mamas can do!)
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Before I begin my story, I wanted to let you know about a new book that will be released in a few weeks. It's called, Hot Pink in the City, and it's by my blogger friend, Medeia Sharif. I've read a few of her books. They're very good - ones that would appeal to Young Adult readers. She's a very talented, hard-working writer.
I'm sure this book will be excellent, too!
Now for the story:
I was putting my son's clothes away last night. When I opened his sock drawer, I saw something very strange. A toasted bagel.
"Bubba," I called. "Why is there a bagel in your drawer?"
He came in and looked at it. "I don't know how that got there."
"You don't know how it got there?" I asked. "Well, dude, it didn't just walk in there. And how many times have I told you not to bring food into your bedroom? You're going to end up with ants in your pants!"
He made a face.
"What were you trying to do?" I asked.
"I was cleaning up. You always tell me to put things in my drawers, so I was doing it just like you said!"
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
"Mama, I want a piñata, six Nerf guns, silly string, party hats, balloons, and lots of cake, ice cream, and candy."
"Bubba, don't you think that's a little extravagant?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No. It's a double digit party. You only get eight in your lifetime. I'll only have seven more after this. It has to be special!"
"Oh," I said. "Well, I'm going to have a double digit birthday, too. Can I be extravagant?"
"Sure, Mama. What are you going to get?"
"A ticket to jump out of an airplane."
He looked at me like I was crazy. "Really?"
"Yep. Because I have only four more double digit birthdays left. I'm half-way done with them, so I'm going to make this one special!"
(Yes, ladies and gentlemen, yours truly is going to jump out of an airplane in less than two weeks. It's going to be awesome!)
Thursday, July 16, 2015
I bet you can't guess what happened. Yes. The downdraft from the helicopter caused my papers to fly off the table.
"Bubba!" I said. "Get that thing out of here!"
He laughed while I scrambled to get everything back in order. Once everything was in place, I took a deep breath and resumed my work.
Five minutes later, the boy was back. I anchored everything down, because I knew what was coming. Sure enough, Mister Annoying Pilot maneuvered his air craft above my work space. Without looking up, I reached and grabbed that thing right out of the sky.
I looked over at my boy. He was clearly in shock.
"Have you ever heard of King Kong?" I asked.
He nodded. "The giant ape that knocks airplanes out of the sky?"
"Yep," I said. "Guess what?"
He shrugged. "What?"
"I'm Mama Kong. And this helicopter is now out of commission!"
Monday, July 13, 2015
The big project this past weekend, was staining our deck. My husband was outside in the sweltering heat, doing it. When he was done, he put up all kinds of signs indicating that nobody should walk on it.
Apparently, our cat, Bootsy, didn't read the signs. He tried to climb on the deck. My husband caught him and chased him away. That didn't stop the crazy cat from trying again.
A couple of hours later, my husband spotted him on top of the rail, in his favorite napping spot.
"Come take a look at your cat," he said.
I looked out the window. There he was in all his glory, with stain splotches covering his fur coat. I shook my head and went over to the sliding doors. Little paw prints could be seen on the stain. I opened the door and stuck my head out. "Bootsy, what do you think you're doing?"
He opened his eyes, stared at me for two seconds, and then resumed his nap.
Talk about some cattitude! I think I need to send him to the dog house!
Friday, July 10, 2015
There have been a lot of new roofs getting put on in our neighborhood. A few months ago, we had a severe hail storm that caused a lot of damage. The roofing company has been out and about, inspecting and replacing roofs. The inspection is not quite what you'd think. I think you'd think that someone would actually have to get on top of the roof and look at it. No. That's not what happens. A remote controlled drone flies over the roof and takes pictures. It's a whole lot safer than risking your life trying to climb all over steep-pitched roofs!
Schultz encountered one of these drones as it flew over his head. He cocked his head and looked at it, wondering what it might be. He watched as it flew over the roof, taking pictures. Then he watched as it flew back to its controller. Schultz wagged his tale. He thought this was pretty cool. He wanted to get a closer look. We walked over to the controller who showed us the drone. Of course Schultz wanted to see it fly again.
"Okay, Schultz, sit," I said.
"Stay," I said.
The controller flew the drone one more time.
Schultz watched, with a huge smile plastered on his face.
The drone returned, and I thanked the controller. "Come, Schultz. Time to go."
But Schultz didn't want to go. He wanted to play with his friend.
It took a lot of coaxing, but he finally came. Now he is sitting at the window watching to see if his friend will come out and fly again.
Before I go, I'd like to share the trailer for my new book, Ten Zany Birds, that is now on YouTube:
Thursday, July 9, 2015
I went into my son's room and opened the window blinds. After they were opened, I heard a voice. It came from the bed. "Why is it so bright in here?"
Oops. Bubba was still in bed. Sleeping. He opened a groggy eye and looked at me.
"Uh, sorry about that," I said, quickly closing the blinds. "Go back to sleep. Mama is just on automatic pilot!"
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Anyway, the boy came home and wanted to have lunch. He quickly found that he couldn't chew. The plastic covering the roof of his mouth was too much to deal with. And his teeth hurt.
"I can't eat!" he complained. "This is really bad, because eating is something I used to like to do."
"Well, you'll just have to figure something out," I said. "You're not the first person to have a appliance like that in your mouth."
He frowned and tore his sandwich into teeny tiny bits. After an hour, he finished it, but he wasn't happy.
"I know what I need," he said.
"What do you need?" I asked.
"Dentures?" I couldn't imagine why he'd need those.
"I'll make the dentures chew the food before I put it in my mouth. Then all I have to do is swallow."
Monday, July 6, 2015
"Bubba," I said. "Can you please go somewhere else? I'm trying to write, and I can't do it with music on."
"What if I change the station? I can put classical music on for you."
I shook my head. "No, Bubba. I can't listen to any music. Even classical. It's too distracting."
He parked himself next to me. "What are you writing about?"
"Right now, I'm writing about a tsunami, and it's destroying the town."
He nodded. Then he got up with his radio and left.
Good, I thought. A little peace!
Unfortunately, it was short-lived. Bubba came back with his radio. And it was playing something else.
I listened. "Bubba, what is that?"
He grinned. "The sound of ocean waves. It'll help you write about tsunamis!"
Saturday, July 4, 2015
"Mama, I'm the best pitcher!" he said.
I looked at him sideways. "How do you figure that?"
"Because I know how to pitch the perfect pitch."
"Really?" I asked. "I have to see this!"
"You have to be a really good player to hit it."
"I am a good player," I said.
"Okay. Are you ready?"
He winded up the pitch, and then walked forward.
"Dude, what are you doing?" I asked.
He grinned. "Pitching the perfect pitch."
He dropped the ball at the tip of my left foot.
"That was a perfect pitch?" I asked.
"Yep. It went exactly where I wanted it to go!"
Before I go, I'd like to wish all Americans a very Happy Fourth of July!
Thursday, July 2, 2015
"Dude," I said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm bored," he replied.
"Well, go outside and find something to do."
He shook his head. "This is more interesting."
"Counting how many times the blades go around."
I made a face. "Seriously?"
"Do you want to know how to do it?"
"Sure, Bubba. How do you do it?"
He explained. "You have to be under the fan, staring up at it. Then you focus on one of the spaces between the blades. That helps you keep track of the blade, and then you just count."
That sounded thrilling.
"So, how many times has it gone around?"
He smiled. "Since I've been talking to you, eight."
Great. So, ladies and gentlemen, if you're ever bored, just park yourself under a ceiling fan, stare up at it, and start counting.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
When they were done, they cleaned up, and placed their artwork on the table, to allow it to dry. Then they went off to do whatever they do.
Meanwhile, our giant German Shepherd, Schultz, had to inspect what was on the table. With his nose. Nobody witnessed this activity, but it was pretty obvious what he had done. And it wasn't just his nose. His pointy ears were white, too.
"Schultz!" my daughter said when she saw him. "What did you do?"
He cocked his head and looked at her.
Apparently he wanted to create a masterpiece, too!
(We managed to clean his nose, but Schultz is still sporting white-tipped ears!)