My eight-year-old nephew said a squirrel had been digging in their sandbox, making holes in their castles. His mom told him to be sure to wash his hands after he played in there because squirrels can carry diseases.
He said, “Squirrels don’t have backpacks, so how can they carry diseases?”
Moral of the story: Be safe. Don’t play with squirrels, backpacks or not.
Indoor skydiving, that is. Not quite as cool as the real thing, but still fun.
Anyhow, I had a hair tie in, but somewhere along the way, it was sucked up into the giant suctioning fan, never to be seen again.
When I got home, my kids said, “Mom, what happened to your hair?”
That bad.
I spent 15 minutes trying to work out the snarls with my fingers because my brush was utterly useless. In that time, I untangled maybe a third of it. Then I remembered that conditioner exists, so I hopped in the shower, feeling sure there was a bottle in there somewhere.
There was not.
I texted my friend two houses down with a desperate plea for conditioner. She didn’t respond until much later. She’d gone for a walk without her phone, and had wished she could text me because she’d left her oven on. I showed her my hair. She showed me her food.
Fortunately, her house didn’t fill with smoke, but it did smell, she reported.
Her veggies were ruined, and I was seriously considering chopping my hair, or at least portions of it, way short. She recooked, and I spent the entirety of a Doc Martin episode (Have you seen this show? You must.) straightening my hair out with my fingers.
But it was all worth it because this:
And this:
In case you’re wondering, I know where my neighbors hide their key due to an unfortunate baking incident in which I had to do the cliché of all clichés: ask to borrow a cup of sugar.
She responded that she wasn’t home, but would be in half an hour. However, if I needed sugar right away, she’d tell me where she hides the key.
I texted back, “Please tell me where you hide the key. And the good chocolate.”
Believe it or not, she told me both, but I didn’t dare raid her cocoa stash. A woman’s chocolate is sacred. But the fact that she was willing to let me partake, in addition to entering her home while she was gone… truly an amazing neighbor.
Questions for you to ponder/comment on:
Do share!
As a Christmas present, my daughter gave me coupons to sleep with certain of her beloved stuffed animals. When I cashed in one of my coupons, I found this waiting for me in my bed.
My daughter, who grew up loving stuffed animal frogs, is now too old for them. {Brief moment of sad reflection.} And so it was time to rehome her amphibian friends.
This was the first to go:
As I handed the giant frog to her new owner, who is, ironically, a teenage girl, I said, “She goes by Rita, but will respond to anything.”
The girl held the stuffed animal out in front of her and, with a gleam in her eye (the girl’s, not the frog’s), said, “You shall be called, ‘Rita’!”
Clearly, it seemed to me, this girl knew that the name fit.
I reported the happy news to my daughters: Not only had the frog gone to a new loving home, she would be able to retain her name! “Isn’t that wonderful?” I said.
I was met with blank stares. Didn’t my children personify animals the way I did?? Didn’t they care?!
Our family took a mini trip to a rented house in a quaint little mountain town known for its apple cider and apple pie. On the drive, as we got farther and farther from our city by the sea (and sea level), Husband warned the kids of several possibilities, due to the altitude:
Their ears might start to hurt, due to the altitude.
The air is thinner, so it might be harder to breathe, due to the altitude.
It’s much colder, due to the altitude.
These possible side effects were mentioned several times… due to the altitude.
At the house, one daughter said the water tasted different, “maybe due to the altitude.” (I suggested it was probably just the different fridge.)
As another daughter climbed into bed with socks on, I was shocked to see how filthy the bottom of her feet were.
I’m going through my drafts folder, of which I have 22 potential posts. This was the oldest. The daughter I speak of is now 15! This was fun for me to read, as I didn’t remember any of it. So grateful for this blog to store these memories. I hope you enjoy this little tale.
My oldest daughter was two-years-old, I would regularly take a nap on the couch while she played quietly nearby. Yep, you read that correctly. I could nap without fear while my TWO-year-old played. She was certainly something special.
Usually I would sleep with a blanket on me. One day I laid down without first grabbing the blanket. My daughter noticed this and got my blanket for me, spreading it carefully across my body. Another time, the blanket had slipped off my feet, so she replaced it for me.
Pic by tookapic of Pixabay.
Perhaps a year or two later, Read the rest of this entry
Hubs and I were standing in the kitchen when youngest daughter said, “Damn.” Our eyes widened.
What in the world?
I turned and saw this:
Isn’t my son so stylish with his new spikey hair gel look?
Nope. It’s just Read the rest of this entry
My children have become resourceful in their time of need. And boredom.
Snails in their new… terrarium, I guess?
Closer shot. They look happy. I mean, I think.
After gathering these creatures from the neighborhood, the girls are learning snail husbandry. Each snail is named and checked on daily. A chart has been made with dates, colorations, observations. “What snails eat” has been googled many times to be sure they are well cared for.
Then, several weeks in, lo and behold… Read the rest of this entry
Writing and Martial Arts 