Archive for the ‘village idiot’ Category

I wet my pants a little.

January 16, 2009

Me: “It’s freezing out here. It’s a good thing I have these mitten-y glove thingies.” (Yes, in my everyday life I’m quite articulate.)

Reagan: “What?”

Me: “They have places for each finger and then a flap that pulls over and they look like mittens. So they are ‘Gluffins,’ I guess…”

Reagan: “What? What are they?”

Me: “Gluffins! You know, Gloves and Muffins!”

Reagan: “Muffins?”

Me: “Oh, yah….”

Reagan: “They are GLITTENS! Are you high?

Me: “No, I’m not high! What do you know about being high anyway?”

Reagan: “Gluffins! Gluffins! I think you are high!”

Me: (laughing hysterically, yet denying illicit drug use)

Me: (still laughing) “I hope ‘Jaylor’ and ‘Take’ enjoy the ‘chries’ and ‘fricken’ we are having for dinner.”

Reagan: “You are so weird!”

Hair and food (such an appealing combo!)

May 7, 2008

Yesterday I had to take Taylor to the dentist for a follow up visit (cavity!). After signing him back in at the school, one of his teachers came up to me and said:

“What happened to Taylor’s hair?”

And she said it in the same concerned and bewildered tone one might use when asking someone about a broken arm or a black eye!

I wanted to laugh, but I was sympathetic; I’m well known for putting my foot in my mouth. For example, earlier this week my co-worker’s adult son emailed her and said he was making enchiladas for the first time and might be calling her later for advice.

I responded, “That’s so nice, kids always have fond memories of their mother’s cooking, even if the mom doesn’t cook well.”

Warding off Alzheimer’s one square at a time

February 25, 2008

Saturday night I took the kids, Tay, Rea, and W., to see a performance by the BBQ Kittens, an improv group that performs shows similar to “Whose Line is it Anyway.”

On the way there we met Chris to switch cars. During the Chinese Fire Drill Chris dropped his OUR cell phone. He arrived home, called and confirmed that it wasn’t in the car and decided the best plan of action was not “go and look for phone” but “sit and watch TV.” Ugh. Men.

We enjoyed the BBQ Kittens show tremendously and decided to stay for the second performance. During the break between shows I started doing a Sudoku puzzle and, determined and addicted, I continued to do it between skits. Big mistake.

I got HECKLED by a cast member during the show!

So embarrassing.

In one scene a performer mentioned that something was “As bad as the girl in the front row doing a sudoku puzzle during a BBQ Kittens show.”

Nevertheless, we had a great time and the next morning my husband decided the time was right to go look for the phone. And he found it.

In four run over pieces.


February 20, 2008

This morning I’m feeling a little “off,” a little fuzzy headed. My idiocy was just confirmed by the following internal dialogue while checking my email:
“Oh, a Freecycle email urgently needing a bassinet. I wonder who plays the bassinet? Did a child just join band? Or did someone suddenly have a whim to learn to play the bassinent?”

Luckily my next email wasn’t from a Mr. Okon who needs help moving money from his native land, Nigeria, to an account in the U.S. and will reward me greatly for helping him set it up.

Of course, it was from my bank asking me to confirm my account (and so odd that they misspelled CEFCU in the address line.)

January 16, 2008

My kids received their report cards last Friday.

Not awful, but:

Reagan had a C in science and Taylor had a low B.

Worse then that, though, was their teacher’s comment:
“Could do better.”

A less pretentious way of saying “doesn’t work up to full potential,” but more subtle than saying “Your spawn is LAZY.”

I’m really upset with both of my children and gave them a lovely, rambling lecture, with the main theme being “Lazy is a choice, dumb is not. I’d rather have you be dumb, which you couldn’t help, than lazy which you can.”

Of course, dumb is forever, but hopefully lazy can be conquered. Right?

Honestly, it’s the lack of effort, their unwillingness to give every assignment their all that is upsetting me. If Reagan had worked really hard on science and received a “C,” I wouldn’t be thrilled, but I could accept it.

I’m just not sure what an appropriate punishment or motivator is at this time. Reagan is grounded for the C, that’s just our general house rule, “nothing below a B.” But I’m beginning to question that rule.

According to their teachers, both kids are capable of being A students, and both also seem (usually) equally capable of figuring out exactly how much work they need to do to stay out of the “red zone” of C’s and below. Since they could get all A’s, should that be our requirement?

I’m really torn about this and would love any advice. Am I overreacting? Is this laziness of the last year or so just a product of their ages? (13 and 14) Or is it something I need to “nip in the bud” before it worsens?


August 10, 2007

Yesterday afternoon I had a doctor appointment in Peoria, at 3:00. I left Princeville at 2:00-ish and, arriving “in town,” realized I had 15 minutes to spare before my appointment. I decided to run into Linen’s and Things and buy a birthday present I needed for today (happy birthday Laura!). Imagine my surprise, when walking by the register, who would be in line but, um, my boss. She said “Hi?” At which point I proceeded to stammer….. “on way to dr’s office” “extra time” “not really using my sick leave, to, (gulp) shop at the mall…..” “really, on my way to the doctor” “extra time.” I am sure all of my stuttering, gulping and shifty eyed looks, were the classic signs of lying. (But, I wasn’t, really! Really on my way to the doctor! I promise.)

Teenage boys are mysterious creatures.

May 3, 2007

Yesterday my son told me this story:
“Mom, after P.E. someone stole my shoe. He put it in Devon’s locker, who was absent today, and locked it up. I couldn’t get it out and had to go to class BAREFOOT.”
Yes, my 13 year-old did not have the problem solving skills to say, maybe wear his P.E. SHOES. It’s a sad state of affairs, this village idiot I seem to be raising. Plus, the story had a couple of other glaring holes. If he knew where the shoe was, how did he not know who took it? He was also wearing the shoes as we spoke, so how did he get the “stolen” one back?

This is the same boy who once lost a snow boot at recess, continued playing, and it was never found. He has lost several fall jackets due to “getting hot at recess” and taking them off… I guess they blew away.

I am really dreading it when he gets his retainer.