*Long day, filled with snot, naps, soccer and shopping. Everybody now has long pants/sleeve shirts for what passes for winter in the valley. This is good, because we have no money left, and I hear cotton is edible. Seriously–the clerk rang up the receipt and I said, straightfaced, ‘Well that took care of my little constipation problem.’ The clerk, who had been talking about keeping her son from having sex in the bathroom during high school by reminding him of what it had been like growing up with a single mother–no shit, her conversation–looked at the total and said “Now see! This is exactly why I tell him he has to be careful!” Alas, my day left me no couch time with Ladybug, though, and sadly enough, it’s all I really wanted.
*Chicken was bra shopping–or rather, she was in the changing room and I was showering shit to try on through the door. Not a soul was in that section of the store, and I’d knock on the door and say, “Can I give you something?” And she’d make me wait until she was fully dressed. Now really–how am I going to humiliate her and keep up Oprah’s ratings if she makes me do that? Anyway, I gave her two perfectly sensible bras, and she told me ‘Moooooom… all the other girls have the ones with the pretty colors…” So I went looking for the ‘trendy bras’. Seriously–when did it become fashionable to put teenagers in candy colored bras? Was it when the bra became acceptable outerwear on television? We didn’t find an acceptable ‘trendy bra’–I’m hoping because she’s too sensible a girl and recognized that anything ‘trendy’ was also damned uncomfortable, but I’m still a little bug-eyed from the ‘My Little Pony’ underwear for adults to breathe a sigh of relief.
* Chicken has also finished VUNERABLE. Which she gave 5 stars. And, (and I hope my gut-rotted amazon.com troll is reading this, because maybe it will leave me alone for another two months!) she also read WOUNDED. Which she gave 3 stars. I’m a little confused as to why–her claim seems to be that since Cory has two man-gods and a towel boy in the sequel, she doesn’t get to be depressed that her first boy-friend blew up. I told her that anybody gets to be depressed that their first boyfriend blew up, and she wasn’t too keen on the towel-boy in the first place. She still had no sympathy, so there, amazon.com troll–I’m not afraid to hear criticism, even from my own Chicken. Whom I will now sell to mean gypsies with poor hygiene and no cable tv or internet. Because I’m mean like that.
* For those of you with children who have seen Spongebob Squarepants, this next part is gonna crack you up. Everyone else, bear with me. The short people were watching an episode this morning in which Spongebob trained his pet snail, Gary, in a race against his snail sweetie, Snelly. The race ended badly, because Gary blew out his eyeballs, but it featured Spongebob jumping up and down screeching ‘Go Gary, Go Gary, Go Gary!!!’ while the poor slimy animated invertebrate oozed sadly along a track. The episode wrapped up, we sent them outside to get in the car, and when I got out there with my keys, (there may have been a two minute ‘where-the-fuck-are-my-keys’ gap in there, I don’t remember) Ladybug is crawling on her hands and knees around the car on the driveway, while Cave Troll is jumping up and down screaming ‘Go Gary! Go Gary! Go Gary!’ Maybe I didn’t do it justice, but really, it WAS high hilarity at its finest.
* And to finish up… we stopped at the LYS today, just Ladybug and I, and while I was looking around, Ladybug was quietly playing in the toy area Babetta has set up for short people such as her granddaughters and, well, Ladybug and Cave Troll. Another mother came up to me and said, “Wow–she’s so good. She’s amazing!” I smiled and said ‘Thank you’ while privately thinking that it was pretty weird–she was usually one of those annoying children pushing the fake shopping cart up and down the yarn aisles while throwing skeins in. (I love Babetta–she thinks this is cute, but I’m usually plotzing until I can turn that boat around!) It turns out that it wasn’t weird–it was perfectly natural. Ladybug’s morning dump was waiting for me in her diaper when we got to the car.
* All that, and a panicked e-mail from a friend saying, “Hey–aren’t you supposed to be signing books this week?” I actually checked the on-line flyer before I sent back, “No–it’s next week. But we can throw my panties in the washer now.” I mean really–that’s a pretty full Saturday, right?