Lazy Sunday

Okay– the little kids went out and played in the little pool, and they had a blast.  They’re tired.

Mate went out for a long run– he pooped out before the end of the run, and he’s TOTALED.

Big T went out and mowed my parent’s lawn.  He’s recovering.

Chicken walked to her friend’s house.  She’s elsewhere.

And me?  What did I do that leaves me drooping over my keyboard at not quite eight p.m.?

Well, I proofed my galley for Believed You Were Lucky, the embarrassingly long novella in The Three Fates anthology.

I feel embarrassed–usually I’m the fountain of physical activity, but today, I went shopping for vitamin water (on kid request) and pretty much that’s the total of my involvement in the outside world.  Ah, well– I did get 1.5K started on the steampunk story, and that’s something, right?

So I’ve been trying to save up some funny kid moments for you, and I’m afraid they might have flown the noggin, but usually when I say that, as soon as I start accessing that memory bank, they come flooding back– let’s see if I can pull up a few.

*  In the rented Pathfinder in Oregon, which needed two seats shoved forward EVERY TIME the family got in or out of it, we found a gauge for how far back to shove the front seats:  “Keep shoving it back,” I told Mate.  “Don’t stop until you hear Big T grunt!”

*  This morning, when the little kids were watching Mythbusters:

Me:  “Are they seriously doing an episode on fart myths?”

Mate: “Yup!”

Me: “Awesome!”

Chicken:  “What are they doing an episode on?”

Me:  “Fart myths!”

Chicken:  “Awesome!  Where’s Big T– he needs to see this!”

*   Zoomboy, yesterday before we were all supposed to leave for a baby shower, stands up and announces, “I am going to the bathroom where I may have diarrhea, and I may vomit.”

He did not vomit, but we didn’t bring him to the shower, either!

*  Squish, upon guessing how many colored M&M’s were in the glass jar:  “Can we put 100?”

Me:  “How about 100 plus your age.  How many is that?”

Squish:  “106!”

And then, upon winning, “Mom!  Look what I won!  I guessed that right all by myself!”

(But she DID help maintain her mother’s streak of winning at least one game at nearly every shower I’ve been to.)

*  Chicken, upon looking at my phone.  “My God, how many texts do you and Mary have?”

Me:  “Probably a lot.  I haven’t deleted it in forever.”

Chicken, skimming further and further up the smartphone and blessedly ignoring the porn:  “Yeah, mom.  June 11th.  That was like… like… a lifetime ago.”

“You’re awfully smart for someone who sends herself some of the (non-porn!) pictures that Mary sends me.”

Chicken (with narrowed eyes):  “Well played, mother.  Well played.”

*  Mary and I were texting about something, and I meant to text the word “Came”– what came out was “Cane”.

Mary:  “If I’d been texting that, it would have been ‘Kane’.”

Me:  “I am aware.”

Mary:  Because every time I text ‘sex’ it comes out ‘Dex’.  I texted my husband and he sent back, ‘Who the hell is Dex and tell Amy to keep him out of our private conversation!’

Me:  “What did you say?”

Mary:  “I told him he’s YOUR character– you know he’s hot!”

*  Big T, just now, as I was dishing up dinner and trying to remember some of the funnier things we’ve said:  “Sometimes, I’m just in the mood for Brazil.”

Me, confused:  “The Terry Gilliam movie?”

Big T:  “Yes. I like the satire.”

Me:  “Good, because I don’t think we can afford the trip just now.”

*  Me, upon returning from a FABULOUS baby shower for Zoomboy and Squish’s previous childcare provider, who was also (as well as her fiancé) a former student of mine.  (Her mother originally provided childcare for Zoomboy, and Brenda sort of took over after her mother and father went back to Dominica.)  “Yes– I love Brenda’s family.  I think her parents like me.  Her dad tried to get me drunk.”

Chicken:  “How’d he do that?”

Me: “Well, he poured me some liquor that was soaking in a glass jar over wood chips and had to be strained through a net, then added some coke to it, and told me it was a little strong.”

Chicken:  “Was it strong?”

Me: “I saw fireworks.  Dominican Rum does NOT fuck around.  Seriously.  Needs a skull and crossbones.  Don’t drink it ’til you’re forty.”

Chicken:  “Good to know.  I’ll put that on my list of stupid grown-up tricks.”

Me:  “Well, it did ensure I’d stay until the end of the shower.”

*  And this conversation that I may or may not have told you about before, on text, with Chicken, while Mate and I were lost in the wilds of Oregon, and Chicken and Big T were with Mate’s father.

Chicken: “We’re at the hotel.  Where are you?”

Me:  “Butt lost.”

Chicken:  “This is AWKWARD!”

Me:  “Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

Chicken:  “I don’t know what to say.”

Me:  “Relax–if we go off a cliff, your relative will take good care of you.”

Chicken:  “Grandpa’s asleep.”

Me:  “Hang on, honey, we’re on our way.”

And that’s about all.  Did I mention I finished Stanley’s story?  For those keeping track, that makes the three titles in that series, The Winter Courtship Rituals of Fur-Bearing Critters, How to Raise an Honest Rabbit, and A Knitter in His Natural Habitat.  In honor of those stories, I’m leaving you with adorable critters, because I was a little short on suitable pix.