Trouble in High Heels

David:  Sabrina, you'll need to change out of your dress and put on pants so we can go soccer shopping.

Sabrina:  I'm fine.

D:  No, really, please change.

S:  I don't want to. I like my dress.

D:  I'm just thinking it would be easier for you.

S:  Dad, stop.

D:  So you're really going to run with a dress on?

S:  I'm not going to change.

D:  Or how about trying on shoes and pulling the socks up above your knees? I'm thinking that might be a little embarrassing.

S:  Dad, please. I did martial arts in P.E. today in this dress. I think I can handle some shoe shopping.

The Glow is Gone

Sabrina: Hey, Mom, while I was visiting grandma's house, I saw a picture of you. You were so pretty!

Me: Um . . .

David: Were?

Sabrina: Well, I mean, you're okay now, too, but back then you had this . . . glow.

Me: I don't glow now?

Sabrina: Not really. How come you don't glow anymore?

David: Having three kids will do that to a person.

Me: Yup, you're the reason I sit here now all dull and tarnished.

It Has Tentacles!

I would like to preface this with the statement that I've been sicker than a dog for almost a full week now. So let's just agree to chalk this little incident up to loss of brain cells due to illness, okay?

I caught the flu. No wimpy 24-hour stomach bug for me. Oh, no, I had to go and catch influenza and do it up right. This afternoon, I ventured downstairs for the first time in five days. Until then the most I've been able to do is drag myself from my bed to the bathroom and back again, whereupon I'd need hours to recuperate from that little jaunt. Full-blown influenza is the absolute pits. But after days of chills, sweats, aches and trying to hack up a lung, I thought I would go downstairs and make myself a piece of toast.

On shaky legs I made it down the stairs, glad for the banister to help keep me upright, and made myself a piece of sourdough toast. Thinking I had accomplished enough for the day, I decided to go back upstairs. As I headed toward the stairs I saw . . . something on the floor. Not sure what it was, but too tired to really care all that much, I kept on shuffling. Until the something scuttled away from my approaching feet.

I immediately shrieked and leapt onto the couch in a single bound. This was quite impressive since I had lost most of my voice due to coughing so much, and the couch was a good five feet behind me. The girls shrieked in sympathy, then stopped and said, "What happened, Mom?"

Me:      A spider! The biggest one I've ever seen!

Sabrina went to take a look, then screamed louder than the first time and also made an impressive leap for the couch. "Oh, my God, what is it?!?"

Me:      I don't know. A spider?

Sabrina:            Spiders DON'T HAVE TENTACLES, Mom!

Me:      I know. But what else could it be?

Rose:    (standing on her chair) What is it? What is it?

This was taken after the fact and only after much cajoling and bribing. The girls were surprisingly reluctant to reenact this for me so I could take some quality photos.

  

Sabrina:            What are we going to do?

Me:      Let's call Calvin.

We all spent a good few minutes standing on furniture and yelling at the top of our lungs for my nine-year-old son to come and save us. He couldn't hear us because he was plugged into his computer game upstairs with his headphones on. About this time I started thinking all those years playing "Lava" with my children were going to come in handy, because I needed to figure out a way to get from the family room to the stairs without touching the ground. No way was I getting anywhere near that tentacled monstrosity.

Fortunately, Calvin finally heard us and came down to see what was wrong. We explained the situation, and he said he'd be right back. A few minutes later warrior Calvin came back down.

I nixed the book idea since I'd rather arm-wrestle that spider-thing than face my husband if our new wood floor was dented. Calvin came back with a Swiffer mop. Now that was some good thinking on his part. I was impressed. It provided a fairly large rectangular area with which to squish the spider, while still giving him some distance from it. He squished it flat, said it was dead, and headed back up the stairs. As he disappeared from view he said, "Oh, by the way, it was only some lint."

How Do You Compete With Crazy?

I think those of you who are acquainted with me know that I loathe exercise in all of its many and varied forms. But lately I've been noticing creaks and groans in the joints and I have had to face the fact that I am no longer a spring chicken. To counteract the effects of time, I decided it was time to implement an exercise program. So for the last month I have been quietly exercising. And by quietly I mean bitching, moaning, cursing, and generally being a pill about the whole thing.

I sucked it up and started moving my body. I have exercised four times a week for a month now. I have done everything from yoga and pilates to a spin class and walking. I even went to a body pump class taught by my friend Erin that was both frightening and amazing and left me hobbling for a full four days. I have been very proud of myself.

Until a few days ago.

That is when I found out that my husband took my exercise idea and, as so eloquently stated by my daughter, raised it by about a billion. Nothing simple like moving your body a couple of times a week for him. Oh no! Never one to do things by half measures, he decided he was going to run every day for 100 straight days. That's right. You heard me. One Hundred Days Of Running. Good lord, how can I compete with that? I told him I now officially hate him as anything I do looks pathetic and wimpy compared to him.

If you want to follow him and see how he's faring with this ridiculous goal, you can read about it here. http://run100days.blogspot.com/

It's Not Easy Being an Evil Genius

Sabrina: Calvin, let me give you some tips here. When you attempt an evil laugh, you have to let it all out. You can't do it through your nose. If you do, you just end up blowing snot on people, and while that's evil, it's not really the evil you're going for.

And You Thought iPad Was a Bad Name

I received a nook for my birthday a couple of years ago. Upon acquiring it, it did not take long for me to jump on the ebook bandwagon. I love it for many reasons, not least of which is that I can hide my book buying habit from my husband. Twenty-five (thirty-five? forty?) books are much easier to hide in my nook than on my bedside table.

But then family members started borrowing my nook, most notably Sabrina, but also David and Calvin. And therein lies the downside of keeping all your books in one small electronic device. If you don't have your device, you don't have your books. Good thing I keep a small stash of paper books for just such emergencies.

But my stash was running low, so I bought Sabrina her very own nook for her birthday so she would stop borrowing mine. She discovered when setting it up that you can name your nook.

Sabrina: Mom, guess what? You can name your nook!

Me: Yes, I know.

S: What did you name yours?

Me: My nook.

S: That's totally boring. I named mine Nookie.

Me: Ha ha ha!

S: What? What's wrong with nookie?

Me: (giggling) Absolutely nothing, dear.

David: Nope, nothing wrong with nookie.

S: Why are you guys laughing? I don't get it. What'd I do?

D: Do you spend a lot of time with nookie?

Me: Hee, hee, hee.

S: WHAT? You have to tell me!

Me: Um, nookie? Slang term for sex.

S: Ewwwww! That's gross. Why would people ruin a perfectly good word like that? I'll have to change its name now.

(a few days later on the way home from school)

S: I was talking with my English teacher today. I told him how many books I read over Christmas break. He was really impressed.

Me: Yup, all you really need in life is just you and some nookie.

S: MOM!!

Me: (innocently) What?

S: Don't be so gross!

Me: All I said was that you really like to spend time with your e-reader. Get your mind out of the gutter, girlfriend.

S: You did that on purpose! My nook is no longer nookie. I have officially renamed it.

Me: To what?

S: Nookalicious.

Me: (snorting) Oh, yeah, that's much better.

(a few days later . . .)

S: I have an announcement. Since I cannot deal with your childish behavior, I have hereby renamed my nook Steve.

Me: Are you going to make sure that you and Steve get some quality time together this weekend?

S: Oh. My. God. You are so weird, Mom.

Medical care at its finest.

Sabrina and Calvin are playing veterinarian with their stuffed animals.

Vet (Calvin): What can I do for you today?

Pet Owner (Sabrina): Well, doctor, Mr. Bun Buns is suffering from depression. He doesn't seem to want to engage in his usual activities. Plus, he has no friends.

Vet: I would suggest he go find a friend then.