Well, meybe I am. My buddy Jackie don taut me all he nose and I learnt a lot. I B redy to go campin now, soon as I git my finger biziness strait. Got my fist in po-sit-ion 'n I alredy thinkin up words to sey to finish this deal off. I may B famus some day but it won't B on Merican Idle, don't quite meet their regimental quali-fi-kations.
Thinking in terms of proportion is an interesting thing to do, when I'm not elbow deep in brain surgery or playing a rocket scientist on TV. As the wee ones eat their dinners, especially as Boudreaux consumes literally a one-pound package of spaghetti noodles on his own and then asks for more, I like to ponder the amount that they eat/drink in relation to their body sizes. For example, Boudreaux's previously mentioned escapades would equal me eating about two and a half pounds of noodles in one sitting and then asking for more. Who could do that? Well, these people could, but that is beside the point.
Later, I was watching Goozie guzzle, only pausing to take quick breaths, eight ounces of juice in about two minutes. I got out my trusty number-puncher-inner-thinger and cal-cer-lated that about 7.5 Goozies equals a me. Don't ask. That's not po-lite. Therefore, in order to keep up proportionately, I would have to guzzle 60 ounces of a beverage in about two minutes.
At first that sounded like a lot, but then upon further reflection, I had fuzzy recollections that, as Bumpus and Fatty Jr. can testify, I have indeed been successful at such guzzling a few times in past.
Announcement: Goozie now has enough hair to blow in the wind!
Next Stop: The Breck Girl.
Original Plan: Three days of camping, the Church of the Great Outdoors.
Reality: Three days of stomach flu, SNOW, and St. Mattress.
Still reeling at what a determined woman and a pair of sheers can do to a fluffernutter, Bumpus terrorized me by sharing these photos. This is Sam, the World's Ugliest Dog. Sadly, Sam died in November 2005 (click here for the story). YO MAMA: Would Lulu like a friend like this?I had five spastic children (not counting Miss Thing here) in my house making ice cream sundaes while their parents attended a meeting about the school and how to spend all my tax money. The Goozie was feeling left out, so like a Good-Sister-to-Aunt-Choc, I just took that big ol' can of frozen non-dairy whipped topping and made a six-inch pile o' fluff in the middle of Goozie's tray. She had a damn fine time. This also gave me a chance to cope with the chaos by sneaking behind the shed and doing some jell-o shots.
Somebody in this photo is the BOSS and the other somebody is her dumbfounded, completely snookered servant...
...one island at a time.
Yo Mama, the boys love the game. Now we need some Bahama money to play it with...and maybe some coconut rum?
I think back to the Christmas card photo of the three of us...the one where my saggy diaper is hanging out and I have about 17 fat rolls both above AND below my knees?!? Who has fat rolls below their knees? Might have been those baby bottles full of pureed chili, beans, and rice...
She is all dressed up for her visit to the G-woman. We had a loverly tea party, including sandwiches, ginger cookies, and tiny little cups of ice cream. Check out the stylin' sandals...
The day before school shut down for its spring fumagation week, I was at THE DOLLAR STORE (where, according to Rufus, you go when you need to get some more dollars), and I bought a crossword puzzle book on the spur of the moment, one of those easy ones at the checkout stand. I had just watched this movie, Wordplay, and was thinking I would be smart enough to try a crossword, especially if I could peek at the answers in the back of the book. After buying the puzzle book, I went to the school to eat some dirt-sprinkled chili on the windy playground at Rufus' Cowboy Cookout Day. He left early with me, after the feast, and later, while we were waiting for Boudreaux-the-Studious-One to get out of school, Rufus found the crossword book. He opened it, grabbed a pencil, asked me how it worked, and immediately started trying to solve a puzzle. I though this was crazy. What kindergartener can do a crossword puzzle for adults? So I let him be. His mouth was shut.
We have been having orthodontal issues at our house.
First: Bumpus went to the dentist for a cleaning and checkup. After inspecting Bumpus's mouth, the dentist inquired as to how long Bumpus had been living with half of his front tooth missing. Bumpus did not know his front tooth was missing. A little spackle and some insurance took care of that issue for a while...until we have to deal with veneers or crowns.
Second: Brain Cell, the inhaler of all things food and barbituate, is a dental-issue-en-per-pee-tooooooooo-eaty.
Third: Rufus's top two front teeth were loose and loose and loose and this went on for weeks and weeks and weeks of wiggling and worrying and my recommendation on what foods to eat to get those suckers to finally break free. This got to the awful point where the top two teeth were sticking out frontwards, at odd angles, out of Rufus's mouth, from the pressure of his tongue pushing against them. The whole thing makes my skin crawl: teeth and clipped finger/toenails, two things with which I cannot deal. Just thinking of it makes me want to have a rigor.
Finally! One of Rufus's teeth fell out. The fairy came as expected. Then, the other tooth shifted, as it no longer had to share space with the other front tooth. Like me in the bed on a Saturday morning, that other tooth just shimmied right on over to the middle of the space. This then went on for two days, until the second tooth at last fell out. The new tooth was already very visible underneath it.
So these things are supposed to happen in three's...I should be paid up for a while.
I can't just leave well enough alone. This was my contribution to Rufus's 100th Day Toe Jamboree photo collection. That's permanent marker, and it is still on my toes. Yes, Mama, I am bathing. If I could sing, then I would re-enact a little Wagnerian Valhalla, these two, of course, being Brunhilde Toe and Siegmund Toe. They are known for their dancing.
We'd been sinnin' too much and decided to go to church, just in case...And besides, we needed a reason to dress the Goozie in her first ruffly tights and patent leather shoes. Yes, I know she is wearing white before Easter! We are very nuevo Euro psycho that way.
All we needed was a huge fluffy bow-bow on top of her head. She almost has enough hair to pin one in. Somehow Boudreaux is especially excited about this, which may be a worry all unto its own.
No, we are not going in kron-o-lodge-cal order...we're going in the order that they spew forth from my brain. Now we're back in the end of December some time. As I just mentioned--rememeber to read the posts bottom to top!--Santa brought board games. One of these is Deal or No Deal, the card game (no more electronics are allowed in this house).
So one evening, the boys and I decide we need a little high stakes gambling fix and we decide to get it out. Unpacking the box for the first time, Rufus removed the plastic-y stuff, opened the silver case, carefully took the decks of cards and set them on the table, and proceeded to stand silently pondering the packing remnants that were still in the case.
R: "We can't play this game."
F: "Why not?"
R: "We can't play it. It's not all here."
F: "Well, I'm sure it's all here. What's the problem?"
R: "WHERE ARE THE WOMEN?"
F: "Women? Who needs women? You've got me. I'm a woman."
R: "No, it's just not the same."
I think she bears a startling resemblence to the St. Paulie's girl.
From Boudreaux, who is on the road to RU:
"Girls have boobs, and boys have titties!"
Thank you, third grade.
We finally took that holy-cow-this-is-a-lot gift card to the Wally World and came home with a Leap Frog Musical Playground! And what did the girl child do when I sat her down in front of it? Why, she pulled herself up and started playing.
This was before she started crawling.
We're not quite cruising yet, but that could come any day.
Running around with no purpose, dancing in circles without music, contortions of the body that would give me a crick in my neck, and all sorts of behavior that make mothers and fathers want to get out the duct tape: these are all symptoms of the Christmas Crack disease.
One of my girl friends called me last week, and when she asked how we were, I replied, "Well, you know. The grownups are surviving, and the kids are fully overdosed on Christmas Crack." She did not think this was funny and actually sort of scolded me for not just recognizing that our precious little offspring are just full of the glory of God and the wild anticipation of our savior's birth, honey. I beg to differ. Only speaking for my own...my precious offspring are stoned on the sight of presents with their names on them and an endless stream of chocolates, cookies, and trips to see Santa.
Now, I have proof.
Below: Rufus exhibiting type-A Christmas Crack addiction behavior.
"Dear Santa: I have been a good boy exept I got in a bar fite. You should have seen the other guy. I want a Star Scream Soopreme for Christmas. Thank you very much."
The hoodlums stayed here, which meant that we got to spoil, spoil, spoil the Goozie girl.
Very fine escape.
Behold...
Within one hour, it became painfully apparent that Yertle here didn't know the difference between a heroic flying dragon fish and a side of beef. Fred was suddenly laying on the bottom of the tank with his long top fin chewed off. He was still alive but was obviously suffering, and I had been through five different types of food that Fred would not eat. Once he had tasted freedom, tropical flakes would not do.
So I said a little prayer to The Bob and sent Fred into the mouth of the Porcelain God.
The End.
Yo Mama feels lik she B living a-lone on the moon or somethin lik that. Where B my blog girls ... surely B sumthin N ur life worth sharin with me and all the resta them public figgers that look at our blog junk. Send me some stuff to git me cheering up.
Yo Mama seen this in a store and thot it the very thing for the Cat Crap family --- pretty and decorus and delivered a message, not jes on Sundays but ever day of the weak. I showed it to The Kaptain but he sez he ain't gonna have one of these at his castle.
Wunder if this B what Some Folks meen when they say they is talkin in tongues? Fatty, did U see summa this at ur Bahia meetins? Yo Mama hadn's had nuf spare time to look inna mirror and C iffin I cud do it. Let Rufus give it a try first and lemme no if it B in my genes.
Yo Mama willin 2 give it a whirl ....
Kaint believe most 100 years different in age, these 2. Prettie mazing, if you ask Yo Mama. But you didn't and that's o.k. cause I gonna jes keep yapping N-E way. Cute pikture. Bless 'em both.
Yo Mama luckie to have good genes, U B 2.
Whilst in Abilene TX, Yo Mama and Miz Rezer went shopping 4 a animal for her skoolroom and we seen this very well dressed animal with 4 legs. I wanted to get Miss Lucy some stomps but The Kaptin didn't much go 4 the idear. This animals mama said that doggie liked her shoes and didn't even try to git 'em off when they wuz bran new. Bet Lucy wood have them babies chewed up in 2 minutes.
Yo Mama lets Miss Lucy do whatever she want, anyway.
Yo Mama did her annual Mustang game and this cute lil big girl was bout the proudest thing I saw - jes lookit them flowers, she got 2 of em and I wonder who paid the bill. Don't matter, she B happy so I B happy 4 her. Bet the next a.m. she felt like Cinder-ella.
Yessiree, there she B at home, not even gradin papers or chewin nervusly on her hair. Miz Rezer has secret life thet few of us no bout and that is CATS. Yo Mama luvs cats too. Has them kitties gotten N E bigger?
Yo Mama is PLENTY PROUD of dauter #1 cause she finally dun finded herself, and ther she is 4 all to see, bein the leader of the voters of tomorrey. Wish I cud sit in the room and lern sum stuff myself, like meybe sum new recipes for boat cooks.
Yo Mama Luves You!
