visitors hit the road
Bye Leslie, bye Eric. Thanks for visiting. We haven't found any of your possessions yet but give us a day or two and chances are we'll find something. Heck we found Cousin Brian's skull tee-shirt just yesterday. Boys who visit us shed items. Always. Always and always, say the three butterflies. (Rules are rules is the mosquito. I can't believe you don't remember that most excellent book.)
Leslie left behind a spiffy office chair, but that was on purpose. Crazy Girl Working Inc thanks her.
Yo, guys, next time take some of these boys with you. I'm sort of sick of the way they think they can keep talking to me and hanging around and saying "mom, watch this fabulous imitation of a vampire farting." or "mom, give me high five" when I'm trying to think or read porn or write my blog. I don't even bother with writing my own stories because hehehehehe we know what kind of stories CGWI creates. Or was it CWGI?
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Tomorrow we're talking about going to visit the four-inch-long, cute-as-anything-on-cuteoverload, eyes-still-closed baby squirrel that Logan brought us. It was a fun squeaky toy that still squeaked after I took it away from him. Yeah, that was me shouting drop it, you damned dog because holy crap, the boys ran downstairs, screaming, leaving me to deal with it.
question of the day: When do the boys turn to men who'll squish the bugs and save the squirrels, or at least deal with the wildlife?
When we called the police, they said "put it back outside" which wouldn't fly with the kids. Eventually, after three calls to vets, we begged and pleaded with the people at the nature center and they gave in.** When we left the squirrel, it was waving its paws in the air and had puppy milk dribbling down its chin. Takes them a while to get used to the bottle.
Oh my lord, boy2 is here giving me a hand-waving, mouth-whooshing imitation of a smoothly flushing toilet. Boy1 is demanding that he be allowed to watch the Red Sox. Now.
School starts September 4. I will have to reread this post when I get all pseudofauxempty-nesty.
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**We passed at least eight road-kill squirrels on the drive out there. I tried to explain the irony to boy3 who'd agreed to come along. He was too worried about Squirr-dawg, which was the baby squirrel's name.
Leslie left behind a spiffy office chair, but that was on purpose. Crazy Girl Working Inc thanks her.
Yo, guys, next time take some of these boys with you. I'm sort of sick of the way they think they can keep talking to me and hanging around and saying "mom, watch this fabulous imitation of a vampire farting." or "mom, give me high five" when I'm trying to think or read porn or write my blog. I don't even bother with writing my own stories because hehehehehe we know what kind of stories CGWI creates. Or was it CWGI?
* * * *
Tomorrow we're talking about going to visit the four-inch-long, cute-as-anything-on-cuteoverload, eyes-still-closed baby squirrel that Logan brought us. It was a fun squeaky toy that still squeaked after I took it away from him. Yeah, that was me shouting drop it, you damned dog because holy crap, the boys ran downstairs, screaming, leaving me to deal with it.
question of the day: When do the boys turn to men who'll squish the bugs and save the squirrels, or at least deal with the wildlife?
When we called the police, they said "put it back outside" which wouldn't fly with the kids. Eventually, after three calls to vets, we begged and pleaded with the people at the nature center and they gave in.** When we left the squirrel, it was waving its paws in the air and had puppy milk dribbling down its chin. Takes them a while to get used to the bottle.
Oh my lord, boy2 is here giving me a hand-waving, mouth-whooshing imitation of a smoothly flushing toilet. Boy1 is demanding that he be allowed to watch the Red Sox. Now.
School starts September 4. I will have to reread this post when I get all pseudofauxempty-nesty.
__________
**We passed at least eight road-kill squirrels on the drive out there. I tried to explain the irony to boy3 who'd agreed to come along. He was too worried about Squirr-dawg, which was the baby squirrel's name.
When do the boys turn to men who'll squish the bugs and save the squirrels, or at least deal with the wildlife?
ReplyDeleteAnswer? Never as long as they know someone else will do it. At least that's the status quo with my 20 and 17 year olds. Unless of course, it's to rescue the girlfriend...
Whoa. Hey. That toilet flush was purely accurate and in the interest of etombing a moment in hisotry to be better studied throgh the rich culture of pantomiming. And the vampire farting? Comedy GOLD.
ReplyDelete