My Secret Shame

I was readin vanbytheriver last night, which was a fun little read about birds and love. It struck me as funny-odd that she didn’t know the birds in question were mourning doves, but then I had to mention in a family of birders, I never had the opportunity to not know which birds were which.

My parents are bird people. It’s true. When I was young, particularly in my teens, they’d drive me to eye-rolling craziness with all their talk of birds. It’s one of those things that always made me feel like I didn’t belong. Who the fuck cares about birds? They’d sit there with their bird books and talk about birds for hours. They’d argue over identification. They’d theorize about migration patterns. I’d sit there and think omg if my life is ever so boring that i need to look to birds for entertainment, just take me out and shoot me.

It was alright that my grandmother watched birds, because she lived on a lake and spent all her time staring out the window, but she was like 80 or somethin, and there wasn’t a lot for her to do…
I’d have better things to do before 80, but then maybe I’d get so bored, I’d watch birds, too. To have my parents doing it, well, it was intolerable.

The sheer amount of excitement my mother displayed over a hummingbird come to feed, I mean really, Get a Life!

 

 
My mother woke me once, definitely before noon, to go out and see the whoojiwhatsit spotted-winged blarg outside. I mean, really, was it not bad enough to drag me out to the woods, away from MTV and telephones?!?
“Oh my God, MOM, no one cares!”

I mastered the basics when it comes to birds — you know, robins, cardinals, doves, that sorta thing — but I had no desire to classify them by types or learn about rarer ones.

Me reading about Darwin’s birds:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

dude, get out of the islands, you’re losin yer mind

 

 

One time, at our old Indianapolis home, circa The Baby Daze, hundreds of birds swooped in and took over our back yard as if Hitchcock had directed them to do so. At first it was neat. But the next day they were still there. It got weird and messy. It felt ominous. I couldn’t let the kids out. I called my mother to explain the horrors of nature come to roost in my metropolitan backyard.
You know what she asked me, right?
“What kinda birds?”

That moment you wish you’d paid attention.

birds1

Don’t you know Sissy had the same boring bird chats with my mother? Sissy didn’t think birds were boring at all, and so my mother had given her bird books. Sissy looked the birds up in her books and informed me they were tree swallows.

Moo’s the same. You ask me what kinda bird is in the tree, and I’m like, “Some sorta spotty finch-type thing,” and Moo’s all, “It’s the white-breasted nuthatch.”
(In truth, I know the white-breasted nuthatch, but I’m just sayin, she knows more than I do.)

 

 

Flash to me in Georgia, upset cause there were almost no birds around.
“Somethin wrong with this place. Ain’t no birds, nothin grows. God didn’t intend for people to live here, I tell ya!”
Then, gettin super excited when I saw birds I recognized! Mockingbirds and robins, mostly. But sometimes, somethin special in Savannah…
“Omaword! Look at all the wrens!” Y’all, I emptied a sleeve of crackers in the parking lot just to watch’em eat. It’s good for the children to have natural encounters, right?

 

Flash to me back home, watching MIL’s birds at the feeders, listening to learn as much as I could from her. But like, low-key interested…no big deal.
I totally didn’t care about the birds nesting in the wreath on the porch. I was not beside myself with glee, possessing nearly the awe of a child. I didn’t get giddy when I saw the babies had been born. Nah, not me. I have a life.

You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Just another thing in a long list of things taken for granted. Birds.

 

 
Now, at my own house, even though I’m not 80, I have squealed so loudly at a visiting hummingbird, I scared him off! I almost peed myself — he probably did, too.

I spend a great deal of time staring out my window.

view

 

 
Now and again, I grab the binoculars.
I feed the birds.
I try to get pictures of our cardinals.

cardinal.1

I stand feet from them, hoping they’ll let me look at them a little bit longer.
I listen to the songbirds.
Try to figure out which bird sings which song.
Noticing cardinals sound like R2D2…
Listen to warbler songs on YouTube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7LgVnI6v9M

I am only forty-three, and I enjoy the birds.

I say things to Sassy like, “Do you hear that? That’s a pileated woodpecker. Come see.”

I should be taken out and shot.

This is my secret shame.
My mother, she must be so proud.

 

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , , , | 94 Comments

Share Your World — March 20, 2017

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
I dunno, anywhere between five and infinity, depending? I don’t look my age, and I don’t often feel it. I am, at times, aware of limitations. I feel like an old soul, albeit an energetic one. I have trouble remembering how old I am, and how old other people are. Age is kinda weird. I think it’s because of the numbers.

 

So, you’re on your way out and it’s raining. Do you know where your umbrella is or do you frantically search for it all over your apartment/house?
My umbrella’s in my car. The girls took their umbrellas, so if it was raining hard, I’d put on a hat to get my umbrella. I seldom use my umbrella. I am not an umbrella person.

 

Do you recharge your energy by going out with friends for a good time or by spending with quiet time alone?
I recharge at home mostly, seldom in physical solitude. Green spaces can recharge me some, too.

 

Name three things you and your spouse, partner or best friend  to have in common.
Love of music, love of outdoors, love of travel.

 

Optional Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Much as I hated the pace of my busy week, I ran the full gamut of emotions, not the least of which was weeping with joy on several occasions. I am grateful The Mister didn’t have school and was available to daddy. I am grateful my kids have the opportunities they do. I am even more grateful Sassy gave witness to those opportunities. I am grateful I live in the city.

Now that it’s over, I am grateful I made it through. I am grateful I had most of the weekend to recuperate. I’d like to take the day off and spend it here on the sofa. Time will not stop for me.

17352235_10155141440298236_3822886014487006035_n

This week coming up shows a SPLENDIDLY BARREN CALENDAR! That should be enough to look forward to.

Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are welcome to join in and play along.

041514-sywbanner (1)

What’s going on in your world?

 

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , , , | 53 Comments

SoCS — This Woman is Done

Managed to get through the week.

Thought we’d never get to #ThursdayDoors and Thursday Kittens — thank you for the extras, eschudel. Thought we’d never get home last night.

Chose side effects over pain this week.
Manic pace. Dizzying. Demanding. So walk, how peoples, many schedule, too much drive. Overdose of stimulation.
I prefer logging into the outernet daily, briefly, as is my accustomed manner.

IMG_2692

 

Otherwise, I just like knowing there is there. You know, for my convenience.

 

IMG_2609

 

I grog. My eyes burn, my hands are shot. My feet still move faster than the rest of my family’s, on the basis of my marching mind. Must. Keep. Going. I was in command of my legs, at least, “Look at me walkin all fast!” I said when I saw myself in the door reflections today. My tired, my secret, no one can tell. I look human, I only feel like trash. I waited for the place to clear out before exiting. Couldn’t maneuver through the crowd.

When we were leavin home this mornin, Sassy suggested, “You lika take cookie?” and I said, “No, is too heavy.” I’d already spent my energy on brushing my teeth and my mangled mane, and it would be hours before I could lift a fork of mandatory eggs to my lips. A cookie would not do. Can’t take the crash. Only savory food can keep Joeys goin.

I’d say this is a middle-age introvert problem, but my lil extrovert is plumb tuckered out, too.
When it came time to order her chicken and dumplins today, the waitress asked her what two sides — Moo’s brain went blank.
“She would like green beans and baked apples,” I said. Moo’s face lit up briefly, but then her eyelids slid down as she plopped her weary head onto her sister’s shoulder. She’s snuggled up with The Mister in my throw, “Oh look, it fell on me,” she said.

Sassy felt stuffed with pancakes and had taken to her bed, or, as she would say — gone to her cave to snuggle herself. She was so sick from exhaustion on Thursday, I couldn’t send her to school. That day off must have helped significantly, because, if you can imagine, she’s playing her cello right now.

The Mister is also tired, which he will tell you is because he is an old man. The Mister has been an old man for as long as I can remember. He’s older than me, so I will never, ever be old like him. He says his brain is cloudy and his body feels numb. I know he’s tired because he drank two whole cups of coffee and suggested I buy two tiny, overpriced jars of Dickenson’s preserves today, in flavors he doesn’t even eat.
And he informed me, “The Fuel Fairy filled your car up.” How romantic! I may let that gentleman manhandle me. But not now.

We’re dormant now. We cannot be moved. We’re goin nowhere and the only person allowed to visit is Mr. Sandman.

Sadie is so happy her people are home. All week it was, “Puppy not go” and those big brown eyes.

You know you’ve had a big week when you think man it’s gonna be great when i can stay home and do laundry saturday night!

socs

Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘man’ is brought to you by LindaGHill

 

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 65 Comments

Funny Phone Fings

We all tease The Mister because he’s one of those people who types forever to say very little.
Are you familiar with THE BUBBLES?
iphone_typing_indicator_bubble_still.png.CROP.cq5dam_web_1280_1280_png

For a hundred years I stare at my phone, watchin the little bubbles dance. boy he must have a lot to say…

Okay? OKAY?!?

Y’all know these people, yeah?

text_long

My husband is those people.

 

I, too, like to forget to press Send and then wonder why the hell no one responds.

life-before-and-after-cell-phones-comic

BUT DID YOU PRESS SEND?

 

 

Mentor gave me her cell phone to answer while she was on an office line, but I don’t know how to press the right buttons on strange, alien, non-iPhone phones so I accidentally disconnected the call. I did figure out how to call back, but it was terrifying, and hysterical.

I. I was hysterical.

564

 

You have to read the FIRST name on your phone, because you can’t just say sexy things to any ol Mottern.

 

I locked up the office while on my phone. Then I stopped and did that thing where I panicked because my phone wasn’t in my purse, and wasn’t on my desk BECAUSE IT WAS IN MY HAND!

 

In the same vein, I did some calculations on my cell phone and then used my house phone to call and report the total, because I wasn’t sure where my cell phone was, since at that time, IT WAS OBVIOUSLY A CALCULATOR!

 

haha-so-funny-everytime-i-think-i-nuke-that-fucking-sofa-now_o_4236735

 

Best of all was I called home to tell Sassy to put the lasagna in the oven… I did say, “I love you,” but also, “If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to call.”

But OMFG, Press Send!

Happy Friday Everyone!

 

Posted in Random Musings | 69 Comments

#ThursdayDoors — A Night at the Symphony

Sassy was one of twelve students asked to play before the symphony’s performance last night. Those students played as people walked in. They provided intro music.
This particular night at the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra featured Student Side-By-Side. The best of the best high school students in Indy sat next to and played along with the pros. It was delightful!

But first, we had to get Sassy there.
We both had to leave work early.
Here I am, leaving work.

IMG_2709

I didn’t take the photo for y’all. The Mister asked me if I was okay. I didn’t IMMEDIATELY respond to his text, because four minutes late and getting into car.

Rush, rush, rush!

Home to collect the people.

I drove, because downtown. The Mister hates driving downtown.
Sassy said her teacher told them to enter via a back door. We could not find a back door. There was an alley. I could not imagine her teacher wanted them to walk down an alley, so I dropped The Mister off with her in case she really did need to go in through the alley. She did not.

This left Moo and me in the car, me searching for parking. Well, Pffft! free parking to walk to Monument Circle is basically NO PARKING ANYWHERE YOU EVER WANTED TO PARK, EVER. I pulled into a parking garage and a great panic came upon me, because I bout never park in parking garages, and to be honest, I am not comfortable with the whole process.
This anxiety didn’t leave any time too soon, either.

But I had Moo, and a goal, so we kept moving. First the elevator, then a vestibule, then through a courtyard, then into a lobby.

IMG_2713

That’s a lot of stuff. By this time, I was sure I was turned around and would never find the way back, but then, outside there was a street like a light at the end of the tunnel.

IMG_2711

 

I paused there a while, waiting for vertigo to subside, channeling moxie.

IMG_2712

Moo had worn the vintage Kenneth Coles she picked up at Goodwill. She’d been dying to wear them and finally had opportunity.
Cept… right about there is when we figured out why we’d found them in pristine condition. They aren’t actually meant to be worn. The toes had dug in, and red rings appeared across the top of Moo’s feet.

Once we were outside, I looked back to the building we exited from. 151 N Delaware. We braced one another against the cold wind and walked to the circle. Moo was sure that down Pennsylvania would be faster. I knew it wouldn’t be any faster, but that it would cut down on some of the wind.

I stopped for two doors. Dunno where. Was cold, anxious, worried about Moo’s feet.

IMG_2714IMG_2715IMG_2716

We met The Mister and went to Starbucks on the circle while Sassy rehearsed. Sat at a bar along the window, watched the peoples, drank the coffees, ate the cookies.
IMG_2721

Here’s a map of downtown Indy made of wire.

IMG_2717

Here are the doors to the Hilbert Circle Theatre.

IMG_2723

Inside, I mostly whirred with anxiety, because it was crowded and loud and pretty much any time I wasn’t in my seat, I was looking for, or waiting for, Sassy.

IMG_2730IMG_2729IMG_2728IMG_2725

Finally it was time for the music!
Of course, the symphony prohibits photos and videos of their performances, but I snapped this shot during intermission, and I think it provides the general gist of it.

IMG_2732

As I said — It was delightful!

After, we stood around talking and of course, waiting on Sassy.
Once we hit the street, Moo asked to take her shoes off.
So Family Tradition. My Moo — heart, heart.

No one was there to photograph us, but I’ll set the scene: It’s almost 30 degrees, the wind is rippin. A family of three walks briskly through the city streets. The mother and father are well-dressed. Father looks menacing, but carries a cello. Mother has a handbag looped over her arm so she can tote the shoes of her child and still hold her hand. The child is clad in a wool dress coat, and is naked from the knee down. (Remember, Moo doesn’t look 13, she looks 8.)
A surly teenager wearing jeans and Converse sneakers follows the family. She carries a bouquet of flowers and a backpack the size of Texas.

We were a sight.

People saw us. I saw them seeing us.

 

I parked off Delaware. 151 N Delaware. That’s two streets east of Meridian and then north a bit. But I didn’t remember a crucial element — Moo hadn’t wanted to walk a straight line, and so we did not walk back the same way we went. Darn that intrepid Moo. Nothing looked familiar. Of course, the sun had set, and everything looks different in the dark. We paused outside 200 N Delaware as I began to freakthefuckout about where the fuck the fucking parking garage was! I was definitely in a blind panic.

I pulled out my parking garage ticket and gave The Mister the name of the building. He searched. Siri said it was 283 miles away. Uh…
I said we should turn around, we’d somehow missed it.

It was then I became adamant about the 151-ness of Delaware, and enormous buildings do not disappear in an evening.
Oh The Irony of Me, who is always hounding the children about how NUMBERS IN ADDRESSES MEAN STUFF!
For instance, if you’re in front of 200 N Delaware, then 151 will be on THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. Or, in my case, laughing in the shadows behind my back.

Sometimes you  I need to calm down and think!

We got there. Oh yes indeed, we got there straight away.

It was 10 to 10 when we left the parking garage.
Not a lot of places open for the cold, hungry, tired Motterns to eat. Sassy suggested IHOP.

IMG_2733

#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link.

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , | 85 Comments

Still Thankful, Every Day

On this day four years ago, I arrived back home again, in Indiaaaaana!

Video for those of you who don’t get the reference…


It was a long journey, and a long-awaited one. You can read about it here.

petmob1

If you’ve been with me since Georgia, thank you.

I believe in quotes like, “Bloom where you’re planted” and “No matter where you go, there you are” but I also believe for me, climate and landscape are crucial to my well-being. I don’t want to say I need four seasons, but it’s a feeling similar to need, and when I didn’t have it, I pined for it.
The crunch of snow underfoot, the damp richness of dark soil under green grass, a cool breeze carrying cottonwood, FALL FUCKING FOLIAGE.

I reckon there are a number of people who can live anywhere and thrive. I am not one of those people. Even as a youngster, I could only imagine being happy in a place like home. You do this, yeah? You travel, and you say, “It’s nice for a while, but I wouldn’t wanna live here,” right?
But what if you looked at a place and said, “Ick!” and had to stay there for seven years? Would it render you desolate? Would it break you? Would it make you stronger?

If there’s anything I pine for more than my native landscape, it’s The Mister. And so I stayed.

I still thank God I’m home, every single day, often multiple times a day. I’m sure people are sick of my goin on about it —  but remember that — when people tell you somethin over and over, it’s because it’s important to them.

I still shed tears of gratitude. I will never forget how I felt as I crossed into Kentucky and smelled the wet grass and the wild onion. Home. Oh, Home. I cried so many times that day. My place, my people, my relief, my happiness. Cry tears of joy with me now? It’s a beautiful thing.

It’s good to be home.

 

I am never homesick now.

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , , , , , | 63 Comments

It’s Tuesday, and I’m a Slacker

Tuesdays are for complaining, yeah?

I feel like Share Your World highlights gratitude on Monday. Sometimes I write those posts through my teeth, because I really do wanna complain. Monday, bleh, blah, argle blargle, huff.

Gratitude is crucial when you want to live well. But venting is so much easier.

So Tuesdays I must feel free to complain. About petty shit.
Like, Photo a Day. There’s a lovely woman in the interwebz who hosts my Photo A Day Challenge dooji, which has connected me to some amazing Instagrammers, which has in turn, provided me with much entertainment and taught me a lot. But sometimes, I’m like…

“Uh. Nowa.”

Okay, yesterday was 13. horizon. “where the sky meets the land,” it read.
In my head, I was like, “Bitch, I live in the city. Ain’t drivin out to nowhere to capture the horizon.” I don’t even know how far I’d have to drive before the sky met the land and not trees? I wasn’t gonna try. Cause you know, Monday, bleh.
I considered pulling over at the side of the interstate to snap “where the sky meets the asphalt” but that seemed dangerous. I’m sure the Photo A Day community would tolerate a photo of a horizon hidden by structures, but could I give myself an A for that?

Oh, I see, the problem is mine.

The problem is also mine when I don’t want to leave the house to get a snap.

Not too long ago, the prompt was 8. fave part of my day. When I realized what the fave part of my day is, I decided the internet was NOT going to see that. If I tried to make it photo worthy, it would not be the fave part of my day. We’d need to wear shirts and turn on the lights, and I’d have to contort myself muchly to get the iPhone to see The Mister scratching my back as I lie across his hips. Other possible fave parts of my day are specifically not photographic. They’re the fave parts of my day because they’re feelings, not images.

insert photo of feelings here

Sometimes it’s a seasonal issue.
My particular Photo a Day is run from the other hemisphere. Do you know how hard it is to get photos like 22. leafy, 3. flower, 21. grow, and 25. grass in Indiana in the middle of January?

IMG_2705

Winter has me showin off my houseplants…Every. Year.

img_2328

Also, it seems my host is a morning person.
There are always prompts for morning things, and most of them are on weekends, and to that I say “Nowa” again. Actually, sometimes I laugh, because the prompt is “8am Sunday” and even when I drag my ass to church, I don’t rise at 8am on Sunday. I can’t think of anything that would be worth wakin at 8am on Sunday.
Last time she asked for 5. morning sky on a Saturday, she got Friday morning sky. Shh, don’t tell.

IMG_2703

Anyway, those are my petty complaints about photo challenges. I’ve done them for about three years and now I’ve begun skipping the ones that ARE an actual challenge for me. I’m a slacker now. A real whiner, too.

Feel free to vent. It is Tuesday after all

Posted in Personally | Tagged | 62 Comments

Share Your World — March 13, 2017

Do you push the elevator button more than once?  Do you really believe it makes the elevator faster?
No. But in college, I pushed the button again if the light on the panel went dim. My dorm elevator was wonky. It had a bad memory. I don’t know if it helped the elevator remember, but it helped me.

 

Do you plan out things usually or do you do them more spontaneous (for example if you are visiting a big city you don’t know?)
If I’m visiting a new city, I plan so that I have a place to sleep. I AM a planner, but I don’t like itineraries for play. Planned fun isn’t.

 

Describe yourself in at least four uplifting words.
insightful, hopeful, playful, creative

 

If you had a choice which would be your preference salt water beaches, fresh water lakes, ocean cruise, hot tub, ski resort or desert?
If I can have the salt water beach on a cool, cloudy day, I’ll take that. Otherwise, skiing sounds good.

Optional Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
I’m grateful for lots of downtime over the weekend, as well as a visit from some of my favorite people ever, and of course, carrot cake.

17155293_10155112741673236_5895470199401051600_n
I’ve got a busy, busy week ahead, virtually non-stop til Sunday. I’m looking forward to more time with The Mister, Moo’s choral competition, and the part when Sassy will perform before the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra — There will be Rachmaninoff, and we will dine out after.

041514-sywbanner (1)

Cee’s Share Your World is a weekly feature and all are welcome to join in and play along.

What’s going on in your world?

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , , | 57 Comments

SoCS — Short & Sweet

I spent the week shopping. Please remember I hate shopping. Shopping on weekends is the worst. There are so many people out there. So I did it on the weekdays. Cause I was livin like Old Mother Hubbard.
I made lists, one for the big store Tuesday, one for the shop Wednesday, one for the small store Thursday, and one for online store yesterday. I did this because I love myself and I have an extraordinarily full schedule next week, and if I had to shop on top of all that, I might would DIE.

Then, because I want to enjoy this weekend in a very my-sofa-needs me, my-husband-is-on-break, let’s-bake-another-carrot-cake kinda way, we went shoe shopping last night to cross it off the agenda. We bought all the new shoes. I love my new shoeses, but I am in no hurry to wear them.

Came home, cooked breakfast for dinner. Oh yes. Scrambled eggs, ham, blueberries, pineapple and toasts — and would you believe, after all that shopping, we are almost out of strawberry preserves?!? Well, I laid claim to the rest of that jar!

preserves

HEAR YE, HEAR YE, the rest of the strawberry preserves are belong to me!

socs

This weekend is short on strawberry preserves and long on time.
And I am short.
And short-tempered.
And I don’t wear shorts.
Anyway, I gotta go.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘short’ is brought to you by LindaGHill

 

Posted in Random Musings | Tagged , | 55 Comments

The Sound of Headphones

I freakin hate when kids get to that stage where they live in headphones. I do. I know it’s the norm and that they have to have their music and their video chats. I know that it saves me from all kindsa ‘Kill Your Parents’ music, jacksepticeye, and the sound of teenage girls squealing en masse, but sometimes I would just like to speak at standard volume and say things like, “I can hear your kettle boiling,” because when I scream, “KETTLE’S BOILING!” it sounds like I’m mad about it and makes me feel like I, too, should partake in tea time.

The girls got some big headphones with their holiday cash. When they wear those in my presence, I can at least see they’re wearing them and speak louder.
Or, The Mister and I can speak softly and say naughty things UNTIL THE CHILD TURNS TO US IN DISGUST AND SAYS, “EW!”

Usually, they wear the earbuds, and then I can’t tell. I don’t know. And they do it in their rooms sometimes, which I don’t understand, because we don’t care if they listen to stuff in their rooms, but I do know that we’re sick of WHY NOBODY COMES WHEN WE CALL?!?

Headphones_comics

I shout from the living room, “Mooooooo! Phoooone!”

The Mister barks, “Moo Mae Mottern!”

“Sassy, yell to her.”
Sassy hollers into the register, “Moooo! Phoooone!”
Moo runs to the living room, “Did you call for me?”
“Phone.”
“Sorry, I had my headphones on.”
of course you did

 

Walk into the kitchen like, “Moo, did the cats get dinner?”
Seems Moo is entranced by dishwashing. It can be zen like that…
“Moo?”
omg invasion of the body snatchers
“Moo!”
*taps child on shoulder*
Moo jumps, clutches sponge to chest, pulls out an earbud “Oh my God, Mama, you scared me!”
me? i thought she’d turn around with glossy black eyes

 

Sassy’s not much better.
I sometimes talka Sassy for a long time before I realize she can’t hear me.

“I guess we need to go feed Casey. I didn’t know Mamaw and Papaw were even gone. Daddy said he’ll pick us up and we can get coffee on the way. I’ll take the dog out. Get dressed and tell your sister.”

“Sass?”
*looks at me and smiles*
“SASSY!”
*pushes pause*

“Get dressed. Tell Moo to dress.”
“Okies. Why?”
“We gotta go feed Casey.”
“I didn’t know Mamaw and Papaw were gone.”

…Ten Minutes Later…

“Are we goin?”
“When Daddy gets home.”
“Ooh! Maybe we can get coffee!”

This week Sassy told me that one of her teachers yanked her earbud out. Sassy said, I quote, “Yeah, it’d be rude to listen to music while she teaches, but we were testing. It’s not like Lady Gaga is singin out answers.”

bacc9cea57245beb977aa18cc2c540cc

 

Sometimes I warn them about situational awareness. Okay, they would say I nag them a lot about situational awareness. If they don’t even know I’m in the room and they can’t hear me talking to them, how can they claim they’re aware of danger?

B8tyeRECEAAZOk2

 

You should know what’s goin on around you.
You don’t have to know what’s goin on in other rooms, but the smoke alarm shouldn’t be what informs you the soup is hot, which happens when you put on headphones and forget about the soup.
I tend my soups, thank you very much.

Bubba be all, “Does anyone have food?!? I’m dying!”
I yell out, “I’m cookin!”
He yells back, “Thank you!”
bout goddamn time someone thank me. fuck.
“You’re welcome!”

Y’all, he not talka me. He talka invisible game people in his headset.

life-as-a-gamer-dog_o_2692793

Then Moo runs in, “Did you call for me?”

Happy Friday Everyone!

 

Posted in Personally | Tagged , , , | 74 Comments