OK. Now my friends are predicting some necrotizing bacteria is going to opportunistically swoop in and digest my feet through my ant wounds. Just in time for Halloween. Cool.
A little nursery rhyme to celebrate Thursday:
Everybody goes to school today, hurrah hurrah.
Send 'em off and let 'em play, hurrah, hurrah.
Send 'em off then come back here, listen to the silence, dear.
It's time I had some time alone, let them go and then come home
They all go off to school today.
What the heck happened to this week? Next week proves to be the same. I thought that after school was in session for a while, things would settle into a nice routine. So far, the routine has been general insanity.
Yesterday, the vet told us that Clooney should be neutered (duh) and needs to have a tooth pulled while he's under anesthetic. Can you imagine the social consequences of neutering George Clooney?
Anyway, I feel bad for the dog: ooh, ooh, vet. They give cookies! Ooh, ooh. What's that needle? Ow. Oh, sleepy...sleepy...sleepy. Wake up. Hey, strange nap. I dreamed...holy crap! They ARE gone! And so is that tooth...weird. I don't think I want to come back here...
Yes, you did just read my interpretation of a neutering procedure as seen through the eyes of the canine patient.
Things haven't gotten any less stupid around here, apparently.
I am trying desperately to avoid the subject of politics here in my public space. Thankfully, the last debate was last night, and as thoughtfully observed by many pundits, people in the crucial state of Pennsylvania were unlikely to be watching. With you know, BASEBALL on. So, I am on countdown and thinking that 20 days is a LONG time. I've heard about the Bradley Effect. I've heard about what people will do when they get into the polling closet and no one is looking over their shoulders. Will they be able to vote for a black man? My question is, will they EVER get to vote? Is this ever going to end? What if my candidate dies of exhaustion the day after the election? By the way, I hated the format of last night's debates. The table was too high for John McCain and he looked like a little kid at the dinner table. The whole thing bugged me. How can anyone sit down at a table with someone they WORK with and say things that are so inflammatory? I couldn't sit down with some one I work with and say, hey, listen. I'd rather you quit hanging out with terrorists. Kay? Now, let's go grab some lunch.
Speaking of lunch, the highlight of mine with S at the Chinese restaurant buffet: Lady at the table next to me leans over, and says, "you have a beautiful son. His eyes are beautiful." Then, eyes widening a bit, she says, "but does he talk like that ALL the time?" Oh, yes, lady. HE NEVER SHUTS IT! I have passers by pitying me for the constant diarrheal flow of verbiage from my kid's mouth. It's like spending a day with Jack Kerouac...complete wild word association. "Ooh. Noodles and fried rice. I love fried rice. Where does rice come from? (no pause for answer) Rice is nice. That rhymes. I love to rhyme. I rhyme all the time! That's funny. That rhymes too. When are we going back to school? Can we do a craft today? I like to paint. Paint and Play-dough are messy. Messy is yucky. Noodles are messy. Fried rice is messy. Look, I mixed rice, noodles and soy sauce for you. What is this yellow stuff? It smells spicy. You like spicy. Do you want to eat this yellow stuff? I will put it in this bowl for you with the rice, noodles and soy sauce. E does not like soy sauce. What time do we pick up E? Can I take off my seat belt in carpool line? (Pause) MOM! I asked you a question. Why are you ignoring me?"
That bit about S was funny. I remember when E took 4 1/2 years to have a meaningful conversation and I thought, "What i would give to have a kid who could talk...I would not complain." Wrong! G started talking at birth and hasn't shut up since and I can't believe how quickly it can get absolutely irritating, but in a good way. Good thing he's so cute. S too. How's the necrotizing fasciitis coming along?
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