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Showing posts from October 10, 2010

Fearing Nutella: The Truth Behind The Panic

I may have mentioned that I have never tried Nutella. After which 417 of my closest facebook friends posted I was missing out on the best food invention the world has ever created. Essentially, they said, Nutella can be used anywhere on anything at anytime. In fact, it was so delicious that I could just grab a heaping spoonful and eat it as is.

But I'm not buying it. And here's why....

Nutella, meet Vegemite.


They are eerily similar in color and consistency.


They both get spread on toast.


I've tasted Vegemite before... and I refuse to be suckered into letting anything that remotely resembles that yeasty spread touch my tastebuds ever again.

Going Mad!

"I want to complain about my neighbor. He's building a fence out of trees."

Trees?

"Yes. He's just going around his yard randomly chopping down trees - and parts of trees - and he's creating a fence barrier between his property and mine. He's pulling up tree roots and all sorts of things and just creating this big pile - this, this - well, it's ugly. And he's putting up horrible, nasty signs - signs that say things like private property and keep out and I know they're meant for me because you can't see them from the road, only I can see them from my back yard. He also has a camera trained on me. I think that's an invasion of privacy. Can he have a camera directed at my back yard? You know, he lost a lawsuit to me a couple years ago and now he's just gone mad."

Yet another reason why I insist on buying 100 acres of land and putting my house smack dab in the middle.

Those That Came Back

My mom ran over our cat with her truck. This happened a long time ago when we were little. She was backing up and ran over our big, fat cat, Carmel. I ran over a squirrel once and can only imagine the feeling beneath the floor of the vehicle. Gross. To be fair my mom didn't do it on purpose - it was an accident. It just happened. We lived with lots of animals always under foot. Or under vehicle tires. So it was possible, and also probable, that running over a cat would potentially, someday, more than likely, actually happen.

I suppose the miners in Chile weren't exactly stunned at the collapse. They knew it might, probably, someday happen. Maybe not to them, but still.

Our cat limped off, crooked, bleeding, screaming into the pasture, out to the field and into the unknown. Days passed. We tried to convince ourselves maybe it wasn't that bad. We went out to look for her but found nothing. We told ourselves if we just kept looking we would find her and then we could help her…

The Bean Visits the Doctor.

I took the Bean to the doctor today because she found a bump and wanted me to touch it but there was no way I was doing that because (1) I had no idea if that thing was contagious and (2) that's just gross. She's at that awkward age where she's kind of too old for me to go in the exam room with her, but also too young to be trusted to sit in there by herself, because snooping through all the drawers and cabinets and taking cell phone photos of herself with tongue depressors in her nose is just far too tempting. So we waited together in the same exam room trying to be all hey, this is just like hanging out at Starbucks together. Except not all of us is fully dressed.

I figured it was as good as time as any to ask what the disgusting pile of gunk was she left in the bathroom sink this morning before school. She has a habit of squeezing far too much toothpaste on her toothbrush and leaves a giant wad of paste in the sink every. blasted. day. But today, in addition to the past…

Does V know?

From time to time someone will run up to me all wide-eyed after reading a blog post and blurt out something along the lines of aren't you afraid Big V will kill you if he ever finds out you write all about him in your blog? To which I usually respond by looking at them with my eyes all squinty and my forehead all wrinkly wondering what the hell kind of relationship they have with their spouse that they think it's normal to hide something of this magnitude from their spouse. I admit I hid the occasional bag of M&Ms (which he always seems to find) but, um, yeah, I'm making a permanent record. That's public. On the world wide web. Of course he knows I have this, write on, and pimp out parts of our relationship for the sake of a laugh, or the sake of my sanity. One of my favorite things to do in the whole world is run up, grab him by the arm and lead him to the closest chair, you have got to hear what I wrote today! Nine times out of ten he laughs, shakes his head, and…

All In The Family

Last night Dotter went to play with her cousin, A, which is my brother's daughter. She lives about an hour away so we're at the mercy of her visitation schedule. When she's here it's a pretty big deal. She's a spunky little ten-year old who is smart, quick witted and very imaginative. She studies hard and loves school. And she likes to write. That makes her super cool in my book. The irony that she may be the smartest grandchild born to the least intelligent of us siblings is not lost on me. But what my brother lacks in intelligence he makes up for in psychological mischievousness.

I'm picking up Dotter after their play date and giving my brother a hard time because he hurt his foot wrestling one of his friends on a trampoline and now he's all hopped up on vicodin and trying to maneuver on crutches.

"You need to tell your Dad he's too old to wrestle around like that," I tease A.

"Old?" He says, "You're older than me!"