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Showing posts from January 29, 2012

10 Things I'm Going To Do When I Grow Up And Get My Own Apartment

1. Enjoy crunchy, non-stale crackers because all food packages will be properly sealed according to the Pantry Re-entry System.

2. Buy new underwear since I no longer have to pay additional $150 surprise teen fees on my cell phone bill.

3. Block the Disney channel using the parental control system on my brand new television set. (My brand new television set that has all its buttons and does not have a permanent marker doodle in the left hand corner of the screen.) And I'm also blocking Nickelodeon.

4. Never, ever, ever put my hand in a crusty, grungy sock to turn it right-side-out in order to effectively wash the sucker. People who leave their balled up socks in my living room will not be allowed over to play.

5. Enjoy meals that include dishes like mashed potatoes with goat cheese and kale, or tandoori chicken or spicy black bean soup in the absence of whining.

6. Go to the bathroom. by. myself.

7. Read in silence. And actually recall what it was that I just read.

8. Walk barefo…

The One In Which I Realize The Very Real Possibility I May Be Completely Outwitted.

On December 1st, 2011, I retrieved a jar of treasured spaghetti sauce from my pantry and handed it to Big V with explicit instructions to put the remaining sauce in the refrigerator so it was not wasted. I then exited the residence confident in his compliance.

However, he did not put the jar in the fridge.

The freaking jar sat on my kitchen counter for days.... weeks, even... because we are both incredibly bull headed and stubborn, if not also incredibly cute.

On December 24th, 2011, as we prepared dinner for my parents, I noticed Big V had finally thrown the stupid, nasty, moldy jar of sauce away. And I had won.

Or so I thought.

Readers, I present to you January 28th, 2012:



It should be noted that in order to place the jar next to the bird seed in the garage one must walk past not one, not two, but three large garbage cans and two recycling bins.

When confronted with my discovery, Big V calmly pointed out that he never said he had actually thrown the jar away, that I had simply assu…

Three Kids and a Prancing, Dancing Cat

This weekend my sister and I gathered up some children and headed over to - you guessed it - THE YOUNG AUDITORIUM - to see the children's musical Seussical. (Don't worry, they were our children. It's not like we just grabbed at the supermarket.)

Alex, age 7, did not especially feel like going. I thought maybe he was going to say he was far too cool to sit around watching a prancing cat, but his honest explanation included the fact that there was no popcorn at the theater. You just had to sit there. And, uh, watch. 
I could totally see his point, because one time, I was craving movie theater popcorn so bad I insisted (perhaps also forced by threat of violence) that we please just stop and grab a large bag to go, sans actual movie watching. Turns out you can totally do that in most movie theaters around here, except for the bitty one behind Toys R Us where they force a ticket purchase before you can even enter the building, which I think is total bunk because that movie thea…