Friday, May 24, 2013
I am jealous of my 8-year-old's life!
Mom: So, what did you do today?
Emerson: "Wull, I won four awards at school, because I am like a PRO at that, and then we went to tha store, then we went to tha ribber, and I climbed aaaaaalll ober da waterfalls and dunked in tha wadder, an' I fell down and made a AWESOME bruise on my knee, and now I'm lyin' on tha couch eating French cheese, naked."
Her life is EPIC.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Imaginary friends are the best kind
Alice: "You doing anything tomorrow night?"Me: "I might manually declaw my cat. Why?"
Alice: "Want to come to my book club?"
Me: "Sure. What book should I pretend to have read?"
Alice: "'Run,' by Ann Patchett."
Me: "Cool. I need to do more pretend reading."
Friday, May 17, 2013
The Homeless Man in My Attic - A True Story
So, last night, I went to wake Emerson as part of the new no-bed-wetting ritual. It was 2 a.m., and she was like a furious bunny, hopping around in anger. That was fun.
Between her and the now-excited cat, I was wide awake. So I started to go downstairs... only to notice that the attic light was on.
I haven't been up in the attic in weeks. In fact, I've only been up there once since we moved in.
Holy shit. Someone was living in our attic.
I'd heard some weird stomping footsteps a couple of times this last week. I figured it was the cat - except earlier yesterday evening, when I heard them again and both Emerson and the cat were snugggled up against me. Then I figured it was our new neighbors.
Just then, I realized what happened. One day in December, we came home and found the back door open. I called the police, who examined the house and gave us the all clear. But someone HAD gotten into the house. And when we showed up, they hid in the only place they knew: the attic.
Since we never go up there, it's been a good hiding place for that person. A lot of little things have gone missing around the house the last couple of months. A dollar. A steak knife. A container of leftovers I could never locate. Now, it all made sense.
I was too scared to go up there, and didn't know how to call the police and say, "I'm afraid, because my attic light is on. Can you come check it?"
So I sat on the top step ALL NIGHT, with my new battery-operated weed whacker, keeping watch. You know. In case of crabgrass. Whatever. It's the only thing even close to a weapon that I own.
When it was light, and Emerson complained of a sore throat, I made a production of leaving very loudly.
"Let's go, Emerson. The doctor's office will take AT LEAST TWO HOURS!!!!! THEN WE'LL BE HOME AGAIN, AAAAALL DAY!"
Emerson winced at me. "Why you yelleeend, mama?"
I figured, if he hasn't killed us yet, he's just camping out up there. I'll give him a chance to leave, then change the locks so he can't get in again.
And when we got back (she had strep, BTW), I made a big production of putting the Christmas decorations into the attic VERY LOUDLY. "WE ONLY USE THEM ONCE A YEAR, SO THEY'RE JUST TAKING UP CLOSET SPACE, EMERSON."
Of course, Emerson totally didn't give a crap.
Finally, I opened the attic steps. The light glared down at me. But no homeless-man-smell followed. Of course, he could have been using my shower all this time... but when I peeked up over the flooring, no homeless man.
The light was still on. I couldn't find a switch.
"Emerson....? Do you remember where the light switch is for the attic....?" I yelled down to her. She was the one who had so gleefully explored the tall storage space last time.
"Oh, yeah, mama, iss right der." She pounded up the stairs from the kitchen... and flipped the switch on the plate in the hallway by her door. The one for which I could never figure out the purpose. Ugh. Must have flipped it by mistake.
I'm going to need someone to come by the house and deliver my good sense. I seem to have left it somewhere.
Between her and the now-excited cat, I was wide awake. So I started to go downstairs... only to notice that the attic light was on.
I haven't been up in the attic in weeks. In fact, I've only been up there once since we moved in.
Holy shit. Someone was living in our attic.
I'd heard some weird stomping footsteps a couple of times this last week. I figured it was the cat - except earlier yesterday evening, when I heard them again and both Emerson and the cat were snugggled up against me. Then I figured it was our new neighbors.
Just then, I realized what happened. One day in December, we came home and found the back door open. I called the police, who examined the house and gave us the all clear. But someone HAD gotten into the house. And when we showed up, they hid in the only place they knew: the attic.
Since we never go up there, it's been a good hiding place for that person. A lot of little things have gone missing around the house the last couple of months. A dollar. A steak knife. A container of leftovers I could never locate. Now, it all made sense.
I was too scared to go up there, and didn't know how to call the police and say, "I'm afraid, because my attic light is on. Can you come check it?"
So I sat on the top step ALL NIGHT, with my new battery-operated weed whacker, keeping watch. You know. In case of crabgrass. Whatever. It's the only thing even close to a weapon that I own.
When it was light, and Emerson complained of a sore throat, I made a production of leaving very loudly.
"Let's go, Emerson. The doctor's office will take AT LEAST TWO HOURS!!!!! THEN WE'LL BE HOME AGAIN, AAAAALL DAY!"
Emerson winced at me. "Why you yelleeend, mama?"
I figured, if he hasn't killed us yet, he's just camping out up there. I'll give him a chance to leave, then change the locks so he can't get in again.
And when we got back (she had strep, BTW), I made a big production of putting the Christmas decorations into the attic VERY LOUDLY. "WE ONLY USE THEM ONCE A YEAR, SO THEY'RE JUST TAKING UP CLOSET SPACE, EMERSON."
Of course, Emerson totally didn't give a crap.
Finally, I opened the attic steps. The light glared down at me. But no homeless-man-smell followed. Of course, he could have been using my shower all this time... but when I peeked up over the flooring, no homeless man.
The light was still on. I couldn't find a switch.
"Emerson....? Do you remember where the light switch is for the attic....?" I yelled down to her. She was the one who had so gleefully explored the tall storage space last time.
"Oh, yeah, mama, iss right der." She pounded up the stairs from the kitchen... and flipped the switch on the plate in the hallway by her door. The one for which I could never figure out the purpose. Ugh. Must have flipped it by mistake.
I still don't know where that missing stuff went. And last night, I
came home and the electrical breaker box door was open. So now I think there's a homeless man living in MY CLOSET.
I'm going to need someone to come by the house and deliver my good sense. I seem to have left it somewhere.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The colonies are quite rowdy today
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
Re: England is pissing me off
I do not understand how your counties and stuff are put together. What is an "ex," and why are there esses and wesses of them? And what's the difference between a shire and borough and a hampton and a cester? Which one has real hobbits? Why aren't your media outlets set up around population centers, and instead seem to report on areas based on historical borderlines long gone?
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
Oh my gosh, it is so simple! The shires are all over the place, the country is overrun by hobbits and all anyone ever does is sit around, drink tea and fight the Germans. Doesn't matter what anything is called, since the Tories are making a pig's ear of it all anyhow.
Don't know about media outlets - historical borders still exist, so I'm not sure. Only difference is the people in chain mail and similar fighting garb tend to be there only for reenactments as opposed to actually defending the land.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
I love that phrase, "making a pig's ear!" You're the only other person I've ever known who uses it! We are meant to be bosom friends! Wait... that's Anne of Greene Gables, who is Canadian. Oh, you foreigners all look alike!
I'm working on a graphic showing how our metros dovetail with media metros there. Only I have NO IDEA. Because I don't know who is reading publications in the Lake District and the Peak Life District, since no one seems to actually live there.
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
You can fit 40 UK's into the US so we don't need major "defined population centres." UK only switched entirely to digital in 2011; prior to that there were only 5 terrestrial channels. TV here is still dominated by BBC, who still dominate the radio channels, too. Of course, none of that matters now with the internet as EVERYWHERE is INSTANTLY connected on any medium.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
That DOES help! Thank you, the size difference really puts it into perspective.
Um, also, y'all need to get some more land space. Why did you stop invading and colonizing other places? How come America has to do this for you, now?
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
I think we ran out of money - and need - and tea - shortage of tea was always a problem but then India/China/Africa said they'd just sail it over, rather than us having to go to the trouble of taking it ourselves.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
Well, that was nice of them. Let us know if they give you any trouble. We'll go free them from tyranny.
To: British Beauty
Re: England is pissing me off
I do not understand how your counties and stuff are put together. What is an "ex," and why are there esses and wesses of them? And what's the difference between a shire and borough and a hampton and a cester? Which one has real hobbits? Why aren't your media outlets set up around population centers, and instead seem to report on areas based on historical borderlines long gone?
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
Oh my gosh, it is so simple! The shires are all over the place, the country is overrun by hobbits and all anyone ever does is sit around, drink tea and fight the Germans. Doesn't matter what anything is called, since the Tories are making a pig's ear of it all anyhow.
Don't know about media outlets - historical borders still exist, so I'm not sure. Only difference is the people in chain mail and similar fighting garb tend to be there only for reenactments as opposed to actually defending the land.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
I love that phrase, "making a pig's ear!" You're the only other person I've ever known who uses it! We are meant to be bosom friends! Wait... that's Anne of Greene Gables, who is Canadian. Oh, you foreigners all look alike!
I'm working on a graphic showing how our metros dovetail with media metros there. Only I have NO IDEA. Because I don't know who is reading publications in the Lake District and the Peak Life District, since no one seems to actually live there.
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
You can fit 40 UK's into the US so we don't need major "defined population centres." UK only switched entirely to digital in 2011; prior to that there were only 5 terrestrial channels. TV here is still dominated by BBC, who still dominate the radio channels, too. Of course, none of that matters now with the internet as EVERYWHERE is INSTANTLY connected on any medium.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
That DOES help! Thank you, the size difference really puts it into perspective.
Um, also, y'all need to get some more land space. Why did you stop invading and colonizing other places? How come America has to do this for you, now?
From: British Beauty
To: Stupid American
I think we ran out of money - and need - and tea - shortage of tea was always a problem but then India/China/Africa said they'd just sail it over, rather than us having to go to the trouble of taking it ourselves.
From: Stupid American
To: British Beauty
Well, that was nice of them. Let us know if they give you any trouble. We'll go free them from tyranny.
