Friday, December 31, 2010

2010 Reading List

I wanted to do a best book of the year wrap-up post about all of the books I read this year and which were best and why but all of a sudden there's only hours left of 2010 and I have things to do.

So, without much fanfare, I'm going to say that The Art of Racing in the Rainwas by far the best book I read this year (and you can see the full list in my side bar). It was a clever, beautifully written, witty, poignant (I rarely use that word; I'm being serious here, people) story that I never wanted to read in the first place. My hairdresser told me about it and I thought it sounded dumb, I read the description and I thought it sounded dumb, I downloaded it from the library onto my Nook one day and couldn't pull myself away. It made me laugh and cry and think in good ways.

I LOVED this book. I didn't like this book, I LOVED this book and I wish I could make every single one of you read it.

I also really liked The Help When I started it, I thought it was going to be cheesy and gimmicky with the Southern dialect and going back and forth between characters but it was well written, enjoyable and important. It would have gotten 2nd place on my 2010 list that will never be.

Most important book I read this year was Zeitoun It's a true story that I can't believe we all don't already know.

My least favorite book was probably Between the Assassinations I thought it was boring and didn't really go anywhere.

And that's our 2010 Reading List Wrap Up.

I hope you all have a Happy New Year!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Christmas Story

I don't know what little kid did to piss off the Baby Jesus, but he got the stomach flu for Christmas. It was one of the most pathetic sights I'd ever seen; he plodded out to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, took in the miraculous sight of all of those presents....and fell on his knees and started dry heaving and gagging. And then he barfed. Poor guy had to open up his gifts with a puke bucket next to him.

Regardless, it was a magical Christmas.

Around 5:30 a.m. I heard thumps, scraping and paper crinkling from the family room. Certain that Big Kid had woken up and was investigating or the grinch himself had come to steal Christmas (because a feverish little kid was next to me in bed speaking in tongues about Santa, so I knew it wasn't him), I got up and crept out of my room.

There was Big Kid, lit softly from the glow of the Christmas lights, looking impossibly tall in his new pajamas and holding a plastic grocery bag full of his own carefully wrapped gifts that he was thoughtfully arranging under the tree. He turned and saw me, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed with excitement and motioned toward the Christmas tree full of gifts, telling me that Santa had already come and that he couldn't believe he had forgotten to put his gifts to us under the tree the night before.

I think it will go down in history as one of my favorite Christmas memories; that among all of those brightly wrapped new things for him, he was thinking about his gifts to us and was excited to contribute to the pile of presents.

I forced him to go back to bed with me but after 5 minutes of him rigidly lying next to me and disturbing the quiet with his occasional excited whisper, I told him to go lie on the couch and read something from his stocking for 20 minutes or so and then to get back into bed. He scampered off happily.

I woke again an hour later, noticing that he was not back in bed and found him stuck in a kitchen bar stool.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm stuck in this bar stool. But read this stuff Harold left!" he answered, waving excitedly to our elf satisfaction survey, behavior summary report and the note on the kitchen island in front of him.

"You're stuck??" I tried to tug on him from behind but he was indeed stuck. "How long have you been stuck?"

"Ah, 5 minutes, maybe? But read the stuff, mom!"

"Were you going to call for me? I feel bad that you're stuck."

"I was going to call for you, but later. I know you're tired. Read the stuff." It took some wriggling and pulling but I did manage to free him from the bar stool and kept him quiet for one more hour until it was a reasonable time for present opening (if you can call 7:30am a reasonable time for present opening).

The kids loved their gifts; even poor little kid who stayed curled up on the couch, too sick to play with any of his toys. At one point he told me, "When I think of the presents you got for me, it makes me feel warm in my heart." That made me feel so warm in my heart. It made the sub-human conditions at Toys R Us worth all of the trouble.

They were also extremely proud of what they had gotten me. Big Kid bought me a singing snowman figure and a clip-on light.

"This will be perfect for my Nook!" I exclaimed over the light.

"Oh, I didn't even think of that! I saw you could clip it to your clothes or your car visor and I thought you could use that to have light wherever you went but it would be good for your Nook too!"  (To his future spouse--I apologize for the practical presents in your future.)

little kid bought me a set of soap and lip gloss and swoons over how pretty I smell every time I get out of the shower, pumping me for information on how enjoyable the shower was and if it was the soap he bought that made it so wonderful.

They are grateful and generous little souls.

There was brief sadness over Harold's departure but he left a note that said:

"Love you guys lots, but it's time to go. Don't forget about me and have fun in the snow. A Merry Christmas to you, all smiles, no tears, and please do not worry for I'll be back next year! (Like it or not, mom!) Laughter and Love, Harold Hubert Piggybottom."

Big Kid was relieved to hear he'd be returning. He had left Santa a note that said:

Dear Santa,
Thank you for bringing Harold. I really had fun with him. Can you keep me a promise??? Please bring Harold back next year. I liked Harold.

Big Kid

P.S. Don't spank Harold for the potty jokes. 

and yesterday wrote Harold a note that said:

Dear Harold,

I hope you have a good new year. I will always remember December 1st, 2010.

Your Harold Liker,
Big Kid

P.S. I'm liking that marble set.

Big Kid rated Harold a 3 out of 5 on the elf satisfaction survey. He may love Harold, but won't rate him more than average. His sense of honesty just won't allow it.

Harold did leave them a marble run set (120 pieces--thanks a freaking lot, Harold!) and a big pile of snow. Pretty magical for Florida kids:
 On Harold's last days, he:
 Drove the pedal car.
 Sent a personalized message from Santa.
 Watched a movie called "Elf Bowling"
 Covered the tree in new underwear. 
and wore a Christmas sweater for Christmas Eve. He looks good, doesn't he?

And Christmas in my Christmas-crazy neighborhood? Was breathtakingly magical. Everyone lined the streets with luminaries and there was singing, and outdoor fires (not from the luminaries, fun and safe outdoor fires that were there on purpose), and even a 10 piece brass band. It made me understand why they are all so Christmas-crazy. 

And that concludes Christmas. 

Although it was magical, I'm kind of glad that it's over.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas Donkey

Here is my Christmas donkey: 

Yes, seriously. He was way cuter than the Baby Jesus or any of the supporting cast. He was also amazingly well behaved and didn't do the donkey dance he invented to combat the boredom he felt when other people sang. I personally thought the donkey dance was funny and was hoping to see it but he did the right thing and that's what counts. I guess.

Here he is with his manager/security guy, who was pretty darn proud and who presented him with a donkey Webkinz. 

The show was total uncontrolled chaos, by the way, and the pastor managed to convince me that I'm doing the right thing by not going to church each Sunday.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

2nd Grade Love

Big Kid and Mr. Ashley were in the other room when I heard, "Dad? A girl in my class fell in love with me 'cuz I was wearing a black and white shirt. Is that possible?"

"Anything's possible with girls!" Mr. Ashley answered, "That sounds about right."

"Who fell in love with you?" I shouted from the  bedroom.

He appeared in my door way. "Ava. She just really likes black and white shirts, I guess."

"And what do you think about that?" I asked, inwardly cringing because Ava is NOT future daughter-in-law material. She is one of the few who doesn't give a crap about her time tests and is really not Big Kid's type.

He took a moment to ponder that. "I think it's...strange? To love someone for their shirt? And now do I keep wearin' that shirt or stop wearin' that shirt? I just don't know."

"Well, you do look really good in that shirt."

"Yeah...I don't understand how girls fall in love though."

And you never will, I wanted to answer.

But I'll let him discover that mystery for himself.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Harold Hubert Piggybottom Days 13-19

So, Harold Hubert Piggybottom is still with us. We're getting down to the last week of his visit and there is some major anxiety about his departure. I have made sure the kids know that if we're excessively sad about him leaving, we may not be chosen to host an elf next year--so we better not be crying on Christmas morning about the elf going home. (I didn't predict this being a problem...but now I know.)

Anyway, Harold has:

Brushed his teeth in their bathroom. 

Gone horseback riding.

Stuffed himself into the Christmas village bridge to watch the snowman. 

Climbed our globe to see the North Pole. 

Had some cookies and milk. 
(Big Kid was a little irked that he had helped himself to cookies but I thought we should let it go since he is our guest and we don't ever feed him.)

Hung from the kitchen lights. 
(Hey, he can't come up with some creative tableau each and every night of the holiday season, sometimes hanging around is enough.)

And this morning he brought us a Peanuts nativity. We were all pretty excited about this because we love Charlie Brown.

In other Christmas related news, a friend drove through our community to see the lights and said neighbors of mine were dressed as elves in their front yard, with their elf children dancing around a fire. The traffic is completely insane right now and it sounds like a block party every single night with shouted Merry Christmases and caroling.

I told you these people were really crazy about Christmas!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Harold Hubert Piggybottom: Days 4-12

I'm sorry I fell off the wagon in reporting Harold Hubert Piggybottom the Christmas elf's shenanigans. He's been quite busy; in fact, I think he's starting to look a little bit tired. I bet next year the Christmas elves get dispatched much closer to Christmas--it's a long time to be away from home and so active.

So to get us caught up, Harold:

Decorated a miniature Christmas tree! Big Kid was not impressed that Tinkerbell was present and predicted that Harold was always going to be doing things with dumb ol' Tinkerbell from now on and thought that would be gross and boring. Luckily, Harold proved him wrong and stopped the womanizing.

 Played army men! We were particularly impressed that he was wearing GI Joe's camo pants and helmet. GI Joe wasn't looking so happy about it though and is probably still naked.

 Hung from the ceiling fan! That night Big Kid called me in excitedly to point out that with the light on, the shadow Harold made looked exactly like a reindeer. I was doubtful--but then I could totally see what he was talking about! Real live Christmas magic there.

 Went fishing! little kid loved this one, especially since Harold used a real sharp hook. It was a safety pin but I guess the danger factor was impressive to little kid. He was also thrilled to see that he had caught one.

Brought chocolates! And made a mess out of wrapping paper. Harold does not magically clean up the messes that he magically makes, which is pretty annoying of him.

Made snow angels! Out of flour. The same day I vacuumed. little kid had just been talking about snow angels earlier that day though and was impressed that Harold was listening. 
 Joined us for breakfast! Harold brought his own little bowl of cereal and milk and toast. He also had a teensy black fly in his spoon.

 Read How the Grinch Stole Christmas! Later that night Big Kid carefully slid it from underneath Harold's hands to read it to little kid.
 So, things were going pretty well with Harold until yesterday when they found him hanging on the advent calendar. Everyone was pretty unimpressed with his creativity for that morning...until Big Kid opened the #12 drawer and found mini toilet plungers, toilet paper rolls and pieces of fake poo!! Isn't that horrible?!? What kind of elf is this? Big Kid wanted to hang him on the dart board and throw darts at him but I think we need to report it to Santa. What if he pulls this kind of behavior in the house of a toddler? little kid thinks it's funny and hopes we can get Harold back next year.

 Big Kid and I aren't so sure.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Missing Jesus

Last night I realized that my nativity scene was missing. A further search indicated that some Disney snowglobes I used to collect were also nowhere and I realized that these things must have been left in the attic of the last house we rented (and yes, I had reminded someone to check the attic before we left) which has since been sold.

It made me really sad. I feel like I've lost so much in the last two years between losing a career, steady income, perfect credit, the house we built and the awesome job that I thought was going to be my saving grace. My confidence and self-esteem has really taken a hit after sending out months and months of professionally written, customized-for-each-job resumes and getting no response. I can't even get an interview for a waitressing job. It seems like I'm not in control of anything anymore, so losing things that were incredibly special to me and that I was seemingly in control of was just the straw that broke this sad camel's back.

And I cried. I haven't cried over anything in a long time but I did cry over my lost nativity.

"What'sa matter, my mama?" A concerned little kid asked, peering into my eyes.

"I'm just sad because I lost my nativity scene--you know, with the baby Jesus and his parents? I'll be okay."

He quietly evaluated me and this statement before running off to get his brother. They both re-entered the room.

"What's wrong?" Big Kid asked little kid, both standing solemnly at the end of my bed as I tried to wipe and blink away tears.

"She lose-ed her baby Jesus. And her Mary!"

"Your baby Jesus is gone, mom? Want us to help you find him?"

"No, hon. It's okay. I'm sorry you guys are seeing me be sad."

"Just put a new baby Jesus on your Christmas list, mom." I nodded that this was a good idea, knowing that our family's first nativity couldn't be replaced and the Disney things I had collected 16 years ago and carefully packed back into their original boxes for each move were long gone.

"You's want me to buy you a new baby Jesus, my mumum? I will buys you that. So you be's happy."

"We will both get you baby Jesuses, mom! That way you'll always have an extra baby Jesus around!"

"My mumum, my sweet wittle love. Don't be sad about Jesus, 'kay? Awww, I so sorry you losted your baby Jesus. So sorry!"

"Mom, I don't know how...but I'm going to collect as many baby Jesuses as I can find and give them to you. Okay? You'll have so many baby Jesuses! All different types! And Marys too, if you want."

Their sweetness made me want to cry even more because I'm so lucky to have them.

But I knew I had to stop crying before I ended up with 10,000 baby Jesuses.

Thursday, December 9, 2010


Getting little kid to eat lunch is a struggle every single day.

Nine times out of ten, I make him a sandwich and he picks at it, nibbles at it, lets the cheese slide off, allows a piece of bread to fall onto the floor and then crumbles the rest into a ball so I won't notice that he hasn't eaten it. (I do notice, I'm actually much smarter than he thinks.)

Yesterday I was sick of this so I made him two chicken strips (his favorite and a reasonable quantity) and stood there and watched him eat them. At the 45 minute mark of obnoxious little bites with lots of lip smacking and face making, I told him I had had it and to eat the meal. At about 50 minutes and late for school, I lost it:

"YOU ARE GOING TO EAT THAT CHICKEN! Do you understand? I'm not playing this game with you every day. I make you a nice lunch and you are going to eat it! Two chicken strips!! That's it and you can't get that done! I HAVE HAD IT!! Do you hear me?? When I make you lunch, you WILL eat that lunch! All of it! Without me standing here and feeding you like a baby!!!! It's YOUR body that needs to grow healthy and strong and if YOU don't eat then YOU will have to deal with being puny forever!! Don't you want to be big and strong? Don't you want me to be HAPPY?!? YOU WILL EAT THIS CHICKEN!! YOU WILL EAT IT!! Do you understand me? I AM DONE WITH THIS! EAT THE CHICKEN!! DO. YOU. HEAR. ME?" 

He looked nonplussed. There was a quiet pause as we stared at each other.

"Yeah, I hear you. You are bein' very aggwessive and a little bit mean. Very aggwessive of you. I don't like your attitude."

But he did eat the chicken strips.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Christmas Freaks

All of my Christmas-crazy neighbors suddenly have golf carts.

No, we don't live in a golf course community. These freaks went out and rented golf carts for the month so they can drive around and look at each other's lights.

And I don't mean a handful of people--I mean that I can easily count 15 golf carts on my 1 mile drive home and that's without side streets. Some people have two carts, some people have the big extended shuttle-type ones, most have elaborately decorated them. All of the moms drive them up to the corner to pick up their walkers; the line of SUVs and minivans has been replaced by motorized carts of varying size and decor.

And I am so freaking jealous!! I called around and not only can I not get a golf cart (probably because my neighborhood has all of them) but they run between $400-$700 a month. Who does that??

Neighborhood Mom's is purple and is all decorated with glittery purple ribbon and ornaments. Big Kid rode home from school with her today and I'm pretty sure he loves her more than me now.

Animal Crossing: City Life

Do any of you have this game? Is one of your neighbors a duck named Joey? If so, we'd like to be your friend and visit each other's towns.

The boys got me this game for my birthday and we all became addicted. We built a little town, paid off our mortgages, sent each other mail and gifts daily, collected fossils and animals for the museum collection, became friends with our neighbors and customized our homes. The 4 of us played a little bit every single day for about 3 months.

And then little kid got bored and erased our entire town yesterday.

Big Kid was devastated; so genuinely, heart-breakingly sad. He is greatly mourning the loss of our neighbor Joey the duck, who is not in our new town. When I woke up this morning I found him at the computer writing an email to Nintendo begging them to help us get Joey back.

I think if you have a friend whose city you visit that your neighbors may move back and forth between each other's towns. This may be our only hope to see Joey again. I promise we will be good Animal Crossing friends to you, we won't mess up your town, and we will send you notes and gifts and invite you over to our place.

So if you play this game, will you email me at ashleyquitefrankly *at* g mail We haven't gone on wi-fi with it before so I'll have to figure out our friend code or whatever, but I'll do it so Big Kid and Joey can be reunited.

And I'll send you lots of nice presents. I swear.

Sunday, December 5, 2010


The other day in the car Big Kid asked, "Mom, what's Lookers?"

Oh shit, I thought. Lookers is a strip club. How would he know about a strip club? The radio! He does listen to radio advertisements. I can tell he already knows something is up, what can I say, what can I say shit shit shit.

I tried to remember the commercial so I could give a reasonable explanation but all I could remember was "L Ohh Ohhhhhhhhh K E R Sssssssssssss, Lookers! Looohhhhkeeeerssss.

"Uh, I don't know...? What? Why? "

"Lookers. L Oh! Oh! K E R S What do they do there?"

"Yes. I'm not--er, it is a...well, I am not sure."

"Could you call them?"


"I was thinking they could help us find Tangerine. Since they maybe look for things, maybe they look for lost cats?"

"Uh...yeah." And I left it at that.

And then turned off the radio forever.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Harold Hubert Piggybottom: Day 3

Well, this morning we discovered that Harold Hubert Piggybottom had rounded up every lady in the house and was slow dancing with Tinkerbelle. He also made the Happy Holidays blocks say Oh Happy Ladys! 

The kids thought it was hysterical but I highly doubt Santa Claus sent Harold here to chat up the ladies all night long. Big Kid disagrees and says it's probably fine, but I think his love of anagrams is tainting his good judgment. I just don't know about this elf. He better back off of Tinkerbelle; she's mine.

He looks awfully happy here. The little perv.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Harold Hubert Piggybottom: Day 2

Good news! Today was a better day with Harold Hubert Piggybottom.

First thing this morning (and I mean first thing), I heard excited gasps and bare feet running toward my room.

"Mom! Moooooom! Harold's done something good! He's having a snowball fight with some of the other toys," Big Kid said.

"It's snowing outside?" I asked, wishing I hadn't stayed up so late.

"No! In the kitchen!" little kid replied.

"It's snowing in the kitchen?"

"No!" they both exclaimed.

"Are snowballs melting on my counter?"

"No, it's just marshmallows mom but you gotta come see. It's so cute!"

"That elf better not have attracted any ants!" Luckily, he had not. And he brought hot chocolate, on our coldest day of the year so far.

 So Harold is back in Big Kid's good graces (for now). 

My cat is also pretty grateful for the few marshmallows she was able to scrounge

Hopefully Harold can keep up the good work.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Harold Hubert Piggybottom

On Thanksgiving day, we came home and found the following letter on our door:

Dear Masters Big Kid and little kid:

Salutations and season’s greetings to you, my friends! It is getting extra chilly and very busy up here in the North Pole and we are all working very hard to meet our Christmas Day deadline. 

Due to changes in population and policy, I have had great difficulty monitoring behavior for 2010. Mrs. Claus came up with the wonderful idea of sending elves out to some families for the month of December; the elves could use a little vacation (and warm weather with you lucky Florida folks!) and I could certainly use the additional help. 

You have been assigned a very special elf and I hope you are up to the challenge! Harold Hubert Piggybottom is a charming and mischievous fellow…and the mischief is the problem. Harold is on probation, if you will. After repeated incidents, the Head Elf has decided that Christmas preparations would run more smoothly without Harold “helping”, so he has been assigned to do behavior reporting. We are confident that he will not be a problem—but if he is, please don’t hesitate to contact me or Mrs. Claus and we will see about sending out a replacement elf. You will be receiving a Satisfaction Survey along with a summary of your behavior reports, please be kind and fill it out so we can help our elves improve! You may want to keep notes on your experiences in order to accurately complete the survey.

Harold Hubert Piggybottom will be arriving sometime on December 1, 2010. He has strict instructions to be on his best behavior and I hope you will be on your best behavior as well. I am eager to get some positive reports back and I know you are very good boys. I only ask that you NOT touch Harold. Harold Hubert Piggybottom’s magical spirit is inside of an elf-shaped doll and handling the elf will ruin his magic. If you do touch him, he will need to be returned to the North Pole for refurbishing. We do not have time to do elf refurbishing in the month of December, so if you touch Harold you may be without an elf for the rest of the holiday season and that would be unfortunate for everyone. Adults may touch Harold if absolutely necessary; they are mostly immune to magic and won’t tarnish Harold’s. 

Thank you so much for hosting Harold Hubert Piggybottom in your home. I wish you a healthy, happy holiday season…and the best of luck in dealing with Harold.
                                                                                    Ho Ho Ho,
                                                                                   Santa Claus

The boys were very excited. There was much discussion about how the elf would behave, what hosting an elf would involve, how and when he would arrive, how careful they would be not to touch it, etc. I grumbled about getting a naughty elf assigned to us and swore I would send him back if he was more than I could handle. We looked for him first thing this morning but couldn't find an elf anywhere.

Tonight I realized we had forgotten to do the advent calendar so I told the boys to open the first door and Big Kid found 2 little toilets and a note inside. "Where's the chocolate I put in there?" I asked. "What are those and where did they come from? You two know I don't like potty humor! Did you eat the chocolate?"

Before he even read the note, Big Kid (who is normally very fond of potty humor) was furious. He knew That Elf had done this. "HOW DARE HE TAKE MY CHOCOLATE AND LEAVE A TOILET!! This is wrong! It's not right!!"

little kid was curious and amused.

The note read:

I am here. But where? 
Ready to meet you, with heart and soul
Hanging out somewhere sort of like the North Pole

Harold Hubert Piggybottom

Big Kid stormed to the freezer and flung the door open, calming down only slightly when he saw that the elf had his chocolates in there.

"It's still not right that he taked our chocolates! I'm writin' a letter to Santa right now! I'm gonna put it in a envelope and stick a stamp on there and mail it to the North Pole. He needs to know!" He stomped to the office to get paper and a pen.

"Mama, can I make a pwesent for Ha-old? Usin' paper? 'Cuz I want him to like me. I like him," little kid asked. I said that he could.

Big Kid's letter said:

Dear Santa,

Hubert Harold Piggybottom swapped our chocolates in our treat count down with stupid rubber toilets. You better give us a better elf next year!

Mad Big Kid

P.S. I do not care if Piggybottom feels bad about it.

Seeing that this situation was quickly spiraling out of control, I sided with our creepy and inappropriate elf friend for a moment and pointed out that Harold probably thought the whole thing would be funny; that I didn't like potty humor and they did so maybe he was trying to get on their good sides. And after all, he hadn't taken the chocolate. I agreed that we needed to mention this on our elf satisfaction survey, so Harold can do better next year but I wasn't convinced that the ranting and raving was necessary just yet.

By this time, little kid had drawn an elf picture and shoved the paper into the Christmas tree and somehow  smeared chocolate all over his tiny toilet, which he then happily licked off. This was one of the most revolting sights I've ever seen and his toilet now has bite marks in it.

At bed time Big Kid said, "Hey mom? I might like Harold. It's too soon to tell but maybe he's okay."

"Good. I think it could be fun." I answered.

"I'm still tellin' Santa about the toilet thing though."

I'm hoping tomorrow with Harold will go a little better.

(But Big Kid will probably never forgive him for the toilet trick.)

Monday, November 29, 2010

Bad Friends

"Big Kid, you need to find a friend in your class! Someone you can be silly with and laugh with and have over to play," I said on the way home today.

"Yeah, but mom? All the guys in my class...they like, like, naked lady drawings and cursing and stuff."

(In 2nd grade?? WTF! These little heathens!)

"Oh...and you don't like those things?"

Mo-om! No! They say things like the c-word--"

(Oh Jesus, no! Homeschool, here we come)

"--and like the HS word and the HC word..."

"Um, wh-what is the HS and the HC word?"

"Holy shit and holy crap."

"Oh! So the c word is...."

"Crap. And Isaac drew a picture of a naked lady! They think that stuff is funny. I just like simple silly jokes."

"Wow. Goodness."

"It was a naked lady peeing."

"Oh my! I'm so sorry you had to see that..."

"Yeah, don't worry about it too much--luckily, Isaac is not a good draw-er; it was, like, mostly a stick figure with 3 legs and pee comin' outta the one extra leg. I don't even know if Isaac has ever seen a naked lady..."

"Okay, well we will just keep looking for a good friend for you."

A good Amish friend or something.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Community Christmas

This is the weekend where we put up our Christmas decorations.

You know how I know that?

Because no less than 6 different neighbors told me at my garage sale last weekend that this is the weekend that we ALL put up our Christmas decorations and they made it pretty clear that participation was not optional and delays would not be tolerated.

I apparently moved into Dr. Seuss' Whoville. People take city trolley tours through my neighborhood to see the lights and buses full of nursing home patients are brought over to gawk. I mentioned having a Christmas party and a neighbor told me to forget about it and to forget about leaving my house after dark for most of December since the traffic is terrible. Good times!

On Christmas Eve, everyone gets paper bags and candles and goes down to the community park to fill the bags with sand they truck in and then we all line our driveways with the luminaries. Isn't that nice? I had 3 different neighbors mention the Jewish guy 4 blocks away who refuses to participate since he doesn't celebrate the light of Christ. Not a popular fellow. I'm going to guess that being too lazy to bother would make us social pariahs.

So, Mr. Ashley will be out there putting up Christmas lights with everyone else. I also have to call Neighborhood Mom today because she is intent on our children playing together--which is nice and all but it's a bit of a problem that I can't ignore her calls because she knows I'm here because she can see my car from her front window.

I don't think I'm neighborly enough for this Leave it to Beaverland. I might even be the grinch of our Whoville.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Mission Accomplished?

Philosorapter has an excellent point here and this is something I've been thinking about a lot lately.

Thanks to the terrorists of 2001 we are now subjected to unconstitutional searches via the TSA (who have never caught a terrorist, let's not forget). We have also fought against freedom of religion by protesting the construction of a mosque and we've given up untold amounts of privacy in the name of protection. Our economy has collapsed, thanks in part to two worthless wars and everyone is so busy pointing fingers at each other and screaming that no one can even remember what we're fighting for or about.

And where the hell is Osama Bin Laden??

So...who is winning again?

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Happy Turkey Day

I hope you find yourself with lots to be thankful for. 

And if you don't, I hope you at least have lots of leftovers. 

Monday, November 22, 2010

Jack Ass

Today at pre-k drop-off the director pulled me aside and asked if I was available December 15th because little kid had been chosen for a special part in the church's Christmas program. She told me I could get back to her later but to let her know if we couldn't as soon as possible so they could choose a replacement. She handed me an envelope and said more information about the part was inside and sort of indicated that I should keep it on the down low. I told her we would be there and was more excited than I should have been about my little star, already picturing him as Joseph or an angel.

(I was Mary in my preschool church Christmas pageant and recently found my Joseph on Facebook.)

When I got into the parking lot I stopped beside my car and opened my envelope to see that little kid was chosen to be...


...a donkey.

LOL. I don't blame them for not trusting him as Joseph; it would be tragic if Baby Jesus was thrown into the congregation for some crowd surfing.

And by tragic I mean the most entertaining church Christmas pageant in the history of church Christmas pageants. 

Oh well. I know he will make an excellent donkey; donkeys don't listen to anyone and pretty much do whatever they want, just like little kid.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Links to Do

Not ignoring you guys, I'm preparing for a garage sale. And a nerd herd meeting. And out of town guests. All in the same week!! Aren't I fun?

Remember how at my last garage sale that woman spit at me for not giving her an armload of designer baby clothes for $1? How could I resist good times like that??

Here's some stuff to keep you busy in my absence:
(You may have seen some of these because my link organizational system is all out of whack and I have no way of knowing what I've shared with you before. Do me a favor and pretend it is all new and exciting!)

Christmas wish list for wives
Stuff you can build
You're not deep
The Party
1st photo of a person ever taken (1839) (I think he's rather dashing)
Nick Jr. vs. MTV
Get over it
Letter to Santa
This is a theatre. The stage changes every 2 years. Looks like more fun than a garage sale and house guests!

Okay, I'm off to shuffle garage sale stuff around so that the house appears clean for the nerd herd meeting this afternoon. Think of me as you eat bon bons and lounge on your respective sofas.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Simple Genius

Big Kid, bless his big sweet heart, is in second grade now and is still clumsy with shoe-tying. He just takes forever and since our time in the mornings is limited, I often just do it for him so we can get it done right the first time and get moving. He favors Crocs and what we call his Hef loafers (we leave Hef out of it when he's around, but they are some pimp-ass shoes) so his feet don't get squished, but I'm sure it helps that he doesn't have to deal with tying those two pairs.

But lately I realize that he needs to get more proficient with the shoe tying, so I've been making him wear his Vans and having him tie them himself. Yesterday I told him to tie his shoes while I finished getting dressed. I walked back into the room and was angry when I saw him sitting on the couch without shoes on.

And then I saw his perfectly tied shoes sitting neatly beside him.

He had tied his shoes, he just didn't put them on his feet first. He also had his socks on wrong--this has been a problem for years now. Big Kid is baffled by socks. Yes, he can tell you the gestation period of kangaroos, what month and year the original Super Mario Bros came out and has been making a master list of homophones for fun this week...but that stripe across the toe, gray patch at the heel business? It's too much. It's up there with zippers; the concept just completely eludes him.

When I pointed out the error of his shoe-tying ways, he was so chagrined that I couldn't even feel frustrated about it. He had indeed tied his shoes--maybe it was my instructions that were the problem.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


People, this nerd herd coaching a team of children of any kind--these are bad ideas. (But we knew that, didn't we?)

Don't get me wrong, I'm starting to love them as individuals (most of them). I am very proud of what they're doing (it is so creative and funny). They just drive me freaking crazy!!

The chair scraping and table slapping and random noises and boyish mischief and girlish drama and talking over one another and raising hands in the air and then shaking them around and going "OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OHHHHHHHHHH!" while waiting for me to acknowledge all just drives me completely bonkers. (And this is after we let them run around outside for 15 minutes!)

And that's typical kid behavior, that's not even when people are misbehaving.

Add the frustration of the challenge itself, which is that they must do this on their own and I'm only there to guide them by asking questions, and you can understand why at one point of today's meeting I was literally banging my head on the dining room table.

I have one precious little kindergartner with strawberry blond ringlets and huge blue eyes and dimples, a perfect cupid's bow mouth and a baby lisp, always perfectly dressed and crowned with a hair bow that matches her outfit. Today she had her head in her arms and kept asking, "When we gonna be done, Miss Ashwey? Pwease can we be done now? I so tiyud."

I think we're all tiyud of the script writing process. We have one more script writing meeting until the rough draft of their skit is finished and then it's GOT to get easier and more enjoyable.

Because if it doesn't I'm going to have to move and change my phone numbers and enroll Big Kid in another school. Maybe under a different name.

Monday, November 8, 2010


 It's that time of the year where we listen to Ashley complain about the time change and how very tired she is and how time seems to go by super slowly, especially around bed time. I woke up way too early today!

So, here's some Halloween pictures instead of the biannual joy of me bitching about what time the sun rises and sets:

Harry Potter and Buzz Lightyear. 
 I made these witch's finger cookies. It took me a long time. They were almond shortbread cookies with strawberry jelly holding the slivered almond nails on. The kids hated them!! They were delicious though.

I made creepy touch boxes with witch's warts (raisins), Frankenstein's heart (Jello jigglers), vampire fangs (slivered almonds), troll skin (wet onion peelings), zombie brains (jello brain mold) and evil eyes (black olives). The kids didn't like this either. Big Kid wouldn't touch any of it and asked why anyone would stick their hand into a dark box that may have body parts in it. (FOR FUN?!?)

Other than the boring kids ruining all of my big plans, we had a great night. We had a lot of fun people over, went trick or treating, and then projected a movie onto the front of the house and partied while the kids sat in the yard and ate candy.

I'll probably do it all over again next year, minus the kids.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Everybody Look!

little kid made his first prison shank. 

It's pretty good! It even has a nail embedded into one side of it.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Mexican Dude

Oh my goodness, people. I have been so busy but I knew I had to post this ASAP.

Look what came home in Big Kid's school folder today; it is 2 pages from his book about how to ride a Razor scooter (click image to enlarge):
Please note the cursing Mexican dude in the illustration...


I laughed so hard that it became a choking/gasping sound that made little kid come running because he thought I was crying.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Allowed for Now

My kids are using two of the blankets from my bed to slip and slide across the living room floor. It's a problem because:

1. I don't really want my blankets to get dirty.
2. This seems a little dangerous.
3. There is a decent chance that something of mine will get broken.
4. They are loud.

But I'm allowing it because we're having a Halloween party tomorrow and I have stuff to do. Two blankets seems like a minimal amount of mess (unless something breaks, but life is about taking chances) and they are entertaining each other. This is one of little kid's least dangerous ideas, so I'm going to let them slide.

(I'm only on the internet to get a recipe real quick. I swear. I'm not also checking Facebook, my email, my blog and a few of my favorite websites. At all.)

Thursday, October 28, 2010


One of my major problems this week is severe back pain.

It's like one of my hips (or maybe my whole pelvis? I don't know anatomy, something is fucked up--that's as technical as I can get about it) is crooked or out of place and I'm in terrible pain. When I cough or sneeze, I have to brace myself and I feel like I'm going to pass out because it hurts so bad. It hurts to sit, it hurts to stand, it hurts to lie down, it hurts to walk. It hurts all of the time.

When I have to drive, I stand and stare at my SUV with trepidation, knowing that getting up into it is going to make me want to throw up. Last night as I was lying in bed, it was so impossible to find a comfortable position that I wanted to cry.

I was looking for an affordable solution online last night and encountered the web page of a fat, gray, 70-some year old man with a handlebar mustache who gives free nude massages on his back porch. He likes to be nude when he does the massages. And my first thought was, "Looks legit. I wonder if he could help my back."

Seriously. I would do anything for it to stop hurting.

Including allowing a creepy, nude senior citizen to rub my naked body.

For real. It's bad.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

New Disorder

Being little kid's mother is like having a small, destructive shadow that sings Happy Birthday all day long, argues about everything and is constantly trying to touch your face.

It's a lot like mental illness.

Maybe Motherhood should be listed as a disorder in the DSM-IV.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Parenting PSA

I have shared a lot of good parenting tips with you throughout the years. Mostly about what not to do, but still, that counts as valuable information.

So as your honest friend and trusted adviser, I feel obliged to share my latest and most important discovery with you:


Now wait for it--hear all of those people disagreeing? Those people tsk tsking and saying that's not true and that volunteering is rewarding and fun and totally worth it?


Reading books is rewarding, fun and totally worth it. Going to the beach is rewarding, fun and totally worth it. Getting a pedicure is rewarding, fun and totally worth it. Shopping without kids around is rewarding, fun and totally worth it. Hanging out with your own kids is rewarding, fun and totally worth it.

Dealing with other people's kids for free? Not so much.

Yeah, you have to do something if you want to be a good mom. So show up for the class parties, donate some paper plates (if you bring Zoo Pals you'll be an instant celebrity) and call it a day.

You'll be the tannest, smartest mom there.

And I know--a lot of you will have to learn the hard way regardless of this Public Service Announcement because that's how you roll but eventually you will think back to this post, know that I was completely right and go to great lengths to keep your phone number away from the PTA directory in the future.


You know how I was promising and promising you all last week that I was really super, duper happy and my depressing temporary blog layout change didn't reflect my personality at all?

Well, once again, God must read my blog because He went ahead and put a quick end to the happiness. The grand culmination of Hell Week being that my laptop is now one giant, virus-infected paperweight--and that's the least of my problems.

(Even though I feel like I'm missing a limb without it and that is a pretty big problem.)

I have floors to mop for my nerd herd meeting this afternoon and no laptop to sit around on all day, so I can't even tell you that Big Kid is worried about his cholesterol or that little kid's snail collection is loose in the house.

You better miss me terribly.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Yesterday's Trip to the Grocery Store

"Mom, I keep thinking of something really disgusting and it makes my stomach hurt," Big Kid said.

Sigh. "That broken egg over in the refrigerated section? I'll tell them it's there and a store employee will deal with it. We didn't do it, it's not hurting anyone, think of something else."

"No. Something in school that happened."

"What happened in school? Maybe if you say it out loud, your brain can stop thinking about it."

"Okay," taking a deep breath. "In music class, our teacher is making us," another deep breath, furtive glances around to see if anyone is listening. My heart starts racing, "sing this goes Skinnamarink a dink a dink, skinnamarink a doo, I looooove you." I joined in and sang the rest of it because I know this one. He looked surprised.

"Okay, and?" I asked. "What was disgusting?"

He looked at me in disbelief. "It's not even February!"


"Singin' a song about lovin' people in October?! Come on, mom. You know that's weird!"

"You're weird. I love you in October. I don't see the problem with this."

"Have you heard the song, mom? How it's all, like, in little kids' voices? You don't know what you're talking about. It's disgusting! I don't feel right singin' it and you said I didn't ever have to do anything I felt uncomfortable with or thought was inappropriate, so I just pretend to sing. But I wish my music teacher could just sing somethin' else!"

"This is one of your weirdest things ever, Big Kid. I don't really care if you sing it or not but there is nothing inappropriate or uncomfortable about this, really."

little kid, upon realizing that our attention had been diverted from him for more than 60 seconds, began to make smooching sounds at Big Kid.

"Mom, he's making gross sounds at me because he knows I don't like that song! Make him stop!"

"little kid, please stop."


"Aaaaah! He's trying to kiss me now. Mom, mom, he's not listening to how you told him to stop. little kid--this is not appropriate! You will get a time out for this! Mom, mom, tell him he'll get a time out."

"Seriously you two, stop it. Act like gentlemen in this grocery store or else. I am not kidding, don't test me today."


"LITTLE KID!" said Big Kid and I.


"little kid, get off of me! Stop kissing me!" Big Kid shrieked.

"That's it, I'm taking your men away when we get home."

"NOOOOOO! Mama, no! I promise I stoppin' now. No more kissin' my bubby. NOOOOO!"

"No, you got several warnings. If you want them back, you'll be good."

"Mom, the smooching wasn't that big of a deal. I don't think you should take his men."

"No, he needs to learn to listen. Please don't get involved."


Big Kid gave me a dirty look. "little kid, you can have Zumby." (His favorite, most beloved toy.)

"Big Kid, he's in trouble for harassing you! You shouldn't reward him."

"I don't think you should take his men away though."

"You are not the parent! This conversation is over, you two are out of control."

"Bubby...Zumby isn't enough toys for me," said a sniffly-nosed little kid. "I needs lots of toys."

"I know, little kid. I'm so sorry. You can have all of my toys."

"WAAAAAH! What if mama takes those away? I want my men!"

"I have $75 saved up and I will buy you all new toys, little kid! Don't worry, we're brothers and I'll help you."

Despite wanting to beat both of them right there in the middle of the grocery store, it was pretty sweet to see that Big Kid can even love his little brother in October.

(See why I hate grocery shopping?)

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


Today was the first Odyssey of the Mind meeting with my group that I affectionately call the Nerd Herd (don't tell their parents). I am super duper tired. I *want* to talk to you all, I just can't get my brain going fast enough to make it happen.

So, here's some other stuff:

Rare and unusual historically significant photos
Harry Potter's Butterbeer cupcake recipe
On books
Funny cat kick
Solving world hunger
Baby owl
Real life time capsule
13 bizarre lakes
Go home, dad
It's fall, fuckers

Friday, October 15, 2010

Fall of Giants

This may be a long shot, but has anyone read Fall of Giants by Ken Follet?

I loved Pillars of the Earth and liked World Without End, but I'm in the mid 200s page-wise with this book and I don't know whether to give up now or forge through to the end. It's a 700+ page book, so if I'm going to quit I'd rather do it soon.

There is WAAAAAAAAAY too much political/war-related discussion going on in the book right now. It was interesting at first but now I'm sick of it and they aren't even at war yet.

So, is there anyone out there with advice for me? Maybe? Please?

Doctor's Husband

Big Kid is a saver, not a spender. He hoards every dollar, putting it in his money pouch, counting after every addition. He's got about $75 right now.

"What are you saving for?" I always ask. He never has an answer.

But the other day he asked me, "Do you know why I save all of my money?"


"For college," he said with a sweet, shy smile.

"College?!? Wow! What a good boy you are. Daddy and I put money aside every month so you can go to college, though. We're going to try to pay for that for you."

"Yeah but college is expensive, mom. I can't let you pay for the whole thing!"

"That's seriously like the sweetest thing I've ever heard, but you can spend your money on something nice if you want! We'll handle college, really."

"Well then, I'm saving it to buy myself something nice when I'm in college. Just in case."

Knowing Big Kid, he'll probably be driving a Bentley by the time he's in college.

And I'll wish I'd let him pay for college himself.

Poor guy has a sensitive stomach (a sensitive everything, really) and was cringing and pale the other day when I was telling little kid the story of how I got stitches when I was a little girl.

"MOM!! I never want to hear you say the word 'stitches' ever again. I can't handle it. I just wanna barf right now."

"Big Kid, you better marry a girl with a strong stomach or you're going to have a hard time when you're a daddy. Hey, you should marry a doctor! That would be great, then you could trust her to take care of you and your children's health and she could deal with sick and yucky stuff."

He thought about that from the back seat. "Yeah," he said hesitantly, "How would that work though?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will my wife already have a job when I marry her? Can you just marry a doctor or do I meet a girl and hope she wants to be a doctor? Do you get married before college? Does everyone's parents pay for college?"

I could almost see him calculating the student loan costs of a medical degree in his 7 year old head.

"You get married after college, after you have a job and when she's already a doctor."

"Good idea. I'm gonna do that."

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Time Tests

I'm volunteering in Big Kid's class this year and his teacher has me helping the kids with math.

This is funny since my math abilities are near a second grade level.

What's not funny is how annoying these little bastards can be.

Every week, no one has a sufficiently sharpened pencil. I come in at 1:50...what do they write with prior to this? I have to make them do time tests in small groups, where they have 2 minutes to do 40 problems (these tests were the bane of my 2nd grade existence, so I feel for them) and at least half of each group tries to cheat by starting the test before I say they can. Then they deny that they have started when I call them out on it--I'm sitting right there, little cheaters, I can see you.

A couple of them just flat out don't listen. Ever. At all. They especially don't give a rat's ass about the 2 minute timed tests. When the teacher sees me trying to reason with them, she gives me this laughing "Do you see what I deal with?" smile--and doesn't intervene.

And I don't blame her because I only see them an hour a week and if I could escape them for that hour, I would too.

She's got to be medicated. How else could she stand it?

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Zero Gravity

Big Kid just came into my room, eyes watering and lip trembling, to tell me in a breaking, squeaking little voice that he's scared.

"What are you scared of?" I asked.

"That gravity will go away," he cried.

He's so worried about it he can't sleep and he never wants to watch his favorite science show again because they showed astronauts in zero gravity and it really upset him. This wasn't a getting-out-of-bed tactic either, homeboy was genuinely afraid gravity would cease to exist and his stomach was hurting over the thought.


Gravity? Seriously? One of the few things in the world that you can count on?

He came home from school the other day highly disturbed about a poem they had read about a baby eating a microchip and catching a virus. He couldn't stop thinking that the baby could possibly be deleted this way and he thought I should call his teacher and suggest they not read poems like this anymore because it could really freak kindergartners out. (I declined on making that call.)

Although comical in a "What in the world?" kind of way, I'm worried that his little brain is wearing him out. He's been dealing with some anxiety issues lately; he got in trouble with us (hardly, he really never gets in trouble) for slacking off in school a bit and became so stressed out over it I was afraid his teachers would think we were beating him.

Gravity may be here to stay, but I do worry about him keeping both feet on the ground.


We're going back to the old layout for now. It's easier than figuring out something new or convincing everyone I haven't gone emo. I liked the simplicity of the gray one but not if it will change the way you all read.

Do I look happier already?


Okay, since the layout change people are claiming I sound monotone or depressed. I swear I am not monotone or depressed!! See those exclamation points? Are those the exclamation points of someone monotone or depressed? No!! No, they are not!

I think everyone is more influenced by page design than I had previously thought. I don't know what I am going to do with you all. Apparently a girl cannot possibly be content without a bright pink header or the word Fuck in her tagline. FINE!!! I'll work on a new header.

I do have a typical Ashley awkward situation to share with you. Big Kid's school does this Odyssey of the Mind program; I guess it's like an extracurricular team brainstorming project thing (pretty sure that's the official description.) He wanted to do it last year but I went to the meeting and the whole thing sounded pretty boring; weekly meetings, seminars and conferences, blah blah blah. But this year he's showing signs of being bored in school so I thought it would be good for him to be forced to use his brain and work closely with others.

So I went to the meeting and it still sounded pretty boring but I figured he'd like it. To sign your child up, you had to offer to volunteer and you had to choose 2 possible positions from the list. The list included things like being a coach, co-coach, judge or worker. I didn't want to be a coach, co-coach or judge because they required a day's worth of training an hour or so away, so I oh so cleverly indicated that I wanted to be a worker and that I'd be willing to be a co-coach but wouldn't be able to attend the training.

Ha! I thought for sure they would realize that I am not the woman for the job.

Well, to make a long story short, I somehow have ended up as the coach and the freaking meetings have to be at my house every week. AAAHHHH!!!  They call me and the other coach co-coaches, but I'm the one who the coordinator calls and who gets all of the forms to fill out and who has to call people and coordinate things. I don't know how this happened. I never really agreed to it--that coordinator is smooth. The meetings can't be at the school or library because things have to be constructed and painted and stored. My house seemed like the obvious solution since I live so close to the school. Oh, freaking joy!

So I'm now the coach of something I am unable to even describe correctly. And I have to let a bunch of weird little kids and their weird parents in my house every week (the parents will be dropping them off, but still.) One of whom is the Neighborhood Mom who lives across the street. Remember the one who asks every single time she sees me if we're renting or if we own the house and if we plan on buying? She came over this morning to invite the kids to play and asked Mr. Ashley again. Isn't that weird?? She also invited us to bring chairs over and sit outside with them and hang out. Which is really nice, but after Bus Stop Mom I'm afraid to have friends within walking distance, and now I'll feel bad if I see them out there and don't feel like bringing chairs over and hanging out.

That sounds awful, doesn't it? I am pretty awful. But we'll probably end up being friends since I will be having her child over weekly.

I am definitely not the sort of person who should have a team full of kids in her house and under her supervision on a regular basis.

Fuck. How did I get myself into this?

Friday, October 8, 2010

Don't Worry

My site hasn't been taken over by the most boring hackers ever. It just got what may be the most underwhelming makeover in internet history.

I've been tired of the header for a while now but never know exactly what I want to change it to, so it's always on my list of things to procrastinate about. But the new blogger template I wanted to use required a different sized image up top. Since I no longer have photoshop, any money, or any ideas, I just went with something simple and easy until inspiration strikes.

The plan is for it to be temporary, but I wouldn't hold your breath for any rapid changes if I were you.

Just wanted to let you know since I'm sure you were all really worried, like maybe some monochromatic terrorists are holding me and my blog hostage. Nope. Maybe we'll get some colors and swirly designs and patterns and widgets and columns and such one day.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Good News

Remember That Job that I interviewed for and didn't get? And didn't want, but was hurt and offended not to receive an offer?

Well, the person who did get the job was on the morning news today and we can all rest a little easier knowing that I'm prettier than her and probably funnier, too. Also, she has a very nasally voice.

She is better qualified, but while she was an hour away at the crack of dawn making money and awkward small talk with some douchebag morning show host, I was sitting on my couch in my pajamas drinking coffee, critiquing her performance and being grateful that I have better hair.

And isn't that what life is really all about?

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Work, work and more work

"little kid, can you please put all of the chairs back where they belong? Not in front of my bedroom door."

"I can't, mumum. I gotta wook."

"You have work? Can you put the chairs up before you go?"

"Not really. I gots wook, wook and more wook. So I can'ts. You can just push the chairs to a side when you wanna get in your room!"

"That doesn't work for me. I need you to put them back where they go."

"Uh....maybe when I's done wookin'. My job is more important 'an some chairs."

This is when I want to scream, "YOU DON'T HAVE A FUCKING JOB!!!! YOU MAKE IT ALL UP!! CLEAN THIS MESS UP BEFORE I LOCK YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!" but I would never do that, of course.

Earlier today he took a full roll of toilet paper, placed it in the sink, drenched it with water and then sculpted it into a volcano. When he heard me coming to check on him, he tried to shove the gigantic mound down the sink drain which did not work and clogged the sink. There is no clear answer as to why he would do this.

Supposedly there's a lady at his work who wears a pretty dress and has a magic rag that makes everything sparkle all of the time. She keeps their offices really clean and she lives on the job site. I asked if she could come visit here, but she won't because she has heard how rude I am to little kid. I suggested that maybe he should see about living on the job site too and he was highly insulted.