Doing What You Have To Do

My sister is so ghetto.

And funny.

By now, most of you that know me know that I'm not right.

But if you don't know my sister, then you probably think that I'm the one of the two that isn't quite right.

Well, I'm not.  And that's definitely true. 

But neither is she.  And here's the evidence.  

My aunt and uncle had a birthday part for her daughter Sheldon and Shane this summer.  When Susan gave the kids their presents (which, by the way, we were impressed that she remembered) she so proudly plopped them down on the table.

We all just sat there and looked at it trying to figure out what in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks she had done.

She finally announced in a "tee-hee" voice that she didn't have any wrapping paper (well, duh, we could see that) so she just did what she had to do.

She grabbed the Saranwrap and got to work.

She made sure to point out that she had put a pretty bow around it, which she had!

That, my friends, is pure genius.  Maybe mad genius.  But genius none-the-less. 

Got a weird shaped present?  No problem for the Saran Wrap.

Did someone use your tape and put the empty roll back into the drawer?  Yeah.  No problem.  Saran Wrap is all over that!

And now I'm going to add a roll of Saran Wrap in the van so when we're driving to a kids party and I'm trying to wrap the present (that we most likely bought on the way to the party) in the car, I'll have a fall back wrapping paper.

You know.  So just in case the emergency paper, scissors or tape that I have stowed in the van isn't there for some reason, I'll be able to wrap some poor child's present.

All ghetto like.

Because it's cool.  And the new "in-thing" to do!

Grocery Shopping With the Kids

I love when the kids are home for break.

Really I do!

And why wouldn't I?  There's no schedules other than the ones that I self-create and no homework to make them do and no mad dash scramble to get out the door in the morning.

But, unfortunately, inevitably we're going to need food.  Like chips and chocolate.

You know.  All the things that *I'm* going to need to survive the break.

And if you're a mom, you know what that means.

Yep.  You must head to the grocery store.  With them.

And if you haven't experienced this first hand, grocery shopping with them is so much fun.  And usually expensive too.  Because you know that they are chucking things into the cart left and right when you're not looking.

But I've got my eagle eye on guard looking out for that.  If I don't catch it when it's happening, I usually catch it when I'm unloading the cart at the checkout.

Because I'm no newb.

But the best part of grocery shopping with the kids is when they try and cram their too big bodies underneath the too small cart.

And, being silly, clueless kids, they don't see the steam coming out of my ears and are just so proud of themselves. And Owen asks if I'm going to blog the pictures or put them on Facebook.

But of course I am.  I want proof for when they have kids themselves.  Or better yet...their first girlfriend!  :evil:

I guess right now you're thinking that Shane must be behaving himself because I have no pictures of him.

Well you'd be right.  Partially.

He wasn't cramming his 100 pound body underneath the cart.  Nope.  Not at all.

In fact.  I'm really not sure what he was doing.  Because he had wandered off for the 15th time to God-only-knows-where to do God-only-knows-what.  Even though he was asked not to.  15 times.

So yeah.  Grocery shopping with kids.

I :heart: it!

Not.

Well Hello Wayne!

Well.  Hello Wayne.  Great to see you!

Grab a plunger.  There's work to be done!

Well.  Hello Mary Mayken.

Grab a toy/stuffed animal/blocks or whatever you can.  No need to play with it.

Just go ahead and stuff it down the john.

Wayne will be here soon to fix it.

Well.  Hello Ginny.  Hello Kim.

Nice job interrogating her.  Still don't know what it was.

I just know Wayne needs to plunge.  And plunge some more.  And then he needs to continue plunging.  And then when he thinks he's finished, plunge it some more.  :-|

:p

We never did figure out what she threw in there.  :-|

It's A Secret!

According to my friend Mike, my niece Mary Mayken has more secrets than the CIA.

And yeah.  I totally agree with that!

The only problem is that she leaks them faster than Wikileak.


So yeah.  If you have a secret, and you want it shared, be sure to tell Mary Mayken.  Otherwise, don't tell her anything!

Susan, you better be careful about any snarky comments that you make in front of her.  I'm just saying.  ;)

PS - Sorry it's sideways.  It's Susan's stellar videography at work.

And because it's sideways, you'll need to go to youtube itself to view the video.  It won't fit the whole thing on here because it's sideways.  :/

Don't Wish It Away...Summer Fun!

Remember the summer when everyone was complaining about how hot it was and wishing for the snow and cold?  I do!  And to all you people who wished for it...I hope that you're happy!

So, here's some pictures and a video from summer fun at the pool.  Oh man.  That seems like a snow storm, two school cancellations and a school delay ago!

Oh, wait...it was.  :/

Kids doing what they do best...just being kids.

Nothing better than the froggy slide!

Owen!

 

The big kids.

Weeee!

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually.  

Time to go.

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!!!

 

YEAH!  I'M TALKING TO YOU TOO, OWEN!

An Accomplice

My sister has an accomplice.

A Christmas caper accomplice.

When we were growing up, Susan could never wait until Christmas morning to find out what her presents were.  She knew ALL of mom's hiding places for presents.  ALL of them.

She tore our house apart looking for presents.  I'm sure that she went through Carrie and Brenda's houses looking for her stuff too.  And I'm also certain that she would get mom's car key and go and look in the trunk.  (Yeah, mom.  We knew about that hiding spot too.)

She was a master at carefully opening the presents under the tree and retaping them without tearing the paper.  I never quite figured that one out.

And why did she do this?  Because she's nosey.  Nosey.  Nosey.  Nosey.

But, unfortunately for her, one time she was also kind of a stoopid teenager and she decided to wear the Swatch bubble watch that mom had bought her around the house.  It was similar to the ones in this picture.  I'm pretty sure it had an airplane in it.

The problem that that she forgot to take it off.  And when we went to see my mom at her work, Susan was waving her arm around my mom and my mom spotted the watch on her arm and totally busted her.

LOL

But now she's grown with her very own little paybacks.  Well, you would think that they would be paybacks.  But nope.  Instead of getting a payback, she has an accomplice.  She no longer has to sneak around looking for stuff or opening presents and rewrapping them.

Because even though Mary Mayken wants everyone to keep her secrets, she can not keep a secret herself and she told Susan what Sheldon was getting her for Christmas.

But shush.  Don't tell Sheldon that Mary Mayken told Susan.  It's a secret.

LOL

Shush...It's A SECRET!

Even at four, my niece Mary Mayken already knows how to play the game.

She is sure to grow up a politician.

Because she knows how to work the system like no one's business.

At Thanksgiving, I asked her if she was my best friend.  Her response was "totally" and we pinky promised on it.

And then she leaned in, putting her lips to my ears and cupping her hand around her mouth, she whispered, "I am your best friend, Aunt Kem.  But don't tell mommy.  It's our secret.  Okay?"

I said "OK!" and gave her a big wink and then made her pinky promise with me.

Feeling pretty secure in my number one best friend spot (because you know all girls have numbered their best friends in ranking order of importance), I told Susan that MM was my best friend.

Susan responded that she was everyone's best friend.  But I said no she was mine because we pinky promised on it.

Then I noticed her go over to my dad and whisper in his ear.  And then smiled big at him.  As she made her way over to Shane.

Dad whispered to me that she told him that she was his best friend.  But...shush.  Don't tell Aunt Kem.  Because it's a secret.

And she said the same thing to Shane.  But...shush.  Don't tell Poppa.  It's a secret.

Then she made her way to my mom.  And she told her that she had four best friends and Nanny was one of them.

LOL.

So then she continued around the room promising everyone that she was their best friend.

But...shush.  Don't tell anyone.  It's a secret.

And then Ken and I decided to bust her on it.  And we both asked her who her best friend was at the same time.

Without skipping a beat, she said "you are both my number one best friends."  And, with a big wink to me, she stuck out her pinky to pinky promise me.

Stinker.

But she wouldn't pinky promise anyone else.  Unless I said it was okay.  She has her standards, you know!

But my dad finally got her to pinky promise him right before he left to go back to SC.  Because I said it was okay.  ;)

That girl already knows how to work the system!

She's everyone's best friend.  But...shush.  Don't tell.  It's a secret!

A Fate With Pinking Sheers

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

For many reasons but one is my love for comic strips.  I :heart: them.  I have said more than once on my blog that a good comic strip can make you feel like you're looking in the mirror.  The ones that I can identify with, I cut out and save.

And my mom does too.  I somehow got and kept a strip that she cut out in 1991.

Because once upon a time, the illustrator for the strip Nancy must have been sitting in my house when I was growing up.  Watching the whole ugly event unfold and thinking the entire time that they wanted...no needed...to get back to their drawling board and do the Sunday strip.

The whole ugly incident is so clear to me.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was sitting at my parents kitchen at dinner one night.  We were all in our usual seats.  Dad was on the far side of the oval across from me.  Susan was beside me and mom was across from her.

Well.  Hold up.  Let me back up for about an hour prior to that.

My sister was mad at my mom because mom wouldn't take her to get her hair cut.  She was so mad and in a fit of anger, she said "screw her.  I'm going to cut my own hair."

So she did.

With pinking sheers.

In case you don't know what those are, here's a visual image to help you out.

That's right.  Jagged edges and all.  And mom's scissors looked EXACTLY like this pair.

So Susan commenced to cutting her bangs.  But she cut them too short.  They were probably a 1/2 long. And they were all jagged.

Because she used pinking sheers to cut her hair.

So after she cut...ie maimed...her hair, she was obviously upset and in tears.

AND THEN MOM CAME HOME.

/cue dark music

And that's when the real fun began.  We all sat down to eat dinner.  Mom was yelling.  Susan was crying.  The harder she cried, the harder I laughed.

And dad sat there with a stupid "what the hell happened here" look on his face.

And I couldn't stop laughing.  And she couldn't stop crying.  And my mom couldn't stop yelling.  And dad couldn't stop the look on his face.

And then my mom turned on me.  Because I was laughing so hard that I fell out of my chair.  So she nicely suggested to me that I either collect myself or go to my room.

So I went to my room.  Because that was some funny shit and I couldn't stop laughing.  (I'm still laughing thinking about it.)

And it took months for Susan's hair to grow out.

And years for my mom to get over it.  I guess that she was over it by the time that this strip came out 6 years after "the incident" because she cut it out.

And I saved it.

Because it's FUNNY.

Oh.  Did I mention my sister was 13 years old at the time?

Or that her best friend did the same exact thing a few weeks later to her hair?  With the same type of pinking sheers if I remember correctly.

Dumb teenagers.  I guess she showed my mom.  LOL.

A Blast From The Past

Owen had a birthday party to go to last weekend.  I drew the short end of the stick and took him.  It was at a roller rink so I decided to stay and help him.

It was like taking a step back into time.  I'm pretty sure that the rink hadn't been updated since the 1970's.  Except for the "baby rink" where you would learn to skate (ie - fall on your a double snakes) was now gone.  In it's place was a spot for the birthday parties. 

Pretty sure that they sell the same nasty "roller rink pizza" and suicide sodas that we drank too.  They did the hokey pokey (well, they not Owen because he could barely stand on his skates) and some other games that put me into a time warp. 

At least they weren't playing Disco Duck, YMCA or Freeze Frame.  LOL

So I figured out that by the time I was Owen's age, I was a roller rink rat.  Susan and I had been skating since we were four.  We were on the speed skating team in kindergarten and by the time I was his age, my folks were dropping us off at the rink on the weekends so we could hang out with our friends.  (And they could hang out with theirs.  LOL)

So anyway, I walked him --- more like carried him --- around the rink trying to keep him upright.  All the while he was goofing and trying to fall.  Ugh.  So then I decided that I would get a pair of skates and give it a try myself.

Instead of the cool speed skates with BAPP (BIG A$$ POM POMS) that I use to have, I had to rent a pair.

Haha.  I'm pretty sure that they've had these skates since the 1970's too.

So, I decided I better take a spin or two around the rink before I went back to Owen because he would surely pull me down with skates on.  It took me a few times around to get my legs under me but once I did, I was fine.

Well.  *I* was fine.  It was all of the landmines around me that were trying to bring me down.  You know, kids dropping like flies right in front of me.  Or the parent who thought that it was a good idea to skate carrying their child...when they couldn't barely skate themselves.

The best were the people that would hold hands and form a chain across the lane.  If you were lucky, they didn't all go down.  Because once one went down, they all went down.

And it was always right in front of me.  LOL

Or the kids who skates completely out of control.  In the wrong direction.  Coming straight at you with limbs flailing.  

But I didn't fall.  Oh.  I was skating in defensive mode with my hands up.  Looking like an NFL wide receiver waiting for a ball.  But I didn't fall.

We did have fun.  (Probably because I didn't fall.  It was so much more fun to fall back then.)  It was a total blast from the past.  Definitely going to have to take the kids back.

Origami: An Obsession of an 11 Year Old Boy

Shane has been obsessed with origami since he was 8.

Obsessed.

I never really got his fascination with it until I watched Between the Folds, a documentary about the art and science of origami and how it interrelates particularly with regards to math.

Ah.  Now it makes sense.  It combines his love of math and science and figuring things out with his desire to create things.

So he searches youtube for ideas and will scour google for hours looking for things to make.  He's made everything from boxes to bunnies to rabbits and everything in between.

He loves to make things while we're at restaurants and leave them for the waiters and waitresses.  If he can con me out of money, he'll make their tip into origami.

Here's part of the waiter's tip last night.

I love this little outfit. <3

And I love his obsession.  Well, not the trail of papers he leaves strewn about but I do love his creativity.  And especially his thinking outside the box!

An Unusual Sighting

I live in a state where it's illegal to smoke in a restaurant or bar unless that establishment has an area separated by a door and a different ventilation system (I believe.)  So in effect, an establishment has to have two separate areas entirely for it's smokers and non-smokers.

And I like it.  I've gotten use to being able to eat in a restaurant where the table next to you isn't smoking while you're eating.  And I can choose whether to come home from a bar smelling like an ashtray.  Or not.

So it's weird for me now when I go back to SC to go into a smokey restaurant or bar (gag). 

And even weirder when you round a corner and run right into one of these archaic things.  A rather unusual sighting for me these days.  How very 1970's.

 

Really.  These are the only ciggys that someone should be "smoking."  This was obviously a goof that my friends and I did when were were out and about in SC. 

And I totally remember "smoking" these when I was a kid.  It was cool.  But really.  Is that even cool anymore?  Or right on any level?

Either the real ones or the candy ciggys?

Um.  No.

Wow.  File this under things that make you go "hum."

The Beverly Hillbillies

My children are trying to make my yard look like we are the Beverly Hillbillies.  They think that the outdoors is just an extension of the house and they can just drop whatever it is that they're playing with in the middle of the yard and leave it there.

Or the cul-de-sac.

Or the neighbor's yard.

Or the trees.  Yes.  The trees.  I found a soda can nicely propped up in the little bush outside of my garage a few days ago.

Which, by the way, they're not allowed to have.

But apparently my kids aren't the only ones trying their best to make our yard be "that yard".

Because I found the next door neighbor's kid's sweatband in the front yard.  And I gave it back to him.

Then I found it again the next day.  In my front yard.  :-|

And then I found his football glove in my driveway this morning.  :rolleyes:

So yeah.  If you drive by my house, please don't judge me by the crap strewn about the yard.  I'm trying my best.

They just make messes faster than I can pick them up.  And yeah, yeah, mom.  I get it.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.