Thursday, January 21, 2010

Skeletor Statistics

68 - Number of times Skeletor has left a phone message in which she states she feels absolutely awful and instructs me to call her in the morning in case she's dead.

59 - Number of times that she has arrived at my house shortly after leaving one of the afore-mentioned messages with no apparent health problem.

675 - Number of times Skeletor has demanded that I say "thank you" for things like starting my dishwasher, bringing in my mail or newspaper, etc.

0 - Number of times she has thanked me for saving her ass in the NUMEROUS legal problems that she brought on by herself.

1 - Number of times Skeletor walked around to the back of my house and let herself in through the back door after finding the front door locked. (Once, because it only took once for me to learn to lock the back door when I leave).

1 - Number of times she has refused to leave my house when asked, and, instead, told me to call the police.

5 - Number of days before she visited following the birth of her first grandchild (Aidan).

50 - Number of minutes she stayed.

5 - Number of times she has called Aidan a "bastard" or"liar" to his face or accused him of doing drugs in her car.

0 - Number of significant life-events that she attended sober i.e., college graduation, law school graduation, wedding, etc.

969 - Number of times she has made negative comments about my or my family's weight.

46 - Number of times she has implied that I am jealous because I weigh more than her (103 lbs).

98 - Number of my kids' events, such as orchestra performances, choir performances, talent show, games, that she has been invited to.

14 - Number of my kids' events that she has attended.

14 - Number of my kids' events in which she criticized the students, talked through, or left early.

545 - Number of times since then that she has complained about not being invited to my kids' events.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

My Dog is an Alcoholic

I know you have never heard of a canine alcoholic. I am willing to admit that it is entirely possile that Sophia is the first.

Why, you ask, do I believe my adorable Goldendoodle to be an alcoholic? Let me explain.

Occasionally, I drink beer. And more occasionally, I drink beer while doing something on my computer, at which time, I place the beer on the floor (the fact I don't have a table nearby is another matter).

Every once in a while, Sophia would trample by and "accidentally" knock over my drink. Typically, at this point, I would utter a few swear words (especially if there was no more beer in the fridge).

Then I would run to the kitchen to get a towel to dry it up. But when I returned, Sophia would be licking up the beer left in the carpet. I thought this was funny, but then this sequence of events occurred more frequently.

You might assume that the frequency of this occurence was relative to the frequency of beer bottles being on the floor. That would make sense, wouldn't it? And yet, it's not.

My dog is an alcoholic.

Her first taste of beer following a spill may have been unintentional, but, clearly, that was all it took for her to be hooked. She's a smart dog. She immediately understood the sequence of events necessary to provide her with alcohol.

Sure, she puts on a good cover. She comes bounding over to me with her tail wagging. A naive person would believe she wanted to play. But I know the truth.

So now I put my beer on a table.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Conversations With Children

1. On the way to basketball practice:

BRODY: "McKenna and I think that when someone dies, they come back as someone else."

ME: "That could be true. I don't know."

BRODY: "I think I lived in Japan and my name was Takito."

2. After Charmaine put hair extensions in my hair producing the illusion of great length and volume:

BRODY: "That looks good, mom."

ME: "I know. Do I look younger?"

BRODY: "Your hair looks younger."

3. After I finally realized that Gunnar was trying to get in the house since he forgot his key and it was fricking freezing outside and he had been out for a while (he didn't ring the doorbell, so it's not completely my fault):

ME: "Gunnar, what are you doing?"

GUNNAR: "Trying to get in a window. Thank's alot mom." (spoken in a very sarcastic tone)."

ME: "Where's your key?"

GUNNAR: "In my room." "And on top of that I just found out that that an 8th grader killed himself over Christmas break and I knew him."

ME: Very huge gasp with hands over my face. "Oh my God. What happened?"

GUNNAR: "His parents were fighting and he went and got one of his father's guns and shot himself."

ME: Another very huge gasp. "Oh my God."