The Prophecy

We had our first Girl Scout sleep over. It was a trial camping experience in my co-leader's back yard. I'm glad that we did it. It felt a lot like a sleep over, but the girls learned a lot about camping and I feel better about the encampment this coming weekend. We didn't get any homesick kids or even over scared kids. I was worried about that. My co-leader saved my life by packing a queen sized air mattress. I actually slept. Sort of. I really like my bed. I love my bed. I missed my bed that whole night. But it was a better sleeping experience than I've ever had out of doors. Damn, frogs are loud.

We took a hike earlier in the day with all the girls. It went pretty well although I think if we had more songs, it would have gone better. I resorted to singing the Brady Bunch and a couple of lines out of Gilligan's Island. I kind of muddled my way through the Jefferson's theme song when Deb,one of the parents who was with us, said, "I think Tess is a tune catcher."

I have never been called a tune catcher before. I didn't even know that it was a talent. I like it though. I remember hearing a Kathy Mattea song once on a country station while I was in the car with my friend Jenny. She always played country. I never did. But the next time I was hanging out with Jenny, the song came on the radio and I sang along. Jenny was amazed. Who knew that is what a tune catcher does? That's me. My husband always marvels on how I can remember lyrics to Christmas carols. I suppose a lot of people can do that, but if you take into consideration that he is incapable of holding on to any lyrics, my abilities are nothing short of miraculous.

So I told my hubby about Deb labeling me a "tune catcher."

He responded with, "The one prophesied? The one sent to save us from the tone deaf tyrant?"

I must be.

Bachi

Lately, my 10 year old son and I have been butting heads. He's become very adversarial. If I say he should wear a raincoat, he will state 20 reasons why he shouldn't. If I tell him to get ready for bed, he will come up with dozens of reasons why that isn't a good idea -- and after arguing all of those points, will have succeeded in staying up an additional 30 minutes past bed time. If I ask if his homework is complete, he says that there isn't any. (yeah, right.) It took him an hour to bring the trash out to the curb for collection yesterday evening. Not because the job is so onerous, but because he had to argue reasons why he couldn't do it right at that moment. There are many days that I just feel like I'm getting played.

So yesterday, a very exasperated me told him this:

It is my fondest hope that when you are an adult, you have a child who is exactly like you. And when that happens, I'll visit your house and slip that kid some espresso and vodka. Then I'll sit back and laugh my ass off. Hahahahaha! (crazy laugh)

I don't know why I thought vodka. Maybe I was thinking an espresso drink with vodka for me right about then wouldn't have been a bad idea. But I'll muddle through.

Shucks, last night Princess actually suggested that it wouldn't be a bad idea to send That to boarding school. She asked me if I had looked into that yet.

The scary part is that I know I'm no where near the worst of it. I know that true teenager-hood is just around the corner. I only have a handful of years left to instill within him the values that are important to his father and me. I get that every boy needs to test his limits and challenge authority but it is exhausting. Hey, do you think my mom slipped him some vodka and espresso last time she was here? She's coming back in a couple of days.

In the meantime, if any of you out there know of any good boarding schools -- Catholic or military, send me the contact info in the comments. Be sure to include the information for yearly tuition and fees.

Happy Mother's Day to Julia & Ninang

It happens at 0:43.

His friend Jeremy

When I need a quick pick me up, I like to peruse the offerings at website called Engrish.com. They show funny english words or phrases on products or signs that are corruptions of the English language. This goes beyond the simple misspelling, but more to strange new meanings that only a native speaker would understand. Like how having a drink called "Coolpis," might not be the most appetizing prospect on a hot summer day. Or how your marketing department might need a reorganization if they named your new candy "Dew-dew". It isn't only potty humor. Like the most recent discovery was of a very indecisive store called, "Go Go Come." Talk about mixed messages.

A work colleague of my husband is visiting from Taiwan. Jeremy thoughtfully brought presents to his friends here. Here is a picture of what we received.

Like any good morning cereal box, it comes with puzzles. Here's a closeup of the word scramble.It isn't that hard to solve the puzzle but just in case you're stumped, I put it as one of the labels for this post.


There are the simple misspellings like bayery for bakery, serring for serving, carbohy drate for carbohydrate, too many 'e's in protien. Those were fun.

But my favorite engrish from the box was this.


What's that you say? No engrish there. Oh, but my friend, when you open the box, the engrish becomes quite evident.

Yeah, that's not cake.

The advantages of marrying young

When my husband and I met, I was only 21 and he was 23. As far as the dating scene is concerned, we were pretty green. I mean, I sure never lived through anything resembling Sex in the City. There are advantages to that too. I didn't get to drop $1000 on a pair of shoes but I don't think I could ever do that. Too much Catholic guilt built up inside of me. And $1000 shoes is just plain uppity. For shoes to cost that much, they had better make me lose weight just by wearing them. Not by walking in them, but just by slipping them on.

But the other day, Hubby came home late from work. I warmed up his food and we sat down at the dinner table. While he was eating, he told me about his day. And at a crucial moment, he burped. All this while his mouth was full of food.

I told him, "The problem with us having met when we were so young is that you never really had to sharpen your game."

He didn't really understand that. So I told him that a guy who has a little more seasoning on him in the dating world would never have a mouthful of half macerated pork chop, talk and burp all at the same time. He'd be so much more suave. He'd have figured out how to present himself as refined, not boorish.

He shook his head. "I didn't burp... Well, not that I recall anyway."

My point exactly.

Perspective

We were out for our Sunday drive yesterday after having a great breakfast brunch. Often Hubby will drive us around the island just to take in the sights. Now that it is spring, the island is especially pretty with flowers and new foliage appearing. My girls and I especially like seeing the baby ducks and geese start to emerge -- little puff balls following their mothers in a straight line. Too cute!

We passed by a church parking lot which often is a meeting place for people with tricked out restored old cars. You know the ones that steal evenings and weekends by the need for obsessive polishing, chrome buffing and glass cleaning. Well, this weekend was no exception. As Hubby drove by, he glanced over at these preening men (yes, men with very patient wives, if there were wives involved) with a little bit of longing. He just doesn't have the time, nor a patient enough wife, nor we the space, for him to take a hunk of junk and coax it into a hot rod.

Here's how the conversation went down:

Princess: "Daddy, look!"

Hubby: "Oh yeah, I see them, those really cool cars..."

Princess: "No, (a little confused) geese."

Ah... the perspective from a 7 year old girl's eyes versus the perspective of a 40 year old man's eyes. But you know, that 40 year old man is still thinking about the Hot Wheels he fell in love with when he was 4 years old. Maybe they're not so different after all.