madame-bluebird1.  We have these bluebirds.  They live in a house right outside my family room window.  It’s a quaint little house, whitewashed with a copper roof.  I thought the bluebirds had gone for a while (do they fly south?), but today they were back.  I spotted what appeared to be two males, which I thought was odd, because I’d never seen two males together before, just the male and female.  Upon closer inspection, there was also a female.  Hmmm.  Okay.  I sat and waited for a while, and another male showed up.  The “lady” (and I use that term loosely, because what ensued didn’t seem too ladylike to me)  went inside, and then a male followed her, and then came right back out again.  At one point, 6 males were counted flying around that house.  Waiting outside the door.  Pecking at each other.  Jockeying for position.

I’m going to call her Roxanne.  I’m not sure what kind of establishment Roxanne is running over there, but we’ve got young children that are watching this.  Sheesh.

2.  Dreams I had last week:  a)I was recruited for an all star volleyball team.  Forget that I’ve never played volleyball in my life.  The trainer told me I was way too thin and I needed to bulk up.  I explained that I had been thin my entire life, and that’s just how I am.  He said I was unhealthy.  b)I had a dream that I asked my husband if the kids knew.  He said “of course they know we love them.”  To which I replied “yeah, but do they know that we love each other?”.  Profound, don’t you think? and c)I dreamt I got the wrong turkey.  I bought a turkey for Thanksgiving, and I woke up in a panic because I thought I accidentally got a turkey breast instead of the entire turkey, and how-stupid-could-I-be-now-no-one-will-get-a-drumstick!  So the first thing I did in the morning was check on that turkey I bought.  The man said “it’s so hard to be you.”  Yes, it is.

edhochuli13.  We have this funny ritual in my house.  Tickling.  Well, it’s not so much the tickling that is the ritual, but how the tickling is stopped.  You see, in my house, the tickling only stops when the tickle-ee says ‘Ed Hochuli.’  So we, as the ticklers, tickle mercilessly.  Do you know how funny it is to see a four year old boy laughing so hard he can barely breathe and trying to say Ed Hochuli at the same time?  It’s pretty darned funny, that’s how funny it is. 

4.  The man came to me and declared that it is terribly sad when a four year old boy is convinced that the 19th of November is his birthday, even though you have told him repeatedly that it is not…that his birthday is actually December 19th.  Yet on the night of November 18th he goes to bed thinking it is his birthday tomorrow even though you tell him over and over that no, it’s not your birthday tomorrow, and then he wakes up on November 19th and says “it’s my birthday today!  Where are all the presents?”  And you have to break it to him (again) that it’s a whole nother month until his big day.  But, it’s nothing a little pumpkin chocolate bread won’t fix. 

5.  The Boots (cosmetics, not footwear) isle at Target.  First of all, you’ve got to be sly when you look at this stuff, unless you want the boots lady painting you up in the middle of Target.  I bought some concealer once, and when I was running low it, I knew I was going to have to face this lady if I wanted more.  So I was slick.  I waited until she was missing from the isle and snuck up there to get my stuff and bolt.  Well, I forgot whether I wanted the I or the II, and in the 3 seconds it took me to make up my mind she appeared out of nowhere.  “Can I help you find something?”  I told her I already found it, but thanks anyway.  Then she asked me if I was sure that was what I wanted.  Because I’m dumb and clearly don’t know how to apply cosmetics, as evidenced by the poor job I had done earlier in the day.  When I told her that yes, I already have some of it, and this is what I want, she asked if I was wearing it.

me:  “Yes, I have it on, but it’s been hours since I applied it.”

Boots:  “Really?”

me:  “Yes, I’m wearing it, but I put it on early in the morning.”

Boots:  “Oh, well let me try some of this on you.”

me, because I’m such a dishrag:  “oh, okay.”  Passers-by snicker.  

Boots:  “Are you sure you applied the concealer today?  The circles under your eyes just seem a little dark.”

me:  “yes.  I have four kids.  I got up at 5:00am.”

Boots:  “Maybe you need to put it on a little more thickly.”

me:  “Are you trying to insult my make-up application skilz, or are you insulting my looks?  You can take your concealer and conceal it somewhere that the sun doesn’t shine.”

Actually, I didn’t say that last part there.  Because I’m weak like that.  I felt like it, though.

6.  This week I decided it was high time that we repaint our kitchen.  We have talked about it for months, but since I have absolutely nothing going on this week, I just figured it would be a splendid time to begin a new project.   Because you know, right before a major holiday is always a good time to start a project.  In your kitchen.  Where you’re supposed to be cooking for the biggest feast of the year. 

So I chose the color.  It’s called Warm Brownie.  And frankly, I think that name just screams kitchen paint.  Anyway, I sent The Man off for the paint.  (Which by the way, don’t expect to send any man off to the Home Depot to just get one little thing and hurry right back).  And I took a little nap.  But only because he was gone for so long. 

So he comes back, and I made up this grand schedule of how we’re going to get the painting done and all kinds of housework done and the grocery shopping done, and it looked pretty reasonable.  So I gave him the schedule for his information, and then do you know what I did?  I went out to lunch with my friend, and painted pottery for 3 hours while The Man worked on the to-do list and painted the kitchen.  I think he probably wonders how it worked out that way.  Sometimes, I think it must be hard to be him.

And that is the extent of the miscellaneous for this week.


5 thoughts on “Miscellaneousness

  1. I spoke to the Man this morning and he said something about “kickin’ back and watching the game” while we were painting pottery. Don’t feel too badly for him 🙂

    Roxanne is the perfect name for your little bluebird friend. Perhaps you were thinking of the Police song when you named her?

  2. o.k. o.k. on all this … BUT what we REALLY need is an update on the anrogynous toad. Who lives near the bluebird brothel. Ah ha! The toad is running the brothel! Roxanne is being pimped out by a big ugly toad! What kind of place are you running?? Well, at least you have drumsticks and a freshly painted kitchen. …;) Oh next time you’re in Boots land, just take all your kids with you and let them play with the samples … Boots lady will have you out of there in seconds flat! Ha!

  3. mom2greatkids says:

    Hi there,
    I met you awhile back at Danny’s birthday party at the park. I recognized you and the kids so I felt like I had to speak up that I’d been reading your blog…and felt like I was such a goofball! Anyway, I had another moment this weekend similar where I was at Target with my oldest son and we had just checked out when my eye is caught by a sweet little red-headed girl (my mom always talked about how she wanted red-headed children and doesn’t have any so I always notice them!) and again I realized it was your family…your husband was checking out, it made me smile….I enjoy your writing and thought I should say hi again like the goofball I am…
    Stephanie B.

  4. I was first amazed that you have a Boots lady because at my Target, I’m on my own…no one to help when I need it.

    But then I read what she said and then I realized I’m blessed not to have a Boots lady! You should have told her where to stick it!

Say it...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s