Saturday, November 21, 2009

We're All Stars Now in the Dope Show*

J and I had date night tonight. He really wanted to see a movie - so we found a sitter, bought some tickets online and set out.

We left a bit early, too early to go to the theater. So, I suggested we stop for a beer. He said "No, let's find a bookstore." Huh?

Bookstores are my gig. He makes fun of me for wanting to spend even part of an evening out poking around a bookstore. But, whatever. It was nice.

We headed to the theater a while later. Got our tickets to see The Blind Side (which was good despite Sandra Bullock's blonde hair and Tim McGraw's hair piece) and waded through the lobby full of angsty New Moon-awaiting teenagers to theater 17. Which was fairly full. We managed to find two seats next to a family: parents and two teenage boys.

While waiting for the movie to start, I noticed the kid next to me get a text on his phone. Being the inherently nosy person I am, I sideways-glanced to read the text. I missed the incoming text but got to read the response. Which was this:

"Dude, I'm at a movie but if you come by around 10 or 11, I'll sell you an 1/8."

What?! Are you fucking kidding me? I was sitting next to a little shithead drug dealer at the movies. And he was closing drug deals while hanging out WITH HIS MOM.

The next few texts involved how expensive the last shit he sold this guy was, whether he could just get a blunt tonight and when he could get it.

About an hour into the movie, my little movie neighbor conveniently excused himself for a few minutes. He didn't have to pee, y'all. I'm relatively sure he came back from the lobby with a little extra cash in his pocket.

I seriously sat there and contemplated whether to tell his parents on the way out of the theater that their son was a dope pusher. I didn't, of course, because I'm a pussy.

What would you have done?

*Apologies to Marilyn Manson for stealing his song lyric

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

What Happens While I'm Working...

I've been doing some work this morning. My two-and-a-half year old twins decided to dress themselves. Here is their handiwork:

(It is currently 40 degrees and damp outside, by the way.)

They also decided to cover my bathroom carpet with a healthy layer of shaving cream and Rain-X. Why do people put carpet in bathrooms?

Good morning.

Friday, November 13, 2009

I'm Not Even Sure What to Say About This

My first grader has library check-out on Thursdays. She's turned into a little reading machine over the last month.

I open her door at 10:00pm to cover her up, only to find her lying in bed, finishing the last chapter of a Magic Tree House book (her current faves). She staggers to breakfast in the morning, tired because she stays up so late reading. She takes books in the car, reading Shel Silverstein aloud to me or taking in a few quick chapters of something if she can find a chair to sit in while I shop.

She likes fiction and non-fiction. She likes poetry and prose.

I was interested and amused to find this as one of her school library selections this week:

Weird, no?

(She has no idea who Oprah is, by the way. "I just wanted to learn about this lady.")

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

My Instructions on How to Start the Day Right

* This one's goin' out to Amy in Delray Beach...

Step 1 - Watch this video (You'll have to click the link because the owners of the video apparently don't allow embedding. Total jackasses.) but - VERY IMPORTANT - fast-forward to the 21 second mark and watch to the end. Everything before then is ridiculous and stupid.

Step 2 - Repeat. As many times as your mood requires.

There you go.


sigh...I caught this during a football game this weekend on TV and had the vapors for about 20 minutes.

(I just can't believe he went to freaking Mizzou)

Monday, November 2, 2009

A Brief Conversation with My Eldest Child. On Steroids.

My oldest is on day three of five days of an oral steroid. He's battling a barky, croupy cough. The steroid is supposed to help.

And it also makes him a bit hyper and squirrely. He won't stop talking.

Our conversations go a little something like this:

What if my name was Eugene?
- Okay...
I guess I would live on a ship.
- What?
Because I like sailing and throwing up.
- Huh.
Remember Stuart Little.
- Yeah.
It's about a mouse. If I were a mouse, I would scare you.
- Okay.
Now, I will do a coin trick.

Annnnnnnnnnd, scene.