You're Welcome?

This morning in a burst of good-motherness I made crepes for breakfast. Since I had a leftover can of Thanksgiving whipped cream in the fridge I made two eyes and a smile on each of the boys' crepes and presented them with a flourish. Josey's response: "Awww thanks for putting a puking frog on my crepe Mommy!"

Lazy, But Competitive

Every night after bath Josey and Roanen are supposed to clean up the zillions of books that they have spread around their room before coming downstairs for a snack. A few nights ago I walked into their room during this time to check on their progress since it was suspiciously quiet. I found Josey sitting on the floor reading with Roanen holding on to his earlobe and peeking at the book over his shoulder. I asked whether they were planning on finishing the job and Josey got up to grab more books to put away. Roanen jumped to his feet, looked at me with a pained expression, and said, very dramatically, "It's too hard! This book is just too heavy!" He picked up a book and, bending over like it weighed 40 pounds, held it by the fingertips. "See? It's just too too heavy for me!" The book dropped out of his fingertips. "Oh! I just can't hold it because it's TOO TOO HEAVY!" Josey raised his eyebrows, bent over, picked up the book and put it on the bookshelf and Roanen immediately screamed "NO, I WANTED TO PUT THAT BOOK AWAY!", grabbed it off the shelf, then gently put it right back on the bookshelf.

6 Random Things - No Rules Version

I was tagged for a meme by my brother, only because he only has a couple of blogging friends and I was filler. I'm insulted. Just for that I'll do the meme, but I'm not going to follow the rules, just to show him. Or maybe I won't follow the rules because I actually don't know anyone who blogs so I can't tag them. Whatever. Here are my 6 random things:

1) When I was a senior in high school my best friend and I decided that instead of having our own lockers we would both just use hers because it was in closer proximity to the lockers of cute boys. Somehow we managed to fit in all our textbooks and binders, a flute, a clarinet (oh I was cool), random grooming items, plus we tossed in a toaster, kettle, tea bags, hot chocolate, a couple of mugs, some bowls, and a big box of Life cereal. It was totally pimped out in a wannabe-housewife teenaged girl kind of way. Sadly enough, a few days after we were spotted making use of our small appliances there was an announcement on the PA system that students weren't allowed to use them. Our school sucked.

2) The liquor store gives me panic attacks. I could spend hours in there looking at all the stuff, but I have to psych myself up every time I go in because I think the people that work there are looking at me and thinking I'm under 19. Last week when I had to get some wine for cooking I was looking through my purse for my ID and Russ burst my bubble by disdainfully saying "They're not going to ask you - you're, like, 30!" The age thing aside, I figure the employees also look down on me because they somehow know that I know nothing about wine or liquor and that makes me classless. Or something.

3) Sometimes I don't sort my colours and whites when laundering. Martha would definitely not approve, but I don't think Martha has ever had to IMMEDIATELY wash white, pee-soaked sheets when there is nothing else dirty but a couple of beige towels, 3 pastel washcloths and some navy blue baby clothes.

4) A spelling bee in grade 9 affected the entire course of my life. In that spelling bee I won an introductory lesson in karate, where I then met a boyfriend whose sister suggested I apply for a job at the salon she worked at, where I became friends with one of the hairstylists who brought me to a bar in the sticks where Russ was the head doorman. And the rest is history. Also, I will never misspell the word "charlatan" again.

5) When I was around 9 or 10, my brother and I would play a game at the cottage in which we'd go into my bedroom and one of us would put a sleeping bag over our entire body and try to catch the other one. Kind of like Marco Polo, without the Marcos and Polos. I always really liked the dream-like feeling I got from being the one in the sleeping bag, which I now know was most likely lack of oxygen. I often wonder how many brain cells we lost doing that. I could have gone to Yale...

6) I have a problem with the way toilets are designed these days. On the outside under the tank the ceramic (is it ceramic? I don't know.) is molded around the pipes and the look of it repulses me. They might as well have a sign back there on all toilets that says "Look here! This is the exact path your POOP takes!" Frankly, I don't care to think about poop once it's flushed, ok? When we renovated the bathroom in our old house I specifically bought the one toilet with flat sides. We then promptly sold the house and moved into one with decorative poop pipe toilets.

The End. I choose to tag NO ONE.

Mmmmm Tofurkey

After several unsuccessful attempts at veggie dogs the boys unknowingly scarfed down veggie turkey amidst exclamations of "Wow! This turkey tastes just like pepperettes!". Other than the horrible breath it gives them, my only problem is that I'm afraid that the teacher thinks I'm sending really low quality lunch meat sandwiches to school with Josey. I mean, the stuff is gray and smells like someone really tried hard to cover up the smell of chicken lips and arseholes with excessive spices. Last night I told Josey the truth, hoping his big mouth will share it with the class and no one will think I'm feeding my kids nitrate-filled crap. Because I'm sure the teacher who brings Yogos, chocolate cookies and white bread sandwiches to school will be relieved to know.

Things I Learned Yesterday About Chicken Killin'

1) Guys who kill chickens for a living reeeeeally like having to walk up a steep hill to the coop, then stumble down it carrying six flailing chickens at a time.
2) When flailing chickens are caught and carried around by the leg they squawk "OWWWWWWWWWWW!" Yes, exactly like that.
3) Chicken killers smirk when you make comments about the chickens and their "feelings". Then they zap them to death while they're hanging upside down and slit their throats right in front of you. Totally harsh.
4) Chicken killin' has a smell. Kind of a wet cooked feather/entrail/blood, blood and MORE blood smell. A smell that gets stuck in your nose, especially if you've just had to peel bloody water-soaked clothes off of little boys who danced with glee in puddles and revelled in the fun that is zapped, headless, drippy chickens and OH MY GOD GET THE SMELL AWAY.
5) SO not a good idea to come into the house after experiencing chicken killin' to a slow cooker full of chicken stew. Roanen flat out refused to eat it, and I can't really blame him.

On the schedule for today: reaching into freezing cold barrels of chickeny water for chickens that need to be weighed and bagged. In 10 degree weather. Fun!