FRIDAY: A WEEK IN REVIEW
Some things I've been thinking about this morning ...
Item #1:
Yesterday, I was driving through town on my way to the post office and saw this ridiculous looking teen with his pants down to his knees (no joke!). Okay, I realize I'm really clinging to the edge of fuddy-duddy here, but I had to really fight the urge to hang my head out the window and scream a direct quote from one of my former students, "DON'T NO ONE WANT TO SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR!"
Item #2:
A fly in the mini-van ...
On Wednesday evening, my mom, sister and I traveled to a nearby town for a Pampered Chef party (I'v blogged on the party already). If only you were a fly on the interior of that mini-van, you would have heard the following conversation:
Ann: Where are you going?
Mom: To M's house.
Me: Why are you going this way?
Mom: Dad always goes this way.
Ann: This is so out of your way.
Me: Yeah, why not go M-60 to Spring Arbor Road?
Mom: I don't know that way.
Me: Let us take you.
Mom: I don't trust you two.
*** approximately 10 minutes later ***
Me: Turn right on the swervy thing.
Mom: (sqwuaking) Swervy thing?!?
As we pass by it, Me: Yeah that swervy thing.
Mom: What kind of a description is "swervy thing?"
*** approximately 5 minutes later, as we travel up the hill into M's neighborhood ***
Mom: The man that designed the roads in this place should be shot!
Ann: It's kind of like being in Kentucky in the Daniel Boone Forest .. we're never going to get out."
Me (playing out the scenario in my head out loud): 9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
Ann: (taking my lead and running with it) "We're driving around the top of Snob Knob, and we can't get off."
Mom: (trying to pretend she isn't amused) Shut up, both of you!
*** as we are getting out of the mini-van ***
Mom: Well, we're here. Not sure how we are going to get out of here.
Ann: We could spend the night ....
Item #3
I wonder how many trees I really am killing sending out all my resumes I've sent out this week ... is it more than the amount of licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
Item #4
Morning breath ... please, if you are eating, put your food down.
When I was a junior in high school, my parents got Cricket, a chihuahua/daschund mix. She was the best dog ever, second only to SADIE THE DOG, the world's best dog. Cricket had a lot of personality, but like most dogs, she had some pretty crazy habits. One of the habits that was just downright disgusting was that she LOVED my dad's morning breath. He would blow in her face in the morning, and she would sit and lick violently trying to get at the stink. One was so horrified at the display, you both laughed and fought the urge to yak on your slippered feet.
Sadie the Dog has a better reaction to morning breath. When she has lost her patience waiting for you to wake up, she will quietly come to the side of the bed, place her chin on the bed (she's getting too old to hop up on the bed and shove her snout in your face), and sniff excessively, trying to decide if I'm really sleeping or just fake sleeping. It's just too darn funny when she does this, and I have to fight the urge not to giggle, which gives me away.
This morning was no exception, so I carefully blew in her face. She took a giant sniff, backed away from the bed, and sneezed violently as she shook her head. I laughed so hard I almost wet the bed!
Item #1:
Yesterday, I was driving through town on my way to the post office and saw this ridiculous looking teen with his pants down to his knees (no joke!). Okay, I realize I'm really clinging to the edge of fuddy-duddy here, but I had to really fight the urge to hang my head out the window and scream a direct quote from one of my former students, "DON'T NO ONE WANT TO SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR!"
Item #2:
A fly in the mini-van ...
On Wednesday evening, my mom, sister and I traveled to a nearby town for a Pampered Chef party (I'v blogged on the party already). If only you were a fly on the interior of that mini-van, you would have heard the following conversation:
Ann: Where are you going?
Mom: To M's house.
Me: Why are you going this way?
Mom: Dad always goes this way.
Ann: This is so out of your way.
Me: Yeah, why not go M-60 to Spring Arbor Road?
Mom: I don't know that way.
Me: Let us take you.
Mom: I don't trust you two.
*** approximately 10 minutes later ***
Me: Turn right on the swervy thing.
Mom: (sqwuaking) Swervy thing?!?
As we pass by it, Me: Yeah that swervy thing.
Mom: What kind of a description is "swervy thing?"
*** approximately 5 minutes later, as we travel up the hill into M's neighborhood ***
Mom: The man that designed the roads in this place should be shot!
Ann: It's kind of like being in Kentucky in the Daniel Boone Forest .. we're never going to get out."
Me (playing out the scenario in my head out loud): 9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
Ann: (taking my lead and running with it) "We're driving around the top of Snob Knob, and we can't get off."
Mom: (trying to pretend she isn't amused) Shut up, both of you!
*** as we are getting out of the mini-van ***
Mom: Well, we're here. Not sure how we are going to get out of here.
Ann: We could spend the night ....
Item #3
I wonder how many trees I really am killing sending out all my resumes I've sent out this week ... is it more than the amount of licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
Item #4
Morning breath ... please, if you are eating, put your food down.
When I was a junior in high school, my parents got Cricket, a chihuahua/daschund mix. She was the best dog ever, second only to SADIE THE DOG, the world's best dog. Cricket had a lot of personality, but like most dogs, she had some pretty crazy habits. One of the habits that was just downright disgusting was that she LOVED my dad's morning breath. He would blow in her face in the morning, and she would sit and lick violently trying to get at the stink. One was so horrified at the display, you both laughed and fought the urge to yak on your slippered feet.
Sadie the Dog has a better reaction to morning breath. When she has lost her patience waiting for you to wake up, she will quietly come to the side of the bed, place her chin on the bed (she's getting too old to hop up on the bed and shove her snout in your face), and sniff excessively, trying to decide if I'm really sleeping or just fake sleeping. It's just too darn funny when she does this, and I have to fight the urge not to giggle, which gives me away.
This morning was no exception, so I carefully blew in her face. She took a giant sniff, backed away from the bed, and sneezed violently as she shook her head. I laughed so hard I almost wet the bed!
Comments