What's Lurking in Bubba's Closet

As most of you know, I'm preparing to move to Atlanta, Georgia. I've been very busy packing and trying to make the house look presentable for potential buyers. (That's a good trick with the kids and all the pets!)  Yesterday, I tackled my son's closet.  As I went through it, I discovered an old package of Swiss cheese lying on the ground. There were also some paper plates and an unopened can of tuna.  When the boy came home from school, I asked him about it.

"Bubba, what was up with the old cheese and fish in your closet?"

"Oh.  Yeah.  I forgot about that.  My friend and I were hungry so we had a picnic."

"In your closet?"

"Yeah, Mama.  It was nice and cozy in there, and nobody bothered us."

"Great.  Next time, eat in the kitchen, because if you don't, rats are going to invade your closet.  And then  monsters are going to come to eat the rats.  And then aliens are going to come to take the monsters to a distant planet. And then there's going to be an intergalactic war, and the universe is going to be destroyed.  All because you had a picnic in your closet!"

Mama Shark

I took the kids swimming yesterday. They had been begging to go ever since they saw that the pool had opened .  They hopped in while I parked myself at the edge of the pool.

As I looked around, I noticed that a garden hose was pouring water into the pool.  Another kid noticed, too.  He got a funny look in his eye, and I knew exactly what he was going to do.  He took that hose and aimed the freezing cold water right at me.  I stared at him, not moving an inch.

"Mrs. Ellis, aren't you going to yell or scream?" the kid asked. 

I gave him one of my wicked smiles.  "I don't yell at little kids.  I eat them!"

And then I charged.  You should've seen that kid try to swim away from me!  Ha!  Lesson learned:  Never mess with a Mama Shark!

Butter Beard

Last night, I took my kids to Texas Road House for dinner.  We sat down and the nice waitress brought out a basket of bread and butter.  I figured my kids would eat the bread like civilized human beings.  My daughter did.  But my son?  He was a different story.

He dipped his finger into the little container of butter and started smearing it on his face.

"Bubba, what are you doing?" I asked.

"You'll see."

He drew a nice little butter mustache above his lip.  Then a beard.  Pretty soon his face was covered in butter.

I looked at the kid.  "Bubba.  Seriously?"

Bubba giggled.

"You need to shave that off right now, Bubba!"

Bubba giggled some more and grabbed a napkin.  He curled up in the corner of the booth and started "shaving."  Soon the napkin was covered in butter.  But at least it was off his face.

"Now leave the butter alone and behave like a civilized person," I said.

He got a funny look in his eye and his finger started to make its way to the butter container.  "I wonder how you would look with a butter beard, Mama."

I grabbed the butter super fast.  "I don't know.  But you're not going to find out!"   

Movie Night

Last night I decided to chill out and have a movie night with my kids. (My husband is in Atlanta house hunting, so I figured it would be a fun thing to do with them.)  We selected, Meet Dave, with Eddie Murphy.  (The movie was hilarious - you'll have to watch it if you haven't already.)

I sat down on  the sofa. Two seconds later:  "Mama, can you make us some popcorn?"

"Sure," I said.  What's movie night without popcorn?  I got up and made some.

I sat back down.  "Mama, can you put some melted butter on this?"

I looked at my son.  "Really?  Butter is not good for you.  Can't you have it without?"

"No, Mama.  I need butter!"

I got up and melted butter and poured it over the popcorn.

Ten minutes later:  "Mama, can you get me a napkin?"

"Can't you get it yourself?"

"No, Mama.  My hands are all buttery, and you'll get mad if I get butter on the cupboards."

I sighed and got the kid a napkin.

"Mama, I need water."

"Bubba, get it yourself!"

"But I can't reach the glasses!"

I got the kid some water. "Now stop pestering me.  I want to watch this movie!"

"But Mama, I need a back rub!"

"Bubba, I'm not giving you a backrub!"

"How about a foot massage?"  Bubba shoved his little feet on my lap.

Grrr.  Now I know why I rarely watch movies!  

What I Learned at the All School Sing

I showed up yesterday at my kids' school for the All School Sing wearing my pink sunglasses, because my boy had said it was wacky sunglasses day.  Except I didn't see anyone wearing wacky sunglasses.  They were wearing tacky tourist shirts.  I asked somebody what was up with that.  "It's tacky tourist day," a nice lady said.

Oh.  Duped by my son.  Okay.  So I was the tacky tourist wearing wacky sunglasses.  No big deal!

Anyway, I found a seat and listened to the nice boys and girls sing about short vowels, and habitats, and silent e's, and the fifty states, and all the presidents.  It was a lot of information to cram into my punitive brain! 

When my kids got home they asked if I enjoyed the show.   "Yes," I said.  "I was impressed with how everybody was able to sing the fifty states in order and go through the list of presidents."

"Did you learn anything, Mom?"  my daughter asked.

"Yes.  I learned two things.  One, never believe Bubba when he says it's wacky sunglasses day, and two, I should go back to school so I can sing the names of all the presidents in order just like you!"

Wacky Sunglasses Day

My son came downstairs this morning looking like an alien from outer space.  He was wearing three pairs of glasses:  his regular glasses, a pair of sunglasses over them, and another pair on his forehead.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Going to school."

"Like that?" 

"Yeah, Mama.  It's Wacky Sunglasses day."

"Oh," I said.  "Can I wear whacky sunglasses, too?"

The boy looked at me funny.  "Sure."

So ladies and gentlemen, I now have a pair of shocking pink sunglasses over my eyeballs and a pair of black and white polka dotted glasses on my forehead.  I think I'll show up at school for the All School Sing later today just like this! 

Schultz's Bad Day

Schultz, our hundred pound German Shepherd, is a catastrophe!  Yesterday morning, when I got up, I noticed he was acting a little funny.  His ear was drooped and he was walking sideways.

"What's the matter, Schultz?  Were you out partying last night, and now you have a hangover?"

He looked at me with his soulful brown eyes.  I figured I'd better do a closer inspection of the beast.  I looked in his satellite dish ears.  The left ear looked okay, but the right ear was a mess.  I could see blood in it. 

"What did you do, Schultz? Scratch yourself?"

I tried to have another look, but he didn't want me anywhere near that ear.  I decided it would be best to have the vet look at him.

When we got there, the vet attempted to peek in his ear.  But Schultz wouldn't let him.  In fact, he tried to bite him.  The vet got out the muzzle and put it over Schultz's big snoot, which of course, further aggravated him.  Then he looked in the ear.  You should've heard Schultz yipe and whine!  Oh my gosh! 

"It's a double ear infection."  The vet announced.  Schultz's ear was loaded with blood and pus.  Totally disgusting, and totally painful!  The vet gave him a shot in the rear, ear drops, and a pill.  Schultz didn't like any of that one bit!

After Schultz was done with that torture, the vet asked if we wanted to have him micro chipped.  "Sure," said my husband.  "It's already a bad day for him, so why not just get it all over with."

The vet came out with a very long needle.  I guess because of Schultz's size, they needed a big one.  You should've heard him yipe and carry on when he was poked with that!

Afterwards, we took him home.   He immediately went into his crate.  Poor dog!  I felt terrible for him.  I guess even dogs have bad days!