Good Advice

"Mama," my ten-year-old son said.  "I have some good advice for you."

"Oh yeah?" I said.  "What?"

"Never jump out of an airplane that somebody is living in."

I tried not to laugh.  "Okay.  Why wouldn't you want to do that?"

He gave me the explanation.  "I saw this on the show, Ten Major Fails.  A man sky dived out of an airplane that his friend was living in, and Coke cans got stuck in his parachute.  The parachute didn't open when he jumped."

I tried to visualize this situation.  I couldn't really imagine how that would've happened, but I guess stranger things have occurred.  "So what did the guy do?" I asked.

"He activated his backup.  But that one ended up having a hole in it."

"That sounds bad," I said.

"Lucky for him, he had a burrito."

"A burrito?  How did a burrito help him?"  I couldn't imagine where this story was going.

"He used the tortilla part to cover the hole."

I raised my eyebrows and nodded.  "Did he land safely?"

Bubba shook his head.  "No.  He crashed through a glass ceiling into his high school reunion."

"You're kidding, right?"  This sounded like the biggest fish tale ever.

Bubba shook his head.  "No.  I'm serious.  He wanted to make a big entrance."

 A big entrance, indeed!

So, ladies and gentlemen, here is the profound bit of advice I got out of that conversation:  If you ever jump out of an airplane, make sure it's not one somebody is living in, don't land on a building, and make sure you have a burrito with you.  It could save your life!

    

The Last Water Balloon

My kids and their friends decided to have a water balloon fight with all of the unused balloons that had been lying around my house from all of the birthday parties.  They filled up about thirty of them and hauled them outside.  They had a great time whipping them at each other, getting wet.  Even our German Shepherd, Schultz, got in on the action.

After about twenty minutes of playing, there was only one balloon left.  And my son, Bubba, had it.  "I know who this is for," he announced.  He eyeballed his sister.

He took it in both hands and was about to launch it in her direction, when it suddenly splattered all over him.  He was soaked, because of course, it was the biggest balloon.

Everyone laughed.

"Yeah, Bubba," I said.  "We all knew who that was for.  You!"

The Tooth Fairy Returns

You may remember a couple of months ago, that my son was going to conduct an experiment regarding the tooth fairy.  He wasn't going to tell me when he lost his loose tooth.  He was just going to stick it under his pillow and see if the fairy showed up.  His theory was that I was not the tooth fairy.  Because the tooth fairy was real.

I was very concerned that I would miss this big event.  Well, I didn't have to worry.  Two nights ago, after I tucked him into bed, he came running out of his room.  "Mama, my tooth fell out!"

Good, I thought.  This is going to be easy.

We found the tooth fairy pillow, which had been tucked away for several years, and placed the tooth inside the pocket.

That night, the tooth fairy paid a visit.

The next morning, when I was making breakfast, Bubba came downstairs.  He was holding some cash in his hand.  He looked at me and grinned.  "Thanks for the money, Mama!"

So much for the tooth fairy!

World's Ugliest Birthday Cake

Yesterday was Bubba's tenth birthday.  To celebrate the occasion, I baked him a cake.  A Minecraft cake, since the boy is totally obsessed with the game.

I wasn't quite sure how to do it, but I figured it would have to have to be squarish in shape, have square pixels thingies, and have many layers that look like they had been crafted. I put on my thinking cap and baked a couple of cakes.  I cut  them up into smaller squares and made some layers.  Then I cut up chocolate candy pieces, fashioning them into square pixel looking thingies.  When I was finished, I showed my masterpiece to my son.  "What do you think?"

He looked at it and scratched his head.  "What is it?"

"Isn't it obvious?"  I asked.  "It's a mountain biome from Minecraft."  

He nodded slowly.  "Yeah. It kind of looks like that.  But I think it looks more like a mushroom biome.  You need to add some grass."

I took the kid's advice and made some green grass with the frosting.  I slopped it on at the base of the mountain.

"There.  Is that better?"  I asked.

"Yeah.  But it still looks like an epic disaster.  Here.  Let me fix it."  The kid grabbed some sugar numbers and applied them to the cake:  9 1 1.  "It's an emergency situation.  It's calling for help."

I scowled at the kid.  "Fine.  I'll go get help." I went down into the basement and found a Lego Princess Leah.  I brought her upstairs and placed her on the cake. "There.  Now it's fixed!"

(Unfortunately, Bubba did not agree.  He named my creation, "The Ugliest Cake in the World."  But it sure was good!)

Here it is:

Laundered Money

I never check the pockets of my family's pants before I throw them into the wash.  I expect them to do that.  Maybe that's expecting too much.  Yesterday, I found all of the contents of my husband's wallet strewn across the kitchen table.  And of course, everything was wet.

My husband walked into the room.  "Woman, when are you going to stop laundering money?"

I shrugged.  "Either when you start emptying your pockets, or when the police come and take me away.  Whichever comes first!"

So, ladies and gentlemen. If I suddenly disappear from the blogosphere, you know that I have been caught and thrown in the brig for all of my shenanigans!
 

Be cool. Stay in school.

I'll share one more story from the recent road trip Bubba and I took.  This one involves a little incident at a Subway restaurant (different from the one in front of the Georgia Winery).

Once again, I was overtired.  I had been driving from Atlanta to Cincinnati for over twelve hours, in the rain. (Which I can't say was a lot of fun.)  And you know, when I'm overtired, I do crazy things (see last post).

When I saw the Subway sign, I knew it was time to stop.  We ordered our meals, sat down and began to eat.  The radio was playing.  Soon I was bobbing my head to the beat.  Next song was one from the movie, Pitch Perfect.  Needless to say, I couldn't keep still.  After being cooped up in a car for twelve hours, I had to move.  Dancing was the thing to do.  I busted a move.  Pretty soon Bubba got in the groove.  We looked like a couple of lunatics dancing at our table.  I'm sure the worker behind the counter was most amused.

A couple of old ladies happened to be at the counter, ordering their meals.  They saw Bubba and me.  (They pretended not to be amused, but I could tell they were loving it.)  On their way out, one of the ladies said, "Hey kiddos, stay in school!"

I looked at Bubba.  He looked at me.

"Kiddos?"  I said.  "Did she just call me a kiddo?"

"Yeah, Mama.  You're a kiddo.  Even though you're old, you act like a kiddo.  So you should act your age, or stay in school!"

Yes, sir!

Crazy Mama

This past weekend, my son and I went up to Ohio for my dad's birthday, and for my high school 25 year class reunion.  We didn't fly.  We drove.  Which was completely nuts!  It took fourteen hours to get there, and a little over twelve to come back.

Near the end of our trip, we made a stop for dinner - at Subway.  Behind the Subway shop, was the Georgia Winery.  I knew I had to go there!

"Bubba," I said.  "We're going to make a little stop at the winery before we leave."

He looked at me funny.  "Okay, Mama.  Whatever."

Then I got a funny look in my eye.  "And do you know what else?"

"What else, Mama?"

"I'm going to play my violin over there."

He nearly choked on his sandwich.  "You are not!"

"Yep, I am."

He grinned.  "That's insane!  Mama, you're just overtired and acting immature!"

I giggled.

He giggled.

Pretty soon we were both laughing really hard.

"Okay, come on.  I'm going to play!"  I got up, went back to the car, and grabbed my violin.  I walked over to the winery, where a bunch of people were standing around in the parking lot.  And I started playing.

My son shook his head.  "Mama, if the police come and arrest you, I'm going to tell them I had nothing to do with it!"


And guess what?  I have pictures to prove it.  So you who like pictures - don't fall off your chair for this!

                            Here's the sign above the entrance of the Georgia Winery.

                              Here's me playing some lovely Bach music outside the winery.

      And as an added bonus, here's me at my reunion Mass with a few of my former classmates.  (I played for it, which is why I had the violin in the first place!)

Schultz and the Sprinklers

Schultz thinks sprinklers are evil. (For those of you who don't know, Schultz is our devious hundred pound German Shepherd.)  Every time the sprinkler system goes on, he has to launch an attack.

Yesterday was the biggest battle of all.  About seven sprinkler heads popped out of the ground and began shooting jets of water all over the grass and gardens.  Schultz didn't like that one bit.  He charged on those sprinklers and tried to bite the water that was coming out.  Of course he ended up with a wet face.  Apparently, he didn't like having a wet face, because he rolled on the ground, trying to get the water off.

The sprinklers wouldn't let up.  While he was rolling, they doused him with more water.  Which made him even madder.  He got up, ran as fast as he could to the nearest sprinkler head, and ripped it out of the ground.  Then he chomped on it.  Until it was dead.

I won't tell you what my husband said about the whole thing.  But I will say that Schultz will not be allowed anywhere near sprinklers from now on!

    

Toddler Mama

My teenage daughter is taller than me, now.  And she's very proud of this fact.  Every day she likes to stand next to me and look down at me.

"Mom, you're short!" she said.  "You look like a toddler!"

"What do you mean, 'I look like a toddler'?"  I retorted.  "You're only a half inch taller than me!"

"You're tiny," she answered.  "Have you ever seen what you look like next to Dad?"

"Yes.  I'm shorter than your dad, but I don't look like a toddler!"

"Do too!" she said.

"Do not!"  I replied.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

My daughter grinned at me. "And you're acting like one, too!"

(But she started it!)


  

Soulless Cover Reveal and Spaghetti Sliders

Before I start my story, I have to tell you about the cover reveal of my blog friend, Crystal Collier's new book, Soulless.  Isn't it pretty?  Congratulations, Crystal!  I'm looking forward to the release in October!

SOULLESS, Book 2 in the Maiden of Time trilogy

Alexia manipulated time to save the man of her dreams, and lost her best friend to red-eyed wraiths. Still grieving, she struggles to reconcile her loss with what was gained: her impending marriage. But when her wedding is destroyed by the Soulless—who then steal the only protection her people have—she’s forced to unleash her true power.

And risk losing everything.

What people are saying about this series: 

"With a completely unique plot that keeps you guessing and interested, it brings you close to the characters, sympathizing with them and understanding their trials and tribulations." --SC, Amazon reviewer

"It's clean, classy and supernaturally packed with suspense, longing, intrigue and magic." --Jill Jennings, TX

"SWOON." --Sherlyn, Mermaid with a Book Reviewer

Crystal Collier is a young adult author who pens dark fantasy, historical, and romance hybrids. She can be found practicing her brother-induced ninja skills while teaching children or madly typing about fantastic and impossible creatures. She has lived from coast to coast and now calls Florida home with her creative husband, three littles, and “friend” (a.k.a. the zombie locked in her closet). Secretly, she dreams of world domination and a bottomless supply of cheese. You can find her on her blog and Facebook, or follow her on Twitter

Now for the story:

Last night, I made spaghetti for dinner.  I put the noodles on a plate, smothered them with spaghetti sauce, and delivered them to my kids.  Except I had a little problem.  The noodles were a little slippery.  So instead of staying on the plate, they slid right off onto the table.  It was a perfect pile of noodles and sauce.

"Mom!" my daughter exclaimed.  "What the heck!"

"Uh, yeah," I said.  "You've heard of hamburger sliders?  These are spaghetti sliders.  Enjoy!" 

I walked away, leaving my kids staring at me with open mouths.  

 

Reckless Pilot

"Mama," my nine-year-old son said.  "I'm going to be an Air force pilot when I grow up."

"That's nice, Bubba," I said.  "I thought you were going to be a meteorologist. What made you change your mind?"

"I got a big idea.  Do you want to know what it is?"

I nodded.  "Sure."

"I'm going to fly over your house real low, faster than the speed of sound."

I looked at that kid and raised my eyebrows.  "Faster than the speed of sound?"

"Yep.  Three times faster!"

"Can a plane go that fast?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am.  Military planes can."

"I see.  And do you realize you will create a sonic boom, and blast all of the neighborhood window out?"

He grinned.  "That's why I want to do it!"

So, ladies and gentlemen.  In about fifteen years, if your windows are suddenly blown out by a sonic boom, you'll know who did it.  Good luck trying to catch him!

Stuck Under the Bed

Last night, after I tucked my son into bed, he requested a glass of water.  I went downstairs to get it, but when I came back upstairs, he wasn't in his bed.

Hmmm I thought. Where could he be?

I went around to the other side of the bed, and noticed a hand sticking out. "I wonder who that hand could belong to," I said.

Bubba giggled. He poked his face out and gave me a big grin.  "Would you have known I was here if you hadn't seen my hand?"

"Probably not," I said.  "I would've thought you took off to Timbuktu. Now get yourself out of there and get back into bed, please."

He tried.  But guess what? He was stuck!

"Are you getting a little big for fitting under the bed, Bubba?"

"No, Mama.  I just like it here.  I think I'll hang out like this a while."

"Are you sure you don't need help?"

He shook his head.

"Okay.  Goodnight."  I walked out of the room.

(I stood outside the door to make sure he could get out.  It took a few minutes, but he did.  I guess no more hiding under the bed for Bubba!)

A Little Too Much Hot Sauce

This morning, I made some scrambled eggs for my son.  I plopped them down on the table in front of him and sat down.

"Mama," he said.  "Could you please get me some salt, pepper, and hot sauce?"

"Sure, Bubba." I brought them out and watched as he poured a lot of hot sauce on the eggs.  I didn't say anything.

He took a bite.  Let me just say, the faces and sounds he made resembled something like a constipated gorilla.  He fanned his open mouth.  "Milk!" he gasped.

I chuckled and brought him some milk.

He gulped it down and put out the fire.

And then do you know what he did?  He added more pepper to the eggs!

"Dude," I said.  "I'm not sure that's such a great idea.  Pepper is kind of spicy.  Why don't you just scrape off the hot sauce?"

He shook his head.  "Pepper will neutralize the hot sauce."

"Whatever you say, Bubba."  I watched him take another bite.

Tears nearly came out of his eyes as the pepper and hot sauce lit his mouth on fire.

He gulped down more milk and looked at me sheepishly.  "Maybe you were right, Mama."

Uh huh.  Mamas are always right!

Hunger Signs

Lately, I've been out of the house quite a bit, hanging with musician friends and playing chamber music.  My son has not been pleased about this.

When I was about to walk out the door yesterday, he scowled at me.  "Mama, why do you have to go, again?  I'm going to starve!"

I shook my head.  "Bubba, I happen to like playing with my musician friends.  You're not going to starve.  Your dad is here, and so is your sister.  And I'm sure you are perfectly capable of making your own peanut butter and jelly sandwich if they don't do it for you."

"They never feed me.  And I'm a terrible PBJ maker."  He paused for a moment.  "And do you know what else?"

"What else, Bubba?"

"I'm already experiencing the hunger signs."

I tried not to laugh.  "Hunger signs?  Tell me about the hunger signs."

"First, your tummy makes funny noises.  Then it starts feeling sick.  And if you tap on it, it sounds hollow."  He pointed to his tummy.  "Tap on it, Mama."

I did.  "Sounds fine to me, Bubba."

"No, Mama.  You didn't do it right."  He tapped again.  "It's definitely getting hollow.  It's a hunger sign!"

I shook my head and grabbed a banana.  "Okay, Bubba.  Eat this.  It'll fix your hunger sign."

He stared at me in disbelief as I shoved it into his hand, grabbed my violin and viola, and headed out the door.

(I'm such a bad Mama!)      

Schultz's Night at the Movies

Last night was movie night.  As is the custom, we popped some popcorn and plopped down on the sofa in front of the TV.  Our hundred pound German Shepherd, Schultz, joined us.  He lay quietly in front of the screen and watched us watch the idiot box.

About a half hour into the movie, we heard firecrackers.  They sounded like they were being shot off in our driveway.  Of course we had to investigate.  We got up and went outside.

Our neighbors were shooting off some fireworks in the cul-de-sac in front of our house.  We watched the spectacle for a little while, and then went inside.

That's when we found a big surprise.  Schultz decided he wanted some popcorn.  He had knocked the bowl off the table and was happily munching away.

"Schultz!" my husband bellowed.

Schultz stopped munching and slinked off to the corner.  So much for enjoying movie night with the rest of the pack!

The Great Human Migration

My son and I went to go see the fireworks on the fourth of July.  Of course we had to park a million miles away and walk to the site.  As expected, there were lots of people doing the same thing.  Pretty soon we encountered a traffic jam of Homo sapiens.  We plodded along at about one mile an hour.

"Moo," I said.

Bubba looked at me.  "Moo?"

"Yeah, Bubba, we're like a herd of cattle."

Bubba shook his head.  "No, Mama.  We're not a herd of cattle.  Do you know what this is?"

"I have no idea," I said.

"This is the great human migration.  Once a year, on this very special night, humans migrate to see beautiful lights in the sky.  Then they return to their homes.  Isn't that awesome, Mama?"

Uh, yeah.  It was a delight to be a part of such an awe-inspiring event!

Moo.

Old Man Bubba

Yesterday, I saw a strange sight.  My nine-year-old son, Bubba was hobbling around with a cane.

"Dude," I said.  "What's up with the cane?"

"I bumped into something and hurt my leg," he replied.

"I'm sorry to hear that,"  I said. "But why do you need a cane?"

"Because I'm an old man.  Pretty soon I'll be ten, which means it'll take me longer to heal.  I'm not as young as I used to be!"



Happy Fourth of July to all of my American friends!

Mama's New Entertaining Look

I was reading my son a book before I tucked him into bed last night.  He interrupted me with this comment:  "Mama, you need an entertaining new look."

I stopped and glanced up.  "What are you talking about?  Am I not interesting enough?"

The boy shook his head.  "No, Mama."  He spied a sheet of stick-on mustaches sitting on his desk.  "I know what will make you look better."

He peeled off a black mustache and affixed it to my face. "There.  That's perfect."

I continued reading with this thing tickling my nose.

Bubba started giggling.

I wrinkled my nose, trying not to sneeze.

Bubba giggled some more.

I attempted to read, but was interrupted by Bubba's fit of laughter.  "Bubba," I said.  "Are you going to listen to this?"

"I'm trying to, Mama.  But your new look is so entertaining, I can't focus on the story!"

Mama in the Sky Zone

Yesterday, I took my son to an indoor trampoline place - Sky Zone.  Basically, the whole floor is a giant trampoline.  You stay in your square (or rectangle) and bounce around to your heart's content.  (There's trampoline basketball and dodge ball, too.) I figured it would be a good way to burn off some energy.

Of course, I couldn't let my son have all the fun.  I paid to bounce, too - for an entire hour.  I got in my square and started jumping.

Bubba, who was in the square next to mine, looked at me and laughed.  "Mama,  you have a silly smile on your face."

"Uh huh," I said.  "This is fun!"

Then a kid,who was probably in his twenties, next to me, did this mega show off move, where he jumped so high, he almost touched the ceiling.

Of course Mama wasn't going to be outdone by some twenty-year-old.  I took a massive power leap and launched myself upward.  Do you have any idea of what it is like to jump so high, that you're closer to the ceiling than you are to the floor?  And to have no sense of rhythm as to when your feet are going to come back down?  Let's just say it's a massive adrenaline rush.  Totally out of control scary!

My son stared at me when I came down.  "How did you do that, Mama? You were in the Sky Zone!"


(It was a cool place, but my old back is telling me today, that leaping to the Sky Zone probably wasn't a good idea.  The landing was a bit jarring!  Maybe I should act my age.  Nah . . .   It's more fun to pretend I'm still a kid!)
 

Angry Birds

Yesterday, I was wandering around my yard, pulling weeds and vines that threatened to overrun the landscaping.  As I came to a bush on the side of my garage, I noticed a particularly nasty-looking vine sprouting off the top, winding all through the foliage.  That's got to go, I thought.

With my handy-dandy rose pruning gloves, I grabbed that thorny thing and began yanking it out of there.

Two seconds later, I heard quite a commotion.  I looked up in time to see two very angry birds in position to dive bomb me.  I grabbed the vine and retreated to the far side of the bush.  That wasn't good enough.  The birds squawked and swooped down on me.

I dropped the vine and bolted for the garage before those angry creatures could peck my eyeballs out.  They didn't follow me, but they parked themselves nearby, still squawking, and keeping an eye on me.

I really don't think they were protecting the vine.  But I do believe I must've been awfully close to their nest.  All I know, is that is one Mama (and Papa) I don't want to make angry ever again!