Expiration Dates

My eleven-year-old daughter has had a really nasty cold.  Last night, I told her to rub a little Vicks VapoRub on her chest to help her breathe.  She picked up the container and examined it.

"Mom, this expired in 2002.  It's ten years old."

I took the container and looked at it.  "No, it's not ten years old.  It's eleven years old!"

"Mom, this thing is older than me!"

"Wrong, again girlfriend.  You are six months older.  I think you need to work on your math skills."

She looked at me funny.  "And you need to work on your expiration date reading skills!"

Sunshine Award and Guest Blog Post

Today, I'm a guest over at Brian Hayden's Blog where I wrote an article about how to write an excellent query letter.  If you'd like to read it, please stop by.









In other news, I was nominated for the Sunshine award by Deanie Humphrys-Dunne.  Thank you so much, Deanie!  Deanie is a very nice lady, so be sure to stop by and say hello to her. 

I've received this award before, but since many of you are a little bit newer to my site, I'll participate so you can get to know more about me.  The rules are, include the logo on your page, thank and link the person who nominated you, answer 10 questions about yourself, and then nominate 10 more bloggers.

Here we go.  Ten things about myself:

1.  My favorite color:  Red
2.  My favorite food:  watermelon
3.  My least favorite food:  sauerkraut.  I can't stand the stuff!
4.  The most stupid thing I've ever done:  Walked through a train tunnel in Germany when a train was coming.  I really can't believe I'm still alive!
5.  Little known fact about myself:  I'm ambidextrous
6.  Something on my bucket list:  Skydiving.  I know I'm a little crazy, but jumping out of an airplane sounds fun!
7.  Thing I like doing the most:  Playing and teaching violin, viola, and piano.  It's my passion.
8.  Number of times I've moved in my life:  Nine.  I'm getting ready for move number 10 to Atlanta, Georgia.
9.  Favorite place in the world:  That's a tough one.  For SCUBA diving, I'd say Cozumel, Mexico, but for an all-time general favorite place, I'd say Paris, France.
10.  Former occupation:  I was a PADI Scuba diving instructor.  I had a lot of fun doing it, and I even got to feed sharks. (I guess that goes along with wanting to jump out of an airplane.)


As for the other sunshiny bloggers, I'm not going to follow the rules, because I'm the Mom and I make up my own rules!  And besides, I think you're all sunshiny so I can't just pick ten!  If you want this pretty flower to put on your page, then go ahead and take it and use my ten questions (with your own answers, of course!)

Thanks again, Deanie!

Cat Drama

We had a little excitement at my pad yesterday. It involved some cats and some dogs.  I bet you can't guess which ones.

I looked out my front window and noticed an unfamiliar cat sitting on my front porch.  I opened the door, thinking the cat would get scared and run off, because you know how scary I can be!  But no.  That cat thought he was going to walk into my house and make himself at home.

"Excuse me," I said.  "This isn't your house.  And Bootsy is going to get a little upset that you're here."  (Bootsy is my cat, in case you didn't know.)

As soon as I had uttered those words, Bootsy showed up.  As promised, he was not happy.  His panties were all in a bunch upon seeing the visitor.  He arched his back and hissed.  The other cat reciprocated.  Bootsy charged.  The cat ran off - right into the backyard where Schultz was patrolling. (Schultz is our German Shepherd.) Schultz went nuts when he saw the new cat!  He went into full chase mode, barking his head off.  He chased the cat into our neighbor's yard -where two more dogs awaited.  One of which is the infamous cat killer!

I have never seen a cat move so fast!  Somehow, he managed to escape the manic beasts.  He ran as fast as he could across the street, behind some houses, never to be seen again.

Afterwards, the dogs wagged their tails and Bootsy sat in the driveway, calmly licking his paws.  Well done, boys!   

Where Jelly Comes From

"Mama," my eight-year-old son said.  "Where does jelly come from?"

Since my brain was a little fried from attempting to write synopsis's for five of my manuscripts, I gave him this brilliant answer:  "Jelly comes from jelly trees.  Four times a year gobs of jelly squirt out and are collected by Keebler elves. (Keebler is a brand of cookies, and elves are their mascot, in case you're not from the USA.)  The elves put the jelly in jars, ship them to your local supermarket, and then you buy it.  Okay?"

Bubba gave me a sideways look.  "Mama, that's not right."

"Why isn't that right?"

"Because Keebler has nothing to do with jelly.  It's Smuckers (a jelly-making company in the USA)."

Oh.  I had to think quickly.  "Well, Keebler sells the rights to Smuckers, so Smuckers can put its name on the label.  Then everybody lives happily ever after.  The end."

Bubba laughed.  "Mama, you're crazy!"

I can't argue with that!

Dirty Dog

We've had a lot of rain here in Cincinnati.  And I bet you can guess what that means.  Mud.  Lot's of it!

I made the huge mistake of letting our hundred pound German Shepherd outside, unsupervised.  I figured he'd just do his business, sniff around, and come back inside.  Wrong!  He found the biggest mud puddle and ran back and forth through that thing.  When he showed up at the back door, he was absolutely filthy.

"Schultz!"  I hollered.  He cocked his head and looked at me.  Then he let his big pink tongue roll out of his mouth and gave me a big doggy grin.

I just shook my head.

Schultz was so dirty, you couldn't even tell that he had red and tan fur.  He looked like a completely black dog.  I let him dry off in his crate before I hauled him upstairs for a bath.  Of course he just had to shake himself, plastering the walls with mud.

After I had gotten the water ready in the tub, I released him from his crate.  "Go have a bath," I said.

He charged upstairs, leaving behind a trail of muddy footprints all over the floor and carpet.  Then he jumped into the tub.  But he didn't stay there.  He jumped out and ran through the hall, leaving even muddier tracks. 

"Schultz, get in the tub!"  I yelled.

He shook more mud onto the walls and went back into the tub.  I quickly closed the door.

Do you know what it's like to wash a hundred pound male German Shepherd?  No?  Well, you probably don't want to know.   Let's just say, when I was finished, I needed a bath, because I was covered in mud!

After I had washed the creature, I surveyed the mess.  The tub was black.  The walls were covered with mud splashes, the toilet was covered with mud splashes.  And of course the walls and carpet were covered with mud.

Now, most of you know I'm in the process of trying to sell my house.  Does anybody out there want to buy my house which is now plastered with mud and dog hair?

Ugh!

X-ray Vision

Last night, my eight-year-old son was supposed to do some star gazing for a school project.  Unfortunately, the weather was not very cooperative.  A thick blanket of clouds covered the sky.

"Bubba," I said.  "You're not going to be able to see anything tonight."

He stared up at the sky.  "Oh yes I can, Mama.  I have x-ray vision!"

I laughed at the  little man.  "Really?"

"Yeah."  He pointed to a spot over the trees.  "The moon is right over there," he said.

I looked at the spot.  I didn't see anything.  "Are you sure about that?"

He nodded.  "Just keep watching."

I did.  And guess what?  The clouds cleared for a brief nanosecond, and the moon appeared right where he said it would.

I guess the kid really does have x-ray vision! 

Wimpy Mama

Yesterday, I took my kids to the dance studio.  My daughter, of course, had the lessons.  My son had to come along for the ride.  And let me tell you, he absolutely hates sitting around!  So what did he do?  He went outside on the parking lot and started doing push-ups and sit ups.

"Bubba, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Exercising."

I guess that was pretty obvious.  "Okay.  Why are you exercising on the hard asphalt?"

"I'm trying to get everybody else to come out and exercise with me."

I looked at the kid.  "Bubba, nobody is going to want to come out and do sit ups and push-ups in the middle of a parking lot!"

I guess I was wrong.  Two seconds later, another little boy and his dad came out.  The boy got on the ground next to Bubba and started doing push-ups.

The dad and I just looked at each other and shook our heads.

"Mama, you should do push-ups and sit ups, too!"

"No thank you," I said.

My boy looked at his new friend and said. "My Mama is a wimp!"

So there you have it ladies and gentlemen.  I am now officially a wimp!