Cold Shower

This morning, at the crack of dawn, I dragged my son to the bus stop.  It was his first day back after summer break.  None of us were too pleased to be standing there in the dark. (Yes, the bus comes before the sun rises, which in my opinion, is absolutely ridiculous!)

We stood, patiently waiting.  But then something happened.  We heard a swish sound, and a nano second later, the sprinkler system at the entrance of our neighborhood came on, dousing us with cold water.

"What the heck!" I said, quickly dodging the sprinkler before I got even wetter.

Bubba, who wasn't nearly as wet as me, laughed.  "It's your morning shower, Mama!  Now you can start your day, clean and shiny!"

Yay.

Zoo Creatures

"Mom, can I have a sleepover?" my daughter asked.

"Sure," I said.  I figured it would be just one friend.  No problem.

It wasn't just one friend.  It was an army.  I looked at the crowd of girls and my jaw almost fell on the floor.  "You're all sleeping over?" I asked.

They nodded.

Great.

I quickly went into the kitchen to make sure I had enough food for such a crowd.  I did.  Fortunately I had a taco kit in the cupboard and some ground beef in the refrigerator.  I started cooking.

The girls went up to my daughter's room to do whatever teenagers do.

When the tacos were done, I called them down.

I don't know exactly what happened upstairs, but all I know, is that I didn't recognize the creatures that came downstairs.  Several had face masks on. (Think mud masks and creams slopped on.)  Others had mascara lines painted on their faces.  And I don't even know what to say about what they did to their hair.

"Uh, okay," I said.   "I hope you're having fun."

They sat down to eat.

Shortly after, my son, Bubba, came into the room.  He had a box on his head. It was his thinking cap (see previous post for that story).

He sat down, because he wanted a taco.

So, around my table I had a bunch of zoo creatures:  some with masks, some with painted faces, and one with a box on his head.

A pretty typical day in the life of the Mama!

The Vampire Test

It's official.  I'm a vampire.

 I've always suspected I might be, since I have very pale skin and dark hair.  And I'm always cold.  My hands are like ice.  (When I used to Scuba dive in Cozumel, the dive masters had a great nickname for me:  "La Vampira."  They suspected I was a vampire, too.)

Anyway, my daughter came up behind me and shoved an onion in my face.  I backed away from that thing quickly.

"You failed, Mom!" she said.

"Failed what?" I asked.

"The onion test.  Vampires are afraid of onions, and you are clearly afraid of onions.  Which makes you a vampire!"

Okay. There you have it.  The indisputable evidence has proven that I am a vampire.  Maybe I should go find a coffin to sleep in, now!

 

A Little Drizzle

Last night, I made rigatoni for my family.  I boiled the noodles, and was about to warm up some leftover marinara sauce when my husband came into the room.  He stood next to me and watched me do my thing. I was about to put the noodles back, and add the sauce, warming them together.

"Woman, you know you could put the noodles in a bowl while you warm up the sauce in this pot, don't you?"

I looked at him.  "Why can't I do it like this?  This is how I've done it for twenty years."

"Because it's better to warm the sauce separately.  Just add a drizzle of olive oil to the noodles so they don't stick."

Fine.  I grabbed a bottle of olive oil and poured some into the bowl with the rigatoni noodles.

My husband shook his head.  "Woman, that's not a drizzle.  That's a drench!  You poured half the bottle in there!"

"Well, at least they won't stick!" I retorted.

My husband laughed.  "What am I going to do with you?  You'd better just stick to baking, because boiling water and preparing pasta is definitely not one of your strong points!"

Right.  Next time I'm doing it my way!
 

The Towel Twist

There was another water balloon fight at my pad.  And this time the kids made a huge mess all over the kitchen floor.  When I walked in on their water balloon filling operation, my jaw dropped to the ground.  "What's going on here?"

"We're filling water balloons," one of the neighborhood kids said.

"Yes, I can see that.  But it looks like you're creating a small pond on the floor!"

The kid looked down.  "Oops.  Sorry about that, Mrs. Ellis!"

I promptly went upstairs and got a handful of towels.  I brought them downstairs and distributed them to the kids.  "Please dry up the lake!" I said.

They obliged.  But their way of doing it was very interesting.  Did any of them get down on their hands and knees to dry it up?  No.  They put the towels under their feet and started dancing.  It looked like the towel twist!

When they were done, they handed me the wet towels.  "That was fun, Mrs. Ellis.  Can we do it, again?" one kid asked.

Uh.  No!

How to Stop Eating Cake

As most of you know, there have been a lot of birthday parties at my pad.  Which means a lot of cake.  Cake is good.  But too much isn't.  My family and I have clearly had too much.  So we have devised a great plan to stop eating cake.  It goes like this:

Step 1:  Get lots of goopy frosting  on the bottom of the lid that covers the cake.  (If you have your cake in a box, get lots of goopy frosting and use it to seal the box.)

Step 2:  Cover the cake and press firmly on the lid to ensure the goopy frosting has sealed the lid to the cake dish.

Step 3:  Allow goopy frosting to dry overnight.

Step 4:  Test the next day, by attempting to lift the lid off the cake dish.  If you've done a good job, the lid will remain firmly fastened.  If not, repeat steps 1 - 3.

Step 5:  Allow cake to sit under the lid for at least one week.  By that time, it should become a completely disgusting, unappetizing blob of sugar and bacteria, that nobody in their right mind would want to ingest.


And there you have it.  After this fantastic process, you will not want to eat another piece of cake for the rest of your life.

(Your welcome!)

A Present for the Mama

"Mama," my ten-year-old son said this morning. "Happy Birthday!"

"Why thank you," I said.  "Nice of you to remember!"

"I have something for you," he announced.

"Really?"  I asked.  "What is it?"

"A masterpiece."  Bubba presented me this lovely picture:

 

"It's a portrait of you, Mama!"

"It's beautiful," I said.  "I'm going to frame it and put it in the Louvre next to the Mona Lisa!"

Then my daughter came in and modified it (with Bubba's permission), so that now looks like this:

(If you look very closely, you can see that the face in the portrait is wearing contacts, just like me.)

Aren't my kids talented?

Now I'm going to go eat this cake that my daughter made:

 
And then I'm going to eat the one my husband is making.

And then I'm going to stop eating cake, and go on a diet!