Mama's Hair Accessory

I had stepped outside to water a plant that was on the porch. When I came back in, my daughter looked at me kind of funny. She came up to me and started messing with my hair. Then she jumped back and screamed.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"There's a bug in your hair!"

I ran my fingers through my hair to get whatever it was out.

Sure enough, there was a bug. A cute little lightning bug. I flicked it onto the floor.

"You screamed for that?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Don't be scared. It's just my new hair accessory," I said. "It'll make me look real pretty at night when it lights up!"



Before I  go, I want to let you all know that I'm on my month-long book tour for Ten Zany Birds. My first stop is a review at Mrs. Mommy Booknerd.  If you'd like to read it, please stop by!

The Dissection

This story might be a little disturbing for some readers. You've been warned.

Yesterday, my son's science class participated in some dissections. The creatures viewed were an octopus, a squid, and a shark. The octopus and squid were pretty much what you'd expect - blobs of goop. But the shark had a surprise inside:  six babies.

"It had what inside?" I asked, completely appalled that they would kill a pregnant shark for this observation.

"Six babies," he repeated. "They were in little sacs."

This made me sick. "What did you do with them?"

"Nothing. My friend wanted to take them home, but the teacher wouldn't let him."

At least they didn't dissect them.

Is it just me, or do any of you find it appalling that a pregnant creature would be used in a dissection class?


Now on a completely different note, Rita commented on my last post that she would have liked to have seen a picture of me dressed as Cleopatra. So here you go, Rita - just for you! (The young lady is one of my piano students. We had a Halloween recital, and we all dressed up.)

Question of the Month, and The Real Scary House

It's time for question of the month, hosted by Michael D'Agostino. The question is:  Are you an extravert or introvert?  I am an introvert. I think a lot of writers are. Although I enjoy being with people, and have no problem with public speaking or performing, I need time alone to recharge.  I am quite comfortable with my own thoughts, and I can go long periods of time without saying a word (sometimes much to the frustration of my family!). What are you? Introvert or extravert?

Now for the story:

A few days ago, I mentioned that my house was the scariest in the neighborhood. It turns out, I was wrong. There's another house with inhabitants way scarier than mine!

Last night, I went Trick or Treating with my kids and their friends. On the way back to our house, the kids decided they wanted to check out a residence on the main road that was set far back in the woods.

"I don't know about that," I said. "It looks a little off the beaten trail."

They didn't care. We trekked through the dark woods on the gravel path up to the front door and knocked. The door opened. I swear, the woman who answered looked just like a witch. And she wasn't even wearing a costume.

"Why, hello, dearies," she said. "We don't get many visitors here on Halloween."

I could see why. And "we"? There was another witch?

I looked over the tops of the kids' heads. There was another creature. It wasn't a witch. It was a man. And he looked just like a troll.

The woman continued. "We don't have candy. But we have cookies. Would you dearies like some cookies?"

I cringed.

The woman put some cookies in Ziploc bags and gave them to our clan.  She smiled sweetly, or at least as sweetly as a witch can smile, and said, "I hope you dearies are protected by an adult."

"They are," I said, stepping forward in my Cleopatra costume.

"Oh, good," she said. "You have to be careful!"

I smiled sweetly, or at least as sweetly as Cleopatra can smile, and said, "Of course!"

As soon as we were out of the woods, we breathed a sigh of relief.  "You will not eat those cookies!" I instructed.

They didn't!


    

The Problem with Pacifiers

When my kids were babies, they never liked pacifiers. This wasn't a huge problem, because I never had to deal with weaning them from the pacifier habit. I never understood, though, why they disliked them so much.

Fifteen years later, I have my answer.

My teenaged daughter is going out trick-or-treating as a baby. She has a flannel onesie and a pacifier that she will wear on a ribbon around her neck. The other day, while I was helping her with her homework, she put the pacifier in her mouth and quickly spit it out. Obviously, she still had a strong distaste for it.

"You don't like pacifiers?" I asked.

She shook her head and made a face. "They're disgusting. They're soft and rubbery, and they taste like chemicals."

Mystery solved. My big baby used her words to inform us that pacifiers have a terrible texture and taste bad. Makes me wonder why most babies like them so much.     

The Boo Crew

It's that time of year, again. Time to going booing. For those of you who don't know, it's a Halloween tradition. Basically,  you put together containers of treats and terrorize your neighbors. You go out after dark, ring  their doorbells, leave the treats, and run. The idea is not to get caught.

My kids and I have done this for about five years. Every year, it's a new adventure. Last year, we were lucky not to get picked up by the policeman who was patrolling the neighborhood. It was a close call!

This year's adventure involved the weather. It was raining.

"Bubba," I said. "Let's take the car. I don't feel like getting wet."

My son shook his head. "We can't take the car. They'll see us."

"But it's dark," I said. "They're not going to know who it is!"

He disagreed. "I'm sure they'll be able to track down the license plates."

Right.

After a long discussion, I finally agreed to go booing on foot. I, of course, had an umbrella, because I am such a wise Mama. The boy refused to take an umbrella, because umbrellas can be spotted easily.

We accomplished the mission, barely escaping detection by the residents of the first house we visited. When we returned to our home, I looked at my boy. He was drenched.

"Was it worth it?" I asked.

He gave me a big grin. "That was the best booing ever!" 

  

Phone Warmer

This morning, my teenaged daughter was frantically looking for her phone.

"Why don't you call it and see if you can locate it?" I suggested.

That's what she did.

Guess where it was?

Under our hundred pound German Shepherd's butt. He was sitting on it, and even when it rang, he didn't budge. I guess he wanted to keep it warm! 

Crazy Driver

My teenaged daughter will be learning how to drive soon. I'm not afraid of too many things, but this idea really scares me!

The other day she came up to me and said, "Mom, when I learn to drive, I'm going to use your car first. It's old, so it won't matter if I crash it."

I have her the evil eye. "You are not crashing my car. Period!"

She continued. "Then I'll use Dad's and crash his."

"You will do no such thing, because if you do, you'll be grounded for life and never drive again!"

(Which might actually keep her out of a lot of trouble!)

(If you're worried about my daughter, she's a very responsible young lady. I highly doubt she will ever crash our cars.)