Claire’s Quote of the Day: “I wish we were home and home was an IHOP.” Me too…
If I were a wildly successful psychologist I would spend all of my grant money studying the behavior of people in elevators. I have mentioned this before a few times, but it seems like every so often I get a new experience. Today, I was met by a man whom I have named Captain Cologne. Did you smell him? I sure did. WOW.
I had already entered the elevator and was headed to the 4th floor, so I pushed the button marked “4”. Simple enough, right? Captain Cologne entered a while later since these elevator doors take forever to close and I said “Hey, where ya headed?” since I was standing directly in front of the buttons. A nice gesture, right? He said “two”, stepped in front of me, pressed “2” and the placebo “Close Door” button (as the doors were already closing) and retreated to his proper corner. Well thanks buddy, I really was just curious where you were traveling to. I like to take a survey of everyone that enters the elevator and collect data on where people are traveling that day. I certainly had no intention of pressing any buttons for you, which you obviously noticed. We stopped at the 2nd floor and he exited, without even saying good-bye.
Farewell Captain Cologne, farewell.
Today we had our super exciting Customer Forum, where customers come in droves to Cobo Hall and we tell them how awesome we are and more importantly, how awesome THEY are. We have some fancy schmancy new apps for smartphones and tablets, so I had to get all of that ready to show to customers that actually care about mobile stuff. Thrilling, I know.
I didn’t actually do any of the demos because that’s someone else’s job. After we got everything setup I chit-chatted with some folks and left, but it is quite funny how much butt-kissing goes on at these things. And THAT is definitely not my thing. If this is the only time I’m going to see you, then I really don’t care what you have to say. Sorry, it’s true. I don’t have enough room in my brain to remember all of that, which is probably why I’m not in sales or a similar area to begin with.
Me: “Hey, you wanna buy this?”
That’s probably how it would go down. Not very sales-y.
No one really likes her. No one wants to be like her. The mere sight of her sends people into a tizzy. And once she is by you, forget it, you want to get away from her as quickly as possible. Everyone has seen her before and yet even with her being so disliked, she keeps coming around. Who? Old Maid, that’s who.
Claire and Luke wanted to spend their “dollars”, so we took them to the nightmarish Bive Below store where everything is $5 or less. This way we could tell them they could by “anything you want!” and pretend it is exciting. Claire picked a ball and a stuffed animal while Luke picked Angry Birds Uno and Old Maid. Cool, we have a bazillion Unos, but we don’t have an Old Maid game.
We played for the first time the other night and Luke got the Old Maid. Ok, all was well. Daddy won of course, then we played Uno (Luke won) and the kids went to bed. No issue. Tonight we started with Old Maid, but Luke didn’t want to play. We interrogated him for a while and eventually he spilled the beans. He “always got stuck with Old Maid”. You know, always, in the one time we played. Whatever. Eventually we got him to play and we were cruising along normally when suddenly, Luke picked Old Maid from Mommy’s hand. Uh oh…
Luke threw the card up in the air in disgust, turned around, buried himself into a pillow and started crying. He didn’t want to tell us why he was crying, but we all knew and couldn’t hold back our laughter. Eventually he calmed down only after Mommy hugs and me agreeing to take Old Maid from him. I did, and all was well.
She’ll be back. She always comes back.
I didn’t mean it. In fact, I thought I had taken the necessary steps to prevent it. But did I do it? Yes, yes I did…
Our grass likes to grow two different speeds. The majority of it grows very slow because it gets nothing but sun the entire day. There aren’t any trees or shadows in existence to give the lawn a break. The grass at the sides of the house grows very fast, or in everyone else’s case, normal, because it does get shade for a good part of the day. Since it is at the side of the house it occasionally allows me to skip a week or two cutting the grass because no one can really notice.
It had been a couple of weeks since I cut it and early this morning was the best time to do so because as usual, the rest of the day fills up with stuff. So even though the grass was a bit wet and long, it had to be done so off I went. I didn’t encounter any problems until I made it to the east side of the house when I was cutting up against the garage. Out came a frog (or toad, whatever) from nowhere, jumped past me, then up against the garage again. All was well, little frog guy was safe.
Then the weed trimmer came out. Knowing that there was potentially a frog up against the house, I took the downspout that I had moved and scraped along the grass where the frog was sitting after the lawnmower came through. This was an attempt to flush the frog out since I didn’t see him up against the garage anymore. I figured this would be enough of a warning to get the heck out.
Aaaaand it wasn’t. As I was trimming along the garage I saw something for a split-second, then just as quickly I saw the underside of a motionless frog, aside from a faint leg twitch. Bummer. I didn’t take a pulse so I wasn’t 100% sure if it was dead or just knocked out. And from what I could tell there weren’t any gashes or wounds, so maybe I just clocked him upside the head. Either way, I did the proper removal…scooped him up with a shovel and tossed him into the soy farm. Hopefully he woke up and is now hopping happily with his new friends.
But if not, well, rest in peace frog friend. I am sorry…
…but you were really in a stupid spot and can’t take a hint.
Over the years Bella has had a lot of toys. She prefers the plush toys over the rubbery type for one reason and one reason only. To destroy it. That is the end goal for every toy she gets. Utter destruction.
Well not exactly. She’s not out to tear it to shreds, she only wants to pull out the inside stuffing, run around with it and eventually try to eat it. After she’s played with it for some time and the stitching is starting to pull loose, she will lay down with it and “season” it by licking it like crazy. When she’s done with that she will focus on the weak part off the toy and start to open it, revealing the fluffy insides. If you catch her in the act she admits her guilt, but refuses to give up the evidence and a game of chase ensues where you have to chase her around the house. It only ends when you convince her to jump on the couch so you can grab her.
But she still won’t let go. You have to wrestle the toy from her jaws of death, then discard it. And she will not hesitate to chomp down on your fingers when you try to get it either. Yes, it’s that serious.
And tonight her octopus met its demise. R.I.P. octopus.