Friday, February 25, 2011

Random Thoughts by Jennifer Vos

The game "Axis and Allies" is truly the hardest and most ridiculous game ever. I am a smart person and I cannot understand the BOOK of instructions. I don't know why Santa thought this would be a good gift for our family. Not only is it impossible, but it comes with a billion parts that could get lost or stepped on or eaten. I wish I could take a class on how to play it.

"Mommy, guess what this owl does?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"No, you have to guess."
"No, guess again."
"I have no idea."
"NO! Mommy, guess right!"
"I really don't know."
"Ok, I'll whisper it into your ear."
What I hear in my ear: "spit...spit...spit some more...spit...a little bit more spit."
"Mommy, what did I say?"
This conversation goes on for infinity.

Yesterday, I woke up with a bump on my index finger near the knuckle and my finger was quite swollen. It hurt all day and bothered me. Finally, at bedtime, I googled pictures of "swollen finger bite bump." Big mistake. I could not sleep after looking at all the pictures of wolf spiders, recluse spiders and their horrible bites. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to sleep. This morning my finger is even more swollen and it hurts very much. I really don't know what to do. Could it be a bite? I didn't injure it. I am concerned.

I really like my kids' friends.

Our 16th wedding anniversary was on Wednesday. Hooray for us! Tonight we are going to Toledo to stay over at a hotel and go to some of our favorite places there. Thanks to Anna for staying with our kids. I'm really excited!

It bugs me when I hear a song on the radio that I really like and I'm singing along and maybe dancing a little and thinking how cool and hip I am and then I realize that the song is almost 20 years old and I am old and unhip.

Yesterday during the nightly kitchen clean-up, something got lodged in the garbage disposal. The disposal came to a grinding halt. My job is always the disposal unclogger. After a 10 minute hunt for the unclogging tool, I tried to turn the thing to unclog it but it won't turn. So then I realize that the thing clogging it is one of my new measuring spoons. It's a really nice one. Unlodging this spoon is going to require Chris' help. We work on the disposal together and somehow the entire disposal unhooks itself and ends up on the floor under the sink. Kerplunk. Dirty, stinky food water is all over the bottom of the cabinet. Ugh. We work on this spoon, finally unlodging it. It's bent to heck. So then we get the disposal hooked back up like its supposed to. Clean up all the water. Hooray. I don't know why this story seemed better before I typed it out.

Yesterday, Spencer went to a friend's house. I wasn't home when he left. He couldn't find his tennis shoes when he left, so he grabbed the closest pair he could find. They were a brand new pair of shoes that Grammy bought for Calvin but they were two sizes too big for Calvin. They still have a giant tag on them. So Spencer wore out in public a pair of shoes that are fives sizes too big for him and have a tag on them. Not just a little tag, the store display tag. Sometimes I'm surprised child protective services doesn't show up and take all the kids away.

If you iron your sheets, I can no longer be your friend.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

We just tease someone 'til she develops and eating disorder

I went to an all girl's high school that I loved loved loved. My senior year, the school had an agreement with one of our brother schools that some of their boys could come to our school and take an art class. I hated those boys. They would stand outside the art room and call out mean things to the girls walking by. I altered my route so I wouldn't have to walk past them. They were awful. It made me so mad! I loved my safe school where you might get teased by girls but never the yucky way that boys do it. I hated that they were there and taunting us. So....I wrote a letter. I wrote a letter to the editor of our newspaper outlining the reasons why these boys shouldn't be allowed to come and take the art class.

Apparently the principal at our brother school read the paper. He didn't like my article so well and I got called to our principal to explain. Seriously, I should not be in trouble! The teacher over the paper should be in trouble for allowing my letter in there if it was going to be so inflamatory. I didn't really get in trouble; just admonished to bring up complaints to the main office.

So it's over, right? Not quite.

Emily was hoping to get a Flower-gram at school on Valentine's Day. She didn't care who from. She just wanted one.

It reminded me that we had flower-grams and candy-grams at high school too. We could send them to friends at our school and boys at our brother schools. Valentine's Day my senior year I got a whole ton of candy grams from boys at one school. I was shocked! I had no boyfriend there. Who could they be from? And then I started to read them.

They were awful, horrible letters calling me a lesbian and worse because of my article in our newspaper. I just wanted to cry. It really hurt.

Now it was over.

Emily got three flower-grams on Valentine's Day and not the kind that hurt.

Happy Valentine's Day to all my sweethearts and even to those thoughtless Frannies who hurt my heart so long ago.

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