Wednesday, January 27, 2010

A friend like Ben......

"Ben, most people would turn you away
I don't listen to a word they say
They don't see you as I do
I wish they would try to
I'm sure they'd think again
If they had a friend like Ben"..... Michael Jackson

For those of you too young to know, this song is about a rat. A little beedy eyed nocturnal rodent.

According to Wikipedia the song Ben was originally written for Donnie Osmond. It is the music for the movie Willard, which is about a killer rat.

It was the first of 13 number one hits for Jackson...

The song creeped me out. Rats creep me out.

Well as much as I hate rats, I love my son. So when he asked about getting a beedy eyed creature for a pet, I cringed.

This child and I have some history concerning his pet wants. He wanted some and I didn't let him have them.

He did for a short while have a bubble eyed fish he named "Flip". Flip lived with us for two days. He went belly up for reasons unknown in the wee hours of his second night at our home.

The kid was heartbroken....

That was 11 years ago.

"You are 18 years old" my son's sister yelled at him. "You're not eleven. Eleven year olds get hamsters. Not grown men. Grown men don't get hamsters!!!"

I can't really say why I caved and agreed to him having this critter as a pet...but I did and before the sun set the night he asked he was the caretaker and loving master of a Chinese long tailed Dwarf hamster.

He didn't have to buy anything (other than the rat itself). His friend gave him a huge set up that included an awesome rat house, food and treats.

My son's girlfriend, the braver of the two, agreed to coax Hugo out of his traveling box and into his nice clean new home.

Should have been easy enough given the size difference between she and the pint sized Stewart Little look a like.

Hugo quickly asserted his authority and chomped a couple of times on her hand.

Hugo may have some issues. ADHD perhaps? He appears to not be interested in much for too long. He runs around the cage a lot and runs on his wheel almost nonstop.

He only stops long enough to stretch out on the wheel for a second or two to catch his breath and then he's off and running again.

Hugo and I may become friends...we have a lot in common. We sometimes bite the hand that feeds us, we're both pretty high strung and we spend lots of time spinnin our wheel(s).

Hugo spinnin his wheel(s)

Tuesday, January 26, 2010 was nothin.

I have this freakish character flaw that has to do with gratitude.

I like to be appreciated. I mean, I REALLY like to feel appreciated.

I cleaned my kid's room last night. Mostly because I knew she was sick and tired and that she likes to be in a clean room. She normally does a heavy cleaning every week, but this past week has left her with barely enough time to catch an appropriate amount of zzzz's. Which is probably why she is sick in the first place.

She started a new semester at school, started a new job, started a new internship and is currently working on three separate shows...whewwww, it's making me tired just typing these few details of her past week.

I went to bed before she came home last night so I didn't get the big bear hug and sweet peck on my cheek that she would usually hand me when I delight her with a love slave gift of this proportion (that room was a sty*...not to mention the huge pile of snotty tissues littering the floor, the bed,  and the dresser that I disposed of).

This morning next to my coffee pot was a note from my girl....

12 whole "Thank you's" !!!!!!


She gets me......she REALLY gets me.

*It wasn't really all that bad...I tend to like to exaggerate a bit on occasion. :-)

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Could it be...

…… Satan?????

There are things in our world and even more specifically our lives that reek of pure evil. We don’t have to ask could it be Satan. We already know.

Webster’s Dictionary explains to us that in Christianity, the devil (Satan) is of course the enemy of God, the lord of evil, and the tempter of human beings.

I am certain Satan has wormed his way into my house.

As Christians we’re taught Satan’s a crafty fellow who if allowed, will infiltrate (and possibly take over) your life.

So aside from having moments of acting “Satan like” (while suffering spells of perimenopausal irritation)…I’ve also looked Beelzebub right in the ugly mug.

And this is the vessel ....this right here is Satan

This little devil magnifies your imperfections 10 times.


Satan whispers into your ear..."Look at that hair on your chin, it has to be a foot long. And that 2x2 crater holding that black crap on the side of your nose...ewwwww"

"Pluck it"

"Pick it"

"Pick it"


Weak obedience.

The mischief maker's work is done here.

Where else will he turn up?

In a pretty dish in my fridge.

This sin goes by the name of Cinabon

One bite I tell myself, just one little bite.

Okay, half, just eat half.

Well, if you stop before you lick the plate......

All the while Beelze cheers me on.....

"10,000 calories, 549 grams of fat, (its gotta be a typo....)"

"Its so gooey and delicious, eat girl, eat".

Once again, the weak obeys.

I suffer a stomach ache. And a headache. And a general feeling of all over shit. Cinnamon is poison for my colitis.

Anybody know a good exorcist?

Friday, January 15, 2010

Believe it or not...I AM the mother.

Watched my sonny (sunny?) boy play basketball the other night through my fingers...(you know "OMG, I can't watch this" style.) They were playing their arch rivals and it was for a beginning season trophy.

My son has been suffering from a severe and devastating case of HesitatingtoshootandwhenIdonothinggoesinitis…very hard to witness.

While he’s not completely gotten over this bug, it appears as though he may be starting to recover.

He shot a couple of threes, had many assists and played some pretty good defense.

Thank God.

He left the house that morning on the list…you know what list I’m talking about.

I’d loaned him his brother’s family pass to get into a ball game. “Where is yours?” I’d asked him when he told me of his need.

“Don’t know” he said “you probably didn’t give it to me in the first place”.

Of course, I thought…my fault.

He’d borrowed the pass and now it was missing.

“I gave it back to you” he insisted.

“No you didn’t” I insisted right back.

“Yes I did”

“No you didn’t”





“KNOCK IT OFF, QUIT BICKERING” boomed the Daddio from the living room.

We both shut up.

(I hate it when he plays my dad.)

“She always looses stuff and then SHE blames me” he yells to his dad.

“The kid is full of crap…he didn’t return ANYTHING!!!” I hollered back.

“Yes I did”

“No you didn’t”

“I put it right there on the counter” he said “in the middle of one of your piles”

Daddio gets worked up when we start talking about my piles…

(While I do have a real big problem with piles, I’m not a “Hoarder” contender just yet.)

Daddio came into the kitchen to add his two cents to the argument.

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” he said, like a good husband.

“Yes, she is quite disorganized” he said “and she does lose everything…but, she’s still your mother”

“I’m sure he did give it back to you and it’s lost in a pile somewhere”,  Daddio said to me.

Thanks Daddio, for that back up…(I guess for a fat girl, I don’t sweat much, huh?)

When the kid left for school, I did a little sniffing around and found his wallet in a pair of his pants balled up on his bedroom floor.

It contained his license (Uh, kid shouldn’t that be in the car with you?), it held $10.00 (I thought you were supposed to put that in the gas tank last night?) a picture of his girlfriend and him at the prom last year and HIS BROTHER’S ATHLETIC FAMILY PASS…

Oh man, I was going to have a field day with this one.

I had to disturb the crime scene to get it downstairs to show Daddio.

“I want you to witness this” I told him….”See” I said as I pulled the card out.

“In here the whole time” I continued

I challenged Daddio to a little bet.

“You wanna bet that he’ll say I planted it? “ I offered.

Later, after the ball game he called to say he was on his way home and to ask me to dish him up some tacos.

He’d gone to Taco Bell with his teammates, but didn’t eat there.

When he came home I showed him the wallet and the pass.

“You planted it didn’t you?” he asked.

“Did not” I replied

“Yeah, you did” he shot back




“KNOCK IT OFF IN THERE YOU TWO” Daddio boomed from his lazyboy.

“no I didn’t.” I said

“yes you did” he whispered back.



Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The hungry owl......

There were so many perks to getting a small breed dog...fitting them into the kitchen sink for a weekly bath and small poop were the most enticing.

I had no intention of  falling head over heels in love with my pint sized pooch, but it happened.

And while I don't claim her on my income tax return, for all intents and purposes, she truly is a child of mine.

As much as I hate to admit this our red-haired step dog Ruby also has also been claimed or proclaimed, family.

I don't remember exactly when I first heard about owls kidnapping small dogs in our little town, but I do remember the terror I felt just hearing it.

Daddio assured me that our little dog, being of the big boned small breed variety would probably be safe from a kidnapping...

Only probably safe?

"Too heavy....I'm sure. Yes she's too heavy" he said " to be carried away".

I watched a video story on AOL the other day about a little Pomeranian pooch being abducted. The woman who rescued the dog described the kidnapper as having a wingspan that nearly covered the road, curb to curb.

Well that settled precious pup, in spite of her large girth, could find herself remade into an owl pellet!

I had a heart to heart with the small girls and explained the seriousness of the situation.

They both looked worried, it showed on their faces.

We agreed there was safety in numbers..and they used Daddio's shoes as a decoy.

Ruby refused to go out unprotected, a rope with a big knot seemed to put her at ease.

Jersey was on guard too, staying close to the deck.

 Owls are nocturnal so she was particularly jumpy at night...

Ruby, not wanting to be caught off guard is practicing her bite, and showing off her own impressive claws.

Jersey, much more timid, practices her blood curdling scream.

She gave herself a migraine and turned in early.

PS...I hope you got a giggle out of this silliness....xoxoxoo