Yo!

Internet change. Which means my computer wasn't online for awhile. Using another computer is OK but it's like sleeping in a different bed. There are sheets and blankets and pillows, but they aren't my sheets and blankets and pillows. They feel all wrong. Hubby's computer is fast, stable and decent. But it doesn't have my bookmarks, my system or is even at my height. I missed my old thing.

Neighbor kid popped my cork the other day. Some one was obnoxiously honking their car horn. I looked outside and saw it was some kids playing around a car. The doors were open and they were chasing each other through and around the car. I ignored it. Not my car, and obviously a car they knew. The honking stopped, no big deal.

The honking started again.  I glanced out the window. One of the boys was on the hood of the car, pounding on it saying "Go! Go! I can do it, just go!" The young teenage driver backed up and started up the lane to the four lane main road. All the while with the boy clinging to the hood. I freaked, ran out on the balcony and yelled at him. Our next door neighbor was outside watching. The kid finally figured out several adults were watching. That's when a glimmer of intelligence fought it's way to his conscious. That thought fought very hard, I think it only got a tiny poke to his brain. He ran over the windshield and top of the car to jump off the trunk, pop out the wheels on his shoes and roll down hill.  I was foaming at the mouth.

This is why.

Some days I feel like the grouchy old woman in the building. My rule is if it doesn't affect me, I don't worry about it. I can't help what that boy does in school or out of my sight. The boy getting severely injured by being thrown from the hood of a car might still happen.  My son seeing it as it happens... aw, hell no! Not on my shift. 

HA! Good one!

'I'm A Blond'

I found the full length movie on Netflix. I got excited and fast forwarded to the song. With my fingers slipping on the button, youngest realized it had a close resemblance to a musical. He's all boy, hates musicals. Not only that, he is at the over dramatic stage of life. He had to plug his ears dramatically, faint every few seconds and gag during any singing that I happened to stop on.

I sing bits of this to oldest when he's doing something "blonde." Half way through the song he gives me a look that screams 'really?' This sends me into fits of laughter.

As it ends youngest is laying flat on the floor with his tongue out and off to the side. Oldest says "Oh, look, great, Youngest is now brain dead."

Worth every. single. second.

Taste it

Youngest sits on the couch. We're watching something or other.

Me: Oh, look at this smudge on my glasses. What is that? (I think somehow my ice cream sandwich got crazy on  me or someone wasn't watching where their Drumstick was going.)

Youngest with that all familiar gleam in his eye: I bet it's bird poop.

Me: Yeah? Why don't you taste it?

Youngest: No. But I'm pretty sure it's bird poop. I can smell it. *giggle*

Me: Well, if it looks like bird poop, smells like bird poo then you should taste it to make sure it tastes like bird poop. Go ahead... taaaste it.

 I would like to thank Cheech and Chong for that bit. Who knew it would come in so handy?