I took my son on a playdate to Borders one afternoon with another five year old boy and his aunt. The boys chose some books to take back to the cafe part of the book store where they looked at books at ate some pretzels. When they were finished looking at their books, they saw this small rack next to the cards with mini books – like a Snoopy book, a book on hugs, a book on chocolate, and a book we were given because it was a “mommy and daddy” book. They were both so proud to hand over this book. Just take a guess at which “mommy and daddy” book it was…The Karma Sutra! Not only did they bring us one, they brought us 3 copies!!
I’m running late to pick up my daughter from gymnastics class and I plead with my son to stop watching his “Dora the Explorer” video so that we can jump in the car and get his sister. “But Mommy, I want to watch my show. Can’t we take the TV with us?” I respond, “No, sorry, we can’t do that.” To which he replies, “Why? Because the plug isn’t long enough?”
Dylan is quite upset when he wakes up one morning to find a huge mosquito bite on his leg. “Mommy, it won’t stop itching! Make it stop!” he whines. “Why did the mosquito bite me?” I tell him that he was hungry and was looking for a bite to eat and his leg seemed like the perfect entree. Then I start joking with him and say, “Why don’t we name the mosquito that bit you. Let’s call him Murray the mosquito.” In my head, I start concocting a crazy tale about Murray on a frantic search for food when Dylan replies, “Mommy, you can’t name the mosquito Murray, insects don’t have names!” The kid is only four years old and yet he’s already onto me. Sheesh!
So I finally gave up my mom car, a big boxy minivan and I’m now sporting a sleek black Jetta. I’ve had it for a few months now and it’s already morphing into a new version of the mom on wheels version I cast aside. The back seat is littered with toys, water bottles are everywhere, there’s scissors and tape for presents wrapped on the fly and bird poop that desperately needs to be washed off the side view mirror if only I had time to go to the car wash. Anyway, all this leads me to what happened to my cool little Jetta last night. We were walking back to our parking spot only to find a pair of teenage boys with their drinks and sandwiches spread out on the hood of my trunk. There were at least 50 cars on the block, but these two boneheads decided that my new Jetta was the perfect spot for a late night picnic.
While one of the kids apologized profusely for putting his gatorade on our car, my daughter looked at him and said “You know, that’s very rude!” Exactly what I was thinking…thank goodness for the moxie of a seven year old.
After this incident, I decided it’s time to take my Jetta for a car wash – I need to keep my cool car intact so that no one else mistakes it for a picnic table.
I am hereby fed up with my gym. I hardly go, they charge me a gazillion dollars a month for the two times I’m there, and they just sent me a notice in the mail that they’re about to raise their prices! Meanwhile, the place is always packed to the gills with cosmetic surgery plagued women who now have the figures of teenage girls, but that’s a whole different story. I actually went to the gym this week and attempted to get on the first treadmill I saw. Unfortunately, it was broken. So I went to another one. Missing the thing-a-ma-jig that connected to the TV set so I couldn’t use that one either. Went to a third and that too was on the fritz. This gym, in a word, blows. It’s allegedly one of the best gyms out there and yet their equipment is constantly breaking down, the place is always crowded and the women are as plastic as my overused credit cards. I should cancel my membership and every so often I get up out of bed, throw on my workout clothes, determined to quit the gym once and for all. And then I think to myself, do I really want to go through the hassle of joining another gym that I won’t go to and then will find a million reasons why that gym stinks too? So I’ll keep going from time to time to this one. Maybe I’ll even get in shape while I’m there. Okay, that’s crazy talk. Let them fix the treadmill and the speaker thing and then maybe I’ll carry my end of the bargain.