Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Hide the Jellybeans!

Our miniature chocolate poodle has long had a serious Jones for Tootsie Pops. No other kind of sucker, just Tootsie Pops. If the kids have them in their back packs for some reason, I've watched him gingerly unzip the pack and ferret around until he finds the pop. He then takes it into the living room, on a particular couch, his "treat spot" to devour his ill-gotten goods. I've cut him major slack, since the only other thing he likes to chew is writing utensils, which the kids used to leave lying on the floor. It was Coco and his chewing, not me, who broke them of that habit. 

I think we've found a new addiction. Megan has been building this "sculpture" in the kitchen that is a couple feet high and culminates in an empty water bottle with random bits of Easter candy. She has said it's "for Mother's Day" (dear God!) and I'm not allowed near it. It fell today, could have told you that would happen, oh wait, I DID say that would happen. Jelly beans everywhere! Even I am not that much of a lazy housekeeper to ignore, but school gets out in just over an hour, so I decided to make Megan clean it up. 

Coco, however, who has never shown an interest in Jellybeans before, is delicately picking up a jellybean, taking it to his treat spot, spitting it out to inspect, sniff, and generally observe, before chewing it up with gusto. Rinse and repeat. They may be gone by the time she gets home. 

Should I make her write the dog a thank you note?

Too Much Pressure

There was a baptism at church this past Sunday.  I love when those happen.  Gorgeous, squishy, unpredictable babies with a captive audience, really, what could be better? This Sunday one of the deacons who had a part in the ceremony was doubly pleased, as it was her grandson being baptized, and she was veritably oozing joy. Oh, and there was CAKE during fellowship time! All in all, it was a nice day.

And then the godparents came up. . . I wasn't clear on the relationship, but one part of the couple was related to the dad of the squishy gorgeous baby.  I hope it was the husband, because if the poor guy was related to the wife, I pity him.  See, this woman was the kind I think should be sequestered from the rest of us.  She was wearing a lovely aqua colored dress, all good.  Then I noticed that all three of her boys had on aqua colored shorts and MATCHING aqua/blue/white plaid shirts.  The aqua in the shirts matched her aqua perfectly. Ahem.  Ok, ok, all boys were under 5, youngest about 18ish months, so matching shirts in that age range wouldn't be a huge feat.  Then the husband turned around. His dress shirt was aqua (naturally) and his tie. matched. the. plaid. of. the. boys'. shirts. Dear God!

When my TWO kids were under five, I was lucky if we got out of the house on time and alive for any occasion.  This woman not only color coordinated but actually fabric coordinated FIVE members of the family.  I'm shocked she didn't have a matching belt in plaid.  I know saying these people should be shot is strong, but maybe we should just maim them, as a warning, because NO ONE needs that kind of pressure on a lovely spring day.  Or EVER, really. It just contributes to some mom bursting into tears over tomato or chicken noodle soup (been there).  Moms should be satisfied with whatever level of perfection they can achieve, even if that perfection includes sticky countertops and clutter aplenty.

Those who think I'm being unjust, just remember, she's already BRED!