Vol. XXIII: The “This and That” Edition
(Alright, alright, I don’t have a real theme.)
The other day I heard George yelping and so I raced from the kitchen to find & assist him.
This was his predicament:
a rock and a hard place the chair and the underside of my computer desk.
On his way to wreak no end of havoc.
(I thought about leaving him there ‘til lunch.)
(But I didn’t.)
(Because I am just that nice.)
The reason George has taken to playing with the television is that it’s preferable to watching what’s on the screen.
Though with last week’s win, all was (more or less but not really) forgiven.
Speaking of George, (and in this post, when aren’t I?), he is going through a delightful phase whereupon he announces the end of his meal as follows:
1. Pick up bowl and/or plate and/or cup.
2. Pitch it.
You know that Corelle shatters, right? I mean, the stuff is made to handle lots of wear, but when it’s pitched at high velocity? Boom. Corelle Armageddon.
And then he gives me a look like,
You’re wondering, why is this lady giving her toddler Corelle?
I have no good answer for this, other than to tell you that yesterday, during my check-out at Wal-Mart, I was asked by the clerk if I wanted to actually pay for those boxes of Kleenex that I was taking from the conveyor belt and loading directly back into my cart.
Two words: Auto-pilot. (Or is that one?)
This is my brain on kids.
Okay, enough about George. No Quick Takes post would be complete without at least one Angela-ism, so here it is. With our current (Minnesota) temps at a whopping 20 degrees or so, I have needed to avail myself (often) of this handy tool:
No Minnesotan worth her weight in salt would be without an ice scraper.
Still, like so many things in my 44-year-old life, I tend to take its ergonomic utility for granted. It’s just something that’s always there in the van, alongside the broken crayons and fossilized French fries.
Angela, however, had been pondering its place in her six-year-old world, and the first time this season she saw me using it, she exclaimed, in a voice filled with wonder and relief,
“So that’s what that’s for!”
It’s cold but it’s pretty.