Last night Paige and I went to the local mall to purchase, of all things, a cookie. My nephew's birthday is coming up, and he wanted nothing more than one of those Great American Cookie Company cookies. And being an obliging auntie, I got him one.
We parked outside a big department store, and Paige asked if we could stop and look at "the pretty things" on our way out. She ooooh'd and aaaaahhh'd at the jewelry and held up various (and hideous) articles of clothing while exclaiming "momma, you NEED this!".
Gosh she's cute.
In the midst of all of Paige's declarations, I stopped to examine a blouse. Then a watch. I wasn't really paying attention to my little 4-year-old stylist. Which is why I wasn't immediatley alarmed when she yelled "let's go look at the purses!". I glanced up just in time to see her standing near a rack of NOT PURSES. They were gigantic BRAZIERS.
And do you know what she said? "Momma, where are the zippers?".
Poor baby. She's used to seeing her momma's bras. Which have, ahem, significantly less storage capacity than the "purses" she was eyeing.
Look, if your boy is anything like mine, gift-giving becomes progressively harder with each Birthday. Gone are the days when a multi-colored train is sufficient. Now, it seems that if the gift does not require batteries or a power switch, it's simply not worth giving.
Well, except for Legos.
For the past few years William has been (as all boys are, it seems) obsessed with Legos. At first, he was interested ONLY in the finished product. Which meant that daddy was intimately involved in the building process. But as the years have gone by, William has gotten more and more interested in the construction. Nowadays, there is nothing he loves more than a "complicated build" involving hours (sometimes days) of careful step-by-step direction following.
But here's the rub: Legos - especially the ones that are considered a "complicated build" - are SO EXPENSIVE. A moderately priced set can cost $50, and most are much more than THAT.
Which is why I was THRILLED when William received Snap Circuits, Jr. in the mail from his Uncle Bradley:
It's a set of circuits and switches that, when assembled correctly, can produce all sorts of fun things. One assembly makes a fan whir. Another makes a bell whistle. Some switches control a series of lights. All of these things require a "complicated build", and in order to move on to the next project, you have to carefully disassemble and start over.
It's much like Legos in that it requires patent, careful direction following, but without a zillion little pieces. (Anyone who has stepped on a Lego in the middle of the night will understand my glee).
Remember last week when I told you about the hawk that FLEW INTO THE POOL?
Yeah. *That* was weird.
And, obviously a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I mean, a hawk flies into the pool, and then voluntarily lets my mother hold it for several minutes? Crazy. That never happens.
Which is why I gasped and clutched my pearls when I saw THIS on Facebook the very next day:
my mind is blown.
Here's the freaky part: this dude? Who posted this to Facebook? LIVES EIGHTY MILES FROM MY MOTHER.
Would someone please explain this to me? Is this the Apocalypse?
Or perhaps this particular breed of bird is, um, thirsty? Longing to swim? In need of human companionship?
I'm out of ideas.
**According to this dude's Facebook stream, that bird (which is identical to the bird my mother rescued) is not actually a hawk. It's something called a Mississippi Kite. And this concludes the Random Bird Fact portion of the day. The End.
Oh my goodness, the most INCREDIBLE thing happened today!
We were swimming at my mom's house. There were 5 adults and 3 kids in the pool. Out of nowhere, a HAWK landed five feet away from the edge of the pool. And then it just stood there. Staring at all of us. And we, being agog at this intrusion from a WILD ANIMAL, stared right back.
And he just kept standing there. Staring at us. 5 minutes passed. Then 10.
After a while, we started to think something was wrong with him (or her. I didn't check for fear of having my eyes pecked out). Perhaps he was injured? Or else ill? Or maybe just starving, or thirsty (the heat in Oklahoma as been record-breaking). And then someone suggested that this hawk was small. And sort of fuzzy. Hey! It was a baby! Perhaps just recently from its nest! And, God bless him, his maiden voyage took him within inches of HUMANS. Surely his hawk-mother told him to stay away from HUMANS! (Children, they never listen.)
And this hawk didn't seem the least bit scared.
After a while the children resumed splashing and carrying on, and the hawk didn't seem bothered. He just watched us.
Until.
He up and FLEW INTO THE POOL! Well, sort of. He flew near my mother, landed on the edge of the pool, lost his footing, and fell in.
So my mother, being a mother, swam over and carefully picked him up and sat him back on dry land. Except, instead of flying away, he just stood there, latched on to mom's hand. He stood there for a good 2 minutes just staring at her. IT. WAS. UNBELIEVABLE. I don't think any of us breathed.
And then, just like that, he flew away.
sorry. crummy iphone pics. WHERE is my good camera when I need it?
We were all agog. Mother claimed she was the "bird whisperer". I reasoned that the bird flew toward my mother because it was missing its OWN mother.
Dave, however, said it was most-likely attracted to the person with the ugliest hat.
I told him he'd better shut-up or he wouldn't be invited to Thanksgiving.
One day, maybe as much as a year ago, I was wandering through The Walmarts when I happened upon the craft aisle. There I discovered, for only $3.50, a box full of all the supplies for making friendship bracelets. On a whim, I bought it.
And then it sat on a shelf in my pantry for MONTHS. Because? Who has time for such things? Certainly not me.
But then, when I was packing for our trip to the lake a few weeks ago, I threw the box into my luggage on the off-chance that I'd have some down time in which to dedicate to my "craft".
However, I learned quickly that the promised "easy" instructions were beyond me. But an Internet search and a few youtube.com videos set me straight.
.
Before the end of the weekend, everyone in our group was sporting a new bracelet. And I even snookered my sister-in-law into crafting with me.
The problem is that, now, weeks later, I'm still addicted to making these stupid things. Which means I'm going to need to make a LOT more friends.
Look, I realize that I live in Oklahoma. And living in Oklahoma means that the month of August is going to be hot. That's just how it is in Oklahoma. Why complain? It is what it is, right?
But this? This heat we're experiencing? Yeah. It's beyond hot. "Hot" and "Heat" don't cut it for a day like today. We need to invent a new word for it. "Searing" doesn't seem bold enough. Something like "devilwharf" or "sizzlesnoot" or "dragonbritches". The heat here beckons an entirely new vocabulary.
And in that vein, we also need a word that represents the emotional toll this Sizzlesnoot (I like that one best I think) takes on us. Something like "hotsanity", and "hellicious". Because, y'all? I'm starting to feel both angry (at the AIR, because THAT'S productive), and crazy.
Today the actual air temperature (not the heat index, mind you) was 112 degrees.
Let's pause here while you re-read that up there. I said ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE ACTUAL DEGREES OF SIZZLESNOOTS.
My air conditioner has been running non-stop for ten straight days. Non-stop. All day. All night. It runs and runs and runs. I worry about it. How much more can it take before it waves a little white flag and surrenders? And then what will I do? I will die. That's what. I will burst into flames and die.
And this concludes my Rant Against Nature.
The End.
Ok, I'm not *quite* done with my rant. Because, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS? It's 9:30pm and it's STILL 100 degrees outside.
Today, I attended a business meeting. Which is, honestly, sort of hilarious since - up until a few months ago - I was spending my days wiping bottoms. Me? At a "business meeting"? HAHAHA!
After the meeting, one of my co-workers (who was in from out-of-town to attend the meeting) asked for a ride to the airport. "No problem!", I said. "The airport is on my way home!" And I began to help her with her luggage.
Oh gosh, y'all, then I opened my hatchback and there it was: Paige's POTTY.
WHAT KIND OF BUSINESS WOMAN DRIVES AROUND WITH A TOILET IN HER CAR?!?
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