Call us picky, but we seem to be having a problem. Can you see it? Let me zoom in a little closer for you:
There. Now can you see it? Or, them, I should say? In the pool? We have been chasing these ducks out of our pool all spring long (which has been a while since spring here starts early) and they haven't really gotten the hint that they are most unwelcome here. I don't mean to be inhospitable, and generally I do love to entertain guests, but most of my other guests have a rather more advanced skill of keeping their poop out of our pool and surrounding pool decks (and I do mean most. But we won't get into that story).
I have given the children the green light to do anything they'd like to scare them away once noticed (besides throw rocks - I'm not cruel) and I believe Carson's favorite method involves his Nerf gun. Our ears have become highly sensitive to the quacking of the ducks, and whenever we hear it we jump to action as if it were a war siren. Which, softly, I suppose it is.
*The cub scouts Blue and Gold Banquet this year did not go well. For me.
Because I'm weird. And those of you who know me well might be able to guess what is coming simply from the picture above.
It all started at a planning meeting a couple of weeks before the event:
Cubmaster Dave: Okay, this is what I'm going to do... I'm going to blow up a hundred blue and gold balloons, set one on each chair, and then right at the start of the meeting I'll tell everyone to take their balloon and sit on it - then I'll say, "I wanted to start off with a bang!"
Me in my head: ... ... ... ... Liiiiiiiiinds, these people don't know you well enough yet for you to display your irrational fear of balloons. Force a smile here... hurry, it's getting awkward...
Me out loud: Ohhhhh! That is such a great idea! That's so funny! Oh, everyone will just laugh! Ha! Cool! So funny...
Me in my head: Okay, you need to back off, you're sounding forced.
Me in my head: I know! But... balloons! INTENTIONALLY popping!
Me in my head: Just keep your cool.
Me in my head: Popping against METAL chairs, no less!
Me in my head: You can step out for a second when they pop.
Me in my head: METAL!
Me in my head: Don't worry about it yet.
Me in my head: The AMPLIFICATION of a hundred balloons popping against METAL!
Me in my head: Shhhhhh..... there now....
Me in my head: I don't like this idea at all.
Me in my head: I know...
Me in my head: I'm so weird.
Me in my head: I know.
I was right to panic, by the way. It was very awful. I did step outside during the 'opening bang' (and I do mean outside) but not every balloon, as you might imagine, was popped during that time... which left lingering, startling pops ringing through the gymnasium at any given second throughout the remainder of the night. Also, how inadequate is the word pop? I'm not sure what a good replacement word could be, but surely there is something a little more dramatic than pop. Anyway, I might have left right after Carson received his awards but for two reasons: I was a little bit in charge, and also had been asked to take pictures during the event. And in order to take pictures, you might imagine, I had to actually be there.
By the time the evening was wrapping up, I had enough adrenaline running through my body that it felt like little needles had replaced my blood. This caused me to become quite jittery and I jumped at the slightest sound of a footstep or a baby's cough.
Hanging on by a fraying thread, eventually I did just leave. I looked at Brian (who knew, bless his heart) and we communicated to each other without words through the chaos of the party that I was going to go. I rushed out to the car and barely shut the door before the tears started falling. TEARS, you guys!
Stupid balloons.
I'm cool now, though. Everything's just great.
*Wanna know why else everything is great? Because we have a house stocked with toilet paper.
If you don't think this is really great, then you probably don't run out of toilet paper much. Don't get me wrong... we try not to make a habit of it buuuuuuuut, it happens. And, no, I did not buy all of this toilet paper. Just one package. But one package is enough when you didn't have much to begin with.
*Whether shopping for toilet paper or milk, this little guy is fun to be with.
Mostly. He's also very difficult to reroute and if I let him out of the cart to walk through the store he gets his heart set on Things We Don't Need and it's nearly impossible to talk him out of it. So he ends up in tears and I end up the bad guy who always says no. Seriously, why can't he ask for a bright shiny apple or a stalk of celery? I might say yes to that, ya know. But Go-Gurts (what he is enraptured by in the picture above) just aren't really my thing. Sure, they're kid-delicious and quite handy... but the sugar content looks a little like 'dessert' in my book, and the price just isn't something I'm comfortable with. I'm a total hypocrite though, because I do buy packages of fruit snacks and dish them out as if they were actual fruit. Soooooo....
Anyway. On a quiet day like the one pictured above, I don't mind the meandering quite so much and I sure do love the sweetness he adds to the minutes of my days.
*Looking out my bedroom window is a favorite.
For Teek and for me. There really is so much beauty outside that window... beautiful skyscapes, jagged mountains, and happy children at play every spare minute.
The neighborhood kids come over to play in the mornings about 15-30 minutes before they all leave for school. As I'm cleaning up breakfast or tidying my bedroom I can hear them... anywhere from two to eight children playing ball, riding scooters and bikes, playing make-believe. It's one of the very best parts of my whole day. I hate to break up the party, but the clock ticks on and eventually it's time for me to sound the Time to Go or You'll Be Late for School alarm. Then, in a flash, backpacks and helmets are collected from all around the yard, and I watch them speed down the driveway for school.
After school, my kids have about 30 minutes to do their homework before the doorbell starts ringing again. I don't even answer the door. Like, ever. Because it's always for one of the kids... and they know it and are happy to run through the house to invite whoever is on the doorstep to join in the fun.
*My kids are so happy.
They have a freedom here - and I see so much fertile ground for the experiences they are having to take root and become memories that they will treasure for a lifetime.
So happy about the kids & the friends. Less happy about the ducks. What on earth do you do???
ReplyDelete