Hoooooo's There?

The fifth owl has shown up and now the painting is complete.  And I'm pretty sure these guys have some big plans up their sleeves.


Reminds me of the wide-eyed looks I got when I opened my kid's bedroom door last night.  He and several friends were all lined up on his bed, munching on popcorn, watching a "scary" movie.  And when they say a movie is scary, it's at least ten times scarier than "The Exorcist" was for me...and that was unbelievably scary!  Last night the plan was that everyone was going home after the movie to stay at their own houses.

But...when I got up this morning and peeked in his room, all of the boys were crashed out all over the place, curled up in each of their individual blankets.  Thinking that ten times scarier translated to way too scary to walk home in the dark.

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Right up Front

Today I had to wake the kid up way earlier than he wanted to be awakened.  He grogged his way to the car.  And he was holding a blankie.  Yup, a blankie.  A bright red blankie.  And with that red blankie he covered himself from head to toe.  So down the highway I drove with my big red blob beside me...snoring.

And we made it all the way down the highway without attracting even the tiniest bit of attention.  And ya know what?  When we were at a light we were passed by another mom with another blob kid in her font seat.  Her blob was blue.

Thinking blankie blobs are the new normal.


And here's the third owl to join my layered painting...front and center!

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My Kids still say the Darndest Things

When I was in college, about twenty-five years ago, I had this boyfriend.  One day he was in the kitchen and I needed help with something.  I can't for the life of me remember what, but when I asked him for help he said, "I can't, I'm cooking."  Now, had he had three pots going at once and a spoon in each hand, I would've understood.  But what was happening is that he was standing by the microwave...watching something get reheated...that still had a couple minutes of time left.  And, no, that isn't the reason we broke up.

But I was reminded of that long-ago event a few days ago when I asked my kid (who will remain unspecified) to make a phone call for me.

Me:  "Hey, will you call dad and let him know I'm actually cooking a meal for us tonight?"  (Yup, homemaker of the year I am not.)

One of my kids:  "I can't right now, I'm only wearing my underwear."


Um...huh?


While my family doesn't benefit much from my culinary skills, I absolutely benefit in a HUGE way from their awesome sense of humor. 

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Can you take the heat?

The other day the boys and I were challenging each other to eat pickled jalepeño slices.  Me?  No problema.  Big guy?  No problema.  Little guy?  Problema grande.

He took one slice on a fork, delicately put it on his tongue, slowly began chewing, swallowed it...and then the steam started coming out of his ears.  He turned a bit red.  He got up.  He drank water.  A lot of water. 


Me:  "You may want to get some milk, or maybe eat some tortilla chips, dude."

Little guy, upon looking in the fridge:  "I'm gonna eat some whip cream!"

Glug, glug, glug....

Little guy:  "I don't like jalepeños."


It's a funny thing.  When I was pregnant with my big guy, I could not get enough spicy foods.  And when he was little he'd eat salsa like it was chicken noodle soup.  Seriously.  By the bowl, people.  When I was pregnant with my little guy I could not tolerate spicy foods at all...which is so not me.  My little fetuses were serious dietary dictators who had already determined what they liked and didn't like.

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Predator and Prey

We live in the land of "Just a minute!" 'round these parts.  Seems like every request is followed by those words I've come to not like so very much.  Now, if they truly meant sixty seconds, we'd be good, but what they truly mean is, "Go away now and I'm going to completely ignore what you asked me to do until you nag me relentlessly."

So this morning when I said, "Come on, it's time to go," and it was followed by, "Just a minute!" well, I decided I'd use said "minute" in the best possible way I could.  I leaned in, wrapped my arms around my kid, kissed and tickled him.


Little guy:  "Stop attacking me!!!"

Me:  "If this is 'attacking,' then you'd better get used to it...because I'm totally the predator and you're the prey in this situation."


And then he got ready to go right quick!

This painting/gift card is available for purchase at:  Hoots the Owl

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