Wednesday, April 23, 2014


I have finally finished washing ALL our laundry, a feat so rare that I could write an entire blog about it alone.  I would too, if it weren't for those hilarious little men I call my grandsons.  They keep doing silly stuff that makes me laugh like I mean it and all I want to do is pass on the joy.  

But first, for you skeptics, here's a picture of the last toasty-warm load to come out of the dryer:

You can see from the background that it's still daytime!
Every piece of dirty laundry has now been washed and for one glorious moment, I bask in the glow of a (mundane) job well done!  Then questions creep into my mind; the kind of questions that can only pop up when every piece of clothing is clean simultaneously. 

Where's my favorite teal sweatshirt?  (Did I donate it and then forget?  Or did I leave it at that Italian restaurant?)  Why do I own eight black tee-shirts? (Am I a ninja-in-training?)  I used to have an entire bureau drawer of underwear but now I only have three pair!  What happened to the rest?  (That's the weirdest question of all.)

I'm not going to over think it.  I'm just going to go out and buy more.

* * *

Thinking of buying things brings me back to the grandson story.  I had the delicious pleasure of being with the boys at bedtime and Brody was sitting up on his mommy's bed in his superhero pj's, holding a small baby doll on his lap. How adorable is that, right?

Brody decided to feed his baby doll but he didn't have a bottle.  He solved the dilemma to his own satisfaction by stuffing the trunk of his toy elephant into her mouth.  

Pleased with himself, he looked up at his mother and said, "Where's my baby sister?"  To which Jessica responded, "You don't have a baby sister.  You have a baby brother."

Brody sat quietly for a moment, digesting this information.  Then decided he wasn't quite done with this conversation yet.  "Mommy," he said, "You need to go to the grocery store and buy me some sisters."

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Words of Wisdom

Grandson on the table!
Like his Auntie Kate before him, our Grayson, now nearing two years old, is a climber.  If you so much as blink, he will have ascended upward like a mountaineer in search of a summit.

While we were visiting this weekend we were temporarily distracted.  When we refocused, Grayson was standing on the table.  He saw his mother looking at him with THE EYES so he smiled sheepishly.
Grandson as advisor

Meanwhile Brody, who was sitting nearby, looked up and assessed the situation.
"Take a deep breath, Mommy," he said.

Sounds like good advice to me.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Icky Sickies!

I'm a hypochondriac.  At least I think I am.  Fortunately, Jerry enjoys excellent health and hasn't even thrown up since 1975.  Until now.  

Germs are the zucchini of the pre-school set.  There is always a bumper crop of 'em and kids give them freely to everyone they see - and there's still plenty left over at home.  We have two pre-schoolers in our extended family.  Enough said.

Sunday we visited the Grands.  Grayson had been barfing earlier in the day, but he's a one-and-a-half year old; they barf all the time. We really didn't pay any attention to it.  He rallied just as we arrived and he seemed fine.  Later, while Jerry was holding him, he let loose again and blew chunks all over his Grampy.  Ewwww!!!  (I get nauseated when I think of it.  That's just who I am.)

The next evening, a friend from Michigan and her little girl were visiting our daughter's family.  We all met at a local pizza place and enjoyed catching up.  Brody, who was sitting on Grampy's lap, looked glassy eyed.  

Sure enough, during the night he, too, threw up.  So did his father.  Jerry spent a sleepless night himself, but vomiting was not his problem.  

Tuesday morning Jerry texted me to tell me he'd just hurled in a customer's parking lot.  Being a guy, he did not come home immediately.  He said he felt better (remember Grayson's rallying?) and decided to power through the day. Although he made a heroic effort, he was halfway through a meeting when he had to excuse himself and make a hasty exit. 

He dragged in around three p.m. and as he  opened the garage door he yelled at me to vacate the area, which I was happy to do - but not before I saw he was carrying a black bucket.  Later though, I did notice that our bathroom smelled heavily of bleach.  

Jerry spent the night praying to the porcelain god while I slept on the couch.  "You've already been exposed to these germs," he said.  I agreed that we'd already been introduced, but I didn't feel the need to become intimately acquainted with them.

The next morning, Jessica called and said her friend was "lying on my laundry room floor."

It was a solid twenty-four hour bug and everyone is recovering nicely.  

Me?  I never caught it, but I was sick all week.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Trials and Tribulations

Kiss My Glass!

"I thank God for all my trials and tribulations," said the fidgety man behind the counter.  I should have turned and run out of the store right then but I just answered, "I prefer mine vicariously."  Turns out, we both got what we asked for.

I handed the fellow my picture and asked him to replace the glass with a non-glare piece.  "But first," I said, "I have two questions.  Will my 40% coupon work and can you recycle the piece of glass that's currently in there?"

"I think so." he said.  He wrote up a quote which turned out to be quite pricey but with the discount it would be about twenty dollars.  Even that seemed high to me - but then again, I remember when gas was thirty-seven cents a gallon.  Maybe the days of reasonably priced glass went the way of the dinosaur, too, and I just wasn't paying attention.  Perhaps twenty dollars isn't so out of line after all; I just don't know.

After taking careful measurements, the man disappeared through the open doorway into the custom framing area that was in the room behind him.  When he returned a few minutes later, he was wearing thick rubber gloves just like the ones I use when gardening.  "Sometimes the glass likes to bite me," he said.  When he slid the glass into the frame, it was about an eighth of an inch too short.  

"Oops!"  he said, mildly flustered. As he was re-measuring, he said, "You won't have to pay for my mistake.  I can use it later."  I was happy on both counts.  As he left me waiting again, Jerry joined me.  Minutes ticked by.  Then we heard the distinctive sound of breaking glass.  More time elapsed.  More glass breaking.  Things just weren't going well back there.

A frustrated employee reemerged.  "There's something wrong with the machine," he declared.  "There must be a shard stuck in it."  He turned around and vanished.  

The third time's the charm!  Not for this guy - we heard a series of loud crashes this time. While I was thinking how lucky it is this man has on thick gloves, Jerry was thinking differently and softly chuckling. The more noise we heard, the harder it was for Jer to keep his composure.  Finally he lost his battle entirely and walked away laughing out loud.  Minutes later I could still hear the sound of Jerry's muffled laughter a couple of aisles away.

Just as things were getting almost unbearably awkward for me, another employee cruised by.  He was wearing a RED vest, unlike my helper who was in BLUE, so I took this to mean he was an AUTHORITY FIGURE.  

"Can I help you?" he asked from behind the counter.

"Can you cut glass?" I responded.  

So it was that Mr. RED went in to lend a hand to Mr. BLUE.  Together the two guys broke two more pieces of glass.  You have to admire their persistence. 
Eventually they emerged, triumphant.  They gently placed the glass into the frame and it fit perfectly.  

It fit.  It just didn't look like non-glare glass.
The finished product.  Glare or Non-glare?
They assured me that it was only the high-intensity lighting in the store causing the illusion of glare.  As Mr. BLUE is ringing me up, I say, "Remember my coupon."  Mr. RED says, "Oh, you can't use those for custom-cut glass."

As we are walking out to our car Jer looks at me and says, "Yah know we just paid $36.58 for this glass and there's a 50/50 chance that it's the same piece we brought in."