Be Ye Like Little Children

It was a  hot, sweltering Texas afternoon when our school held its carnival last week.  My booth was the lollipop tree. For two tickets, a child could choose a lolly--if the end of the stick had been colored red, he won a prize, if not, he got a small candy and would get to keep the lollypop regardless.  There was no losing in this game!

Three adorable young siblings came to my booth early on.  Once they understood the game,  the six-year-old big sister kept plying me with enough tickets so she and her little brothers could each have another chance to win.  I was friendly and encouraging as they chose their lollipops.  Did I mention that the sun was relentless and there was absolutely no breeze or shade?  I could feel beads of sweat on my forehead and upper lip.  My cheeks were flushed and the wisps of hair that couldn't be snared into a pony tail were either sticking up crazily or plastered to my skull.  Still, I smiled and suggested they pick a flavor they liked; when they didn't "win" a prize, I reminded them to choose a candy from the bag.

As I was turned toward the lollipop tree, the oldest of the trio lovingly said, "You're beautiful."  I was feeling ANYthing but beautiful, but her sincerity made me FEEL beauty inside.

I want to be like this little child and share with others  the strength, or wit or wonder that I see in them, just as that little one showed me my inner beauty.

Clarification

Mostly, Hannah and I listen to Country music, Dan listens to talk radio, but Logan has chosen Rock n Roll as his music of choice.  Specifically, any rendition of "We Will Rock You".

Dan played the trombone in high school, I played the flute in middle school, Michelle tried the flute for awhile, Kim was interested in piano, Hannah chose the cello but when I asked Logan what instrument he would be interested in taking, he decidedly and immediately proclaimed the drums.  Inner cringing aside at the thought of the racket an 11-year-old could produce  "practicing" the drum, I outwardly supported his choice with a strained smile.

Last night at Hannah's final orchestra performance, there were certain pieces where percussionists and some woodwinds accompanied the Intermediate orchestra.  Seriously good music.  As Logan endured through the two hour production, I asked if he thought he would like to play the drums like we were hearing in the middle school rendition of a more than decent "Les Miserable" mash-up.

"No, I want to play like a rock star."

Well, as long as he doesn't party like one, I'll be okay...it could happen.

Reverse Telemarketing

A major TV cable company called last week and wanted to know if we would like to start paying them exorbitant monthly fees for a handful of channels that we'll actually watch in addition to several dozen that we'll never, EVER view.    I politely explained that until we get a choice of what is on our cable menu, we would respectfully decline at this time.  Until then, we'll satisfy ourselves with watching Netflix and Hulu.

"I completely understand," said the TV cable selling lady. "But what's Hulu?"

"Oh, you stream whatever you want from TV and watch it through Hulu."

"What ever you WANT?   How do you spell that?"

"H-U-L-U," I answered, as helpfully as possible.  "It's great, you should get it."

"Hmm.  I probably shouldn't be talking about this on the company phone.  Thank you, good-bye."

Dang,  I should have gotten her name so I could have used her as a referral and gotten 2 free weeks of Hulu!

Totally Hot!

Last night, we were watching the 1976 remake of King Kong while eating a late supper of delicious lasagna soup.  The leading lady, Jessica Lange, was lolling about sensually on the ships berth in a little black dress whose plunging neckline HAD to have been held in place by copious amounts of double-stick tape *ouch!* in order to avoid  serious "wardrobe malfunction."  Just then, Logan said, "That's hot!"

A quick glance at my eight-year-old son helped me realize he wasn't talking about the actress, but the soup.  Phew!

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Being in middle school has been the social event of Hannah's LIFE.  She came in yesterday sighing with satisfaction at having had  such a really good day.  With a bit of nonchalant interrogation, she shared this story:

Upon being deposited at school, she exclaimed in a rather good English accent,  "Oh no! I've left my spectacles on the bus!"  Her friend Mikey repeated her, "She's left her testicles on the bus!" allegedly  mis-saying "spectacles." Hannah turned pink as she retold us the story, Logan and I laughed with her at his blunder; good times!

THEN, this morning, Logan reminded me about the story, "He said tentacles instead of spectacles!" he sniggered at the other fellow's unfortunate error.

I guess "testicles" has not been one of his vocabulary words in third grade yet, so "tentacles" will have to suffice.

Zombies Are Real

A few weeks ago, I was coming home from work and as I  turned into the neighborhood, I saw a small black kitten lying motionlessly in the middle of the road.  "Awww, poor thing; must've been hit by a car," I assessed, slowing down as to not drive over it's little corpse.  Just then, his head popped up and it LOOKED at me.  Then, it GOT UP (think The Ring scene where that girl climbed out of the TV) and staggered away--probably looking to take a bite out of other kittens and growing it's adorable, furry, undead population so they can eventually take over the world.  This has been a public service announcement.

GST

This was an incident I meant to post back in December...it's been rather hectic here...

Today was a "Hurry Up Day" because Hannah had a Christmas performance with orchestra which required us be at the Performing Arts Center (a.k.a. the high school auditorium) at 6:30p.m. with cello in tow.  Since she arrives home from school at 4:30, it was imperative that homework, dinner, piano practice, etc. be done in a timely manner.  That's just a nice way of saying I was crackin' the whip that afternoon.

Like a well-oiled machine, Hannah went through her paces; practicing both piano and cello, working on  Math, eating  dinner.   When I told her that she now needed to hurry up and change, she disappeared obediently into her room.  She exited some time later, asking if she could sleep in the guest room since her bedroom was really quite chilly.  Baffled as to why she would be asking to do something that wasn't even going to be pertinent for many, MANY hours, I glanced up, and noticed she was in her jim-jams!  Flabbergasted, I reminded her it wasn't time to put on pajamas,  she had a performance and we needed to leave in 15 minutes!  Realization dawned, sheepish look followed as she glanced down at her fuzzy slippers.  Doing a quick about-face, she skittered back to her room for a costume change.

Honestly?   It was comforting to know I’m wasn't the only one ready to turn in at Geriatrics Standard Time (GST). 

Dressed and ready.

2.5 hours was about 2 hours too
long for Logan