From your mouth to Legolas' ears kiddo, and I am an asshole
Ironman left yesterday to go to the UK for a few days, so I'm playing the single mom thing. Last night, Devil insisted that she didn't want to take bath. But she did come and sit on the bathroom floor while Boo flung water all over the place. And that's when I found out that Devil has Hollywood connections.
D: Mama, I saw that man at the race this morning (pointing to the Pirates of the Caribbean Kleenex box that I bought without realizing I was exposing my children to Marketing).
P: Did you sweetie? (grabbing bar of soap out of Boo's mouth)
D: Yeah. He was walking down the street.
I look up and realize that Devil is pointing directly to Orlando Bloom's head shot.
D: He was very old and kind.
P: Was he? (Old? Crap, what does that make me?)
D: Yeah (with a knowing nod). He's having a party.
P: He is? (having ideas about exactly what kind of party Orlando Bloom would throw)
D: I'm going.
P: Really?
D: Yeah. You can come too.
P: Yippee!
So I'm going to hang with the Elf Guy. Cool. Now if only I can figure out how to stay up later then oh say 10:30 pm, it should be a good time!
*******************************************
Now for the second part of tonight's title:
Before I had children, I'd hear all sorts of anecdotal evidence that babies make you dumb. And I have to admit that I had a few Absent Minded Professor tendencies before Devil and Boo made their appearance. But tonight takes the cake. In the midst of arriving home (unloading car, getting two grumpy kids into the house, extracting soggy Cheerios from car seats), my phone rings. It's someone I've been meaning to/trying to talk to for several weeks now. We had a brief chat since I was in the midst of swirling chaos, but we agreed to talk later this evening. All well and good. Except...
I can't find my phone. It's gone. Kaput. Vanished. Like it never existed. I put it down somewhere and it has decided that it would be a fun game to go invisible. So S, if you're reading this, apparantly I'm a complete idiot, and I still really suck. I will try to get a hold of you tomorrow sometime, and a million apologies. I owe you!
D: Mama, I saw that man at the race this morning (pointing to the Pirates of the Caribbean Kleenex box that I bought without realizing I was exposing my children to Marketing).
P: Did you sweetie? (grabbing bar of soap out of Boo's mouth)
D: Yeah. He was walking down the street.
I look up and realize that Devil is pointing directly to Orlando Bloom's head shot.
D: He was very old and kind.
P: Was he? (Old? Crap, what does that make me?)
D: Yeah (with a knowing nod). He's having a party.
P: He is? (having ideas about exactly what kind of party Orlando Bloom would throw)
D: I'm going.
P: Really?
D: Yeah. You can come too.
P: Yippee!
So I'm going to hang with the Elf Guy. Cool. Now if only I can figure out how to stay up later then oh say 10:30 pm, it should be a good time!
*******************************************
Now for the second part of tonight's title:
Before I had children, I'd hear all sorts of anecdotal evidence that babies make you dumb. And I have to admit that I had a few Absent Minded Professor tendencies before Devil and Boo made their appearance. But tonight takes the cake. In the midst of arriving home (unloading car, getting two grumpy kids into the house, extracting soggy Cheerios from car seats), my phone rings. It's someone I've been meaning to/trying to talk to for several weeks now. We had a brief chat since I was in the midst of swirling chaos, but we agreed to talk later this evening. All well and good. Except...
I can't find my phone. It's gone. Kaput. Vanished. Like it never existed. I put it down somewhere and it has decided that it would be a fun game to go invisible. So S, if you're reading this, apparantly I'm a complete idiot, and I still really suck. I will try to get a hold of you tomorrow sometime, and a million apologies. I owe you!