"Absolut Vodka" and Rope

What a day I had yesterday!  If there is any truth to the adage that "you are what you eat", then I am sure my 2 year old Granddaughter must have eaten some "Devil's Food Cake" for breakfast!  For some reason her little horns were in full display yesterday.

First she insisted that she put her Rice Krispies into a Halloween bag to carry around and eat like a snack. I had no problem with this until I realized she had spilled the majority of the cereal on the carpet and accidently walked on it, crushing it into the carpet.  But, overall, it was no big deal.

I gave her paper to draw  a picture, yet she took the pencil and drew a picture for me, on the wall. Well, she got one line drawn before I caught her.

Then she asked if she could watch Yo Gabba Gabba on TV.  I told her yes.  So, she pulled her rocking chair up to the TV and started watching it. I came into the next room to check my e-mail. I was in here maybe 10 minutes, while still asking her now and then , "What are you doing, Kia?" She would answer, "Watching TV , Grandma."

After I finished checking my e-mail, I walked into the kitchen to see what I could make Kia for lunch. As I came back into the living room to ask her if she wanted Mac & Cheese, I noticed all these black spots on the TV screen. On closer inspection I found about 35 Christmas stickers decorating the screen of my husband's new (a week old) LCD TV!

Needless to say I was upset. I didn't spank her but lectured her about ruining Granddaddy's new TV.  I spent the next 30 minutes carefully peeling stickers off. But, the problem was that the adhesive from the stickers remained on the screen.

LCD screens are so sensitive that you have to worry about how you clean them. I got on line and read almost always conflicting suggestions for cleaning these screens. But, apparently no one elses Granddaughter had ever stickered their LCD screen.

So when my husband got home we headed for the computer store to see what they suggested for cleaning LCD screens. The young man there was at a lost as to what could be used to remove adhesive. He went on line and again we found so many different and often conflicting suggestions. One lady swears that Absolut Vodka cleans these screens safely and effectively. 

I told the young man that anyone can get on there and suggest things. How do we know they really work and are safe?  I told him that maybe the lady was kind of on the right track...but I thought perhaps  Absolut Vodka and rope was a better suggestion.  The vodka for me. Rope to tie babygirl's hands to her rocking chair! 

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A Matter of Perspective

I was telling my daughter on Friday that I had seen a mouse in the kitchen Thursday night.  I went on to add, "Thankfully, it was a mouse and not a rat this time!"

"What difference does it make,mom?  Both are rodents."  she said.

"It's the fear factor!  It makes a lot of difference!" I replied.

To my daughter a rodent is a rodent.

  I think size definitely matters in some cases.  Thus, for me, a huge old rat is scarier than a little mouse!

Maybe I should explain it to her this way...if I were to walk outside and see one of those huge Monitor Lizards, I would be much more afraid than I would be if I crossed paths with a gecko! 

Guess it is  a matter of perspective. Right?

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Momma Raised Me Right

As I said in a previous blog, my husband and I made a trip to Radford University last weekend.  I had actually  planned on doing some housework over the weekend...before the Health Department condemns this place as unfit for human habitation.  But,  the last minute drive-by to Radford put an end to my good intentions.

When we arrived home I went in the kitchen to put  a much needed pot of coffee on to brew.  I kind of realized that something looked different in the kitchen but I wasn't sure why.  A few minutes later my daughter-in-law, Ann, came in and said , "Did you notice that I mopped the floor while you were gone?"

Well, I guess the thought that she actually did something after living in my house for over 3 years, was just too much for me.  But, after Jack was able to revive me, I did say "Thank you!" because my momma raised me to be polite.

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A Drive-by

We made a trip  to Radford University this weekend to visit with our daughter, Jaime.  She had wanted to come home but there was no way we could make the 10 hour trip there and back on Saturday, then repeat it on Sunday since her daddy works on Sunday night.   So we went there, got a hotel and spent most of Saturday running around the Radford area  with her.  We did the usual shopping, eating out and even got in a few games of bowling at the campus bowling alley.

We were suppose to take her best friend Travis with us but he got sick so she was stuck with just her mom and dad. I mean she didn't really complain or anything about being stuck with us. Still, sometimes I wonder if she would be just as happy if we did a drive-by. You know, have her wait on the sidewalk outside her dorm and slow down just enough as we drive-by to throw her daddy's wallet filled with cash and his credit cards. 

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Is Chivalry Dead?

My youngest son, Larry, worked until 3AM, yet he and his wife, Ann,  were up at 7:30AM  getting ready to go somewhere yesterday. Wondering why he was up so early I asked, "Where are y'all going ?"   My son then told me that he didn't have any money left from his paycheck and a friend had told him about selling "plasma" to get some spending money.  There is nothing altruistic about my son so I'm sure this idea is expressly for getting some money.

Yet, I was surprised by his willingness to go do this, he is afterall, afraid of needles.   Using the word "afraid" is really an understatement!  I recall that it usually took everybody employed by the doctor to hold this boy down for shots!  I felt I should remind him of this, so I said, "You?  Have you forgotten how you use to throw-up every time you knew the doctor was going to give you a shot?"

He said, "I know. That's why I told Ann that she could  do it."

What the heck? Is chivalry dead? Is my son actually selling his wife for spending money? Well, not actually selling his wife...but selling her "plasma" for money! 

I just can't wrap my mind around his willingness to sacrifice his wife for money. 

So, I guess I will just think of it in terms now familiar from the sinking of the Titanic..."Women and children first".   I suppose that is a form of chivalry.  Right?

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And The Winner Is...Me!

Okay, I don't pretend to keep up with the voting process involved with winning a Nobel Prize.  I don't know the first thing about it.  Yet, usually I can figure out why a particular person was given an award.   Right now there are a lot of jokes about Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Like most people I haven't a clue why he  was nominated , much less why he actually won.

It could be that a person doesn't really have to do much to win sometimes.  And with that being the case, I declare myself the winner of the Nobel Prize in Economics, for living within my budget and actually balancing my checkbook now and then!

Now, where do I go to collect my prize?

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Today's The Day

This afternoon is the picnic with my former high school classmates. I am truly excited about seeing everybody again. And because I am excited about this get together you know something had to go wrong...right? 

So, Thursday morning I wake up and my nose is running, I'm coughing and I have a sinus headache.  I'm thinking, "Great!" now besides looking like the "Cryptkeeper" in pictures I am also gonna look like "Rudolph" from wiping/blowing my nose so much!  I half expected to wake up this morning with a bad case of acne...that would be just my luck.   I briefly considered staying home with my "cooties" but darnit I want to go party with these people. I think I'll just take all my sinus meds before I head  that way so I won't be coughing or sneezing on anyone. I do believe they may appreciate that!

For a brief moment yesterday, I worried about conversing with my former classmates. I was so shy in school that I don't think I ever talked to more than one or two of the folks coming to this get-together.  What do we talk about? They all ready know from facebook that I have kids and grandkids. Most of the ladies coming are working women. I am just a stay-at-home mom/grandma. I know nothing about the perils of working outside the home...(or inside the home either as y'all know.)

Anyway, I decided that I shouldn't worry about this since I am capable of carrying on an adult conversation, in spite of what my family may claim.  I figure the subjects of conversation will present themselves and I'll just go with the flow. However, I did decide that I shall remain silent if any conversation comes up involving preferred brands of laundry soap since I once obtained my laundry detergent from the deep fryer.  I also decided that I should avoid any mention of previous arrests or jail time.

If I stick to these "rules', I think I'm gonna have a good time!

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Being Empathetic

Some people say that I am the most empathetic person that they know.  So, tonight, when my youngest sister posted a note on facebook, saying she had "monkey brains".  I immediately felt it was my job as her big sister to let her know that I've always been aware of this and had great empathy/sympathy for her. Thus I posted a simple, "I'm so sorry, sis" in reply.  Although in reality I can not imagine what her life has been like with only a "wittle monkey brain" to guide her.  (Something about that phrase makes me want to talk like Elmer Fudd.)

Anyway, she fired back a response of, "Monkey bread!  Not brains."   Knowing that she really didn't mean that she had bread for brains, and not wanting to rattle her cage (no pun intended), I tried to explain what I meant...so I replied:

"I was being empathic, sis. " ( But, maybe sis doesn't understand that I was showing her that I love her in spite of her shortcomings.)  I went on to tell her that NOT once in my entire life have I heard her empathize with me about  my having to go through life with chicken legs and a wide load sign strapped to my rear!

I'm thinking my baby sister doesn't know the definition of empathy. Yet, I quickly discarded the thought of buying her a dictionary...with that "wittle monkey brain" she probably wouldn't know how to look the word up.

I love her anyway.  :)

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Fighting Words?

On October 10th, I'll be going to a cookout with former high school classmates. I am looking forward to this get together.  Today I was talking about what I should bring to this gathering.  I mentioned a few things that I am good at making. Things that  probably wouldn't lead to phoning the EMT's or performing CPR. 

My husband, Jack,  listened for a few minutes then said that he thought he should bring "Geritol" as his contribution to the cookout.  It's remarks like this that remind me that he is younger, (only slightly!) and needs to show some respect for his elders! 

I oughta strap on my "Depends", throw off my shawl and give this young punk I married a piece of my mind!  Only problem is that I may be giving him the only piece of my mind that's still functioning correctly.

So, I think I'll just ignore the little brat. 

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Should I Worry?

My babygirl, Jaime had a bad week up a Radford so she was looking for a way to relax.  This morning I got myself a cup of coffee and sat down at my computer  to check  my facebook page.  Granted, I wasn't fully awake and the caffeinated IQ points had yet to kick in but I'm pretty sure that my baby girl posted that  she had spent the previous evening "smoking hooker's and shotgunning mangoes". Well, she said smoking "Hookahs" but I figured that was a typo or some country/urban slang used up around the Radford area.

Anyway, what the heck does this mean?  Should I worry?

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