We were chopping carrots. The 15-year old ate one. She usually subsists on fried chicken and frappuccinos.
“Carrots make you feel good. You eat one and it feels so good, like hugging a cute boy,” she opined.
Indeed.
Tag: humor
You Can’t Make Me
You can’t make me wake up and prepare for the day,
through threats or rewards or anything you say.
You can’t make me study for the quiz or the test,
you can’t make me pay attention and do my best.
But you can nicely inquire about the songs I like,
or invite me out to to shop, see a movie or a hike.
Because building a union based on sincerity
will lead to a life full of jocularity
for you as well as for me.
Registrant’s Regret
Driving home, I asked the freshman high school daughter how school was today.
“I think I am really starting to dislike my science class now.”
“Why?”
“Because our teacher handed us a fifty-page document titled ‘Science Fair Projects.'”
I laughed.
“I could have taken chemistry!”
Say What?
With one daughter out of town, I thought I’d take the other teen on a lunch date.
She finished eating before I did.
“Are you done?” She asked.
“Um, no. Clearly, I’m not. I’m still masticating.”
“Ew. Mom. Not here at the table.”
Opal and Ice
Crrrrrraack! Tingtingting! Is that the ice dispenser I hear?
Run down the hall, from under Josie’s bed
Skid to a halt and plead with eyes
Open mouth and receive icy goodness
The Dove and I
Yesterday morning (before it reached 118 degrees), I washed the outdoor chaise cushions (pelted by bird poop) with eco-friendly soap and the hose. The bolsters were heavy with water and I carried them to dry against the boulders that were once where our pool now gleams.
Once dry, I placed the cushions back on the loungers.
This morning, I noticed new “gifts” from a bird on one of my freshly cleaned cushions. The mourning dove made eye contact with me from his perch in the tree.
I Googled “how to keep birds out of trees“.
Possible solutions: a scarecrow and shiny objects placed in the branches. Neither one of these would fit my husband’s delicate aesthetics, so I thought some more.
How about cutting the branches off? Oh no. That would not do. We need all the shade we can get around here.
Ooooh! One of those large, fake owls!
More ideas from the Internet: pie tins, old DVDs, mylar balloons. No, no, no.
In the end, I simply moved the chaise from under the tree. Problem solved.
Arnold or Annie
My husband pours orange juice and tea into a glass full of ice.
“I can’t believe you’re doing that. That looks so gross!” I say.
“It’s called an Arnold Palmer,” he takes a chug.
“Arnold Palmer is ice tea with lemonade,” says his father Ken.
“Oh yeah,” my husband takes another sip.
“You’re drinking an Annie Palmer,” Ken laughs.
