Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Tuesday's Random Thoughts

Nicholas correctly spelled word after word after word tonight. He did beautifully executed handstands in the living room floor. He sang Christmas carols with perfect pitch. He mapped the human genome--blind-folded (okay, that last one is not true, but the kid is weirdly savant-like in his ability to quickly master tasks). After seeing him display amazing feats of accomplishment this evening while Sophie--a perfectly normal five-year-old little girl--looked on in utter defeat, it was refreshing to discover that Sophie has one talent that Nicholas has yet to master. Finally Sophie can do something Nicholas can't. She can outperform him in one aspect. The girl can snap her fingers. Nicholas tries, but he can do no more than clumsily rub his finger together in a strange motion that resembles a Tourette's tic. Sophie can snap! And she does it with panache. That's my girl!

The next five weeks are probably my very favorite weeks of the entire year. I love the holidays. It is really quite obnoxious how much I adore Christmas. I have already begun listening to the dreaded 24/7 Christmas carols playing on 102.9 Lite FM. I am a bit disappointed in their playlist, however. I think I am entirely too much of a traditionalist for Christmas radio. Just because a song has the word "Christmas" in it does not make it a carol. I've never even heard half of the songs they are playing. And what is the deal with artists trying to "update" the classics? Is there really a need to funkify "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..."? It's not really meant to be a get-your-groove-on song. Am I right? Seriously...I need more Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole and Burl Ives and a little less Mariah Carey and Taylor Swift. Is that too much to ask?

I hate rush hour traffic. I despise it. My commute isn't really horrible. Three shorts jaunts on three highways get me home. But every time I get on a new highway, I need to cross over at least two lanes of traffic to get where I need to be. It stresses me out because people are idiots. And they are driving their gigantic steroidal SUV's and talking on the phone and texting and refusing to allow people like me in normal cars to merge. I hate it. I am considering packing up my kids and moving to Mayberry.

I have come to the conclusion today that Ruanita is trying to torture me. As you know, she has historically refused to fill ice cube trays, leaving me scrambling to find one or two pitiful cubes to chill my Diet Pepsi. Now that my mother has moved in with us, my mother dutifully fills the ice cube trays. She compensates for Ruanita's complete lack on freezer decorum. So Ruanita has moved on to bigger and better things. No longer able to use the ice cube trays as her passive-aggressive torture device, she now employs the almighty toilet paper roll. That's right. You guessed it. She has begun putting the toilet paper roll on backwards. Under instead of over. Everyone knows that OVER is correct. Under is just plain sick and wrong. But she does it anyway. And I am sure she chuckles silently to herself every time I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

The first snow of the season, which is now a sludgy, muddy mess, ushers in the advent of that most hideous of tasks--wiping the dog's feet every time she goes out to pee. Not only do I have to stand at the door in the cold begging her to come back in at ten o'clock at night, but I also have to chase her, catch her, wrangle her into a sitting position, wipe each of her four paws, and then get down on my four paws to wipe her prints off the kitchen linoleum. I think I should maybe join the rodeo when I move to Mayberry. Bucking broncos can't possibly be any harder to wrangle that an overly-affectionate butt-wiggling boxer.

Just my thoughts for the day...


Madgew said...

Your thoughts of the day always crack me up. You have dicks as well on the freeway and probably in your daily life (not your Mom or Ruanita). I love Sophie having her own special skill. Need to get an ice maker and all your issues regarding ice would be over.

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