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My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life & Teaching"
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Silly Sunday: Pole Dancer?

If you saw a kid draw this, what would you think?
We've all heard that the truth is stranger than fiction.

Here is a picture that a little girl drew at school and the note that her mother sent to the teacher in an effort to explain that things are not as they appear.

Yeah, right lady. We know what you do. ;)

Dear Mrs. Jones,
     I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. I work at Home Depot and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had, and then I found one more in the back room, and that several people were fighting over who would get it. Her picture doesn't show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot. From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly before she turns it in.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Smith

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Thursday, September 1, 2011

#GBE2: Longing

Longing is a dangerous topic because you just might get what you wish for.

When I was a little tyke, I longed to be "big" so I could do what my older brother and sisters did. However, I didn't realize that getting "big" meant they'd be bigger and leave me for college. So, I longed to go to college too. In fact, I wanted to leave so badly I skipped my senior year of high school and left home early.

Later, I graduated college and longed to meet Mr. Right. Not that I was desperate, but I'd kissed a few frogs (with dead flies in the ear) and was ready for the prince.

After meeting and marrying my husband, we longed for children. Children are wonderful but to quote Bill Cosby, "God has a sense of humor," and if you've been reading my blog for long, you know our kids do too. While working to civilize kids, we tend to grow uncivilized. For example, how many times have you seen a mom spit on her finger to clean a kid's face? Wipe a kid's nose with a dirty Kleenex of shirt tale? I rest my case.

Later, we longed to be out of diapers or an awkward stage of child development. Unfortunately, during all that wishing, the kids grew up and moved away. Now I wish for the vacation, holiday, or even retirement so that I may see the kids again. When these "longed for" times arrive, I'll only be older. Maybe I'll even be bored when I retire; but still, it's as if so many of us long our lives away.

None-the-less . . . I wish it were summer vacation again.


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Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Lost and Found #GBE2

#3 = Lost and Found

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, perhaps in the year 15 BC (before children), my mind started to gradually slip away. It wasn't anything dramatic like space aliens ringing the doorbell and asking for brain samples, but rather a slow deterioration of sanity.

Maybe it started in middle school when the dorks teased me for wearing my sister's powder blue, handi-me-down gym uniform instead of the sexy red ones on sale at school. With the red garbs, one could  turn them around backwards and slide the zipper down low. Ms. "McFeel," the questionable PE teacher didn't seem to mind as long as we wore a PE uniform and took our showers after class. If not the uniforms, perhaps the brain drain came when I was brave stupid enough to get on stage in a flapper outfit and dance the Charleston with Steve Noonan in front of the laughing student body.

"What was everyone laughing at?" I later asked a friend.

"Your costumes," she said.

Yeah, right! I was almost naive enough to buy it. Junior High School definitely chipped a good 10% of mind out of my clueless head.

High school must have taken some more. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, I got my driver's license and proudly drove into the car next to me in a snowy parking lot. Okay, I wasn't proud of hitting the car (multiple times when the honkers made me panic), but I was proud of the first time being alone in the car, until . . .

Being a mindless teen, I stuck a note about the size of a bobby pin on the damaged car's windshield wiper and crawled home to tell my dad. He took it well. In fact, he took it a lot better than the lady I hit. For the next year, my parents begged and pleaded me to take the car out alone, but by then about 20% of mind went missing, so no can do. I've only been in one other mild fender bender in over thirty years of driving daily, so maybe I found five percent between then and now.

College took more due to a little bit of drinking at parties. Alcohol has been scientifically proven to kill brain cells, so go ahead and remove the five percent I'd found plus 5% more and now I'm down to 75% sanity. Until my boyfriend said, "Will you marry me and live in Memphis?"

Marrying him was actually a fabulous idea, but I question my mental state when I said,"Yes to Memphis." If that ain't love, I don't know what is. Take away another 5% for moving to Memphis and becoming a teacher. A teacher? Did I say, "5%?" Better make that 5% for moving to Memphis and 25% for becoming a teacher. What am I down to now? 45%? Being able to do basic math means I have a little bit of mind left add 5%, but then I got pregnant. Three times. Three children.

Some comedian, can't remember who, once said we lose half of our minds with each child born. That would put me far into the negative category. Just because I scratched my head and hopped like a monkey to get my babies to smile does not mean I've lost my mind? I mean, doesn't everyone do that?

Since this challenge is called "Lost and Found," I must end with the story about how I got it all back. We put the baby on a bus this morning and sent her off to be a camp counselor for the summer. The middle one comes home in five days and stays for a few weeks, but come fall we will be official empty nesters. If that doesn't restore my mind, nothing will!



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Saturday, April 30, 2011

Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts #AtoZ

If I ever wish to get published, I guess I need to spend less time blogging and more time working on my manuscript, "Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts." I was inspired to write this book from Halloween memories as a kid. My mother had repeatedly told me not to eat ANYTHING unwrapped. Being ridiculously  obedient, each year I skipped gooey pieces of grease on a plate of powdered sugar. Boy was I a dumb kid!

Years later my mom said, "Well, you could have eaten something unwrapped from Mrs. Zimmerman."

Why didn't you tell me that sooner, Mom? Since it's too late for me to go back and down a donut--having moved to another city and given up sugar--I invented a character named Knob. He wears a buzz cut that makes his head look like a door knob. Unlike me, Knob has a wild Mohawk wearing buddy who will teach him how to break the rules with style.

I hope one day you'll be able to visit your local bookstore and pick up a copy of "Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts." Until then, read my blog.

Thanks for sticking around for the AtoZ Challenge. Tomorrow I will be participating in the six sentence Sunday. Now what am I supposed to write about throughout the rest of May? Please come back because I know I'll figure something out.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Nudity & The Ninth Wonder of My World #AtoZ

Having a title starting with the word "Nudity," I wonder if this little post will gain top hits status. Yeah! Admit it. You clicked on my blog. I'll tell YOU exactly what I told my pediatrician when he asked five-year-old me to take off my clothes: I said, "You're nasty." But that's not exactly what this post is about. Here goes . . .
It's great to be alive; it's even greater to be in Colorado; but it's best to be at Shwayder Camp --"Uncle Max" Frankel

One of my most embarrassing moments occurred at a youth group convention held at Camp Shwayder in Idaho Springs, Colorado. After spending a full summer working that camp, I knew my way around inside and out. So when we got stinky by riding horses, I found myself at the end of an extremely long shower line. I mean I could have climbed to the top of one of those mountains, jumped in a frigid lake, and hiked back before I'd have a turn at getting clean. Not to worry. Remember, I knew the camp inside and out. 

A lone shower stall existed in a meeting room cabin that few people ever entered, so why not? I grabbed my clothes, towel, soap, etc. and snuck into the private shower. This would have been fine had I not been greeted by a cabin full of boys being friendly while I showered, in the nude! Their cabin shared a wall with the meeting room cabin.

"Hello, Joyce!" They all shouted through the walls.

Feeling a bit shocked by the greeting, I didn't worry too much because after all, no one was in my part of the cabin.

"Where are you?"

"Watching you shower."

"Ha. Ha. No, you're not. No one's in this room," so, "Where are you?"

"Look up. There are holes in the wall."

Sure enough, at the top of the shower, several holes punctured the wall. Uh, er, I didn't know about those. Although I couldn't see any eyeballs goggling through, I had to wonder, could they really see me? I sure hoped not. I believe they were just messing with me after seeing me enter the cabin with a towel et al.; however, my friends wouldn't tell what they did or didn't see, so I guess this remains the Ninth Wonder of the World. Feel free to look at my most popular posts if you're curious about the Eighth Wonder of the World.

See you Monday when we explore the letter Ooooooo, which is for Oops and Oliver--the class pet who didn't enjoy his visit at our house.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Broken TV - Go Fish

If you were to replace the most expensive item in your house, what would it be? For us, it's that sixty inch mega giant television in our family room that has just bit the dust. We saw its demise coming with its occasional popping sound before the screen would go blank.

We interrupt this program for an important news announcement **POP** 
or
Detective, we've just figured out who killed Isadore, it was **POP**

Now everytime we turn on the TV, we hear one jar of mus- **POP** or guilt- **POP** In other words, the television broke, and we will be broke too once we purchase a new one. If you've TV shopped recently, you understand this concept.

Last night, we ventured into Best Buys and found a very helpful and very pieced saleslady. Okay, I exaggerate, but she did have the rod through the cartridge, a knob on the tongue, and a few empty holes that probably no one but the earring Nazi (me) noticed. The store walls were covered with flat screens, Plasmas, High Def, LED, 3D, and of course the bibbity-bobbity-boo-I-don't-know-what-to-do type. Long gone are the days of just picking up a box.

Now with a new TV comes the question of what to do with the old one. After all, this gigantic piece stands to my chin but thank God, it's much wider. Erica, my beautiful and brilliant youngest child wants to turn the television box into a gigantic fish tank! We'd clean out the insides, fill it with water, and have sixty inches of aquarium.

Interesting idea because this is not the first time this box has held life. Years ago, a brown recluse got trapped behind the glass. We enjoyed watching her crawl over the face of the annoying Head On lady with her repetitive commercial designed to give us a headache so we'd buy her product. Finally, our friend turned to dust and we can still see her shriveled corpse on the bottom ledge. *sniff*

Interesting idea about the fish, Erica, but no. Instead, I've placed a fun fish tank at the bottom of this blog. Move the arrow, and my fish will follow. Click the mouse and food will drop! Have fun kiddies, and we're off to look at more high tech TVs.

Monday, March 21, 2011

RIP: Apple Blossom


I once was the proud owner of a Liddle Kiddle doll named Apple Blossom. Her flower-covered green hair flowed over her two inch body as she populated the stores sometime around 1967--which means I must have been negative fifteen years old when I got my treasure. Not only was Apple the most beautiful doll I ever owned, but also, when locked inside her container, she carried a fresh perfume scent that stuck around well into my adulthood.

So at age -15, I made a decision. Apple Blossom was too special to be just any doll. I kept her perched in her bottle on top of my dresser. Sure, I played with her. She was the captured princess who couldn't escape her cage. Every so often, I'd open her, take a whiff, stroke her soft hair, and wrap her back in plastic. But I was sure to keep her in mint condition because I knew one day I'd have a daughter and I'd give her this special doll.

The years flew by and sure enough I became a mom. My daughter bubbled when I gave her that amazing doll. Then on that very same day, she lost it.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

3 minute Cake-in-a-Cup

This recipe belongs to Shallee at http://shalleemcarthur.blogspot.com. It looked so wonderful that I had to copy it to my blog so that I wouldn't lose this cool idea. My daughter is putting her mixture in the microwave right now! Uh oh, rising. She needs a larger coffee cup. It oozes upward then sinks down.

And . . . it's . . . a . . .homerun! (With a little Hershey's syrup squeezed over the top). Yeah!

3 minute Cake-in-a-Cup.

4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
1 dash vanilla
1 dash salt (optional)
1 dash baking powder (optional)

Mix all ingredients and microwave for three minutes, and voila! Cake in a cup!

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Funny Scenes in Every Day Life

After I ventured into the restroom at Cosco, I headed out with a great new idea for a comedy scene that I've since added to my work in progress (WIP). It all began when I stuck my hands into the automatic hand dryer, and I thought what would that goofy kid Slater do with this device? Next I knew, I was laughing out loud at my keyboard.

The $1,000,000 question: Do you think my scene is funny?

“Cool, Knob! Look at this.” He pointed to an automatic hand dryer with two silver slabs that faced each other. The top part had a section that curved outward to allow room for a guy to stick his hands inside. A bright yellow line did a crappy job at trying to make the machine pretty.

Slater lowered his hands into the drying machine and caused a deep swooshing sound to fill the bathroom. The motor yelled so loud, I could barely hear him speak.

“What if a guy’s hands don’t fit in this thing? I mean if he weigh six-hundred pounds or something, his fat hands ain’t fitting in here!”

“Not many people weigh six-hundred pounds.”

“But what if he some sumo wrestler or a super hero? Some guy with big old hands that wrestle alligators; he gots to dry his hands too!”

“Maybe there’s a way to push these panels out.” I patted the bottom of the machine for some sort of lever but didn’t find anything. That wasn’t good enough for Slater. He lifted his hands out, leaped onto the floor, and nosed up under the dryer. I couldn’t help but think of all the dirt on a bathroom floor.

“The floors filthy. Get up.”

Slater ignored me. “Here it is.” He flipped some kind of switch and the panels spread outward.

“I need it to dry my hands. Hope it still works.” I lowered my fingers into the dryer. Even though the panels were further apart, my hands got dry. I just had to move them around more. After I pulled them out, I rubbed the back of my dry hands.

“Hey, Knob. Watch this.” Slater lifted himself to his knees and put his head into the machine. The engine roared and noisy air shot out of the panels. The skin on Slater’s cheeks wiggled back and forth like a bulldog shaking loose jowls. As Slater giggled, he must have hit something because the panels moved inward and snapped. Slater tried to move his head out of the machine.

“It stuck, Knob. I is stuck!” As Slater opened his mouth, the dryer caught his spit and sent droplets catapulting across the bathroom floor. The inside of his cheeks ballooned out wide enough to use his face as a parachute and his eyes squinted to keep the air out. A smoky smell filtered from the machine. “Find a knob, Knob. Get me out of here!”

“Let me get help.”

“No-o-o! Some manager dude come in here and he yell!” Slater must have shouted so he could be heard over the roaring motor. “Look below! There a lever down there. Pop it!”

As much as I hated being on that dirty floor, I got on my knees and looked around for the lever. Finally I found it and freed Slater. When he stood up, his cheeks glowed red and his once centered Mohawk had shifted to the left side so that it shot out of his head like a one horned elk. Singed hair lined the tip of his Mohawk.

I hope someone will find this scene funny; but if not, I had a blast writing it!

Friday, January 21, 2011

Between Shades of Gray

I know I haven't posted in a while, and my last blog discussed the colonoscopy, but something new and wonderful is upon us come March 1. Ruta Sepetys will be releasing her first book, "Between Shades of Gray," and it's already proving to be a winner. Check out Kirkus' review: http://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/childrens-books/sepetys-ruta/between-shades-gray/

I'm talking about a beautiful and heart-wrenching story about Lina, a Lithuanian teen, thrust into a brutal environment by the henchmen of Joseph Stalin in the 1940s. Between Shades of Gray is a story of survival and love found in overly harsh conditions. This book reminded me of a classic like Anne Frank and is destined to go far!

Stalking the Bookshelves is giving away an ARC of this book at http://stalkingthebookshelves.blogspot.com/2011/01/arc-tour-between-shades-of-gray.html