"Mom, there's a wasp in the living room."
I pause and look at little man, wondering if he will ever realize the look is of shock value.
"You have to kill it." He tells me.
Sigh. "Okay." Off to my chemical closet to find the most potent form of household cleaner, i.e. bug killer. Yes, I squirt them to death.
Upon showing up at the battlefield with my weapon of choice, bleach, I notice that it's not a wasp. It's one of them there queen bees. A really big queen bee.
"We can't kill it." I explain to little man. "We have to get her outside. She's important to nature. She's the one that pollinates the flowers. I think."
"So what are you going to do?" Little man inquires.
"I'm going to have to catch her and put her outside." I explain as I dig through the cabinets for some sort of apparatuses to catch our house guest, a queen bee. I miraculously find two small bowls and explain how I plan on getting the queen bee in one of the bowls and covering it with the other one for her transport to nature, where she belongs.
Plan B is underway. I tell little man to open the front door, so when I capture her, I can get outside quickly.
As I gently and quietly approach our guest with a small bowl in each hand, I say a prayer.
Little man flees the scene.
I tapped the queen bee who was sitting comfortably on our window sill ever so lightly with one of my bowls and she buzzed off the window sill and flew right out the front door.
Amen.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
BC
"It's just not fair." I say to Samantha over dinner.
"I wanted to meet at my house and order the Polynesian." She says.
"I had perfectly good chilli to defrost." I add.
Miranda sighed and once again explained that she enjoys cooking, and she had her dog to contend with. "I can't leave the dog all day, then all night."
"You guys can do it. It'll just have to be on the weekend." Miranda further explains.
"Two weekends ago we were supposed to go out and we had to come here." I mumble.
Miranda sighs. Samantha giggles.
In an attempt to change the subject, I remind them "The weather is getting nicer and I have the grill!"
Without missing a beat, and with a flat and slow sarcastic tone, Miranda says, "Right. . .the grill."
Miranda was over my house for one of my summer barbies and left overly concerned at how I lit the grill. She did not approve of my 'Clear the area, turn the gas on, stand back four feet and start tossing lit matches at my grill' procedure. I did not know there was a hole on the side of the grill for lighting purposes, nor did I know that the button to ignite the grill had a battery that probably needed to be changed.
"Why don't we read about you in the paper?" Samantha asked.
The dinner was great, and Miranda was doing dishes when she noticed her dog standing at the back door, staring at it. "One minute Poochy, I will let you out when I'm done." Samantha and I just looked at one another "I'll do it!" I say and volunteer to let the dog out. Miranda explains that because of the weather you have to stand there and watch her so she comes right back in and not be left outside in the rain. "Okay." I say, but I'm thinking "Of course!" So as I'm watching the dog do her business, I notice that in Miranda's large back yard, there's a long rectangular space, filled with obviously new dirt, edged with dark gated borders, complete with angels and other spiritual yard ornaments at one end.
The dog was done, I let her in, everyone was back at the table when I said to Miranda, "You know I loved your mother, and I believe she's in a better place, bless her soul. . .but did you bury her in the back yard?"
"What?" Samantha jumped up to look outside.
"I know. Everyone is saying that." Miranda says.
"Maye it's something you need to talk about. Grieving. Are you okay?"
"It's just a garden space." She explains.
Then I think to myself. Maybe there's a another reason why we always have to come to Miranda's and she always has to cook.
"I wanted to meet at my house and order the Polynesian." She says.
"I had perfectly good chilli to defrost." I add.
Miranda sighed and once again explained that she enjoys cooking, and she had her dog to contend with. "I can't leave the dog all day, then all night."
"You guys can do it. It'll just have to be on the weekend." Miranda further explains.
"Two weekends ago we were supposed to go out and we had to come here." I mumble.
Miranda sighs. Samantha giggles.
In an attempt to change the subject, I remind them "The weather is getting nicer and I have the grill!"
Without missing a beat, and with a flat and slow sarcastic tone, Miranda says, "Right. . .the grill."
Miranda was over my house for one of my summer barbies and left overly concerned at how I lit the grill. She did not approve of my 'Clear the area, turn the gas on, stand back four feet and start tossing lit matches at my grill' procedure. I did not know there was a hole on the side of the grill for lighting purposes, nor did I know that the button to ignite the grill had a battery that probably needed to be changed.
"Why don't we read about you in the paper?" Samantha asked.
The dinner was great, and Miranda was doing dishes when she noticed her dog standing at the back door, staring at it. "One minute Poochy, I will let you out when I'm done." Samantha and I just looked at one another "I'll do it!" I say and volunteer to let the dog out. Miranda explains that because of the weather you have to stand there and watch her so she comes right back in and not be left outside in the rain. "Okay." I say, but I'm thinking "Of course!" So as I'm watching the dog do her business, I notice that in Miranda's large back yard, there's a long rectangular space, filled with obviously new dirt, edged with dark gated borders, complete with angels and other spiritual yard ornaments at one end.
The dog was done, I let her in, everyone was back at the table when I said to Miranda, "You know I loved your mother, and I believe she's in a better place, bless her soul. . .but did you bury her in the back yard?"
"What?" Samantha jumped up to look outside.
"I know. Everyone is saying that." Miranda says.
"Maye it's something you need to talk about. Grieving. Are you okay?"
"It's just a garden space." She explains.
Then I think to myself. Maybe there's a another reason why we always have to come to Miranda's and she always has to cook.
Friday, April 8, 2011
It's Friday
So don't eat meat!
How many times have I heard that in the last few weeks? It's funny how I remember as a child my mother remembering that it was Friday during a steak dinner and freaking out. Throwing the food down, clearing our dishes and miraculously finding a meat-free alternative.
As a child born and raised catholic, I followed the traditions that I was forced too, but I never understood why.
Now as a Christian and an adult, I preach to those who feel it necessary to remind me that it's Friday and I can't eat meat, here are a few:
"That's a Catholic tradition. I don't abide to that."
"That's one of them there traditions that is a nice tradition, but not a requirement."
"Where does it say that?"
"Not necessary!"
The funny thing that dawned on me is that those who are reminding me to not eat meat, know that I'm a church goer and pray and exist oh so spiritual, yet they seem to think that because I know God, I'm automatically supposed to be adhereing to those traditions.
This area is a very confused area because of the high Catholic presence, and I used to be one of them.
How many times have I heard that in the last few weeks? It's funny how I remember as a child my mother remembering that it was Friday during a steak dinner and freaking out. Throwing the food down, clearing our dishes and miraculously finding a meat-free alternative.
As a child born and raised catholic, I followed the traditions that I was forced too, but I never understood why.
Now as a Christian and an adult, I preach to those who feel it necessary to remind me that it's Friday and I can't eat meat, here are a few:
"That's a Catholic tradition. I don't abide to that."
"That's one of them there traditions that is a nice tradition, but not a requirement."
"Where does it say that?"
"Not necessary!"
The funny thing that dawned on me is that those who are reminding me to not eat meat, know that I'm a church goer and pray and exist oh so spiritual, yet they seem to think that because I know God, I'm automatically supposed to be adhereing to those traditions.
This area is a very confused area because of the high Catholic presence, and I used to be one of them.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Kidisms
I write a lot about my little man, because not only is he the love of my life, but he's so funny.
We frequent a corner deli/butcher around here, often stopping in for last minute dinner menu items, snacks, and the Sunday donut. The guys who work there are very nice and often tease little man about working there.
Last week the working conversation got intense, the employee telling little man that he could start tomorrow, early in the morning, like 6:00 a.m. Little man argued that he was too young to work, yet, I was nodding in agreement that he should work starting now. . imagine the things it would teach him! The work conversation lasted for a while, little man asking questions ever so inquisitively, the employee doing a great job at explaining the job duties of working at the deli/butcher.
A few days passed and one morning we stopped in our favorite spot, I reminding little man: we're in, we're out. I was to busy focusing on my purchase when my little man noticed the small child, age 3, behind the counter. One of the employees brought his little man to work with him as a child-care alternative.
"They weren't joking about making me work." He said as he eye-balled the child behind the counter.
Everyone laughed.
We frequent a corner deli/butcher around here, often stopping in for last minute dinner menu items, snacks, and the Sunday donut. The guys who work there are very nice and often tease little man about working there.
Last week the working conversation got intense, the employee telling little man that he could start tomorrow, early in the morning, like 6:00 a.m. Little man argued that he was too young to work, yet, I was nodding in agreement that he should work starting now. . imagine the things it would teach him! The work conversation lasted for a while, little man asking questions ever so inquisitively, the employee doing a great job at explaining the job duties of working at the deli/butcher.
A few days passed and one morning we stopped in our favorite spot, I reminding little man: we're in, we're out. I was to busy focusing on my purchase when my little man noticed the small child, age 3, behind the counter. One of the employees brought his little man to work with him as a child-care alternative.
"They weren't joking about making me work." He said as he eye-balled the child behind the counter.
Everyone laughed.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Kidisms
About a month ago, my friends and I were discussing vacations. One of the bestest opted for Florida, a Disney get-away.
"Ugh." I said.
Nevermind the cost, it's the fact that I did the Disney thing, the Florida thing, and planned on going to Florida this past fall but my plans fell through. I'm anti-Florida at this stage of the game.
So I asked little man, "If we could go anywhere in the United States, where would it be?"
"Vegas." He automatically replied.
He never ceases to amaze me, or should I say shock me. I don't ever recall having a 'Vegas' conversation with him, or mentioning Vegas to him, ever. It's not on my top ten destination lists so I had absolutely no clue where this came from.
Some pondering, research and a voice of reason made me think Virginia.
"I don't want to go there." He adamantly refused this destination.
"Why not?" I asked.
"They have slaves there." He told me.
Apparently, he didn't grasp the timeline of Black History Month. He did however grasp the heroic stories of this Nation's great history. I played up the history with Colonial Williamsburg and he told me it sounded "creepy." Now my feelings were hurt because Colonial Williamsburg is on my dream destination list. Little man finally agreed to Virginia, but only if it's a city. He wants to stay in a city.
We found a city in Virgina not far from Colonial Williamsburg.
I can't wait.
"Ugh." I said.
Nevermind the cost, it's the fact that I did the Disney thing, the Florida thing, and planned on going to Florida this past fall but my plans fell through. I'm anti-Florida at this stage of the game.
So I asked little man, "If we could go anywhere in the United States, where would it be?"
"Vegas." He automatically replied.
He never ceases to amaze me, or should I say shock me. I don't ever recall having a 'Vegas' conversation with him, or mentioning Vegas to him, ever. It's not on my top ten destination lists so I had absolutely no clue where this came from.
Some pondering, research and a voice of reason made me think Virginia.
"I don't want to go there." He adamantly refused this destination.
"Why not?" I asked.
"They have slaves there." He told me.
Apparently, he didn't grasp the timeline of Black History Month. He did however grasp the heroic stories of this Nation's great history. I played up the history with Colonial Williamsburg and he told me it sounded "creepy." Now my feelings were hurt because Colonial Williamsburg is on my dream destination list. Little man finally agreed to Virginia, but only if it's a city. He wants to stay in a city.
We found a city in Virgina not far from Colonial Williamsburg.
I can't wait.
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