The Paranormal

I have always felt a bit unnatural in the kitchen, but tonight even more so.

I'm making a Peanut Butter Pie -
and the recipe calls for me to do this thing
where I am supposed to open a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup,
peel off the little brown paper and then

not eat it.

*

Walk

Last night, went for a walk with the dog down to the end of our country road and back.
Getting dark, the few streetlights flicked on, with long stretches of night in between.
I balanced-beamed the edge of the road, holding the long leash high in one hand, teetering.

Found a miniature soggy Elmo in the street, picked him up and sat him facing
the Pressel boys' house, where I figured he came from.
All those little boys careen daily around their driveway whatever the weather,
in their Big Wheels, and on roller blades, whacking plastic balls with plastic bats everywhere and nowhere in particular. I love the mess of little boys, and picture their mom pushing them out to burn off that crazy boy-energy every afternoon. Now Elmo is waiting patiently for them to come out today.

Smelled a bon-fire, oh joy! Somebody beckoning Spring in the backyard. And a different, sawdust smell (not as sweet), from a tree chopped down near the Baptist pastor's house. Their golden retriever bounded out to meet us and I said aloud, "Here comes trouble," but he was just out to sniff. The hair down the middle of Buddy's back stood up straight, he froze, tense and alert, but didn't bark until the bigger dog bounded away again.

I like it that he really only barks when the danger is far away. Up close, he is terrified of course.

Skipped. Balanced-beamed a little more.

Passed the sign that says, "Children playing" and looked all around but the children were in for the night I guess.

Coming up to the house with two big dogs, we're both always nervous. They bark ferociously and bounce, bounce, bounce until their haunches are just as high as the fence. So far they only jump vertically, and haven't thought of backing up to take a run at the fence. When they do, we're goners because I'm sure they can clear it with enough forward momentum. Facing straight ahead we march with stiff limbs, eyeing friendly doors and low limbs just in case. Safely by, we relax and now there are no more houses.

Just a field on the left, and a marsh on the right and the dog zig-zags to get the best of both smells. Zing! He's off and I stop the leash in time for his long body to whiplash around, and then he turns to strain toward his target. It's a possum, sitting two feet from the road, just a little behind us. Frozen. He barks, barks, barks and I reel him in gently, crooning. Soon as he backs off the possum saunters down to his hole.

I laugh and persuade my tiny fierce hunting dog away, toward the next streetlight, toward the little line in the road that we touch and then turn around to head back. I always imagine this confuses the dog. Because we walk all that way and never really arrive anywhere. Maybe I should stop and point to something or stand still for a few moments. "We have arrived here, and now we are going to go back there." That should be enough for him.

All the way back I felt the wind, cool on my face, through my hair, blessing me. Spring, and walks, and smells, the animals, the life - it is coming, I can feel it.

*

Crumbs

I find it hard to deal with crumbs.

Dirt and grease, no problem.
Scuff marks, syrup blobs, peanut butter smears--I know what to do.
But crumbs just irk me.

You can't really catch up with crumbs.
You....corral them.
You chase them around on the counter with a wet washcloth,
finally u-shaping it so that they are surrounded,
and then do your best to pick them up.
But crumbs....cannot be grasped.

Elusive.

Anyway, stroke of genius today - I have discovered that crumbs can be
sucked up!

My canister vac with hose attachment hoovered them from
the stovetop, the toaster-area, the tiny drawer under the oven,
the edge where they gather around the lazy susan
and joy of joys, the silverware trays.

As an intelligent, educated woman, I am proud to announce that
I was thrilled at the prospect of conquering crumbs today.
This has nothing to do with education, economic status or domestic acuity -

this is just the pure pleasure of making little tiny, annoying, pervasive
things that are bugging me
...disappear.

Ahhhhhhh.

*

Sneezing With Consequences

Walking back to the parking lot after the basketball game,
the husband and I led the way with children trailing.

Suddenly we heard twin boy sneeze
and saw his glasses skid onto the sidewalk in front of us.
We laughed so hard, but it got me to thinking.

I was watching this info-mercial on Bumpits recently.
They're these little plastic hair inserts that you stick on top of your head
and comb hair over to give
"natural volume and lift to otherwise drab hair".

I checked out my otherwise drab hair in the mirror
and realized with certainty that if I were to wear one of those babies out to dinner,
there is no doubt in my mind that before the evening was over I would sneeze
and a Bump-it would land on my salad plate.

*

At Breslin Center

This song was being played by the band when twin girl and I descended all of those steps down to the main floor of the Breslin Center. And I know it's a little corny, but all of a sudden, listening to "Gonna Fly Now", I had this heart-rending moment - this good heart-rending moment - of realization that twin girl had survived, and I with her, and today was a day for celebration.

The Michigan Children's Health-Care Initiative along with the MSU Pediatric Subspecialty Unit at Sparrow Hospital has teamed up with the Michigan State University Women's Basketball Team for a program called, "Kids Of Inspiration". Children are nominated by nurses at Sparrow, and if chosen, get to attend a game at Breslin Center, sit on the main floor right behind the team, and be named, "Junior Coach" for the day.

Today was twin-girl's turn.

Almost exactly two years ago, she had acute appendicitis and was rushed into emergency surgery to remove a huge, inflamed appendix. Two days into the hospital stay, we were devastated with the news that her appendix had contained a cancerous tumor. We listened to possible futures for her -- having another operation to cut out part of her intestine, undergoing chemotherapy and/or radiation, etc. For days we lived with our hearts in our shoes.

Soon we learned that the cancer was confined to her appendix, and the only follow-up care she would need, would be regular CTscans and blood draws over the next five years. Thankfulness doesn't even begin to describe how we felt.

That's her story in a nutshell.

Except that, minor though her trauma was, twin girl deals daily with the fear of any one of us getting sick. She is afraid of tornadoes and bees. She is afraid of accidents and fires. Stomach-aches plague her when the worries get too big. She is a happy, healthy child...but sensitive, and the whole experience has left a deep imprint of the transiency of life on her little soul.

So today, walking down those steps, my eyes brimming with tears, I watched her glowing face and I felt a thankfulness for this little, yet really big day for her. She deserves it. Every child who has had some hurt, big or small, deserves a day where somebody turns to her and says, "You are special."

In fact, they announced it over the loudspeaker, and zoomed in on twin girl so the whole crowd could see her up on the big screen.





























After the game, we were escorted "down the chute" to the locker room. Opening one set of doors, twin girl was greeted by Suzy Merchant who shook her hand and directed us through another set of doors, where the entire team was waiting and erupted into a huge cheer, just for twin girl, as soon as we opened the door. They whooped it up and posed for pictures. She just grinned.




Even the teenager was pulled in for a group picture, quickly followed by a huge group hug that senior (and very special person) Mia Johnson demanded. (plus one additional special child that missed her day with the Spartans the week before)


To see that face, all lit up, because today was her Special Day,
has made me a true Spartan fan. They did it for her.
And I really, really appreciate it.
Go Green!

How Times Have Changed

I guess my evening preparations for a night out on the town
have altered considerably over the years.

Tonight before leaving to meet girlfriends,
I dashed off an e-mail, glanced at the clock
and called out to the kids as I jogged up the stairs,


"Hey guys, I'm leaving as soon as I change my shirt and wash my armpits!"

*

I'll Be Quiet Now

I've been walking around threatening everybody who lives here
with loss of computer and television privileges
until they find that CD soundtrack of High School Musical 3
that they checked out weeks ago
and I just found it in a laundry basket in my bedroom
in a paper bag neatly marked "Library".

My Due

Our computer crashed so I darted into the library
to check e-mail, order some software, and get the contact number for Verizon support.

Imagine my dismay when I was denied computer access because of my overdue fines.

I couldn't be mad, I was guilty as usual.
The librarian was nice about it.
He offered the use of the Express Computer - no good library standing required.

The Express Computer is at the end of the long bank of computers,
(the ones in little carrels, where you can sit and surf for as long as you like.)

The Express Computer has no carrel, and no chair.
As soon as you begin your session, the countdown begins at the top of the screen.
Fifteen minutes.

I grabbed the chance and started typing away, as fast as I could.

Then the library began filling up, and the regular people,
the ones with no library fines,
started seating themselves at the regular computers.

Suddenly I had a little complex.
Here I was, sweating my way through the sites,
speed-typing and jotting info on those little slips of paper they provide,
(with the stubby no-eraser library pencils)
while the Others, the good people, sat in unhurried ease in their carrels.

I kept looking over at the tops of their heads,
bent in concentration and oblivious to my embarassment,
standing there awkardly,
exposed, at the Express Computer,
the one everybody knows is reserved for the likes of me.

Peace!

*

The Stranger and I

I was standing in line to rent a movie on Friday night
behind this couple who were laughing and talking,
when suddenly the man let an exclamatory toot out of his rear end.

He paused in his conversation, but his girlfriend hadn't noticed.

The thing is, I noticed, and he knew I noticed.

When the line moved up, I moved up also,
because even though he knew I knew,
I didn't want to embarass him further by standing back
and leaving a wide space between us.

So there I stood,
right in the middle of the invisible green cloud,
in order to spare the feelings
of a man who was a complete stranger,
and yet,
with whom I shared a terrible secret.

I finished paying for my movie
and stepped to the doorway where
I watched him drive off,
with the girl who was clueless
of the connection that had formed between us
in those few seconds of darkness.

The silence I kept for him.
The placid smile that hadn't wavered on my face.

And I let him go.

Wishing him well,
wishing him...less magical fruit,

I let him go.

*

New Job

Yes, I do have a new job!
This is one of those...
must-wear-shoes and comb-your-hair and leave-the-house
kind of jobs.

The guitar studio where middle child and twin boy take lessons,
asked me to join the staff and last Saturday was my first day!
Today is my second day - I only work Saturdays
and so far have three students.

I have two cute little sisters with purple guitars,
and a fifteen year old boy who wants to learn the bass
so that he can be in his friends' band.
He looks like one of the Jonas brothers,
with curly black hair all in his eyes.

I teach keyboard, guitar and electric bass.

Off to work!

*

The Nerve

Last night I was in a horrible mood
and the husband kept giving me valid solutions for my problems
instead of just letting me wallow in them.

The Teenager

"I just have one thing for you to do while I'm gone. It's very important that you do this - it will take about 10 minutes - before I am home. Do it first, before you do anything else so you don't forget. I'll be gone for two hours, and this 10 minute job is the only thing I want you to do for me. The rest of the time is yours."

These were my instructions to the teenager. He loves being home alone just like me,
but I really needed him to begin supper.

I had the recipe card and all the ingredients set out on the counter.
The measuring cups and spoons, the pan, the wooden spoon, all arranged neatly.
I gave him detailed verbal instructions, as well as the written ones.

Cut vegetables, put them into the pan, turn heat to medium, stir for five minutes.
Add flour and spices, stir for another minute.
Turn off the heat, put the cover on, and leave it until I get home.

So I get a frantic phone call just as I am leaving the store to come home.

"Mom? What...um....I can't remember what I'm supposed to do."

"It's all on the recipe card, just--"

"I can't...I don't know....I think I lost the recipe card."

So I come home to find the vegetables chopped (but not peeled), two bowls setting out on the counter with various ingredients in them, nothing in the pot, the entire length of the counter covered in flour and the agitated teenager standing amidst it all with a small black comb stuck into the top of his head.

It was a scene every mother dreams of.

"How long has that comb been in your hair?"

"Huh?" (feeling atop his head)
"Oh, man, I must have stuck it in there this morning...."

I can't really get mad.
Twin boy reminded me again this morning, kindly, that sometimes I drive past his school and could I please not forget to drop him off this time because he didn't want to be late.

peace.

*

First Real Haircut

Twin girl visited the "beauty salon" for the first time in her life at ten years old.
She loved the idea that it was a professional's job to make her look beautiful.
Isn't this why we all pay good money to sit in the chair???


Twin Girl: Before Haircut


Twin Girl: After Haircut

Twin Boy: Needs A Haircut

*

Cheap Thrills

We're all sitting in the kitchen waiting for someone to call us,
because we just got a new phone and the ringer is set to
Beethoveen's Fifth.


Life is really going to change around here when we get cable.

*

Spoiled

I don't really worry about the fact that my aging car is
making a grinding noise when I turn corners,
or that you have to turn the key around three times before the ignition "catches",
but this morning when I pressed the warm-butt-seat button
I realized with a sudden jolt of anxiety
that one day it was just not going to heat up anymore.

Glamorous

Speeding down the snow-slick road on the way to my new job this morning,
I glanced down and saw the tiny cellophane strip from a feminine product
wrapped around the ring finger of my left hand.

On God and His Reasons

We sat in the chair together, last night, twin boy and I.
Our bodies overlapping slightly, with a blanket,
warm, comfortable,
and we talked of God.

I asked him questions and he answered them fluidly, with confidence.

I asked him how he knew there was a God and he said one reason was
that God had made every person to be so unique,
so different from every other person on earth.

I asked him why he thought God did that.

He said - the main reason that God made us all so different,
is because if we were all the same, we would be lonely.

He said - if we were all the same, then the world would be filled
with all of these people,
but there would still only be one person, really.
And that would be lonely.


I think we should ask children more questions.

*

On Hold

Several things on hold for me in life right now...

but yesterday was a new one.

Jerry Seinfeld on hold!

I'm serious!

I had to call the Academic Superstore to find out where in the heck my Multimedia Fusion 2 is, and I sat on hold for 15 minutes.

I was traveling in the car, multi-tasking (tsk) and remarkably, I was having fun.
Jerry had me laughing aloud!
It got so that I sort of didn't want his jokes to be interrupted by the boring representative who was sure to come on any second and make me miss the next joke.

So I listened happily, thinking, "Now THIS is being on hold!"

And then it happened.
The jokes started looping.
My smile froze and then my teeth clenched together.
The dark cloud descended.

It was terrible. It was worse than Muzak.
Hearing jokes repeated - the same 14 jokes played over and over and over
can really grind on you.
You feel sort of tricked, because you remember laughing naively the first time.
Little did you know, the whole loop was a sort of evil mockery.
Got your hopes up? DASHED!!!

On the upside, I did find a really cool outfit at Goodwill yesterday.
$8.52!!! Shirt, pants, belt.
Yeah!

*

Solid

Hey all, check out this link and see the world's stiffest woman!
I always thought I moved around when I played, but apparently I am stiff as a board.

Just wait: next time,

Solid Gold Dancer on bass.

Creole gig


Peace!

Tagged

Hey I got tagged by Beth, a fellow blogger who writes about life as the principal of an elementary school - I love reading from "the other side of the wall" and wondering how similar her experiences are to my own children's dear principal.

And now I'm concerned that I may have placed the apostrophe in the wrong place in the sentence above. Anyone?

Thanks for the good news in the last post! Makes me realize that I have way more good news than I remember most of the time.

Six random things....

#1 Last night I played in a cool little venue called The Creole Gallery, and it was SOLD OUT! I did not think we'd have a crowd on a Wednesday night, especially with the cold - that was fun! That's me with the electric bass, and my cousin is also in the band - he is on your left, and plays all sorts of really interesting percussion instruments.

Wow that was a long first random thing. I could have just said, "I'm in a band."

#2 My favorite candies of all time are Whoppers and Strawberry Twizzlers.

#3 I am a vegetarian but I've fallen off the wagon in the past year. I don't eat it often, but every once in a while...bring on the beef.

#4 My secret wish has always been to be a Solid Gold Dancer.

#5 I can't figure out my hair.

#6 I have a mysterious talent for interpreting dreams, determining dog breed mixes, and writing out imaginary conversations for people who are not sure what to say in most any situation.

I think I kind of cheated and put three in one there at the end. Oh well.

I'm tagging Kelle, Molly, KEK, Kristy, Carin and Diane.

*

Good News

Anybody ready for good news?

I'm just ready to hear something good for a change.

For anyone who leaves a comment here with Good News of ANY kind -
personal news,
local news,
national or world news...

I will put your name into a hat, pick one,
and send the lucky winner a refrigerator magnet from my good friend
Evan G. Vanderwey,
the home loan represenative who is lurking around my mailbox,
hoping to help me take out a second mortgage
when the Teenager begins college.

Go AWAY Evan!

sheesh.

But he has a nice face, he looks young and hopeful.
He'd look good on your fridge.

*

Tears

Sometimes you just need a good cry.

And sometimes, you need a knock-down drag-out, full-blown sob session.
Where you can't catch your breath,
where you can't see any positive light at the end of the tunnel,
where there seems no way out,
in the middle of the night, in the dark, all alone.

Where you hope somebody hears you and comes downstairs to pat you on the back.
But you hold to the secrecy of your tears
just as much as to your need to share them.

I had a night like that, just two nights ago,
and it's no secret that it was the end of a long day,
where I had been away from the children for so many hours,
and had come home to their funny little beautiful hand-wrapped gifts.

And that the very next day, they were all loading into their grandparents' car,
to travel three hours away for fun and swimming.
They were going away and it just came at a bad time for me.
I needed them home but I didn't have any right to keep them there.
They had a great offer elsewhere, you know?

The thought just came to me in the middle of the night:

They're all I got.

All four of them, in one car, on one slippery highway,
in the middle of winter, on Super Bowl Sunday...
it suddenly felt...
dangerous,
hurried,
tempting fate.

So I cried.

Wishing they could stay home.
Wishing I could go with them.
Feeling like I was dealing way way too casually
with these precious little people.

The husband came down, eventually, to pat me on the back
and listen, and soothe.
I understood his words, they all made sense, but honestly,
I just wasn't through getting it all out.
I was on a roll, spouting this injustice and that one,
crumpling tissue after tissue and throwing them passionately to the floor
with each new fear that surfaced.

Finally, when he thought it was over, I said,

"And I have to tell you something."

There was a pause, and then a serious,
"Go ahead."

I let it all out then,

"I (gasp)
Hate(gasp)
Cherry(gasp)
Twizzlers." (sob)

"I hate them.
They taste like plastic.
I like the Strawberry ones.
I have never liked Cherry.
And every year you give them to me for my birthday
and I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I didn't say anything
but if I don't say something now you will just keep getting them for me
for the rest of my life and I just don't want anyMO-HO-HORE!" sobsobsob.

He tried not to laugh, bless him.
He patted me on the back and promised new Twizzlers tomorrow.

Sometimes...you know?

You just need a good cry.

*

Slim

On my way home from the solo and ensemble event yesterday,
I had to stop at Meijer.
I was soooooo tired after playing piano for nearly 9 hours straight...
and I just wanted to get home.

I was starved too, and, it was my Birthday!

So I perused the deli area, looking for something quick to grab -
something that I normally would never buy for myself (as a birthday treat)
but I was in too much of a hurry and couldn't find anything that looked good.

I grabbed the ear-plugs that I came for from Sporting Goods (long story),
and veered toward the check-out lane.
I was on Empty, big-time - tired, sort of depressed
and just wanting to be Home with my feet up.

Standing in the check-out aisle, I absently looked at the stuff there,
mentally reminding myself not to fall sucker to all of those impulse items.
Nail clippers, dog bones, mints, gum,
and weird things like black combs, lint brushes and light-up keychains.

Suddenly I perked up. I NEVER buy impulse items in the check-out lane,
but today was my Birthday,
and I was going to be impulsive.

Yeah, that's right.

I made the decision instantly and started throwing things onto the belt.
It wasn't really much to speak of, just a bag of licorice Snaps,
a three-pack of some kind of dark chocolate truffle and,
(this is wear it gets good),
a Slim Jim.

Not one of those shorty Slim Jims, oh no, this was the big long Slim Jim.
The real McCoy.
My mood changed instantly, from dragging to alert.
I could not WAIT to get into the car.

As soon as I was on the road I was unwrapping those truffles and I ate two of them in a row.
They were SO good.
The kind of good that you experience when you're starving, you know what I mean.
Then I eyed Jim.
I was actually giving myself a little talk, "You really going to eat that?"

I ripped it open and took a bite.

And it was everything I remember from the last time I had one,
which is when I was about 9 years old on a camping trip.

The thing about a Slim Jim is that there is no subtlety involved.
The whole experience is one of major, in-your-face sensation.

First of all, you can't nibble delicately on a Slim Jim.
You have to grab it with your back molars and yank off a hunk.
Then as you chew, you wonder if you were supposed to peel the thing or something -
it has a kind of "skin" that you just have to commit to or quit.
The flavor is smoky, firey, spicey and intense.
The after-taste is greasy, salty, and stings your throat.
You don't really want any more after two bites, but you go back for the buzz.

I made myself eat the whole thing, feeling dangerous and irresponsible.
Afterwards, I ate the last truffle, but it's flavor was reduced.
I could barely taste it at all, actually.
I couldn't face the Snaps.

But after that, I felt pretty good.
I didn't get sick, and I wasn't hungry anymore.
My mouth was numb, but I was awake.

I got home and stuffed the grocery bag into the garbage before anyone could see.
I had this delicious sense of having got away with something.

p.s. I just searched "Slim Jim" and found this site:
http://www.spicyside.com/
where reside people who like Slim Jims.
Their names, I'm not kidding, are:
Freaky Keith, Insane Kim and Twisted Paul.

yeah that's right.

*

I'll Take Them

And a big thank-you goes out to Evan at Cornerstone Home Loans,
who sent me heartfelt greetings for my birthday.
Along with a refrigerator magnet.

I like the cards from the real estate lady too.

And the ones our church secretary slides under our pastor's hand to have him sign.

They all count.

I know, it's dumb.
But I like them.

Peace.

*

What Do I "Do"?

Last night, band rehearsal until late.
Up early this morning to go to the high school.
Rehearsed with solo students from 7:45-1pm.
Pick up children at 3.
Give lesson from 3:15-3:45.
Drive into town for hair cut at 4.
Home by 5:30, get supper ready.
Leave by 6:30 for church band rehearsal.

Spending tomorrow rehearsing some of the 28 pieces of music
that I will play on Saturday.
Arrive at the event an hour away by 7:30.
Dash from room to room, accompanying choir students,
straight through until 5.

Come home and start preparing some bass music.
Students on Monday and Tuesday,
bass gig on Wednesday.
Back to the school to rehearse the band students for their festival.
Another event next Saturday.

Some people ask me what I do, "...now that the children are all in school?"
Huh?
I always have a hard time saying and it bugs me.

I do laundry.
I plan and cook meals and grocery shop.
I pick up after everybody.
I prepare musically for students, for church, for bands, for the school.
I write music, play my bass, and the piano when I need to.
I put my head down until my brain clears.
I field phone calls and plan birthday parties.
I take children to lessons and supervise their practice.
I read aloud to them.
I try to listen to their stories, keep them from fighting,
and give them creative things to do.

But since I can't nail down exactly what I do without bending someone's ear for 5 minutes,
I usually just mumble, "Well...I practice my bass, and um...laundry."

One of these days I'm going to come up with a really cool name for whatever it is that I do.
Until then....

there's a pile of "whites" in the basement calling my name...

Peace.

*

Check It Out

Ahhh, a friend borrowed this from the library.
For me.

It is something special, when another will look closely enough,
beyond the facade,
the mask,
the trying oh-so-hard to live up to others' expectations,
to see you how you really are,
and to say,

"you are something good."

Thanks to my friend.

History

I sat on my couch, all wrapped up in the big red blanket,
watching history,
just a few minutes ago.

I watched a black man become President of the United States.

I listened to the music, and to the words, and watched the faces of the crowd.

I saw our flag waving above it all.

I am not a politician,
not an activist.
Not a Republican,
not a Democrat.

Some people say that I am naive.
A dreamer.
It's probably true.

But sometimes good things happen,
sometimes dreams come true.

I wish it weren't such a moment of history,
a black man becoming president.
It shouldn't mean anything at all.

But there was a day
when a day like today,
would have been an impossible dream.

It is a good sign for all of us everywhere,
that that day is no more.


*

Numbers

I was getting groceries and picked up some cute little bangle bracelets for the girls.
Normally $5...but 75% off, I LOVE 75% off!

In fact, I'm a sucker for 75% off. I have bought WAY too much junk over the years, just for the thrill of doing that math in my head and coming up with the final sum.

It's close to the heady rush I get from Free Food, but not quite.
And that's another post.

So at the register, imagine my dismay when the price came up as $2.50.
Ummm.....according to my lightning-quick math skills, that would be 50% off,
and not acceptable, oh no.

So I politely alerted the cashier.

She looked like someone who had, seconds earlier,
been pulling the pin-curls out of her hair in her own home,
when suddenly and without warning, her body had materialized
at this very register, and now a woman was moving her mouth in front of her,
but only making unintelligible sounds.

I wanted to wave my hand in front of her face to make her blink.

Instead, I repeated myself patiently,

"This is supposed to be 75% off, but it's ringing up at $2.50."

Again, the look of total incomprehension.

I tried a new tact,

"Well, 75% off of $5 would make it $1.25."

Ah, this time she responded, pecking numbers into the machine.

I watched the screen carefully,

$1.75

mmmmm....

Now another person could let that go.

I opened my mouth though,

"ummmm, actually, it should be a dollar twenty-five."

She looked at me doubtfully and now I was alarmed.
Did she think I was putting one over on her?
I grabbed my cool spiral notebook and flipped the page over.

"See," I say, scrawling numbers down,
"75% of five dollars is $3.75",
(blank look)
"and see," I say, angling the paper toward her,
"you subtract that from five dollars, and you're left with a dollar twenty-five."

She looked up from my calculations and shrugged,

"Whatever you say."

I think my mouth was hanging open at that point.
I really wanted to go over this with her again, but the line behind me was lengthening.

I wanted to teach her.
I wanted her to understand.

I went home and did math facts with twin girl instead.

*

Can't Leave Her Alone For A Minute

It seems to me that when left alone too long,
I tend to conjure up my own disasters.

Yesterday, it was my last living Tupperware dish.
I put the frozen bread inside to thaw,
and,
with a quick look around the kitchen,
decided that the oven was the best place to keep it
until I needed to roll it out for pizza dough.

I said to myself, aloud, "Don't turn that oven on."
A little friendly reminder.
Totally unnecessary of course.

Within the hour, folks, I had decided to warm up the
rest of last night's supper,
and turned that sucker on to, "Low Broil."

Not low enough, apparently.

The bread was saved.
The lid to the dish, not.

Today it is the laundry.
While filling the washer with dark clothes,
I carefully poured bleach into the fabric softener dispenser.
Shrieking, I started pulling out all of the dark clothes
and throwing them into the laundry tub.
The spasmodic flinging of clothing jostled the dispenser
and bleach droplets flew everywhere making it way worse.
I filled the tub with cold water and rinsed rinsed rinsed.
My daughter's new skinny jeans were in peril.
I took off my own jeans and threw them into the water as well.
(That bleach went everywhere).

Still acting without thinking,
I looked at the bleachy water inside the washer
and decided to run a small load of whites in order
to help dispel all the bleach. In they went.

Only I didn't think about the fact that the darks were all
in the laundry tub that the washer drains into,
and if I turned that washer on, it would most surely overflow the tub
and flood the basement.
One load of completely soggy clothing would have to be moved.

I was left standing in my underwear, staring at the mess
that I had created in less than 3 minutes total,
afraid to touch anything else.

All by myself, folks.

*