Category Archives: Overheard

Bad day for the itsy bitsy spider

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It’s summer in Florida which means plenty of rain and thunderstorms in between blazing hot and steamy weather.  it’s also the season when daddy-long-leg spiders tend to invade the bathtubs after said rain.

Today was the second and final day of the great toy purge (which was sold to the resident toy users as a toy “sorting and organizing” project) which I’ve been procrastinating, successfully, for quite some time now.   During the course of it, we came across some great little spinning tops and the launcher they work with (the ones you sent, Mom – they are still a big hit).  These had been long forgotten, no doubt buried at the bottom of a bin filled with toy and gamepiece shrapnel for who-knows-how-many months, so it was like a new toy again.  Sometime later, I was done enlisting their help with the sorting phase and off they went to play (thus enabling me to engage in the purging phase without the customary weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth).

Before long, I hear them in the bathroom that is just off the bedroom turned tv/playroom/toy warehouse where I’m restoring order.  Since eavesdropping on their play is some of the best entertainment available to me, I’m listening as I go about my wanton discarding of stuff.  I figure out from their chatter that they are launching the top into the bathtub.  I foolishly assume this is because they are heeding my 17 warnings (and that’s only today’s count) that they are all big enough to keep track of their own toys and put them back etc. and *I* won’t be doing this all-weekend job again (i.e. “you keep it sorted and put away because the next time I had to do it I’ll just be putting it all in the garbage”).  Obviously, they’ve taken my words to heart and so are launching the tops in tub where they can’t possibly get lost, right?

Um, no.  Turns out they’re shooting spiders, so to speak. Or a spider – I’m not sure.  This game went on for some time, though, with much discussion as to how each new launch should or should not be recalibrated to increase the probability of a hit.  Apparently, “aiming” a spinning top is more a matter of luck than skill.  Fortunately for them, a spider in a tub isn’t exactly going to make a getaway so they could take all the practice shots they needed.

A little later my presence was requested in the bathroom to “demonstrate our top secret mission”.  Who knew that spiders in tubs were such a security threat?  It’s a shame the spiders don’t have a better intelligence network – they could get the word out to the rest of the arachnid kingdom that the inside of my house is a combat zone and they’d be best to avoid it.  I’d be fine with them passing the word along to the whole of the insect world, actually.

The construction project

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The boys wanted to build a train track.  DH gets drafted for this everytime.  Just overheard “where are all my support engineers?”

I think maybe once they drafted him on the project, they lost interest and he found himself alone on the construction site.  LOL.

The insidious undersea dweller strikes again

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Just home from soccer and DS2 and DS3 want snacks.

DS3:  Can I have a Spongebob Gogurt?

Me: Sure (we just got these – have only had the regular ones before, not the SBSP ones)

DS3 opens it and takes a bite (I keep them frozen)

DS2: What does it taste like?

DS3:  (totally deadpan) Tastes like plankton.

So, even though we’ve declared the house a SBSP-free zone (as in, I blocked the offending channels so he can’t be viewed.  Somehow the little crappy fastfood toys still find their way into our house) for months, his influence lives on.

I suspect that DS3 would be in for quite a surprise should he ever have the opportunity to taste plankton if he thinks the gogurt tastes like it.

Doggy, let’s play booty crash

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DS2 and DS3 were “sneaking” up to my office last night to say goodnight.  I say “sneaking” because I heard them from 40 feet.  Rather than hearing the customary “BOO!” as they jump into the doorway, I heard this “Doggy, let’s play booty crash”.  Which, of course, I just had to go observe.

Why “doggy”?  Well, that is because DS3 has been pretending to be a dog for, oh, the last 19 weeks or so.  All.The.Time.  Well, ok, presumably he knocks it off at least some of the time at preschool.  But, he is a dog named Rarfy.  And he refers to his meals as doggie food etc.  Much to the chagrin of DS1 who is more than a little tired of the routine.

But, anyway… the thing is, if you’re really looking for him to cooperate with something, your odds go way up if you address him as Rarfy or Doggy.  So, presumably, DS2 was just trying to play the odds and increase his chances of playing booty crash at the moment.  Naturally, I just had to find out what that would entail, exactly.

So, there they are in the hall about 6 feet apart facing away from each other.  They’re a little bent over with their butts sticking out in the direction of the other.  On cue, DS2 starts making his “heavy equipment backing up” cautionary beeping noise while DS3 is saying “boo-tay… boo-tay”… “boo-tay” and they backup quickly till … well, yeah, they crash butts.  Of course.  What else could it be?

This is, of course, followed by collapsing in a heap together on the floor and laughing hysterically.  I guess I should enjoy the easily-amused phase while it lasts.   I do realize that they will, of course, embarrass me in public with this at some point.  At the time, though, I cracked up.

The apple and the tree

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More stuff from the Sent folder.  This one requires a little background.  My 4 brothers still love to keep a “torment Rose” sort of joke going to this day some 30+ years after it started.  It went something like this (although there could be numerous variations on the theme)… it’s dessert time and my job is to serve, say, cake and ice cream.  So I’d ask who wants ice cream on their cake and my brothers would proceed to make me nuts by saying “I don’t” which wasn’t what I asked.  I was only looking to hear from who did.  So, I soon adopted it to “who wants ice cream on their cake, if you answer me it means you do”.   They’d still do it, I’d still get mad. Rinse lather repeat, ad nauseum till we all (ostensibly – although the fact that they still enjoy doing this to me would seem to provide evidence otherwise) grew up.  So… here’s a note I sent to them.

 OK, the inlaws may have to ask their spouse why this might be perceived as humorous.  (I just found my voice recorder a.k.a. surrogate memory so now I can share this) So, the boys are playing I spy in the van and [DS1] is doing the spying.  [DS2&3] are not guessing it so [DS1] says “do you give up, do you give up?”  [DS2] and [DS3] say “nope”.  [DS1] says “So, don’t say anything.  Only answer if you give up.  So… do you give up”  [DS2] and [DS3] “no”.  

[DS1] “ONLY SAY SOMETHING IF YOU GIVE UP.  IF YOU SAY ANYTHING, IT MEANS YOU GIVE UP.  … So, do you give up?” 

[DS2&3] “No”.   It was very, very hard for me not to LOL.  A lot.