Rugrats and Dirty Rugs

"You know what, Mom?" "What, Sleepy?" "Inside your eye is disgusting stuff." "Oh." I take a moment to laugh. "Yeah. Bashful and Grumpy looked into my eye and said there is disgusting stuff in there." Okay, then.

One evening, while visiting my parents, I decided to give my rank toddler a bath. I plopped him down on the floor and looking into the tub, my face scrunched into confusion. This was an older tub and didn't have any mechanism to plug it up. I knew my parents had a special plug for it, but I couldn't find it anywhere. So, I yelled down the stairs, "Mom! Where's the plug to the bathtub?" To prove that I am getting old in more ways than one, I thought I heard her say it was on the floor next to the tub. The only plug I could see was the toilet plunger. "Huh," I muttered, and grabbed it. I stuck that dang toilet plunger into the tub to see if it would plug up. As I pushed it down, it popped right back up and I said to Sneezy, "They can't be using the toilet plunger to plug up the bathtub." My face was a study in confusion as I yelled down the stairs, "Do you mean the toilet plunger, Mom?" just to make sure our wires weren't cro...

Bashful comes in the house after having a rousing, good time outside playing with some neighborhood boys. He bypasses the kitchen and troops downstairs to the bathroom. He happily explains to me that there is yet another boy to play with while turning on the bathroom faucet. I interrupt his dialogue to inform him that we do have cups in the kitchen and he is quite able to fill one with water from the kitchen sink. The boy looks at me as if I have suggested something totally incomprehensible. His expression was like, "Why would I do something like that?" and proceeded to bend over and put his mouth in the running water. I'm raising a bunch of barbarians.

This morning, I announced to the boys that two new movies would be arriving in the mail soon. Happy anticipated this with bated breath. He even knew what time the mail lady usually arrived and asked if he could go outside and get the mail. He put on a mismatched outfit and shoes and trudged out the door. After a while, I came out of my daze and noticed that there was no Happy exclaiming his excitement and waving the tell-tale red envelopes in the air. I called and called for him in the house and then Grumpy noticed that Happy was still outside. We realized that the mail hadn't arrived yet because Happy had decided to lie down on the ground and wait for it come.

It was time to go to another birthday party. We were rushing out the door as usual when I noticed that Grumpy had yet to put some socks on. I told him to go find some and went out to the car. I mentally crossed my fingers and thought, "He can find his own socks, for Pete's sake! He's nine!" We sat in the car and waited for him to come out so that we could be on our way. We arrived at the party all accounted for and I told the boys to take their shoes off when we got in the door. I was talking to a friend of mine when she looked behind me and started laughing. I turned around and there was Grumpy with only one sock on. "Wha....where is your other sock?" I demanded huffily. He sheepishly replied, "I couldn't find another one."

A few months back, my husband bought an exercise bike. Oh, joy. I pointed to the general direction of the TV and said he better put it there if he expects it to be used at all. I love to kill two birds with one stone. I have neglected that poor bike and dust has settled over it for the past couple (okay, maybe a few) weeks. Last night, I discovered a box of Ghiardelli chocolate-covered pretzels. Considering my weakness for chocolate and the empty bag this morning, maybe I should dust off that exercise bike.

One beautiful summer day, Doc, the boys, and I were visiting beautiful West Virginia and my family. We were sitting out on the deck scattered around in chairs and Mom was making dinner for us all. She made fried chicken and homemade French fries. We sat outside and enjoyed our feast and ever since then, I've craved that meal with more than just hunger pains. Tonight, I'm making a dummed-down version of that meal.......shake-n-bake......because I can't make fried chicken. I am making homemade French fries, though. I'm going to eat this meal with Doc and the boys and I'm going to miss you, Mom. Now, I better go before I burn it.

My parents have the cutest dog in the world. He is a cocker spaniel and his name is Buddy. He is aptly named because he is my dad's buddy. He loves cuddling with him in his favorite chair or sleeping with him in bed. Buddy is twelve years old now and deaf as a doorknob. (or is it doornail? Whatever.) He is a barking dog and now that he is older there are times when he doesn't realize that there are people walking their dogs on the street and my parents will get a reprieve from the ferocious barking and snarling of teeth (a little exaggerated, of course, for dramatic purposes). He will occasionally see the passing car by chance and bark his ever-lovin' head off and I'll hear my mom yell the usual, "Buddy!" and I often wonder if he even hears her. He can still see her face, though, and the firm, no-nonsense look she gives him quiets the dog, but I can tell how hard it is for him not to bark by the continued rumbling in his throat. While visiting about a week...

Sleepy and I were going over body part names this morning. He asked, "What are these bumpy things on my hands called?" I said, "They're called knuckles." "Oh. Where's my chest?" I pointed to the general area. He was quiet for a second and then pointed to his head and announced, "And this is my melon!"