I question not if thrushes sing,
If roses load the air;
Beyond my heart I need not reach
When all is summer there.
— John Vance Cheney
Welcome to Great Balls Of Fire- July Fly On The Wall!
Have you ever thought about what people might think if they saw what goes on behind-the-scenes at your house? Do you ever wonder what it would be like to catch a glimpse of someone else’s daily life? Here’s your chance. Today 12 bloggers are inviting you into their homes to be a fly on the wall.
The real, the weird, the life as only my circus can live it…
“Good Golly, Miss Molly!” the Handsome Prince exclaims.
Thus triggering Miss Lyss to leap into a grand rendition of Great Balls Of Fire…
I thought I’d take the family to a local water park for a bit of rest, some sun and some fun.
Within the first twenty minutes at the park, I got into an argument with a snotty teenage employee that spent the rest of the day checking out my daughters from the ice cream stand he worked in, then I got pooped on by a bird.
Miss Lyss says that it happens to be good luck to get pooped on.
“Someone somewhere says that,” she says defending her lucky factoid.
I say that I’d buy that bird poop is lucky… from where she was sittin’! 😉
This from the woman that brought us the term “s*&t the bed” straight outta Connecticut.
For those scratching your head we have determined that when an inanimate object dies with zero hope for recovery it has “s*&t the bed”.
So the question remains:
Do you think the bird was like “Yo Bro! Dude, I just s*&t the Meg! That was righteous aim”?
We actually have taken a poll and can say with confidence that only items in Connecticut and surrounding areas “s*&t the bed” when they die… in Cali we call it time to recycle.
I tease but we’re loving Lyss and all the silliness that comes with our conversations and comparisons.
“Checking to make sure the tide hasn’t carried any of the flip flops out to…”
“Let me help you with this revelation. Were you going to say out to wave pool? Honey you do know that there is no flip flop snarfing tides by the wave pool,” he snickers.
I nodded, now seeing how ridiculous it sounded but it is a habit from days spent at the beach.
“You’ve been checking on everyone’s shoes all day huh.”
I nodded again, busted.
“I love you… weirdo.”
The shoes remained safe all day.
Do I add brave defender of footwear to the special skills column or does such vigilance fall under work experience on ye ol’ resume?
I peeked my eyes open and could see that dawn had still not arrived so I rolled over determined to get that last half hour of sleep in before the alarm sounds at 5:30 am.
Just as I got comfy and started to drift back off…
The cats started playing Bad Day, literally.
Min had left her keyboard in the living room after practicing the night before.
These little buggers turned it on, turned it up as high as it could go and hit a recording that Min has saved on her coveted instrument. Out blared a rather good cover of Daniel Powter’s song “Bad Day” full blast jolting me from bed and sending me scrambling through the house to turn it off. The cats were all hiding like I would just assume some ghost came by and thought he’d rock out his message from beyond.
No fun at 5 am.
No one else woke up.
Not a soul recalled hearing a thing.
Why are these special moments reserved for me?!
“So instead of asking for help you cut it?” I questioned our newest teenager.
“Hello… I said that I ripped it first but then maybe… alright but you say be resourceful so I rescued myself.”
High five independent sister but come on…
overcoming the evil forces of duct tape with Hello Kitties on it does qualify for some assistance.
These are the people that decide which retirement home we end up in.
“Huh?” was my intelligent reply… we were poolside I wasn’t exactly the sharpest while chilling in the sun.
“The net inside my suit!” he now yells loudly as though he was talking at mostly deaf great grandmother volume. “Its giving me a rash. Ugh! I’m chaffing!”
“If you would just look at me when you speak, most of the pool wouldn’t be able to sympathize with your issues at this current time,” I tell him amongst the chuckles of the other patrons.
He shrugs and announces that legislation needed be passed to prevent further aristocracies in the fashion industry. Crotch netting because keeping it classy poolside seems to continue to evade us.
There in the middle of the Magic Mountain parking lot next to the car, our newest nut to the freaky side show bent over and put the palms of her hands on the concrete while stealthily swinging her legs up above her body.
Girl did a perfect dang handstand and held it for several minutes while chatting it up with us and the family that meandered by looking for their vehicle just in time to catch the parking lot show.
“There,” she says standing back upright once again.”Better. Sometimes you just need to stand on your head to move it all around.”
Reason #7,294 I love this lady.
He accompanies her in the bathroom, he follows her through the house, they nap together, they do chores together and he loves to head butt her his Bengal cat kisses every chance he gets.
He’s a rather handsome kitty but Min might have to move and assume another name to get away from his intense love and affection. Her bedroom door is a temporary kitty restraining order but then he sings her the songs of his people from the cold unloved side of the door. Before long she relents and snuggles her furry little man.
He does tricks for her and hangs on her every word.
I’m sensing a little Twilight imprint thing going on here.
Being the cheapskates we are we had that date locked into the calendar for months. 🙂
The Handsome Prince and I left the house early in the morning leaving the above note for the rest of the tribe.
As we sat together outside the landfill waiting in a line of trucks filled with junk, it occurred to us that this was the first time in MONTHS we had been out… alone… together.
Ewww de composting landfill stank lingered about the air, the scent of the everything bagel lurking from a breakfast split on our lips but this wonderful moment of outside of the house alone, I was overcome with joy and came in for some onion poppy kisses.
We made record time unloading and were out of there quickly.
“So does this count as a date-ish event? If I knew the dump got me kissed, I’d have brought you here on our first date.”
Excuse me… I think you left some cheese in the car.
No. It does not count, my sneaker still smells like the rotting cabbage I tripped through but I can’t help that you make even playing with trash fun.
“I’m a poet. I could be a rap star. You know, from now on I’m going to be… Snoop Muskrat!”
The two oldest kids volunteered to come along to help me out.
I laid out my mission to them and we made a plan to get this done quick.
The girls grabbed their items and then proceeded to follow me up and down every single isle dancing behind me as though they were filming for the Ellen Show.
I hear laughter and turn to see my daughters twerking to some random song they now have going.
People are not only staring but now they are gathering.
I fled to check out quickly and pretended that I didn’t own them.
Later on K paid Luc $1.50 to twerk wearing a dread lock beanie while wearing eye make up.
Draco (the cat not the fictional character in case you were worried) got a string friendship bracelet stuck on his head. Except the bracelet went through his mouth like a bridle and behind his ears. As he realized he was in trouble he panicked and clawed desperately at the string, catching it just right to pull it irreversibly tighter. He started screaming and ripping at his face with his claws trying to free himself.
Luc comes bursting into the room The Handsome Prince, Lyss and myself we talking in, hysterically crying.
He blurted out, “K…Blood… blood everywhere… (wail)… help…”
I thought I was going to find K with a severed finger or compound fracture from the description.
What I found was K trying to rescue a wild bloody cat.
I grabbed onto the cat, Lyss held his face and The Prince cut away the less than friendly friendship token.
All his wounds were superficial and he has totally recovered from the ordeal.
However, we did learn that Luc will not be pursuing a career in the medical field or veterinary sciences. Panic is the boy’s middle name.
There might be some truth to the saying that curiosity killed the cat… this is the second time Draco has had an accident. First time he required seven stitches in his tail.
Really?! Animal ownership makes you less stressed?
When they got home they were totally terrorized, wired, buzzing with excitement and proceeded to marathon Disney movies for the rest of the night together.
Miss Lyss saw this as an incredible opportunity. She crept into the bathroom next to their room and scratched repeatedly on their door. She could hear them freaking out inside their room.
One of the girls would get brave, come to the door, look out and proceed to totally lose their gourd that there was no one there.
After several times and many girlie shrieks later, the jig was up.
Only my children would be sure that the house was suddenly possessed…
The demons got tired of my antics and moved out a LONG time ago.
He said something funny so I made the silliest faces at her and she started mimicking me.
W-e-l-l, his eye caught her display of ridiculous just as he was lighting some candles next to me.
He snorted and started laughing thus sending molten flaming wick cruising for it’s intended victim…me.
Getting lit on fire did not aid the calming process, my friends.
(I wasn’t injured beyond what some aloe can’t handle)
Note to self:
It is painful to mock your husband because karma is swift… but it was really dang funny in the moment.
I took Lyss through her first authentic ethnic specialty market in Cali.
All was well and she even stopped in an isle to ballroom dance with a three foot natural loofa sponge.
She was feeling the happy vibes of one of my favorite little places until our ride on the happy train came to a screeching halt in front of the butcher case.
There staring back at us was an entire sheep head with tongue comically lulled out to one side as though to agree with us that being stuck in this case is the pits.
“Is that? What! (insert a wide range of horrified faces here)Oh my!” she yelped and exited the area quickly.
-Truth: She totally did the cootie dance WHILE running towards the doors.
The experience tainted her cheap mango deal.
I’m considering retail therapy to fix this…
sheep skin boots? 😉
“I change my knickers and I twiddle my thumbs
I’m real nervous but it sure is fun
C’mon baby, you drive me crazy
Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”
“A Hhahahahahahahahaha! She said knickers and balls on fire! Knickers are funny!” Kenzie announced turning towards me and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Pssst! Ma! What are knickers?”
Underwear or shorts.
“Why would they write a song about chafing?”
Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:
http://BakingInATornado.com Baking In A Tornado
http://followmehome.shellybean.com Follow me home . . .
http://stacysewsandschools.wordpress.com/ Stacy Sews and Schools
http://thesadderbutwisergirl.com The Sadder But Wiser Girl
http://menopausalmother.blogspot.com/ Menopausal Mother
http://mooreorganizedmayhem.blogspot.com/ Moore Organized Mayhem
http://hypnoticbard.blogspot.com/ The Insomniac’s Dream
http://themomisodes.com/ The Momisodes
http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/ Spatulas on Parade
http://www.therowdybaker.com The Rowdy Baker
http://sorrykidblog.com/ Sorry kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others