Thursday, December 22, 2005

Feet of the World

I was driving my offspring to school yesterday, singing along with the incessant Christmas music on the radio, when that wonderful, uplifting Christmas classic, "Feed the World...Do They Know It's Christmas" came on. Nothing like a pleasant little ditty about starving kids in Africa to make the holidays complete.

So I'm singing along, and suddenly, from behind me, I hear the angelic voice of FrogBoy. Very loud, but very sweet. And he's singing about "Feet of the World." Perfect.

It got me to thinking about how we often totally screw up song lyrics. And we're convinced that we have the right words, so we belt them out loud and strong. There are websites devoted to the phenomenon.

This immediately led me down another path. My brother, the professor, has a nice little trick he pulls out whenever he's singing and doesn't know the words: He starts up a conversation. Just out of nowhere. He'll be singing, "If you're happy and you know it" and suddenly, "So! How 'bout those Mavericks?" It's great.

Spanky does something similar: he sings loud and proud on the parts he knows, and when he gets to parts he doesn't know, he just starts mumbling. Then he smiles. He knows he's still cute so he can get away with this. The Professor doesn't even try this one.

So all this is going through my head yesterday and The Professor calls me. He has a list of Christmas songs to share. I will include it here because (1) it is funny and (2) I have made fun of him and it's 2 days before Christmas.

Psychiatrist's Christmas Carols
Narcissistic - Hark! The Herald Angels Sing...about Me
Manic - Decks the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Street and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and...
Paranoid - Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells...
ADHD -- Hark the herald angels sing ba-rum-pa-pum-pum in the little town of Bethlehem up on the housetop in a winter wonderland one foggy Christmas Eve hey how bout them Bears no I don't want to switch to Sprint but thank you for shopping at K-Mart.

Okay, that's really funny, but not very nice. Point being, I can say this, because 2 of these live in my house (bonus points if you guess which ones!) and I'm related to all the others.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Up on the Rooftop

Yesterday we had a visit from one of my most favorite people in the world: Tim, the pest control guy. While it may sound odd to enjoy the company of your exterminator, if you understand and appreciate my complete dislike of pests (of any and every kind), this will make perfect sense.

I've been telling SuperHubby that I'm hearing things in the attic, which I have jokingly begun calling the rattic, but since he's mostly deaf, I end up trying to mimic the sounds (much to his amusement). And, of course, I have no proof there' s anything up there. So I asked my buddy Tim to check things out.

The news was not good. In fact, it was horrible. Apparently, we have a rat. Gross. But Tim, in his very sweet manner, told me the good news is that it's a roof rat. Wow, that makes me feel much better. He assured me that the rat didn't want to come be with me, that they were called roof rats because they like the attic and the trees. I assured Tim the rat and I were of like minds; I don't really want him to come be with me either. He also tried to make me feel better by telling me it looked like there was only one. It didn't work.

I had to leave the house for an extended period of time last night. I told SuperHubby I wanted to move. I am so creeped out it isn't even funny.

Then today I did the dumbest thing ever. I looked up "roof rat" on the internet. Don't know what I thought I'd see...maybe a picture of Mickey waving and smiling? Well, let me just share, that's not what I had staring back at me. Now my problem is compounded by actually knowing what's up there.

Tim swears the stupid thing can't get downstairs and visit. I just hope it doesn't get confused and decide to take up residency in the Christmas tree.

Friday, December 09, 2005

What a Ride

I'm a pretty groovy chick. I listen to a good mix of 80s tunes and classic rock. I have excellent hair. I own fabulous purses and am extremely organized (thanks, in part, to my many, many daytimers). I actually use the word "groovy" frequently, and not just in describing myself. I am terribly humble.

And yet I drive an extremely un-groovy van. A lot of people would think driving a mini-van immediately pushes you into the un-groovy realm, but that isn't the case. A Chrysler Town and Country is a very cool ride. A giant golden suppository, not so much.

This past weekend, our family took a little road trip. We met a friend of mine in Columbia. She lives in Greenville so it was halfway for both of us and we got to spend the day together. Our husbands were both very good boys and came along for the ride, even though I'm sure they both would have much preferred watching football or going to a hockey game or cleaning the garage. Not only did they not complain, they actually acted like they enjoyed themselves, which was a wonderful perk.

Since we have 2 terrible, awful, beat up, run down cars, we decide to rent something reliable for the day. I was going to go for a mid-size but my friend Doodles pointed out I could rent a Jeep Cherokee for only $10 more. Sold!

The dumb people didn't have a Cherokee, but they did have a Toyota Highlander. Now I have issues with Toyotas, simply because they are the ones that thought the suppository was a good design, but we went with it. And this was a SWEET little SUV.

I'm sure part of it was that we don't have to put gas in it 2-3 times a week. And part of it was that we don't have to make a car or insurance payment on it. Factor in that it was exceptionally clean (I guess that happens with some people, not so much with us) and I was in love! Plus, the radio worked (it actually worked very well, but working period is a bonus for us) and the ride was only bumpy when you went over bumps (another novel idea). This is what I call a luxury car.

The suppository didn't speak to me for a couple of days. She was ticked. I don't blame her. I betrayed her and then bragged about it.

On the way to school this week, I spotted my Jeep Cherokee. I pointed it out the boys. Told them it was my dream car, didn't they love it, etc. And Spanky informed me that he thought it was ugly. UGLY. I was shocked. Appalled. Bowled over --- when he informed me he much preferred the suppository, since it has more room.

Whatever. I do love the suppository. She gets me where I'm going. But she doesn't fit my hip image. We've gotta work on that.
The 12 Irritants of Christmas

Contraray to popular opinion, based mostly on a previous blog about Christmas beginning in early October, I am not a scrooge. I love Christmas. I love the decorations, I love the music, I love the sentiment, I love just about everything about this time of year. Just about.

There are a few things that drive me completely insane. Twelve actually. How convenient.
  1. Decorated automobiles. Why are people putting wreaths and ribbons and bows and fake snow on their cars? I don't understand this. Decorate your house; drive your car.
  2. Bad outdoor lights. If you're going to decorate the trees in your yard, do a good job. Otherwise, don't do it at all. These people that decorate only the bottom half of the tree don't realize that that's just a lighted version of whitewashing your trees. Very redneck.
  3. Poor lawn decor. Closely related to #2 above. You should not have a manger scene complete with Santa and the Grinch. You should not have plastic glowing candy canes sprinkled randomly around the walkways. You most definitely should not have anything homemade in your yard.
  4. Crowds. I don't like crowds the other 11 months of the year, but come Christmas, I can't hardly leave my house. I have to stock up on toilet paper around mid-September just so I don't have to stand in line for 30 minutes to buy a roll when we're desperate and have no other choice. This after being mauled by the crazies "just in the holiday spirit."
  5. Finding a Christmas tree. First, let me ask, why are we cutting down a living tree and setting it up inside our house, only to have to make sure it doesn't die for a month, and then throwing it on the curb to be hauled away like it doesn't deserve to live? My dogs are totally confused about this tree in the house. Why can't they pee on it? It's fine when they're outside. Could we not find a better alternative? This year I proposed clearing a wall, painting on a tree, and letting the boys go nuts with paints to decorate it. After Christmas, I get a new paint job. SuperHubby was less than appreciative of this ingenious idea. We have a real tree.
  6. Toilet paper gifts. A note comes home from school the other day asking that we send in empty toilet paper rolls. "We have some exciting crafts for the children, they will be making gifts for the parents, we need as many rolls as possible." Do I really want a gift made out of a used toilet paper roll? I guess it's better than used toilet paper. But I have a thought: why not let me send in $10 and you have a nice little store with nice little gifts that my child could buy me something. Preferrably something that didn't formerly take up residency in the bathroom.
  7. Food. I love some holiday food. But I draw the line at anything that includes candied fruit. And a lot of holiday food has candied fruit hidden inside. It looks good, you take a nibble, you think you're home free, you take a bite, and suddenly you have a mouthful of candied pineapple. And the person who made it is standing right there. Crud.
  8. Christmas colors. What's up with the red and green? These don't match. I'm thinking of a pink and black Christmas, baby!
  9. Location, location, location. It's not so convenient to have Christmas in December. First, it's cold, and I don't like cold weather. I think we should work on this. Second, daytimers end in December (unless you have a 16-month calendar, but that's another story). So you have tons of notes and appointments to write down, but no room, because you've already used your calendar for 11 months and you're barely holding on until the new one can be used.
  10. Mean, bratty kids. A nasty little girl in FrogBoy's class told him there was no such thing as Santa Claus. We told her she was ugly.
  11. Media issues. It's not so wonderful to have holiday specials on all the time. Sometimes you just want to watch Law & Order and see someone get murdered. And the 24/7 Christmas music on the radio is really stale by now. AND just because the technology is available, that doesn't mean Cyndi Lauper and Frank Sinatra should EVER sing together.
  12. Middle-of-the-mall vendors. These people annoy me. There's not enough room to walk anyway because of all the people in the mall, but some rocket scientist felt compelled to add more vendors by setting up keosks in the middle of the street. So you have to walk around. But you can't walk around, because there's too many people. Which is just what they want. Then they corner you. I actually had a woman ask me the other day if my hair was naturally curly. Being stupid, I answered her. When I said yes, she tried to sell me a hair straightener. Does that mean my hair looks awful and I need help? That's a bad sales gimmick, no matter how you slice it.

BONUS IRRITANT: Free gift with purchase. Ever notice how the free gift with purchase is really good, but not great, but something you'd like to maybe have? But they don't sell it on it's own, you can only get it free with purchase. But you have to spend some crazy amount on an item that (1) you really don't want and (2) really isn't worth what you're paying -- but you do it because you want the FREE gift.

I'm not anti-Christmas, really. I could go for some changes to the routine though. I don't think everything on the planet should close down (what if I need to buy something?). It is all about me, after all.