Predicting the Future?

A few blogs ago, I mentioned I can almost predict the future. I can't, really, but on occasion some really weird things tend to happen to me.

For Example: While in the middle of a conversation with a co-worker I stood up and walked toward the wall where the phone was. I reached for the phone but didn't answer it. I just stood there with my hand on the handset waiting for the second ring. But it didn't. So, naturally, I returned to my co-worker having never stopped my yakking. He blinked once, then interrupted, asking "what the hell was that about?"

"The Phone was ringing" I replied. At that moment, the phone started to ring again. So, once again I went to answer it. The phone conversation was brief and when I hung up I realized my co-worker was eyeing me with interest. He told me it never rang. We argued about it for a minute then let it go.

A few days later the same co-worker came into the projection-room-turned-office to chat with me about programing what we call SmartPhrases. It's a part of the software we had been training. During our conversation I distinctly heard water; as in bursting from a pipe, or pouring from a tap. I mentioned what I had heard and we both paused to have another listen. Nothing.

We resumed our conversation and within minutes it happened. He knocked over a carafe of water which splashed across the desk top, and ran off into my purse on the floor where I had put it earlier.

He turned to me with a stunned look on his face and said one word only. "Witch."

So there you have it. I can almost predict the future.

Murray in the morning

My cat Murray has a way of pestering me first thing in the morning. He stands on me, touches my face, walks on my chest, meows in my ears, and even attempts to lay down on my head. He will insist that I get up out of bed and feed him, and will do anything he can to get the point across. He's relentless.

I love my fat cat, Murray.

One day I discovered this clip on YouTube.com and could hardly believe my eyes. It was Murray and me in the morning! Except, it's a cartoon created by a guy named Simon.

Here, have a look:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0ffwDYo00Q

How could this Simon guy have known?

Maybe I should keep the curtins closed.

Wanna knuckle sandwich?

Wanna knuckle sandwich?

That's the question posed to me by the Lollygagger one fine Sunday afternoon. Wanna knuckle sandwich, mommy?

After having teased her with that same statement for the past few years it just seemed natural she would parrot the remark. Who knew she would actually punch me in the mouth!

Wanna knuckle sandwich mommy? WHAM!

I'm tellin' ya, I saw stars. As each star popped before my eyes I wrestled with the notion that I should give her a tasty little sandwich of her own. But, being the grown-up, I refrained. Besides, she already has a loose tooth and I wouldn't want to be held responsible for knocking it out.

Lucky for her, daddy was there and witnessed the whole thing. He got her out of my reach so fast, her head snapped back from the G-Force of it. He ever so calmly explained how much that hurt poor mommy and that she is never, never to dole out knuckle sandwiches to anyone ever again.

She gave a sincere apology and wandered off.

Lollygaggers daddy on the other hand, had his back to me for the better part of an hour. I suspect he was refraining from bursting out laughing.

I live with brats; good thing I love them anyway.

A tough work life!

MY NEW JOB

So, I took the job and started last Monday. Here's how my week went:
Monday: Started at 10:00 a.m., met some new friends and saw some old friends.
Tuesday: Started at 9:00 a.m., went to a meeting, had lunch, went home.
Wednesday: Met my co-worker at 8:45 a.m., drove to Indio, Palm Desert, Palm Springs, and Riverside. Had lunch during a meeting that had nothing to do with our jobs. Went home by 3:00 p.m.
Thursday: Went to Wildomar and Temecula, sat in on a meeting, went home.
Friday: Had a call-in meeting from home that lasted 1 hour.

Whew, I'm tired!

So far, so good. I think I like my job.

Meno... pause

Last week I received a text message from my older sister. She wrote, "I've just been missing you a lot lately."

Rather than feeling as though I've been missed, I got a feeling that she was sad. Sometimes I can be rather intuitive and surprise myself, and other times I only think I'm rather intuitive and be more wrong than I could have been had I simply made things up to suit the moment. In fact, sometimes I can almost predict the future! Well, not really, but I have a great story I'll tell later.

Anyway, in this case, I was right. She was feeling the blues.

I was aware she's been suffering a case of peri-menopause for the past year, and not feeling too good about it, but didn't know she was feeling depressed about it. I hope it's not a sign of things to come because I'm just starting the whole "hot flash" thing, and it isn't pretty. In fact, it's enough to drive a woman to madness...

As with my poor sister, it's an off and on thing: I sit on the couch under a blanket that's tucked up under my chin. For good measure, I have on a sweater and a pair of thick socks to help combat the freezing temperatures in the house that, for some odd reason, I'm the only one who feels. Without warning, I'm instantly overcome with heat, which makes me break into a sweat on my chest and the back of my neck. But through the hot flash, my nose is cold.

In the middle of the night, I wake up feeling like I'll be sick from the overwhelming heat. I peel off whatever it is I'm wearing and lash out at my poor husband for having the nerve to touch me with a hand that is, without question, at least 90*. Then, just when I'm sure I'll spontaneously combust, I'm suddenly cold again and want to crawl into the microwave for an instant shot of heat. At that moment, I don't even care that I could blow up in the microwave.

...hmm, I guess it is a sign of things to come. See; crazy talk.

Here. This sums it all up:

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/29358/the_end_of_crazy_frog/


I'll send this to her to see if it correlates with what she's been going through.

What about you? Any correlation or are you lucky enough to be symptom free and too young to care?

Let us now "pause" for a moment of silence for the idiot frog in the microwave.

Our Morning Tradition

We have a tradition in our home that started roughly four years ago.


Each morning, when I leave for work, the Lollygagger and her daddy stand on the porch or in the garage and wait. They wait for me to reverse down the drive way and roll my window down.

Together, they shout out two things:


1) LOVE YOU!


and

2) Whatever random thought that comes to mind at that moment.

Sometimes, they shout things like "YOU'RE A PRETTY FLOWER" or "COME HOME WITH A MILLION BUCKS" or "DOGS ARE LIKE CUPCAKES"

Anything random. The more random, the more fun they seem to have with it.

I've enjoyed their crazy morning ritual since the day it started, and have come to expect it each morning. It just seems to start my day off right.

Last week, there was an unexpected break in the tradition. The Lollygagger was busy eating, dressing, getting her hair brushed, and trying to watch her favorite show, Imagination Movers, all at the same time.

I pulled away from the house and found myself missing their shout of LOVE YOU, and their random statement of affection (at least that's what I take it as).

My day was not the same. In fact, it was awful. It never improved until the afternoon when I called the Lollygagger's daddy on his cell phone. He had already picked her up from school, so I got to talk to her and told her that I missed her. We had a nice, but brief conversation about her school day.

When it was time to hang up the phone, she shouted and unsolicited LOVE YOU, which racked my eardrum and left me a happy momma with a ringing in my left ear.

Isn't it amazing how something so small can make such a huge difference in your day life?



LOVE YOU!!!

China, His Birthday Surprise!

It was his birthday on the 5th. It turned out to be a day like any other day, but we did what we could to make it as special as possible.

Just as I was scratching my head trying to think of what I could do to make it a better than average day, he called down the stairs to tell me there was a kitten on the balcony. So, naturally, I let it in... much to his chagrin. What could I do? We can't let the little kitten become coyote food. And believe me, she wouldn't stand a chance for survival around these parts.

Needless to say, the Lollygagger went nuts. She immediately claimed the little cat as hers and started to arrange her bed so the cat would have some room on it.

Whoa! Listen here Lollygagger, we need to find her mommy and give her back.

Right, momma. That'll happen.

We posted an ad on the local mountain web site and posted a sign in our local grocery store. So far, nothing. We've had a few people respond to the web site post, but they lost a different cat altogether. They responded with photos and all.

Truth be told, there's no way we could give back that little cat without breaking the Lollygaggers heart. Should the rightful owner want to claim her, I'll have to do the right thing and give her back, right?

Teaching a 5 year old important lessons in life shouldn't have to break her heart. Though we're doing the right thing, I'm secretly hoping the true owner never comes-a-calling. Inexplicably, I believe he feels the same way. He's let the little cat sit on him, which never happens with the other cats, and he let her walk on the counter top right under his nose, and he didn't do a thing about it.

I guess it did turn out to be a special day. Let's hope things stay on track and no one claims the little cat. I'd hate to see them both brokenhearted.

Between the two of them they decided to name her China. I think it's because the Lollygagger is from China and in her mind, all things adopted must come from China.

Oooooh, I hope I don't have to do the right thing.

How to build a Thanksgiving Turkey cookie

Today, the Lollygagger made some Turkey cookies which will be placed on each plate as a table
decoration tomorrow, her fourth Thanksgiving.

First, she peeled off the wrappers of several Reeses Peanut Butter Cups

See.

And, by some miracle, it made it all the way to the dinner table along with the rest of the little Turkeys.

And with all these yummy things sitting in front of her, that's a saying something.

She started off by gluing the Candy Corns on Oreo cookies with vanilla frosting, forming the tails.

But got caught up in her own creativity and decided to make a Candy Corn sandwich.

When she was finished, this is what they turned out to be.

She had such a fun time making these, I think it just became a Thanksgiving tradition.

Today, I am thankful for my Lollygagger and beginning a lifetime of traditions with her.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Dove vs- Dog

In my last post I explained how the Lollygagger applied enough make up to her face to canvas an entire population of clowns and their descendants for years to come.

In the process of washing her face with a dehydrated sliver of soap, which turned into a wrestling match, some of the Dove soap splintered and crumbled to the floor. By the end of the multiple face washings, I was sweaty and tired, so instructed the Lollygagger to please rescue the scraps of soap from the floor, and either replace it in the soap dish, or preferably, toss it in the trash.

As a person, I would have expected the soap pieces to have been thrown into the trash. As a mother of a hilarious 5 year old, who loves to invent new ways to amaze me, I should have known better. She made a sculpture of the remainder of the soap. However, some of the very tiny pieces remained on the floor.

The next morning, my dog came in to rest her head on my lap. Yes, she rests her head on my lap every time I go in for a pee. Sorry you had to hear that.

When she was exiting the bathroom, she must have smelled something nice, because she sniffed around until she could locate the source. She found it and began to lick up what I soon realized were the bits of Dove soap that were left behind from the previous days adventure.

I asked her what she found on the floor that was so tasty. She turned her head, still licking her lips as pink soap chips were falling from her flapping jowls. I tried to keep her from eating the rest, but she must have really liked it. I wasn't strong enough to pull her away and she was being quite stubborn about it. Before I knew it, she gobbled down every tiny piece of pink soap she could reach.

Later that morning, she had a tummy ache. I could tell, because she was pacing... back and forth... back and forth. When she was let out, she ran for the ditch and didn't emerge for at least 5 minutes. This routine repeated it self all afternoon. The part that makes me scratch my head is, she kept going back each time she returned from a bought of diarrhea to see if there were any soap pieces left.

What is it with dogs and their poor gastronomic choices?

Glad I 'm not a dog.

Hobo Kelly

While chatting on the phone with my mother, the Lollygagger helped herself to a couple of make up bags filled with old make up I don't intend to use, for various reasons. Lipsticks of the wrong color, blushes that are too light or too dark, foundations that clog my pours, etc.

Before I knew it, she was looking like Hobo Kelly! Remember her?

"I see Tommy, I see Betty, I see Robert..."

Week after week, that bitch clown managed to see every kid in California except me. Can't tell you how upsetting that was for me. I think she was making it all up. I don't really think she could see ANY ONE. Although, she was a magical clown. She could fly and everything. So, I guess I could be wrong.

So, there she was, looking every bit the clown as Sally Baker, the Hobo herself, and there was little I could do about it at the moment.

By the time my conversation with my mother was finished, the damage was done. We're talking lipstick so thick, it was creeping up into the nose.

She ran through the house in her efforts to prevent me from catching her and washing her face, but I won. I caught the little varmint and washed her face, twice. The make up in her nose remained though. Not too concerned with pink boogers.

Ya gotta love little girls and make up. They just go together so well.

The Wizard of Oz

When I was a young girl, we would gather around the television every Sunday night and watch what ever Disney show channel 7 happened to air. Sometimes, there was the occasional programming that trumped the Disney movie of the week.

I remember when we all gathered to watch the Wizard of Oz. I would sit on the floor, behind my daddy's legs, and peek at the television from between his knees. I was so scared out of my mind I closed my eyes through most of the movie.

Here, the Lollygagger eats a bowl of soup while watching the classic movie that frightened me so much when I was her age.

When the flying monkey first appears, she opened her mouth into a comical "O" and starred up at the television without blinking. I was sure she would insist I sit with her, or crawl onto the couch and hang on my arm.

She sits there, sipping her soup, her hair brushing the carpet behind her, content to be in her shorts during a cold snap...

She watched the entire movie, for the first time, and was stoic and brave the whole time.

Once again, she surprises me by being so contrary to everything I ever was as a child. ...and I am glad.

A very thirsty cat

A few weeks ago, I blogged about my disappointment in my deodorant falling apart on me. It was one of those solids that fall out of the container when it gets too near the end anyway.

Shortly after the crumbling of the deodorant, I switched to a dial up gel.

Do you remember my large barge of a cat, Murray? Well, Murray is a lover, who loves to bump his head into anything that he can rub against and call it affection. Although, if it smells good, he'll try to eat it and call it lunch. He loves to eat. Everything.

So, there I am in my bathroom getting ready for work. He comes in, hops onto the counter top and noses around, as usual. He discovers my new deodorant, which, of course, smells like flowers and fruit, and decides it smells good enough to eat. He knocked it over, rubbed his face on it, tried to chew the top off, and even clutched it in his paws and rolled around the counter top with it. So, I did what any good pet owner would do. I opened it for him!

The suction of the top being pulled off brought with it a healthy dose of gel. Wouldn't you know it, he licked off a blob of it, which sent him into a frenzied head-shaking, tongue-sagging, thirst. He leaped into the sink and attempted to wrestle a drop of water from the faucet, which was not forthcoming. When that failed, he b-lined to the toilet. The lid was shut, but that didn't deter him. He nosed up the lid and dove right in.

Now, I know any pet lover reading this is saying "I am not amused" right about now, but I'm tellin' ya. It was hilarious. After all, what animal is idiotic enough to eat something that is clearly wreaking of aluminum sulfate? I mean, flowers and fruit not withstanding, it smells like chemicals. Don't animals have a keen sense of smell? Only my dog, who makes poor digestive choices, would be so dumb. I guess they are kindred spirits somehow.

So, there you have it. Cats and Dogs really are related.

Tea with Lau Lau

Today, my Lollygagger had a real tea party with her Lau Lau. Lau Lau is her grandmother, who loves the Lollygagger in 4 hour blocks of time. Can't blame her, really. The Lollygagger is only capable of behaving in 3 hour blocks of time. When she hits the wall, she's a different person all together.

Let's take today as an example. From 11:00 a.m. through 2:00 p.m., the Lollygagger was a happy, polite young lady who poked her pudgy pinkie finger out to the side while sipping her tea. By 2:05, she was tired. You know what happens to 5 year olds when they're tired, right? They turn into little psychopaths who must run, or talk, talk, talk, and talk some more until you're forced to say "PLEASE, stop talking!" and generally get on everyones nerves.

All the same, she was on her best behavior today, and I'm a proud Momma.

I love these little moments in life that will be remembered in years to come.

Be grateful and thankful for each moment.

Our Choices in life

Just over a week ago I was contacted by a friend who asked if I was enjoying my job. Truth be told, I have been enjoying it very much. But, call it being intrigued or just nosey, I had to ask "why, you have something better?" His answer was yes.

It took him about 10 minutes to fill me in on the details of his job. Wow, it sounded pretty good. His office is his living room, kitchen, or bed, and he sets his own hours during the week. He trains one-on-one for about four hours a day, on the days he wants to train. Sounds good, doesn't it? There's much more to it, but those items were the highlights of the job.

I say, if it sounds too good to be true, it's because it's not true. So, I spend the next 10 minutes trying to get him to fess up. What's the down side of this job? I quizzed him endlessly, trying to figure it out. Nothing. So, I take a different tack, and come up with my own version of what must be wrong with the job. Nope, he's not budging. There must be a good reason he's flaunting his spectacular job in my face, so I took the bate and asked him why he's being such a putz and teasing me about not having a job like his.

Turns out, there's another one just like his opening in the next day or two, and he wants me to be his co-trainer, and apply for it. It would be a promotion with an increase in pay. So, I figure, "what the hell, applying can't hurt anything" and forwarded my resume to him. He sent it to his manager, who sent it to the hiring manager, who called me for an interview, all within just a few days.

I went to the interview on a Thursday, heard from my friend on Friday that it went well, and will be hearing from his manager on Monday. He told me to have my letter of resignation typed and ready to go so I can hand it in on Tuesday.

So, here I am, at one of many crossroads in my life, wondering if this is the right thing to do. I already have a good thing going and happen to really enjoy myself. So, change? Why?

I suppose the time I spend in my office (living room, kitchen, or bed) could be traded for a few hours in my Lollygaggers Kindergarten classroom as a teachers helper. Or, maybe I could have more time to get to the dentist... yuck. Or, perhaps, I could clean my house once or twice. Hmm, what to do, what to do.

I think I'll take it. After all, what's the worst that can happen? I get fired during one of the worst economically defunct periods in America's history?

...wow, that is something to think about.

Why is change so frightening?

Halloween for the Lollygagger

The Lollygagger was so excited to go into the Village to Trick-or-Treat, she dressed hours before it was time to go, and lured her daddy outside to test out her cool wand. "ABRA-CADABRA"

*poof*

She turned daddy into a frog.

After a successful Wand test, the Lollygagger danced her way down the street.

Finally, the time arrived to travel to the Village. She filled her bucket with every objectionable sweet and confection offered by the local merchants. This must truly be a Dentists dream.

Here she is asking me if she got enough. I immediately say Yes, but her daddy told her the lower level by the lake has candy too. Great. He just had to do it.

He must be feeling grateful for being turned back into daddy.

Oh well, she's having fun.

At the lower level we went to the Lollypop Park, which is a cute little Fun Park that has a shack with a few mirrors and other things that make a good photo op.

She loves being tall.

...and loves being silly.

She had a wonderful time, collected more candy than she will be allowed to eat, and wore herself out to the point of exhaustion.

Good night, sweet pea. Sleep tight.

Our dog, Maura

This past weekend we went for a walk to our little lake at the end of our street.  As usual, we took our dog, Maura, who loves to pee on every tree, bush, rock, and stick she can find; which are many.

Isn't she a beauty? 

Here's a trivia factoid for you:

Helen Keller was among the first to posess a fully qualified service dog, who performed many tasks on her behalf.  Her dog was an Akita.  The Akita is the most protective and loyal of the Japanise breeds and is among the most loyal and protective of all breeds.  Nearly extinct during WWII due to the starvation of the Japanise people who resorted to eating the animals to survive.

There, you may now consider yourself a smarter person.

Anyway, as we were walking through the parking lot at the edge of the lake, there were two Great Danes in the baseball field on our left, playing and growling as they stood on their hind legs, appearing to be having a boxing match. 

Our dog, Maura, is well behaved and trained to remain at my left side at all times unless otherwise told to play.

So, there she was on my left, closest to the two playful giants, while the Lollygagger was on my right. Apparently, Maura began to feel nervous about the two giants and the fur on her back rose up between her shoulders.  The next thing I knew, she was walking ahead of me and forcing the Lollygagger to her right.

She kept sight of the Lollygagger from the corner of her eye, pushing and sheparding her until we were on the distal side of the parking lot, all the while keeping an eye on the two giants on her left.

This was the first time Maura had shown an ounce of caring for the Lollygagger.  She usually can't be bothered with her and more often than not, walks the other way whenever the Lollygagger gets within three feet of her.

For the rest of our lakeside walk we found Maura closer than ever to the Lollygagger.  She was never more than ten feet away from her, which is odd considering she likes and expects her space.  Normally, the further away the Lollygagger is from her, the happier she is.

So, what happened?  Do dogs suddenly become protective and posessive when other dogs are boxing?  Why would she see fit to keep a close eye on her when the danger had passed?  Could it be possible, that after nearly four years of putting up with the Lollygagger she might actually like her?

Will Maura change her mind and go back to ignoring the Lollygagger when the lakeside walk is over?  Will she ever show this level of concern for the Lollygagger again?  We'll have to wait and see.

No matter what happens later, I have a new respect now for this beautiful dog who, at least once, loved the Lollygagger.

That'll do doggy, that'll do.

Fish for Dinner

We have learned many things over the past four years thanks to the Lollygagger. We've learned that you can't give an open-ended question without getting an hour long dissertation from her, none of which ever has a point. We've learned to offer choices rather than suggestions. For example, we now know to never ask what she would like to eat for dinner. We get "Macaroni and Cheese" every time. Instead, we will ask which item she would like for dinner, "Rice or Potato" or perhaps, "Chicken or Pork."

Last night, the Lollygagger and her daddy were winding their way home, curve by harrowing curve up the mountain. During the trying trek, the Lollygagger's daddy forgot himself and did the unthinkable. He asked what she would like with her fish, forgetting to offer choices.

Her response was immediate and clear:

"FLAVOR, please."

See what he gets for not giving options!  Some daddy's never learn.

Goin' potty

"Momma, I gotta go potty."

"Alright, what are you waiting for, go potty"

"Come with me."

"No, you don't need company in the bathroom."

"Come with me Momma, it's boring to go potty by myself."

"Just GO."

"Okay, you don't need to yell."

"... aaw, you came to keep me company - MOMMA! what are you doing with the camera?!"

"You can't take pictures of me going potty. Silly Momma. Put the camera down. - Momma, put the camera down, please. Momma, I can't go potty if you're taking pictures of me."

"Momma, you can go now... MOMMA."

"MOMMA, GET OUT AND SHUT THE DOOR BEHIND YOU!"

"Okay, you don't need to yell."

Dressy Betsy

Do you remember the Dressy Betsy doll? She was the little doll with ribbons in the pig tails so you could learn how to tie a bow. She had snaps, buttons, zippers, and peek-a-boo kitties in the pockets.

Today, the Lollygagger was sent upstairs to put quarters in her piggy bank. When she came down stairs, much, much later than she should have, she was dressed in this.

Her daddy and I were surprised to see she had dressed herself completely, undies and all, in an outfit that was well matched. She pranced around, doing a sort of 1970's John Travolta, finger-pointing-disco dance in celebration of her achievement. Then, momma had to spoil it by wanting to take a picture.

Miss frown face was asked how she managed to get the outfit down from the top rung of her closet. "I jumped, of course."

...When did she get to be such a smart mouth?

The temptation was too great. I had to tell her.

"Ah, sweetness. Your skirt is backward."

She burst out with laughter. Just when I think she'll be mad at me for telling her about her skirt, she goes and surprises me with a hearty belly laugh. I love that about her. Full of surprises.

"Go ahead momma, take a picture of THAT!"

Though I wasn't quit sure if she meant the backward skirt or not, I went ahead and took the picture.

I must admit, she's subtle.

Sleepin' with a Fish

Something new has developed at our house. Something, weired. Something, something...

Something so strange, I can barely bring myself to say it.

She fell in love with a fish, and I didn't get the memo.

The Lollygagger is a book fiend and can't seem to get along without her books. She goes to bed with a book every night. She craves a book of any type. Cardboard, paper, big or small, it doesn't matter. Books are her comfort. If she can't fall asleep with a book in her arms, she won't be able to shut her tiny eyes for hours.
Yes, that's a bit odd, but what really makes the whole book thing an oddity is, she can't read yet. She tries, but geez, she's only five.

So, last night I went into her room to check on her, as I do every night before I go to bed. It's routine for me to pull a book out from under her head, or peel it out of her hands as she applies the grip of death.

This night, however, I found this:

What is this, I ask. How did this happen?

I've tried for nearly four years to get her to enjoy the plethora of stuffed animals I've invested hundreds of dollars in, with no luck. She's been so adamant about sleeping with her books, I gave up on the whole stuffed animal thing altogether and haven't purchased one in ages.

Now, I find this.

I feel confused. Out of sorts. And, somehow uninformed.

Does her daddy know about this? Is he keeping this life changing, earth shattering event from me? He claims ignorance to the whole matter, but I just don't know. I say he's in on the whole thing.

Will this be a singular event, or the new norm?


Only time will tell.

Cookies and Crackers

One night, during my childhood, my young sister snuck out of bed to have herself a midnight snack of Oreo Cookie filling. No, not the cookie, just filling.

She creeped into the dining room, quietly pulled off the chrome plated lid of the glass jar where the cookies resided, and carefully twisted apart the chocolate cookie. She ate the yummy middle by licking it until it was clean. When she was through with the entire jar, she put the two halves back together and replaced each cookie.

The following day, my poor dad had a snack attack and sought out the comfort of the Oreo cookies. She watched as he took his first bite of his chocolate dreamwich and discovered his worst nightmare had come true. No filling.  Not a scrap.

There was no need to search for the culprit. Everyone knew who the guilty party was. Our resident cookie monster.

Today, I had the pleasure of having a 20 minute phone conversation with my Lollygagger. During our conversation, she told me she was eating a bunch of crackers. These crackers must have been exceptional, because she kept telling me how good they were and was giving me a full description of their flaky texture, the light salty taste, and the spectacular creamy cheese in the middle.

I was intrigued. How could I not be, with the detailed description she gave me. I asked her if she would save me one so I could taste it too.

Upon my arrival, she immediately handed me a bowl filled with her crackers. I was so honored, so impressed that she saved so many for me. Overwhelmed by her generosity, I gushed over her giving her hugs and thanks for being so thoughtful.

When I opened the bowl, I grabbed myself what I thought would be a satisfying salty snack. What I bit into was a sandwich cracker with the cheese licked off.

I love how history repeats itself.

The Pumpkin Patch Pig

Today, the Lollygagger went on a field trip to a Pumpkin Patch with her Kindergarten class.

Her daddy went along as a classroom aid and was given the assignment of photographer.

He did a great job snapping the candids and the poses of the Lollygagger.

The Pumpkin Patch is also home to Bees, which the Beekeepers love for their sweet honey.

The kids were given a little taste of the sweet bee barf. I'll bet if she knew what she was putting in her mouth, she would be repulsed. Bee barf.

She waltzed through the Pumpkin Patch without a care.

She got to visit with one of her favorite animals of all time;

Mr. Ed, the blue eyed horse, of course.

She was allowed to pet a duckling.

"Aaaaah, he's so soft."

"Hey, you should pet this little guy, he doesn't run!"

Last year, the Lollygagger was run over in a stampede of goats when we took her to a different Pumpkin Patch. You;ll notice, she's no where near the goats.

She tried her hand at towing an over sized squash.

That didn't go very well, so she decided she should go back to the animals.

While petting a Llama, she heard the "oink-oink" of a large sow in the stall next door. Well, you know the curiosity of a little girl must, MUST be quenched. Needless to say, she shoved her way through the crowd of classmates to see what was making all the noise.

As she reached out to touch the swine, it flew out of her mouth before he could stop her. She said it. In front of God, her classmates, her teachers AND the pig. "Look daddy, this pig is as big as MOMMA!"

Well, don't that beat all? I worked all summer on it and I've nearly lost 10 pounds. So what's with the remark? The things kids say. It's amazing they make it to adulthood.

Lucky for her I can see the humor in it.