“I forgot to tell you,” my husband says, “When I was in my office today, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and there was a spider on my shoulder.”
My eyes widen in horror.
“It was just a little one.”
My eyes relax a smidge.
“My first thought was to brush it off, but then I remembered this is October. I’ll just walk around and introduce it to people as my pet.”
“But then I forgot.”
Me: “You forgot?”
“Yeah. I must’ve gotten distracted. I forgot all about it.”
“So what happened to the spider?!” Read the rest of this entry
I like to share our toddler’s accomplishments with my husband when he gets home from work. Sometimes I do so with audience participation.
Me: Hey, Joe-Joe, who went poop on the potty today?
Me: That’s right! And then who peed on the rug and Momma’s foot?
Apparently we need to rehearse before putting on the show for Daddy.
She’ll turn it into a holder for her princess dolls.
Rather inventive, no?
A friend shared this story about her five-year-old daughter:
Daughter: “Mommy, tell me a secret.”
Mom (whispering): “I think you are sweet and funny.”
Daughter: “Now, I’ll tell you one… (whispering) Read the rest of this entry
When he spills water on my pants, it looks like this.
Heart-shaped water spot. It got fatter and wider while I called for someone to grab the camera. It was actually more distinct earlier on, but you get the idea.
The other day I heard him calling me from across the house, “Betttssyyyy…. Betttsssyyy….”
Yeah, and as if that weren’t bad enough, more recently, he opened the screen door from the outside, leaned in and yelled, Read the rest of this entry
A friend came across these notes she’d written about her daughter and kindly and boldly sent me photos. She even allowed me to share them with you. Enjoy! Read the rest of this entry
My friend and her husband, having met at University of Virginia, where he played basketball, were overjoyed when VA won March Madness some weeks ago.
At the time, I sent her a congratulatory text. She wrote back that she was impressed I knew. It’s true I know and care little for professional sports, but my husband sometimes keeps me informed.
I texted back: “I care about stuff you care about. I mean, not your kids or your husband or your dog, but basketball I can get behind.”
Here I figured she must be wetting herself from my masterful command of humor, and yet, a second later, she wrote back: Read the rest of this entry
My thirteen-year-old daughter and I were invited by her friend and her friend’s mom to one of those places where you paint or sculpt. We had a great time, and both came home with a painting we were fairly proud of. Until I saw mine next to my daughter’s and realized I’m no better an artist than my 8th grader. Not that I should be, but shouldn’t I be? I might even be worse.
Here are our paintings. Can you guess whose is whose? Read the rest of this entry