How can I argue with that?

“Mommy, why do we have belly buttons?”

“That’s where the umbilical cord was when you were in my belly.”

“You mean someone sewed it on me?”

“No. That’s where it grew when you were growing inside of me. That’s how you got food and oxygen.”

“Why don’t some people have a belly button?”

“Everyone has a belly button.”

“Kyle XY doesn’t have one.”

“Okay, fine… everyone except Kyle XY.”

Ask a silly question…

Yesterday when I logged into Facebook, I noticed that three different people sent me flair that had to do with being clumsy. I wondered ‘out loud on my facebook status’ why that would happen. What would compel three separate people to send me such things?

Not all of the people who sent it to me saw me on Saturday when I tripped UP the two steps into my own dining room. And, not everyone who sent me clumsy-related flair saw me dribble my iced tea down my shirt just a few moments later.

I was a little bit offended.

Hmpf.

 

Then this morning when I took the dog for a walk – this happened:

I, um, slipped down a little slope in the yard and landed in mud.

You should see my pants. *sigh*

Isn’t orange clay grand?

To be fair… it was RAINING outside. I was holding the leash of a dog who wanted to get the hell in the house and in the other hand I had a big umbrella. The super-strong dog dragged me towards the path, I lost my balance, and landed on the one small patch of yard that doesn’t have grass on it.

So what if the dog weighs thirteen pounds and I, um, don’t.

Okay, so maybe my friends know me a little too well.

Maybe a good therapist.

I have this memory of being at a house that belonged to some friend or maybe distant relative of my parents. My sister was there, but I don’t really remember what we did together that night. All I remember is that I was supposed to be falling asleep on the couch while the grown-ups watched a movie…. And to not look at the TV.

I couldn’t sleep. How could I sleep with the TV on while at another person’s house. Especially after being told NOT to look at the TV. Yeah right.

So I looked.

I didn’t know what they were watching at the time, but man, oh man, it scared the shit out of me right then. I was maybe six or seven or something. It was some weird Dracula movie. It might have been the one with Frank Langela… I’m not sure.

Anyway… this woman is in a white nightgown and he’s coming towards her and she’s all zombie-looking and he’s all Dracula-looking and there was blood and now I’m scarred for life.

For years after that moment… and I mean YEARS , people, I would sleep with the covers drawn tight around my body… especially my neck… not one little centimeter of skin would show (except my head). Because obviously a vampire couldn’t bite my neck if my blankets were tight around me.  It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold. I would NOT let that blanket slip off of me. 

I’m sure that when the many, many vampires came by my bed with nefarious thoughts, they saw my blanket and were all like, whoa, what’s this? A blanket? Oh crap. She’s way too protected for my super-human strength and sharp as knives fangs. Drats, my plan is foiled! Next victim please.

(Nevermind that my sister was sleeping next to me in our trundle bed completely void of these vampire thoughts. But she sat through Jaws 2 as a child and didn’t flinch once… because she’s weird that way. Me? I was literally under. the. seat. of the movie theater. Seriously.)

Like I said… this went on for YEARS. I can’t remember when it stopped but I think I was probably a teenager when I finally realized that if a vampire really did want to suck my blood, a blanket wasn’t the best defense… unless it was covered in garlic. And crosses. And, you know, if vampires were real. 

This sort of thinking is the same reason why I never eat green Lifesavers.  I choked on a green one when I was four… Heimlich Maneuver and everything. Out popped a green Lifesaver and they have never crossed these lips again. Red? Yes. Orange? Yes. White? Sure. Green? No way, Jose.

Back to vampires…

So – would it be considered ironic that since November, I have been reading books about vampires non-stop? I’ve read all the Twilight books (some more than once), the Sookie Stackhouse books, and am now almost finished with the Anita Blake series. This is more than 20 books all about vampires. Since November. It’s a sickness, I tell you.

I don’t feel the need to sleep with the covers tucked all around my body. That’s gotta be a good sign.

There aren’t any books about green Lifesaver candies, are there?

“Stop it. It’s not funny. Seriously.”

My boy was playing Sinatra, an elder penguin, in his drama club’s performance of “I’ve Got the Music in Me!” (the elementary school version of “Happy Feet”) He was in both casts, which meant we got to see it twice!

Isn’t he the cutest penguin ever?!

Skylar is the one on the far right wearing the fedora. (what do you mean you can’t see him?)

During the show, the group of penguins sang Sing, Sing a Song… which I LOVE. Didn’t they used to sing that on Sesame Street or something? For some reason, that’s where I think I first heard it. It just makes me happy. And it makes me want to sing.

So naturally, when the penguins started singing, so did I.

That’s when my sweet girl said:

“Mommy, stop singing.”

“Why? I like singing… sing out loud, sing out strong!“

“No one else is singing.”

“Yes there are… look back there… don’t worry if it’s not good enough…”

“You’re embarassing me.”

“…just sing, sing a song…“

“Seriously Mommy. Stop it. It’s not funny. SERIOUSLY.”

“… na na na-na na… na na na-na na na…“

Silence.

(she still wasn’t over it during intermission)