Skip to main content

Number 2

Jerod's looking for the magical crack dealer our kids have hiding in the couch cushions -- a pipe pedaling leprechaun with stains on his teeth and rancid fingernails.

The youngsters are restless tonight.

Lily faked throwing up to avoid doing homework, and -- forgetting how close to death she was -- did a gymnastics routine on the kitchen counter. Ashlyn punched her in the stomach and laughed as I chased her all over the house demanding she go in time out -- "Go sit on the stairs. NOW."

Jerod's voice is booming through the walls and floorboards, "Stop ... get down from there ... what the heck ... stupid dogs ... you're supposed to be sick ... Ashlyn Dever ... No ... that's it ... Ashlyn, go sit on the stairs."

It's the kind of night when mothers and fathers look at one another with sad, defeated eyes and ask, "Why did we do this to ourselves?"

The blanket that covers the hole in back of the couch is blessed with Ashlyn's art work as are the walls and the dogs and the carpet. Lily is practicing cartwheels off the banister.

I'm shut in the bathroom pretending to poop. It's the perfect excuse when your children are making you contemplate horrible things. No one wants to verify that you are in fact doing it, so they take your word for it, and you're safe from the monsters as long as you're sitting on the toilet.

"Lex, can you change Ashlyn's diaper?"

"Can't, I'm pooping."

"Lex, Bud (our cat) just puked on the floor. Can you clean it up?

"Can't, I'm pooping."




Post a Comment

I showed you mine -- it's your turn now.

Popular posts from this blog

The insecure writer's support group

The ground is important -- for several reasons.

Among them

Gravity makes no sense without it -- there's no mandate that science be logical so long as our scientists are the smartest smartypants on the planet, in which case "because I said so" is an acceptable explanation. The ground is important, because it's something to build on -- a starting point, a foundation.

I respect the ground, because it has on occasion fallen out from under me, and it's rather unsettling to watch your life in free-fall mode -- to see your accomplishments disintegrate in an instant or a decade in some cases. It all depends on how fast you're falling.

Most of us drop in slow motion. We'll catch a ledge or an up draft every once in a while and think "this is it!" But then we go on falling. Or do we? Is the "bottom" just a figment of our imaginations? Can we lay new ground wherever we choose?

Ask Alice

None of my friends growing up were impressed with Disney's…

Writers get laid

Writers get laid -- or they would if they tried -- because people -- especially women -- are impressed by the phrase, "I'm a writer." It's romantic.

Introducing yourself as a writer insinuates substance and depth of character; people like that. They don't know why, except that one-dimensional characters on T.V. sitcoms and big-screen romantic comedies prattle on and on about the whole package -- a good looking, funny, intelligent single with rock-solid values and money.

People admire the skill and dedication it takes to be a novelist or a journalist or a screen writer  -- "I always wanted to be a writer," they tell you with stars in their eyes.

Whether they know it's a myth or not they imagine us in rich, thrilling lives with sports cars and beach houses and Louboutin shoes like Carrie Bradshaw. So the woman at the grocery store doesn't feel bad when she puts back the US Weekly she read cover to cover before she checks out.

Or downloading unauth…

The mirror

Ashlyn discovered the funny mirror at the park today. I could tell you all a long, silly story about our adventure -- the chasing after crows, the falling (me not Ashlyn), the rc plane crash, the dog poop and the climb to the tippy-top-top of the play structure -- but the pictures in this case are funnier.