Archive for December 20, 2011

I Ain’t Had a Chance to Celebrate Kim Jong Il’s Demise…

So maybe y’all can join my dance party:

Well, at least we know where he be now!

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Nostalgia and Other Wastes of Time

This song was popular in my high school days. By the time I was a senior, I had a fiance in the army, a boyfriend at Cornell who assumed we were gonna get married when he graduated, the man that I was really head over heels in love with who didn’t care about me at all, and another man who was head over heels about me that I didn’t care about at all!

When my kids were in high school, I just couldn’t understand them. “Why do you only date one person at a time? How are you gonna figure out what sort of person is right for you if you only date one at a time?” It just seemed to be an inefficient use of time to me. I always was a multi-tasker.

Well, one thing stayed the same. Daughter complained that everybody she dated wanted to get married while all she wanted was just to go out and have fun!

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Zombeans, Farts, and Other Observations From a 4-Year-Old Boy

We never know what our four-year-old grandson is going to come up with when he’s asked a question. For example, we were in the drive through at Chick-Fil-A trying to make an order for three grandchildren Saturday. After the food order was completed, SwampMan asked “Y’all want three chocolate milks to drink, right?” Dylan spoke up loudly for the speaker. “Not for me. I’ll have a beer!” Where’d THAT come from? Nobody drinks in his family, his other grandparents, uncles, or aunts, or in ours. We don’t know. It just came flyin’ out with no warning whatsoever. “Yep, that’ll be three chocolate milks,” responded SwampMan, fairly unflappable, although I was a little worried that the folks inside were taking our license tag to report to the police about how we were giving beer to a 4 year old as a mealtime beverage.

On the drive back from picking up the grandchildren for a stay with us, the subject of zombies came up. The four year old explained to us the different types of zombies (or zombeans, as he calls them). “There’s reglar brain sucking zombeans…” “It’s ZOMBIES, not ZOMBEANS!” his brother interrupted. “And then there’s eyeball sucking zombeans…” “ZOMBIES!” “and there’s gut sucking zombeans and there’s face sucking zombeans.” “There’s no such thing as zombies!” declared his 7-year-old brother, Jacob. “But there’s no such thing as zombeans!” agreed Dylan, because his big brother knows EVERYTHING.

SwampMan decided to change the topic of conversation from types of zombies to driving safety for a teaching moment. “Should I stop at the stop sign, boys?”

“YES!” they chorused.

“Why should we stop at the stop sign?”

“So we don’t get killed by other drivers!” said the 7 year old.

“Should I stop at the stop sign even if I don’t see other cars coming?” queried SwampMan.

“Yes!” said Dylan.

“Why?” asked SwampMan. Oh, no! Another direct question!

“Because,” explained Dylan, “When you’re stopped, it will be safe to fart if you have to.”

Maybe they should put that in the driving manual.

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