Monday, June 15, 2009

Steak sauce and inappropriate uses for toothpaste

Hi there.

It's nap time at our house, so I thought I would take a moment to write.

Since I know y'all are dying to hear about the latest installment of Bubbles the Wonder Kitty (AKA Bubbles the Cat Who Hates Her Family), here is the latest update:

Imagine my surprise when the "new" family Mom I mentioned in my last letter approached me at the pool and apologized for feeding our cat.

She said she felt like she had clearly offended someone, and just wanted to make sure I understood that she was very sorry, and wanted to know what to do in the event Bubbles showed up at her door again.

Apparently when "other family" Mom called her to tell her it was in fact Bubbles she had, and not a stray, she read "new" Mom the riot act. So, in addition to having multiple families, and fast becoming the most notorious cat in the neighborhood, Bubbles now has an agent who acts on her behalf. I guess legal owners need not be present when kitty power of attorneys are signed . . .

And as it turns out, the only reason "new" family (for the record, "new" family will thusly be referred to as "temporary" family) fed Bubbles tuna and milk, was to get her out of their house.

In typical Bubbles fashion, she saw an open door and ran for it. But since "temporary" Mom is "not an animal person" (her words), she was afraid to pick her up.

"Temporary" Mom made valiant efforts to bribe her eldest son into picking kitty up, but turns out he had no idea how to pick a cat up (apparently the whole family "are not animal" people). So, for lack of a better way to do it, "temporary" Mom opened a can of tuna, and lured Bubbles out of the house.

Safe at home, we kept her inside for three days. But Addie let her out, and off she went, again. No further sightings, and two days later, we received a call at 10:30pm (so late in our world) from a different neighbor telling us that Bubbles was at their house, and was looking lost and confused.

Since it is purely on principal that we keep this cat (because lord knows there is no other reason), I was half expecting a ransom call that late at night . . . (imagine a deep husky whisper) "You got a cat named Bubbles? Unless you want her to sleep wid da fishes, ya better pay up."

Perhaps I have an overactive imagination.

We had quite an adventure last week - Addie was sick, and I had the privilege of choosing between the kid throwing up on the floor, and the kid screaming to be fed . . .

At nap time last week, I walked past Addie's room and saw her laying on the floor (not so unusual, since she only actually sleeps IN her bed about 40% of the time) covered in something blue. Silly me asked her what it was, and she responded, "it's bottom cream."

Upon further inspection, I discovered that in fact, it was toothpaste she had spread all over her jammies, diaper, bottom, floor, dresser and so on. When I told her it was toothpaste, and not intended for one's behind, she said, "Daddy said it was bottom cream, and my bottom hurts."

I thought she was just using that active imagination of her's, and wrote it off as one of those things kids do.

Well, unbeknownst to me, in an effort to keep Addie from opening yet another tube of toothpaste (she already has four open tubes in her drawer. Of course, I guess you need that many when you have eight toothbrushes that you alternate between), Jeff had in fact told her it was bottom cream.

He should have been wary when she immediately put the tube in her diaper drawer . . .

Lately we've been feeling like we live in some sort of wildlife park, which is good and bad. I don't mind the large turtles coming by, but I draw the line at 5 ft. snakes. At least we've been able to keep them from carrying Lorelei off.

Good news on the potty training front. Addie has finally connected sitting on the toilet with treats. And wonder of wonders, we've had a few successes. Of course, the biggest challenge is training us.

When the girl says she needs to use the potty, we should listen.
A year of sitting her on the pot to no avail, has us a bit jaded. But we'll learn, I'm confident.

In addition to a small sweet treat, Addie also gets a tattoo if she actually uses the potty for its intended purpose. That's all well and good, but what does one do if afore-mentioned child uses the potty five or six times in one day? At the moment she only has three tats, but I'm a little concerned the conservative religious preschool she attends, will not approve of our "painted" child when she shows up to school covered from head to toe in temporary tattoos (because god forbid she let us clean any off).

Addie is really embracing the wonderful world of her imagination, and has extended her conversations to (and with) her food.

The other day at breakfast, she told me she had a little tiny chicken wrapped in her washclothe, and at lunch she held a small piece of ham in her hands like it was a baby bird and said, "Shhhh Mommy, this is littly tiny baby ham."

Well of course it was.

You'll all be happy to know there were no arrests during any of the Rock Hill HS graduations. Two people were seen being escorted out, but police could not be reached for comment.

They reprinted the graduation expectations just for my benefit and amusement - "Attendees were to wear 'appropriate attire (no shorts, tank tops or t-shirts),' not leave their seats to take pictures during the program, hold their applause, and not stand or shout until all diplomas are awarded."

Remember, these rules were not for the graduates, but their parents.

In addition to the recap on the uneventful graduation ceremonies, these two pieces of shocking news headlined our paper recently:

Sidewalk to Close for Utility Work - My favorite part about this one, was that it was not a significant stretch of sidewalk, nor was it in a heavily traveled area. Yet, there it was.

Shoplifter escapes with $60 worth of steak hidden in his pants. But don't worry, he shoved a bottle of steak sauce down there too. I'm just glad to see we have a high enough caliber of thief that he'd think to grab some condiments.

So just between you, me and the fencepost, that's all the news that fit to print.

Take care,

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