The skeleton that was hiding out in Rebekah's locker? Antoine? Well, he's making himself quite at home around the Lazurek Funny Farm these days. You never know where that bony bozo will pop up. Right now, he is clad in a martial arts outfit, providing inspiration for a short story that Rebekah is writing for her Literature class in school. She is calling it, "The Haunted Karate Bus," and Antoine makes a cameo appearance at the end as the driver of the bus. She finished the rough draft of the story, and the final is due this Friday. I wonder if her teacher will think she is warped?
Parenting Stuff from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: Some things I find myself asking as a mother:
What is a package of googly eyes doing in this corner of the room?
Why is there a Pokemon figure on top of the mailbox?
Speaking of the mailbox, is there any reason WHY it was taken off the post and turned around backwards so that it opened toward the house instead of the road? (I'm sure our mail woman LOVED us for that one)
And whose handprint in purple paint is on the mailbox door?
How did silly string end up on the ceiling? (stupid question, that)
Who do you think you are, Bo and Luke Duke? And my truck is the General Lee?
Why does the dog/cat have blue/pink/green paint on him?
Is there any reason WHY there are several naked Barbies hanging from the tree in the front yard?
Why is there a stool, a drill, a pair of leopard print tights, a roll of paper towels, and a tube of toothpaste on the front walkway?
What made me think that I need to get knocked up to be a "fulfilled" woman, anyway? Was I temporarily insane? (this to the Czech Pecker, not to the spawns of Satan)
On a positive note, it's never boring around here, and the spawns have inherited my artistic abilities. J.P. and I spent the weekend painting together, and Rebekah and I are starting to have some intelligent conversations about history, books, and theology. I still have to ask myself the off-the-wall questions in between these idylls of peacefulness, though. The way I see it, when I'm old and gray, it will give me something to look back on and laugh about. And hey, if these two imps ever have little demons of their own, will I EVER have some stories to tell them about their parents!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
My daughter has a skeleton in her closet!
Well, the skeleton is not in her closet. He was in her locker at school for a day. Now, she takes him around with her places. His name is Antoine, and he is her BFF.
Antoine came into Rebekah's life several days ago when she bought him for a skit that she and some other girls did for their History class at school. Evidently, Antoine's role was that of either a Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon who had died from a club wound to the back of the head, and they were archaeologists discovering him. He had been buried with jewelry and flowers. Rebekah informed me that their skit, especially Antoine's role, was a big hit. Incidentally, Rebekah came up with his name from a "Drake & Josh" episode.
After his starring role, Antoine has retired to the Lazurek Funny Farm where he dresses in pajamas at bedtime, and his favorite daytime wear is one of J.P.'s hoodies. A couple of evenings ago, I discovered Antoine on the sofa reading Rebekah's Ignatius Study Bible. The darling Czech Pecker made a comment about the jaw of an ass.
J.P. is now wanting to get a twin for Antoine. Who knows what might happen around here when the twin shows up?
Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: When the kids want to drag out the skeletons in the closet, let them have a little fun with them!
Antoine came into Rebekah's life several days ago when she bought him for a skit that she and some other girls did for their History class at school. Evidently, Antoine's role was that of either a Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon who had died from a club wound to the back of the head, and they were archaeologists discovering him. He had been buried with jewelry and flowers. Rebekah informed me that their skit, especially Antoine's role, was a big hit. Incidentally, Rebekah came up with his name from a "Drake & Josh" episode.
After his starring role, Antoine has retired to the Lazurek Funny Farm where he dresses in pajamas at bedtime, and his favorite daytime wear is one of J.P.'s hoodies. A couple of evenings ago, I discovered Antoine on the sofa reading Rebekah's Ignatius Study Bible. The darling Czech Pecker made a comment about the jaw of an ass.
J.P. is now wanting to get a twin for Antoine. Who knows what might happen around here when the twin shows up?
Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: When the kids want to drag out the skeletons in the closet, let them have a little fun with them!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Those Crazy Hurricanes
It looks like New Orleans and the Gulf coast didn't get slammed quite as bad as feared by Gustav, and that is a good thing, although a lot of people are returning to the area without power. Still, it could have been so much worse. Now, we're looking at our own coastline here in the Carolinas at Hanna. We're all laughing here because my niece's name is Hannah, and she is QUITE the character! It is appropriate that a tropical storm/hurricane is named after her.
And speaking of hurricanes in Charleston, it takes me back to good ol' Hugo back in 1989. That is when the darling Czech Pecker and I started our love story. *snort* I can't say that with a straight face. We were students at the College of Charleston and got kicked out of the dorms when they saw this big-ass hurricane heading straight for us. About a week after the hurricane, we returned to campus to resume the semester, complete with a curfew starting at dusk--we could go to the library, but anything else out in the city was taboo, and quite frankly, with all those National Guard guys with their big guns trained on anything that moved, I was more than willing to stay put.
So, there we were, my friend and roommate at the time, Annette, walking across campus, trying not to trip over fallen tree limbs laden with Spanish moss, and I was musing on the idea that it might be good thing to become a nun. About that time, we saw somebody we knew across the street heading to his dorm room--the darling Czech Pecker! Except I didn't call him that back then. We weren't even dating yet. I immediately dropped the idea of becoming a nun, and we called out. We walked with him to his room, where he tried in vain to open his door that had become stuck due to humidity swelling the wood. It took him a good 15 minutes or more of shoving, and I stood there not helping at all, snorting with laughter.
It is now 19 years later, we've been married over 17 years of that, and not much has changed in some respects. I still have some moments when I think becoming a nun might have been a good idea, after all, but then I realize I wasn't really cut out for it. And I still stand back and laugh when he tries to do things in vain instead of being useful. I'm really good at that.
Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: There comes a time in the parenthood of every mom and dad when those little darling spawns of Satan drive you crazier than a shit house rat. Don't deny it. You know it's true. And if you're really honest with yourself, you will admit that you might have thought about selling those precious treasures to the first band of traveling gypsies that come through your neighborhood. Since we rarely see such bands in the United States in this day and age, it can provide a dilemma for the exasperated parent.
I have thought of trying to find somebody who might be willing to barter with me. I am especially interested in trading for Siberian Huskies. Oh sure, they can be like children, too, and certainly get into their share of mischief. You should see my back yard presently due to the antics of my pack. It looks like a war zone. However, my Huskies never complain, they appreciate everything that I give them, and I don't have to pay tuition for them.
Any takers?
And speaking of hurricanes in Charleston, it takes me back to good ol' Hugo back in 1989. That is when the darling Czech Pecker and I started our love story. *snort* I can't say that with a straight face. We were students at the College of Charleston and got kicked out of the dorms when they saw this big-ass hurricane heading straight for us. About a week after the hurricane, we returned to campus to resume the semester, complete with a curfew starting at dusk--we could go to the library, but anything else out in the city was taboo, and quite frankly, with all those National Guard guys with their big guns trained on anything that moved, I was more than willing to stay put.
So, there we were, my friend and roommate at the time, Annette, walking across campus, trying not to trip over fallen tree limbs laden with Spanish moss, and I was musing on the idea that it might be good thing to become a nun. About that time, we saw somebody we knew across the street heading to his dorm room--the darling Czech Pecker! Except I didn't call him that back then. We weren't even dating yet. I immediately dropped the idea of becoming a nun, and we called out. We walked with him to his room, where he tried in vain to open his door that had become stuck due to humidity swelling the wood. It took him a good 15 minutes or more of shoving, and I stood there not helping at all, snorting with laughter.
It is now 19 years later, we've been married over 17 years of that, and not much has changed in some respects. I still have some moments when I think becoming a nun might have been a good idea, after all, but then I realize I wasn't really cut out for it. And I still stand back and laugh when he tries to do things in vain instead of being useful. I'm really good at that.
Parenting Tip of the Day from the Witch and the Czech Pecker: There comes a time in the parenthood of every mom and dad when those little darling spawns of Satan drive you crazier than a shit house rat. Don't deny it. You know it's true. And if you're really honest with yourself, you will admit that you might have thought about selling those precious treasures to the first band of traveling gypsies that come through your neighborhood. Since we rarely see such bands in the United States in this day and age, it can provide a dilemma for the exasperated parent.
I have thought of trying to find somebody who might be willing to barter with me. I am especially interested in trading for Siberian Huskies. Oh sure, they can be like children, too, and certainly get into their share of mischief. You should see my back yard presently due to the antics of my pack. It looks like a war zone. However, my Huskies never complain, they appreciate everything that I give them, and I don't have to pay tuition for them.
Any takers?
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