CRAPTACULAR and Stuff
Ever have one of those days that just screams "I AM CRAPTACULAR--GO BACK TO BED!" so loudly and so consistently that you start to wonder why the heck you are continuing to go through the motions? Of course you have. I had one today.
It started this morning with a glance into everyone's favorite fish tank of horrors. There was a fish missing, specifically Perc, the Nemo fishy (technically called a Percula, but I find Nemo fishy to be much more descriptive and cute). Now, I recently caught the icky brittle starfish pink-headed, confirming my suspicions that I had hit the lottery and managed to get one of the really rare and hardly seen predator starfish. So my first thought was that the starfish was enjoying a $30 dessert to top off the $20 pink-headed meal it enjoyed last week. But no, Perc had managed to get into the filters in the bank of the tank. How? I dunno. He probably had help from the ghost crab or something.
Anyhoo, I grabbed the net and scooped up Perc so that I could put him back in the main part of the tank. That's when the little jerk decided to go all toddler on me by refusing my help. He leaped across the room and landed with a flop on the wood floor. Cue Toddler pointing and yelling "OOK MOMMY, PERC FLYING!" I found that to be really helpful as I tried to find the bright orange blob on the floor. I don't touch slimy things with my bare hands, so I grabbed the rubber gloves (What? You don't keep rubber gloves in your kids' room? You totally should.) I scooped him up only for him to find the energy to flop across the room again. Now go back and read that sentence three more times because that is how many tries it took me to finally pick the stupid thing up and drop it into the fish tank.
Where it promptly dropped to the bottom faster than a brick with a lead weight tied to its not foot.
A very furry, dirty brick.
Um, yeah, the fish at one point flopped under Alexis' bed where we like to keep a few spare pounds of cat fur around just in case one of them suddenly starts experiencing male pattern baldness. We're always thinking of their feelings, you know. Anyway, Perc sat perfectly still on the bottom of the tank. The jerkface starfish apparently smelled blood in the water because he went flying over to the side of the tank where Perc was chilling. Just as I thought I was going to have to intervene unless I wanted to watch some fishy carnage, Perc suddenly sprung to life and started swimming around like his tail fin was on fire.
(For the record, Perc now appears to be fine. He managed to swim off his fur coat and seems absolutely perfect. I expect that I won't be saying the same for the starfish in a day or two. He might be getting to go for a swim in our lovely sewer system just as soon as someone can catch him.)
All the fishy commotion led to a late departure which led to a late arrival at daycare. I LOVE LOVE LOVE when I'm late getting to daycare and one of the teachers finds it appropriate to give me crap. Breakfast ends promptly at 8:00, in case you didn't know. Except that I do know because I have been told that exact same thing at least eleventy bazillion times. It's a lie. I know it's a lie because breakfast starts at 7:45 and there is no way in H E double hockey sticks all those kids manage to get served and eat their breakfast that fast. It's common sense. Oh, and a little birdy told me it's a lie. So shut up and feed my kid, thankyouverymuch.
Off to work I went where my CRAPTACULAR day continued. The most craptacular part of it was when I got to spend my lunch at a barbecue not eating hamburgers and hot dogs because I don't eat dead critters. Meanwhile, I wanted to be spending my lunch in greenhouse bliss. My favorite greenhouse opened for the season today and THAT event is considered a national holiday in my head. This year, I did not celebrate that holiday and I am bummed.
The latest in the CRAPTACULAR was when I was trying to eat my happy little bowl of soup for dinner. The Toddler, who was previously totally content eating at her very own table in a different time zone, came waddling over bearing a mouth full of half-chewed carrots. She decided she HAD to sit in my lap and use her entire body to block my soup. As my yummy soup quietly chanted "eat me," the Toddler tried to say that she wanted some, but all I heard was woooah wooooah woooah because of the half-chewed carrots that were crammed into her piehole and falling out of her face. I figured I should throw a "No" out there to which she responded by shoving her entire chubby little hand into my bowl of soup. And stir. And slosh. And PLOP goes a hunk of half-eaten carrots into my bowl. Such a sweet kid.
I am now going to obey today and GO TO BED like I should have when it told me the first time.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
