Litkia went to Student Life Kids Camp this week at Shocco Springs.  Camp ended today and she just got home.  She looks like she hasn't brushed her hair since Monday and her mouth will not stop moving.  I really missed her while she was gone, but If I hear "and guess what" one more time, I'm likely to fall over dead.  Okay, maybe not.  But man is she wired and smiley...and talky.

Beej

I've just about had it.  Seriously people.  Put your dog on a leash or behind a fence.  This town has a leash law you know.  I don't REALLY want to spray him with pepper spray when he RUNS INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD TO EAT ME...but I will.  And please for heavens sake, don't just WATCH him eat me....DO SOMETHING!  Something besides clapping your hands and saying "oh he's only a puppy"...because I just don't care how old his teeth are, and that's the only thing about him that I can see properly.  And if I approach you and ask you if that's your dog, please don't act like I slapped you and get all offended before you even hear what I'm going to say.

It's doesn't happen every night, but I'd say 1/4 of my run/walks include me being chased by or snapped at by a dog. On my street and on one street over, I have encountered six different dogs, all of different sizes and levels of aggression.  The truth is, no matter how small, I'm still very nervous and I'm actually afraid I'll have to seriously hurt one to keep it from biting me one day. I'll go several days without seeing any of them and just about the time I'm feeling safe again, dog #1 runs out into the middle of the street, barking, snarling and biting at me and makes me scream. It's not like I'm even on his side of the danged road.  He has trained me as if I were a Pavlovian dog, to walk on the other side of the street.  Too bad dog #4 lives over there...but he's not as big as dog #1 and I feel my chances of survival are better on that side.

You might wonder why I don't just pick another place to exercise.  The truth is that I don't want to.  I like being close to home. It's MY street. I should be able to traverse it wtihout fear.  And by jingy there's a danged law that says these people are in the wrong. Besides, my mama told me that people are more important than animals and I just have to agree.  Let's all be reasonable here.  Or, hey...don't, and we'll see who wins the dog fight that will inevitably ensue.

Beej

I'm no sports fan, but even I know about that poor, pathetic Greg Norman.

He chokes again. And to add insult to injury...now he's old.

He did just marry Chris Evert. But, hey, she's old too.

Beej

p.s.  ...and did you see that girl fight between Danica Patrick and whatserface Duno? That was brilliantly bad behavior. I'm telling they mamas.

I know it's going to be difficult for all of you to swallow this, but there's something I'm not very good at (besides the false eyelash thing). You know those little thermometer tip covers that are used with digital thermometers? I can't figure them out.  The instructions are printed right on the little suckers and I can absolutely read them, but inevitably, something goes wrong. There has to be a trick to it.

Now ask me why I need to hone this skill. What is that? You want to know why I need to hone this skill?  Litkia is running a fever.  A very high fever in fact.  Therefore, as a good mother (and we all know i am), I need to stick that thermometer in her mouth ad nauseum. Oh but wait, nausea isn't one of her symptoms and I'd rather not open that can of worms, so let's just rephrase and say I need to stick that thermometer in her mouth a freakin' lot of times.  She seems fine other than the fever. She doesn't LOOK sick.  She doesn't ACT sick. She's still smiling. I don't have a fever. Why is it that I seem to be the one feeling ill?

Beej

Do you or do you not remember Mercurochrome and Methiolate?

When you had a bike wreck, scraped your knee and then showed your mama the damage, did you or did you not freak out when you saw her coming at you holding that bottle from the medicine cabinet with the red-stained label?

Also, while I'm thinking about it, did your bike have a banana seat and a sissy bar?

If you have no clue what I'm talking about, I assume you aren't as old as I am. I wonder how young you can be and still know about these things. You can't buy Merthiolate anymore, I think. It's been banned or something as being a hazard to your health. Hey! I got that stuff smeared on me all the time and I'm still PERFECTLY NORMAL (shut up).

I want to rub some of that stuff on my kids and watch them squirm. I want to give them the joy of walking around stained red-orange for weeks on end. My mama always said, "one day you'll be the mama and you can do (insert motherly activity)". But see....I can't. I AM the mama now, but I can't pass along the sting because I can't buy the stuff. No worries. I still have Dr. Tichenor's! My Daddy believed in that stuff and boy howdy, it made Merthiolate feel like a danged walk in the park.

I have a friend who has told her children NOT to show their grandmother any cuts, scrapes, bruises or interesting skin lesions because she doesn't want her mother putting BLEACH on them. Apparently, she believes it to be the cure all, above all. And then of course there's the father from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" who squirted Windex on anything and everything. I haven't tried either of those things (yet).

I just think it's my turn and now all I need to do is pick my poison.

Beej