We are having a fantastic time up in the wilds of Maine. I have reconnected with some old friends and had lots of new adventures. I will write more when I am back to civilization and high speed (glorious high speed) internet. In the meantime here is a photo of our most recent new experiences – ICE CREAM:
Since I am on vacation and far from civilization I have decided to invite some guest bloggers to fill in in the funny that normally resides here.
Today’s post is actually an excerpt from an email I received yesterday from my very good friend Jeff, he didn’t know at the time that this particular email would make it onto the internets, but I really feel like this will enrich all your lives significantly.
All you need to know is that Jeff lives in California and Ralph’s and Vons are the names of competing grocery stores – enjoy…
My annoyance started when I went to Ralph’s to do my grocery shopping after work. Grocery shopping at 5:00pm on a Friday is always a joy. But anyway, I really prefer Vons over Ralph’s because Ralph’s is always a friggin’ madhouse and their prices are higher. Plus, I never really know if I’m getting a deal at Ralph’s. Most of their “club savings” shit is like “2 for $6.00” …well, do I get one for $3.00?? I just don’t know. Anyway, I digress. I went to Ralph’s because I was in Vons this morning buying much needed bagels in bulk and looked to see if they had any PepsiOne – since I knew I’d be doing “big shopping” after work. (You know how I love my PepsiOne!) Sadly, they did not and thus the trip to Ralph’s.
So Ralph’s didn’t have any PepsiOne either and that was the seed – the germination point of my annoyance. Because now I have to buy stupid PepsiMax, which isn’t the same thing – even though the packaging is almost identical. I really think PepsiOne is gone from our grocer’s shelves. I’ve been expecting it. They never updated the logo to that retarded new Pepsi logo that all the other flavors got. I’m rambling again. Sorry, but this is all very emotional to me. Like losing a dearly loved family member or realizing that TiVo didn’t record “Operation Repo”.
So there I am not having my treasured PepsiOne AND having to shop at fucking Ralph’s! Is it any wonder I was ready to kill the 1st shopper who got in my way? I think not.
Okay, so I bring my overpriced groceries home and put them away – only to discover that my ice maker has decided it no longer needs to, you know, make ice. Its done this sort of thing before – like a rebellious teenager. Generally, I just pull the big tray out, touch & move all the touch able and movable parts and it kicks back into gear. But in the meantime, its like Africa hot and I “need” my cocktail(s)! It IS Friday after all.
So I get back in my car and head to the Vons for ice. I walk in and head directly to the ice thingy – I know it like the back of my hand since in the last three weeks I’ve been camping, to a beach BBQ and then camping again. The ice thingy is empty. COMPLETELY EMPTY! You’d expect that sort of thing last weekend with the big holiday, but on Friday, July 8th? That’s random and annoying. But just before I gave up and left, I kinda remembered that there was some other ice. Fancy ice they keep in another location – “designer” ice maybe – over in the ice cream isle. So yeah, there was like lemon infused ice, “tropical” ice (??) and whatever I bought – I think its dessert ice. Or maybe after dinner ice. Might be “date nite ice” I don’t know. But it was ice and I bought it! …well almost.
Me and my bag of Gucci ice head on up to the checkout and I swear to you Becca, it looked like the queues to get into Disneyland on opening day. Hordes of shoppers with their kids and their carts and their unnecessary purchases. It was mayhem. I picked my line and approach just a woman and her small mulatto child also approach. She goes first without the customary “no YOU go ahead! No YOU go!” dialog. She just went. At this point I should mention that she has about 74lbs of shitty jewelry on and is dragging a dog behind her on a leash. I wanted to ask her if she was blind, since you don’t bring dogs into the grocery store unless they are to “aid the visually disabled” …and it would also explain her ADHD barbie toting mulatto child, her poor wardrobe choice and the pink tips in her hair. But somehow civility got the better of me and I said nothing. Don’t you HATE when that happens?
This next part of they story – I swear – I’m not making this up. She’s not in line to buy anything. No, she’s here to return a half eaten box of, like, “Nature Valley Granola Bars” and (my hand to Jesus) a half chopped up cucumber! Are you fucking kidding me?!? Sparks start-a-flyin’ when the UPC code on the half eaten granola bars doesn’t even exist in the Vons database. So after much wrangling, she got 84 cents for her mangled, half chopped cucumber. I, on the other hand, lost 23 minutes of my life that I’ll never get back.
It just kills me that we both arrived at the same line at the same time – me with my solitary bag of gucci ice and her with her nasty cucumber and her schemes of embezzlement. Wouldn’t any normal-ish human with an ounce of compassion waive the guy with the ice to go ahead of you?
I think I hate all people. And I’m embarrassed by what we, as a collective species, have become. Plus my roommate just locked me out of my own house.
P.S. I was going to clean up the language a little bit but I’m much to lazy, besides I’m on vacation, remember?
Lucy,
Today you turn 11 months and you have had some major developments this month, but the most important one by far, is that you have started making this face:
Awesome!
You make your father and I laugh everyday. You wake up every morning laughing and excited to do… well anything. Your laugh is infectious and the most wonderful sound EVER. This month you have begun mixing it up, with a little giggling, shrieking and belly laughing. Several times brand new noises have come out of your mouth that make your Dad and I laugh until our eyes water.
We did some fun stuff this month, we took you downtown for father’s day and fed you in two separate bars:
And we visited several fountains:
I took you to Philadelphia Zoo one Saturday and you got to pet sheep and goats and you could not get enough. Your Dad bought you a pool for the front porch and there hasn’t been a day since we brought it home that you haven’t been in it:
Just last week you took your first steps all by yourself, you are getting so strong, you are only walking 3 or 4 feet by yourself right now, but I know it won’t be long before you are running all over the place.
You are talking too – not anything we fully understand, but its clear that you know what you are talking about. You babble all the time and you have started to gesture – pointing to things that you want, or food that you need to eat.
Mostly you are just a joy, everyday I can’t believe how lucky we are to have you.
I love you, Mama.
The best time of my day occurs at 7:30 pm each evening, right after the Jeopardy winner of the day is decided. We scope Lucy up in a big ol bear hug and transport her upstairs to begin getting her ready for the bath. It starts with the three of us sitting on the floor of her bedroom, projecting stars onto the ceiling via her twilight turtle. This never fails to astound.
Then we bring out the BIG GIANT PANDA – big giant panda was a Christmas gift that she got excited about for 5 minutes and then promptly forgot about until about a week ago and now he’s the best thing EVER. He’s taller than she is and can completely surround her with his big giant panda arms – she can barely contain herself.
Then, just when you think things can’t get any better, she gets nekkid and gets to throw herself all over big giant panda without any clothes on… We let her run around nekkid while her Dad gets her bath ready.
In a fit of giggles and flailing arms she is set in a tub of warm water – WATER, OMG WATER! Water is by far WAY better than big giant panda. She squeals and kicks and grabs for the wash cloth and splashes around until we finally decide that perhaps we should actually bathe her. Her father has this down to a science and can wash her in entirety in 6 minutes. Six minutes I spend signing the “No hands in the face song” Cause, you know soapy hands in the eyes…
No hands in the face
No hands in the face
No, no, no, no hands in the face
Sung to the tune of ‘farmer in the dell’
Once she’s clean we sit her up and throw all sort of manner of toys at her – octopuses and cows, sheep and lady bugs – we squirt water at her with them while she squeals In delight and tries to splash so hard it gets the whole room soaking wet. Just about the time she’s dropped all of the aforementioned toys over the side of the tub (you know, to see where they end up) Dad brings out the bubbles – BUBBLES and blows hundreds of them into her face. This quiets her down, while she puts on her serious face and tries to unlock the mystery of the disappearing bubbles.
Eventually she’ll give us a sign, she’s had enough water and bubble excitement and we will lift her out of the tub, wrap her in a big terry cloth towel and stand with her in front of the bathroom mirror where she laughs at herself all nekkid and wet.
Back in her bedroom we get ready for bed, diapered and lotioned and put into jammies. If it’s my turn to get her ready we do this while I regale her with my rendition of ‘little bunny foo foo.’ If it’s her Dad’s turn to get her ready he regales her by humming the theme to Star Wars. Both seem to make her happy – there is no clear favorite.
Afterwards I nurse her and if she’s really tired she’ll simply fall asleep in my lap, if not she finishes eating, gives us both big smiles and waves as she’s taken upstairs. She’s usually asleep before I wish her sweet dreams and quietly close her door.
I LOVE Bath time.
Sticky Jam Hands 