Thursday, December 23, 2004

Adventures During J's First Week of Winter Break

Since J's out of school for more than two weeks, this month, the plan was that she'd spend the first week with Momo (my mom). The day before her trip there, we got an email from J's teacher saying that she was chosen as the lucky kid with the great fortune of taking the class pet home for the holidays! YAY! So, off I go to school to pick up Crush, the turtle. I'm expecting a little, tiny turtle in a cute little hand held carrier type thingy full of leaves and rocks. I was wrong to expect such things. As it turns out, Crush is not tiny and Crush does not live in a cute tiny home. Crush is a medium-sized box turtle (about 8 inches long or so) and lives in a 3 foot AQUARIUM. Uh huh. Not so simple. So, anyway, I go pick Crush up, right? And I stare at the science teacher as she's spouting out instructions and rules and a bunch of other important mumbo-jumbo while in my mind, I'm thinking, "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?!" There's heating pads to be left on and lights to be on and off and water to be de-clorinated and food to be sprinkled...and something about apples are good and plain iceburg lettuce is not. And probably other important crap I can't remember anymore. Plus, the turtle came with a book. To read. Over the holidays. About turtles. What?! So, we go home and set the turtle up on J's desk. And J starts going on and on about 78 degrees and sunshine and other such nonsense about turtles. And I'm thinking, "how the hell can you remember all these facts and instructions when you can't remember to wipe your own ass?!" I didn't say it out loud, though - didn't want to discourage her from learning about...turtles. Ugh. Anyway...

At this precise time in our world, Rosie, the hell cat, was waiting at the vet's for us to pick her up after being declawed. Finally! So, I drop J at Momo's. Then I pick Rosie up. I'll have to remember to post a picture here of how she looked all bandaged up! She was a puss in boots! Cuuuuutie Pie!! Anyway, Rosie had miraculously turned into the cutest, sweetest, most nicest kitty in all the whole world! Seriously, ya'll! Hu and I couldn't bebberlieve it. She was a whole new person...Errrr...cat. And we loved her more than life.

Cats and turtles were living in perfect harmony until Monday, the day Rosie's bandages came off. The hell cat was back! The moment hubber opened her cage, she sprang out, over the kitchen counter, through the window into the dining room, behind the sofa, under the christmas tree and finally under J's bed. Jesus. Then Huber notices little red paw prints everywhere. Hmmmm. What could that mean? So, he picks Rosie up to inspect her. The little heffer had busted several stitches!! So, he put her back in her cage. And that's where she stayed until I got home - an hour later. I'm like, "Hubber, what's Rosie doing in her cage with a bloody towel??" Then he proceeds to explain what happened and how he called the vet and they said he could bandage her back up himself if he wanted. Uhm. I don't think so. So we took her back. And had the vet people bandage her back up. And guess what, people? She became a little angel again. So, now we're thinking how nifty it would be just to leave her bandaged for the REST OF HER DAMN LIFE. What could possibly be wrong with that?! There was one other dramatic event that involved a bandaged cat paw covered with stinky, mushy cat shit. But, I won't go there now. That's one image I would like to forever erase from my memory.

On a lighter note: Every day while J's been gone, she's been leaving really cute messages on the answering machine at home. "Hi Mom. Hi Dad. It's me, J (as if we didn't know). I'm having fun at Momo's. I have so much to tell ya'll! Today I ate CRAB for the first time, ever! It was really good! And there's something else I wanted to tell ya'll....(long pause)hmmm...I forgot. Anyway, I love you, I miss you, Bye!" BEEEEEP.... "Hi Mom. Hi Dad. It's me, J (CUUUUTE!!!). I'm still at Momo's. Popo just came back from the store. He found a wet dollar in the parking lot and said I could have it. He also said he didn't want it because someone probably spit and pee-ed all over it. Momo says he's lying. Ok. I love ya'll. Bye!" BEEEEEP.... "Hi Mom. Hi Dad. It's me, J. Why haven't ya'll called me back? Ok. That's all. Bye!"

So, now it's Thursday. Cat is still bandaged. Turtle is still alive. And Julie comes back home today! It's been interesting. The End.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

NUTcracker...

So, this year, Hubber and I decided to start a new family tradition. Seeing the Nutcracker ballet. Since we don't have enough crap going on during the holidays, we figured, what the hell, let's throw in 3 $60 seats to support the Houston Ballet. We have some extra cash...and we're high-roller-wannabes, so it was the perfect plan! That is, the perfect plan that turned into 2 hours of hellish torture. It wasn't the performance that nearly drove us to a murderous rage. It wasn't the children, laughing, talking, crying, running around, bumping our seats, either. It was the lady sitting directly behind us. She hummed every fucking song...loudly and OFF KEY! We didn't blow nearly $200 on tickets to hear this beyotch ruin christmas, we spent money to listen to the orchestra and watch a goshdarned BALLET! It took every ounce of patience I could muster not to turn around and smack the shit out of that lady. What the hell was she trying to prove, anyway? Did she want us all to know that she KNEW those tunes? EVERYBODY knows those damn tunes - they've been pounded in our heads every holiday season since we were babies! I hate that lady. I hate her for ruining our first annual trip to the Nutcracker. I hate her for being the one clear memory I'll ever have of that event. But I hate her even more because now every time I hear a Nutcracker song, I'll think of HER! She was ugly, too. I think she even stunk. Like shit. Baking in the hot, hot sun.