Human Bean Soup

Jude has had a rocky relationship with his locker since the first day of this school year.

So far he has:

-been late to class

-been cited for loitering in the halls between classes

-missed lunch

-missed recess

-nearly been locked in the school for the night

-and very nearly been institutionalized for hysterical and unexplained behaviors including aggravated locker violence…

-all resulting from his severe deficiency in human/locker relations.

It’s been rough on them both.

But, fear not, Grasshopper.

Something wonderful- something magical and miraculous has occurred.

They have found each other.

The following is Jude’s declaration of self discovery and elation:

“I have finally figured out that if I stroke my locker just right before I put in the combination it almost ALWAYS opens!”

And, so it was that the magical boy and the vicious locker melded hearts and minds alike.

And, they both lived happily ever after…

…or DID they?

How ADORABLE are these?

And, don’t even get me started on these-

or these-

Stunning, right?

Do they have Margot written all over them or what?

Check these little beauties out-

HERE

-sigh-

It has been-

15 years, 10 months, 12 days

or

828 weeks

or

5,797 days

or

139,128 hours

or

8,347,680 minutes

or

500,860,900 seconds

since that moment on the bus…

and the clock keeps ticking.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Rex.

And, thank you for making every second-

of every minute-

of every hour-

of EVERY day…

so very special.

Yours forever,

Nettalien

These were the sing-song words of Simon this evening as he danced around the house in the likeness of a slaphappy leprechaun.

Bear in mind that Sundays are normally the day of darkness and despair in the narrative of Simon’s life. The ritual begins first thing on Saturday morning:

“Is tomorrow…gulp…

(dry heave, dramatic eye rolling, heavy sigh)

SUN-DAY?!”

“Do I HAVE to go to church? I HATE church! It’s too long, it’s boring and there’s NOTHING TO EAT!”

-followed by an hourly reminder that if we make him go to church he will NOT like it and parents who love their children do not subject them to the horrors of things like SUN-DAY!

…for 24 hours…

Needless to say I am intrigued by tonight’s exuberant declaration.

“What made this Sunday better than the rest?” ask I…

“Well, first of all, they LIKED me at church because I behaved myself!”

Ah, yes- we’re off to a good start.

“Second of all, they even called me to play one of the games during singing time because they liked me SO much!”

…getting better…

“Third of all, I got to play video games when I got home from church because I was SO good!”

…yes, of course…

“And fourth of all- now this is the BEST part-

I got to have this AMAZING wave in my hair again!”

(exaggerated wave-like hand gesture, more leprechaun dancing)

This is the stuff of dreams I tell you.

The boy likes to look gooooood.

Call it what you will. I call it progress.

And, here you thought the “lazy body” remark was the sweet comeback-

didn’t you?

Every night at dinner we ask each of the kids to share one thing they learned that day.

Last night’s conversation went like this:

“Simon, did you learn anything at school today?”

…pensive pause…

“Well, technically, no.”

Maybe we’ll  just eat quietly tonight.

“Hey Knox, how much do you love me?”

…processing…

“Uh…deez many much (holding up ten fingers)…

…SOOOOOO MUCH!”

“I’ll take it!”

Because we just celebrated our 12th anniversay-

Because he loves me more now than he did 12 years ago-

Because he glows each time he thinks of our children-

Because his wisdom and patience are indefatigable-

Because he still looks at me as though I am Venus herself-

Because he humors my silly and selfish impulses, whether I am deserving or not-

Because he has allowed me to mock him mercilessly in previous posts-

Because he looks really hot in his new glasses-

Because  in my mind the word is no longer L-O-V-E, rather R-E-X-

This is for him.

“When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.”

-William Shakespeare

Something about these two pictures struck me as similar.

September, 1973

September, 2009

This is our dog-

Barnaby.

It’s a little hard to see what’s going on here because…well…he can’t really see what’s going on here.

He’s a bit of a mess.

A giant, hairy, goofy, slobbery, lovable, beautiful-

mess.

One downy white paw in the dirt- mess.

One feathery soft muzzle in a puddle- mess.

One swishing serpentine tail dragged through the mud- big, big mess.

Ah…but how we LOVE our mess!

So, today was a first for us as pet owners. We decided perhaps our mess should become somebody else’s problem.

Enter- groomers of PetSmart.

Yes, we PAID to have him bathed and brushed and snipped and styled.

And, the results were no less than spectacular!

I confess I was startled when I arrived to retrieve my mess after his day at the spa.

He resembled more of  a pompous, heavenly white show poodle than the Abominable Nepalese Snow Yeti I had come to know and love so well.

There were parts I didn’t recognize and textures I was unaware of.

It’s not like he had never been bathed and combed but this-

was…different.

Was there bleach or magic involved?

Should I take this winter-white creature of fairy tales home as my own or was it more ethical to inform the grooming staff of their accidental misplacement?

I think I’ll take him home.

Let’s take one more look at the real Barnaby:

Happily my co-conspirators supported my decision without hesitation.

It is also safe to say that the groomers of PetSmart are also now in love with our big, beautiful-

mess!