Friday, September 11, 2009

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Sometimes, like today, when we have no major plans and I know that I'm probably not going out (other than the driving lesson I gave Anne-with-an-e today), I deliberately put on a shirt that already has a stain on it. Because I just know that I'm going to spill something.  Yup. Just added a new tomato sauce stain to this pink shirt.  Atticus says he finds my klutziness endearing but I think he just says that because he's, you know, my spouse of twenty-five years.


Yesterday at the park when I watched my 20-month old godson cry pitifully about a tumble he'd taken, and I thought back to how seven-year-old Ramona had earlier needed a kiss on a not-even-visible-scrape in order to wipe away a frown, I thought about how roughly 80% of growing up is just learning how to be quiet and stop whining.  Most of us are still working on that.


Last week I had a minor psychotic episode during which I thought for certain that we had a bat living somewhere in our back patio.  We probably do, though I'm no longer psychotic about it.  Friends like Theresa assure me that bats are a blessing, and friends like Jennifer are jealous because surely our bat is keeping mosquitos at bay while friends like Lissa think it's cool, unschooly science. All I really cared about was making sure that we didn't have a bat colony living in our attic, a la Dave Barry (and thanks to Jenn again for that reference, which made me laugh in the midst of freaking out.) Atticus assuaged my fears with fearless attic investigation.

The joys of home ownership are without number.



Lissa said...

I dunno, when we owned a home I found it involved a LOT of numbers. The plumber's number, the roofer's number, the dishwasher repairman's number, the pizza parlor's number...oh wait, that last one applies to renters as well.


LOL on 80% of growing up is learning to stop could put that on a bumper sticker at CafePress and make, um, a number of pennies.

The Bookworm said...

I reckon you are right about that 80% rule. I had never thought of it before, but eldest DD is very definitely not a whiner and I'm always amazed by her maturity (far and away greater than mine at the same age!). Middle DD, on the other hand, is a mistress of the art of whining ... a long way to go there!

House of Brungardt said...

Karen, I had to laugh about the shirt/stain thing, because I am the same way!