There are two Ninjas in my bathroom. They are both sort of orange and clear and they are sitting on the counter. If I didn’t have a 9-year-old son, I would worry. “How did I get ninjas in my bathroom? Are they here to harm me? Why are they on the counter? Did I already brush my teeth?”
Tag: junior
Li’l Herb Alpert Junior
I’m scared. Really scared. Today, Junior takes his first trumpet lesson. Are you listening? Trumpet. Meaning he has to practice. In my house.
Flash back a billion years ago to the year 1976. Little Jody B went to a presentation by the music teacher about all the different band instruments available to the kids at Priest Street School. And Little Jody B chose….the trumpet. Well, I wanted to play the coronet, but the school rental instruments didn’t have one, only a slightly dinged-up trumpet. So for two years, I took trumpet lessons at school, the highlight of which was my solo performance at the annual talent show of the Carpenter’s song “Close to You.” My mom still speaks in awed tones of the brilliance of my performance, and her disappointment that we didn’t continue on with the trumpet when I moved up to junior high, because I wanted to take chorus and you couldn’t do both.
I’m still scared that a 10 year old boy will be practicing trumpet in my house. I remember what my first weeks were like 31 or so years ago. (Good Lord! 31?) It wasn’t pretty.
Green Acres – Olivah, you want hot cakes with your milk?
As you can see, Junior is attempting to milk the big fiberglass cow at Sturbridge Village. You can see it in the cow’s eyes…she’s not happy. Not happy at all. The boys, on the other hand, thought this was great. In fact, we made three trips to Ye Olde Milking Station. Bossy was full of water, and on a hot day, if you aim it juuuuust right, you can spray each other. Now that is a great way to make sure the bus loads of 9 year old boys will tell everyone they had a great time on the field trip.
I have to say, they have made a lot of improvements at Old Sturbridge Village since the last time I was there, and although I’m greatly saddened by the fact that they have apparently closed the restaurant, they are making improvements to other buildings. Do me a favor, and schedule a trip down some time this summer. I know they’ve had financial issues and I’d hate to see such a great place close. Plus you can milk a fiberglass cow.
Fake Horse Noises R Us
I sent Junior and Mr. Dump out to get some tulips for me on Saturday, to kill time while I was getting my eyes checked. (Some kind of infection, causing sight in my right eye to be blurry, making reading anything a horrific experience.) So when they came back to pick me up they had… a coconut. Oh. Okay. So no tulips, then?
On Easter Sunday, Mr. Dump and The Amazing Bob (shout out to long-time readers there, eh? That’s dump material circa 1997!) worked with my dad to get the coconut open. Then The Amazing Bob and I got all the meat out of it. (We later grated it up, put it in the oven with some powdered sugar, mixed it with melted chocolate we got by double-boiling some Hebert’s candy bars, making the worst-tasting coconut chocolate treats ever created on the face of the earth. My candy-making aspirations went down the drain, friends).
All of that hard work was so Junior could duplicate the horse galloping noises from the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail. God, I love that kid.
p.s. Oh, right, you saw tulips in Saturday’s actual blog entry, right? I had to go back out with them and buy them myself. For some reason, they never saw the big container of cut tulips.
Where Are My Ants?
Not my pants. I have those. My ants. Well, Junior’s ants, really. We sent a check to the ant company so that we can let them loose in the Ant farm he got for Christmas. He’s dying to get the ants “up and running” but with the pesky lack of ants, it’s really much less fun and exciting than the box would lead you to believe.
I know other people have ant farm web cams, but I’m really tempted to do the same. Because I’ll just best most of you regulars aren’t out watching other people’s ant farms on webcams, are you?