Mom Said

This is what she said when we were flipping through my English book.
“Ew look at him,” pointing to a picture of a parapalegic, “I’d rather be cyclops,” referring to an illustration we saw from The Odyssey.

“You know, not many people realize that the reason Van Gogh did all those short lines was because he had really short arms that could hardly reach the paper and he had to make them like this,” she pointed to a Van Gogh painting, “He was a tyrannosaurus rex. Wasn’t really good with children either.”

Put That Back!

The other day my dad was off from work, and was home ALL day long. Considering the weekend we had with him, it was easy to predict that it would not be a good day. He went out about noon and bought a new mailbox because our old one was sad, lonely and old, leaning up against the shrubs because it no longer stands on its own–that paired with the three broken cars parked in our driveway and the broken gutter made it appear as if we don’t give a damn about our house much less our neighborhood and are hillbillies. That’s not quite accurate. Anyway, Dad bought a new mailbox that was really spiffy, even if it’s white just like our next door neighbor’s, it now displays our street adress and looks nice. He wanted to put it up right away since he had the time, but when searching for the drill, he couldn’t find it. And then he couldn’t find a Phillip’s head screwdriver. That’s when the slamming of doors and drawers and the uttering of obscenities started. A few months ago my brother put up some shelves in my bedroom with a drill but when he came back to finish the job the drill was no where to be seen. The only other person who could have it was my sister, so mom called her and asked where it was, she wasn’t sure but she thought it was in her room.

Mom goes down there to see if she can find it, no such luck. Tries again, no such luck. Then we hear my dad go down there, no such luck. He’s stomping around and is obviously irritated. I decide to go in my bedroom to escape. At some point in the day, after about three hours of searching and swearing he somehow found a way to put up the mailbox without the drill or a Phillip’s head screwdriver. This whole episode put a damper on the day, but we learned a lesson: always put anything you borrow back–or don’t borrow it.

We Shouldn’t Need AC Now

The past several days have been unseasonably and unreasonably warm, even for the south. It’s almost December and I can’t believe it’s seventy degrees outside. For the past few weeks we’ve been using the heat off and on, but we had to turn the A/C on yesterday. Last night it was muggy in the house and I put my foot over the vent in the floor and nothing was coming out, even though there was noise. So I turn it off and back on but it doesn’t come back on. When I wake up it’s hot again and almost eighty degrees in the house. Greaaatttt.

Our fan was chewed up by my puppy so we can’t plug it in, and the only relief we have is sleeping in the underwear, cold washcloths, a tiny tabletop fan, and the promise that by Friday it will be back in the forties.