FUNNY THINGS I SAW TODAY

One of the first things a young boy wants to learn to do--once he learns he is "a man"--is to learn to spit. Have you ever seen a youngster trying to spit? There is no way I could describe it, spit dribbling off the chin, and all. But soon, too soon. they have mastered the skill and, it seems, it never departs.

As evidenced by the retired gentleman I watched today. He shuffled to the mail box. It took a while. Just before he got there--I was now thinking of him as a dear old soul--he spit. So much for the dear old soul, bit. Wow, could that old feller spit.

We drove to Salt Lake today and on the freeway we passed a plumbing van. I was bored and so read all the things written on the back. Just as it got interesting and I was reaching for my camera he took an exit. Here's what it said: "Courteous, Clean, No surprises. We wear belts. Cash back if you see a crack."

This is on my cookbook blog tonight. It was very tasty. Everyone at dinner pronounced it good. And if you are into food storage, most of the ingredients are things you can have in your pantry/basement/bomb shelter or under the bed. Where is your food storage kept?

Mexican Casserole.

PS I couldn't do without tweezers. I explained in the Mexican Casserole post. It is one of the four things I hate about growing old:

1. A turkey gobbler neck

2. Eye Boogers (Do you remember that comic strip in Bloom County where they called Eye Boogers "the great social equalizer?" One of the characters--was it Opus?--said, "even the Pope has them."

3. Dirty eye glasses

4. And chin hairs.

But I should have added #5. Bat wings. Every woman over the age of forty knows what I mean. If you know a remedy please let me know. I could probably sail a good distance.

THE SEWER SNAKE

Eight-years-old Brown Dot didn’t like to brush his teeth. In order to make the process less painful he devised an interesting way to dispose of the toothpaste foam. He would crank his head upside down and spit it down the overflow hole in the sink.

I was afraid there would be foam-buildup and that if the sink ever started to overflow there would be no place for the water to go. The possibility that we would have a real mess in the bathroom was a worry so I asked him not to spit there. I asked nicely.

He continued to spit down the overflow hole.

The next day I reasoned with him, telling him why he shouldn’t spit down the overflow hole. I was sure that if he had more information he would be cooperative.

He continued to spit down the overflow hole.

A few days later I resorted to using a firm voice. An authoritative voice—a mother’s “I mean business,” voice.

Maybe he didn’t know I meant business. Maybe he didn't care because he continued to spit down the overflow hole.

Then I told him it was a stupid thing to do.

He didn't care that it was a stupid thing to do. He liked it.

The next week I demanded that he not spit down the overflow hole.

He ignored my demands.

From then on I told him, in no uncertain terms not to spit down the overflow hole. I told him, “I’m not kidding.”

He did not care that I wasn’t kidding. He still spit.

I threatened. Daily.

He ignored my threats. He continued to spit down the overflow hole.

I finally pleaded, the second to last resort of a desperate mother. Surely he would take pity on a pleading mother.

He had no pity—he was dedicated to spitting down the overflow hole. This boy was nothing if not dedicated.

As a very last resort I used reverse psychology. I was clever. He would never recognize my ploy. He would stop spitting down the overflow hole. I was sure of it.

He overcame my cleverness and continued to spit down the overflow hole.

And then, one day, Phil passed the bathroom door at the exact second The Brown Dot was spitting a mouthful of foam down the overflow hole. “The sewer snake is going to come out of there,” Phil said, “and bite your lips off.”

The overflow hole became instantly, and forever more, spit-less.

IT'S WEDNESDAY AND I RECEIVED A WEDNESDAY GIFT

Years ago, I started a tradition of giving my girls Wednesday gifts. Things that weren't big, just something fun or cute or useful, maybe even something as little as a heat resistant spatula for the kitchen or a lip gloss. I called them Wednesday gifts because for some reason the first few happened to be purchased or given on a Wednesday. They didn't get a gift every Wednesday or even one Wednesday a month, just whenever.

My girls have even given me Wednesday gifts. What fun for me. And today, my neighbor, Cindy, gave me a Wednesday gift. The cutest Santa you ever saw. (I MUST learn how to post pictures.) Plus a book. How lucky am I? Not that getting gifts is lucky but having Cindy for a friend, who know exactly what would surprise and please me and then making sure it came on a Wednesday--that's lucky. I have such a good friend, within spitting distance, (that is if I spit or if she did. I don't. Well, not when anyone is looking and I'm pretty sure she doesn't spit, even if nobody ever looked. She's that kind of non-spitting girl.)

Anyway, I have lots of Wednesday friends, people who give to me just because. They send me emails. How I love emails. They call me on the phone. They stop by. That has got to be my favorite kind of a friend, the stopping-by ones. People that know they are welcome at any hour of the day or night. They stop by just because. Last Christmas two friends stopped by, one because I had said in an email that I was in a major meltdown and the other one just knew something was wrong. I'm sure it was the whispering of the Holy Ghost that told her I needed her. They both held my hands and told me everything would be all right. They were both here at the same time and I will never forget that day and my two good friends if I live to be one hundred.

Come to think of it, as I read other people's blogs, look at their photographs, glimpse into their lives, laugh or are awed by the tough things they go through, the loneliness, the illness, the worry over children or other family members and all those things are a gift to me, on a Wednesday or any other day. I see strength that I want in my own life, I see compassion and I see humor. There are some incredible funny people out there. Some can make me laugh with one line, others have me laughing paragraph after paragraph.

Many gifts for me today. This Wednesday. Thank you, my dear friend, Cindy and my other friends. Seen and unseen. Those of you within spitting distance and those from the nether parts. I wish I had a Wednesday gift for each of you but since I don't please know that I appreciate you and wish you well, this Wednesday.