Why I Want Educated Kids

So they can make jokes like this:

Sometimes I Wake Up Laughing

Especially when I watch something like this first thing...

Presents

My younger son has decided to make his older brother a present every day when he gets home from Kindergarten. Usually it's something clever and small, like a homemade coloring book, or a rocket made from a toilet paper roll, but today he reached a new height in gift-giving.

First, some background. My husband brings his 8th grade class to Mexico to do service work in an orphanage every spring. He usually brings back tasty Mexican candies for the boys when he returns. Several years ago he brought back lollipops that had an actual, dead scorpion encased in the sugary coating.

This was the inspiration for today's gift. Segundus found a small jar and searched out a suitable spider outside. Then, with parental assistance, asphyxiated said spider with several cotton balls soaked in fingernail paint remover. Then we mixed up a tasty concoction of orange juice, bananas, and sugar. Then we put the dead spider in a paper cup, filled it with juice, stuck a stick in it, and froze it. When big brother came home, he was welcomed with an officially original dead-spider popsicle. He did devour it and was proud of the fact that he's pretty sure one of the legs is stuck in the back of his throat.

Dora the Explorer

Raising 21st Century Children

So the conversation in the car yesterday with my 6-year-old...

L: Mama, I wish my brain was a computer, then I would know everything.

Me: (after laughing) Are you really sure that computers know everything?

L: Yes! If you don't know something, you just put it in the computer, and the computer answers it for you!

Me: Uh-oh.

Thought for the Day

What worries me is that smart people can get smarter with the internet, ‘cause they can tell reliable sites from those that are not. But for the dumb people… I think the internet is just making them dumber and dumber.

--Brian Regan

Maybe He'll Work for the Health Department Some Day

Here's an interesting conversation I had today with my 5-year-old while he was eating a hot dog for lunch.

L: Mama, Papa told me what hot dogs are made of.
Me: Oh yeah? What did he say?
L: It's intestines. It's pig intestines. I didn't know that it was made of intestines.
Me: Is that gross?
L: Yeah.
Me: Are you still going to eat it?
L: Yeah, because it tastes good with ketchup on it.

I Didn't Watch the Superbowl, but I Do Watch Commercials

This is funny.

Hard Times for Satarists

Although we live in hard times for satarists, where nearly everything they tease actually exists somewhere, it seems like those at The Onion are still surviving all right. This is hilarious. And frighteningly true.

In The Know: Should The Government Stop Dumping Money Into A Giant Hole?

Stories About Idaho, Part 3

Once upon a time there was a good ol' boy local legislator who had been in office for years. There was an election coming up and a doctor from Nampa (just west of Boise) decided to challenge him. Everyone was excited as this guy was a self-proclaimed reformer who was tired of the incumbent's wastefulness and wanted to take him on. He quickly gained a following and locals were getting excited about an election that was usually pretty routine.

The challenger was invited to do an interview for a local TV station to define his political platform. He started out pretty normal, talking about how pork needed cutting and taxes needed dropping, but then something strange happened. As he started talking he started loosening his tie. Then he unbuttoned his shirt. At this point the TV reporter started squirming. Then he started taking off his dress shirt. At this point the TV reporter stopped asking questions. When he started pulling off his undershirt the TV station cut to a commercial.

Once the initial confusion wore off it turned out this political reformer was nothing but an escapee of the local insane asylum. He was not, nor had ever been a doctor, and the asylum authorities had been searching for him for about six months.

And that's what Idaho is like.

Stories About Idaho, Part 2

Once upon a time I had a contest with a boy in my class about how hick our families were. I told him that my relatives always compared hunting stories and how often they had shot each other in the foot.

He told me about his grandmother who chewed tobacco in the summer. When she was done with it, she didn't spit it out, but she put it on the fencepost outside to dry. When the weather got cold she took that same wad of tobacco from the fencepost and smoked it in her pipe. She saved the dregs from the pipe and chewed them in the summer, drying them on the fencepost....and on it goes. In fact she had not bought new tobacco in something like ten years. He won the contest.

This is what Idaho is like.

Stories About Idaho

Once upon a time I had a friend from one of the smallest towns in Idaho. As she put it, the town was so small that you had to know, in detail, who you were related to so you didn't accidentally date them.

Her uncle was a high school rodeo champion and had won multiple massively-large belt buckles as prizes. He wore these with pride on his belt, for years and years. Eventually his beer belly got so big that the belt buckles rubbed into his stomach. Instead of finding a more suitable belt buckle, he just got his chainsaw, cut the belt buckles straight through the middle, and kept wearing them.

And that's what Idaho is like.

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!

I Love This

I know this is old and made the Facebook rounds about four months ago, but I love it. I was thinking about it today when I used my credit card--which I hate doing. I also think about it every time I get frustrated at slow internet connections.

"All the Glory to God and the Calories to Us!"

Quote of the week by Nan Devine, chef and hostess extraordinaire after serving up a marvelous Father's Day feast. I asked her if I could keep her quote forever!

25 Random Things about my Betta Fish

This is dedicated to all of those acquiring "first pets" for their young children.

1.  WHAT IS YOUR BETTA FISH'S NAME? Wall-E.

2.  WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BETTA FISH? Kind of bluish-purple/black

3.  WHAT DOES YOUR BETTA FISH DO FOR FUN? Lies on the bottom of its tank.

4.  RIGHT NOW, WHAT COLOR IS THE WATER IN ITS TANK? Milky green.

5.  IS IT MALE OR FEMALE, OR DO YOU NOT KNOW? Female, we know because the pet store man said so.

6.  WHAT IS YOUR BETTA FISH'S FAVORITE SWIMMING POSITION? Motionless.

7.  HOW OLD IS YOUR BETTA FISH? A few months?

8.  WHAT COLOR IS THE GRAVEL IN THE TANK? Blue.

9.  HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR BETTA FISH EAT?  Once every few days.

10.  HOW LONG DO YOU THINK YOUR BETTA FISH CAN GO WITHOUT EATING?  Really long, maybe a week?  After a couple of days she starts eating air and making herself float.  "Oh no!  Wall-E's floating!!  When was the last time we fed her?"

11.  WHO BOUGHT YOUR BETTA FISH?  My 3-year-old son.

12.  HOW LONG HAVE YOU EVER MADE YOUR BETTA FISH GO WITHOUT EATING?  2-3 days.

13.  WHEN DID YOU GET YOUR BETTA FISH?  A few months ago?

14.  WHAT TALENTS DOES YOUR BETTA FISH HAVE?  She can go for days facing straight up towards the top of the bowl, tail down.

15.  WHAT TRICKS CAN YOUR BETTA FISH DO?  Swim.

16.  WHO FEEDS YOUR BETTA FISH?  I do.

17.  HOW LONG DO YOU THINK/HOPE YOUR BETTA FISH WILL LIVE?  Long enough to have a good life.

18.  HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU THOUGHT YOUR BETTA FISH WAS DEAD?  Too many to count.

19.  HAVE YOU EVER NEARLY FLUSHED YOUR BETTA FISH DOWN THE TOILET, BUT AT THE LAST MOMENT HE/SHE SHOWED YOU THAT HE/SHE'S STILL ALIVE?  Yes.

20.  HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU DONE #19? At least once.

21.  DO YOU EVER WONDER HOW A BETTA FISH EVER SURVIVED IN THE WILD?  Every day.

22.  WHAT KIND OF FOOD HAVE YOU FED YOUR BETTA FISH?  Fish food, Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas dinner, stuffing, chocolate cake.

23.  IF YOU FEED YOUR BETTA FISH NORMAL FISH FOOD, HOW MANY GRANULES DOES HE/SHE EAT PER DAY?  4 if she's really hungry.

24.  WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR BETTA FISH THINKS ABOUT?  The meaning of life--no really I think she thinks about....hmmmm......I know!  "Now it's light.  Now it's dark.  Now it's light again..."

25.  WOULD YOU EVER BUY ANOTHER BETTA FISH JUST TO SEE IF THEY REALLY WOULD BITE EACH OTHERS' HEADS OFF?  Yes.

My Husband Rolled His Eyes....

I'm glad that there are people out there with enough time on their hands to produce their own versions of the classics:

Classical Camelot

Classical Maritime Adventure

Classical Oratorio

Simple Things for Simple Minds

Excerpts from a Dog's Diary

8:00 am - Dog food!  My favorite thing!

9:30 am - A car ride!  My favorite thing!

9:40 am - A walk in the park!  My favorite thing!

10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted!  My favorite thing!

12:00 pm - Lunch!  My favorite thing!

1:00 pm - Played in the yard!  My favorite thing!

3:00 pm - Wagged my tail!  My favorite thing!

5:00 pm - Milk Bones!  My favorite thing!

7:00 pm - Got to play ball!  My favorite thing!

11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed!  My favorite thing!

Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary...

Day 983 of my captivity...

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.  They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.  Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.  The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.  In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.  Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet.  I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of.  However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.  Jerks.  There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight.  I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.  However, I could hear the noises and smell the food.  I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies."  I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking.  I must try this again tomorrow--but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.  The dog receives special privileges.  He is regularly released--and seems to be more than willing to return.  He is obviously retarded.  The bird has got to be an informant.  I observe him communicating with the guards regularly.  I am certain that he reports my every move.  My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.

For now...