Archive | June, 2010

But this was weird…

30 Jun

So, I know I got a little mushy about the American Girl doll store.

But let’s not overlook the freak factor, m’kay?

It is very weird to have serious hairstylists working on a whole row of dolls.

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Pretty In Pink

28 Jun

For the most part, I’ve gotten off pretty easy on the girlie-girl scale.

A Blue’s Clues obsession trumped any interest in the Disney princesses, followed by Scooby Doo in lieu of Bratz Dolls. Of course, at her first-grade party, she invited the whole class and ended up with enough Barbies to field a Dallas Cowboy’s Cheerleading Squad.

They mostly stayed stuffed in a drawer until a few years later, when a friend was spending the night. During an unsupervised time when I thought the girls were sleeping, the two of them gave all the Barbies insane asylum buzz cuts and colored their faces zombie green. Continue reading

A Cleanup in 3 Acts

18 Jun

ACT 1

Scene: The living room. Boy, 10-ish, being confronted about the state of his room.

Characters:  Messy Boy, Frustrated Mom

Mom: Your room is a disaster. Legos are all over the floor, and overflowing toxic waste fumes are coming from your closet which has apparently become the site of a laundry-hoarding cover-up of some kind.  Additionally, I see hidden behind your curtain a cup from Sonic with the top off, and I can see furry greenish-blue feathery fingers of mold creeping over the edge of the cup. They appear to be preparing to  get ready to grab and eat the dog.

Boy: And your point is?

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Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

15 Jun

This isn’t easy to say. Maybe the internet isn’t the place for it.

But I don’t think this relationship is going to last.

I know, I’m as shocked as you are. We’ve been together for a long time, our families are friends. And when we first met, you were a faithful friend, there anytime I needed to pick up the phone. Night or day, didn’t matter. You were there.

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Squirrel Talk

10 Jun

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

They just let the dogs out and I can’t get out of the yard fast enough.

What am I going to do? Whoever said “White Dogs Can’t Jump” never saw the Jack Russell terrier that lives here.

I am so dead.

All the nuts I could have eaten, all the birdseed I could have stolen. My life flashing before my beady little eyes. Why me?

*whispers* “Rosebud…”

Wait, maybe if I stay perfectly still and pretend I am part of the tree, they won’t see me.

This could work. They’re sniffing, but not looking up.

It is working! I am going to LIVE! LIVE, I say!

Suck it. dogs.

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