Nothing much; just life, liberty and the pursuit of piffle.
Labels: The Small-Handed Ones
posted by Diana at 9:06 PM
I am probably a closet reactionary masquerading as an easy going push-over. Growing up, I went to a Christian Science church and became a doctor. I no longer affiliate myself with any religion for many reasons, one of which is not wanting to give up any of my weekend. I was raised in the Air Force and am now staunchly liberal and hate to move. I do love to fly, however, something my husband will never understand. I can keep a secret. I will never give another speech. I kiss my dog on the mouth but not for an hour after I see her eat a bug. I value comfort over style and rarely change my appearance. I believe passionately in fighting sexism and racism. I have a long attention span and truly love my job. I tend to like most people I meet. I am very shy. But can fake the whole outgoing thing when wearing my professional persona. I hate calling people on the phone. I love e-mail. I run 15-20 miles a week so I can eat the food I like. I met my husband my 1st week of college. I had never expected to marry someone as I never thought I would find someone to put up with me and my career choice. We've been together 23 years. Guess there is someone for everyone.
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16 Comments:
Um, at least she ASKED. You must be doing something right, eh? :-)
At least she asked...
We're apparently like a collective typhoid Mary. Some strange, foreign pathogen brought in by the kids from the big city is to blame for the sniffles, no doubt.
Now I feel guilty.
Cagey- Yes. I'll hold onto that bit of good.
Teri- Sorry. Can't blame the big-city germs. She was sad because I wouldn't interrupt what I was doing (we were all curled up watching a movie together) and go look for a bottle for her doll. They were guilt-tears that didn't work.
And this from one who used to hurl on my clean uniform first thing in the morning--and smile afterwards.
Poor abused Dad
What kind of question is that?
Could she possibly in a million years have thought that the answer would be, "Sure, go right ahead!"?
Dad- So, this is payback of a sort? Figures.
Rozanne- As if, indeed! Guess that's what she sees me as: A giant hankie. She seemed quite surprised to be sent off to find an appropriate recepticle for her snot.
You can still be mother of the year- this isn't a disqualifier. I agree with the other posts, at least she asked. Allie used run up and grab my shirt and wipe her nose, mouth, hands, whatever. I was a big hankie/washcloth. No one tells you what little savages the can be...
Oh, see here I was thinking that you were saying you weren't mother of the year material because you didn't let her use your shirt and I was really confused as to how that would make you a good mother. Glad that's been cleared up. I think you're a great mom. I want you to be my mom.
see, I never ask my mom that question. I just do it.
I especially love blowing my nose in her new blouses and shirts.
kidding! I never actually blow my nose. I just pretend to do it. drives her nuts!
have a good week!
Maybe I shouldn't reveal this but here goes....one time Lauren had a runny nose that needed to be wiped fast. So, I looked over at the pile of dirty laundry next to her changing table and grabbed a pajama top and wiped her nose. My logic was that it was going to be washed and was already dirty anyway....well, she FREAKED on me, so I won't do it again! No Mother-of-the-Year here either! But like Cagey and Teri said, at least Sara asked first!
hehehe.....
I think my boys would probably have used their socks rather than walk all the way to the bathroom for a tissue.
Stace- Little savages, indeed! I don't won a stitch that can't be tossed in the washer.
Dana- Hey, there, Missy! I thought we had established that I WAS your mother. Go clean your room.
Amy- *snicker, snicker, snicker* Your poor long-suffering mother.
Colleen- Oh, I've done that so many times. PJ tops make fine hankies. So do t-shirts. Maybe that's where I went wrong?
Listie- Hah! Do you think they'd take the socks off first? If so, would they return them to their feet? Nah. At least not in our house. They'd just leave them balled up for their mother to find and throw back at them.
Godddddddd!! I keep coming back in the hopes of thinking of a boogie story, but no!! I draw a blank!! So!! Instead I shall leave a bit of wisdom imparted on me when I was but a youth:
You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can't wipe your friends on the side of the couch'
Hey, I didn't say it'd be original. And I never promised you a rose garden :P
You know, I think the denial makes you the "real-life, real-smart Mother of the Year." Good choice.
I'm just impressed that you and Sarah have such a close relationship that she feels comfortable in asking to use your shirt for such purposes....Impressive!!!!
Babs- You? No boogie story? I'm shocked. Shocked! Although, that's a permutation of the 'pick yer nose' saying that I'd not heard, so consider yourself redeemed in any case.
Beth- Yeah. I thought that was an easy call. Bleh.
Christie- I'm sure you and Conner have such a relationship, too. And for that, I wish you patience and vodka.
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