It’s wonderful day at Maison Bean

October 26, 2011

Papa responds to My Son and My Moon

Blah, blah and double blah. You’re giving me a song worm.

“It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood. It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood. Won’t you be mine? Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Just think—you could’ve been a writer for Mr. Rogers.

Jenny, you need to be concentrating on practical stuff.

Which reminds me—why is it whenever I am WELL for more than 48 hours, you stick me with a snotty nosed kid? Then you leave early for work. On the day in question, I decide to take the kid down to the Ladies Club so I can get some work done. But I can’t find a hair brush for Moose’s bird nest, and I CAN’T use my cell phone to call you to find out where you hid the brush because a little hand unplugged the power cord, and it doesn’t work.

After about an hour, I find a hair brush on your dressing table. Brushing Moose’s hair is like taking on rabid dog. And speaking of dogs, instead of cursing you, I decide to give both dogs a good grooming… with YOUR brush.

By then I am feeling much better, and the cell phone is charged so we head to work. Did you know these kids are so spoiled the 2-year-old won’t even drink the OJ from concentrate? I don’t get it—I grew up on this stuff.

We end up spending $5 bucks for fresh squeezed at Health Fare (they should call it Yuppy Fare or Rip City Fare). Then he decides he doesn’t really want OJ. That’s when I learn that it’s not a good idea to buy a 2-year-old hot chocolate if you want him to be presentable when he’s handing out business cards.

At the club, we pick up a few beer cans and hang up a stray g-string before taking off to give out cards. We bike the two miles to the business district and park the bike. Moose jumps off and falls in a muddle of fluff mud. His little jumper is trashed and I realize I don’t have the business cards anyway.

I know when I’ve been whipped. We go home.

We spend the rest of the day in the back yard. I sit in the sun drinking cheap OJ. Moose puts all his toys in and out of the bike trailer about 100 times. All that work tires the little pumpkin out, and my song worm is getting worse, so I go look for the vodka….


Prayers for Jenny: Jenny couldn’t write this week because Moose caught the nasty evil stomach bug, and she had to wash all of the sheets, blankets and towels in Maison Bean. Then someone assaulted her electromagnetic field, which is a fancy way of saying her space was invaded. She’s also been having nightmares about bedbugs, and she has a bruised eyebrow from an unfortunate Moose encounter.

Soccer Beans: Frustrated at practice last week because they couldn’t get the ball away from him, Jax’s teammates finally tackled him.

Jenny: Who tackled you?

Jax: Oscar.

Jenny: Who is Oscar.

Jax: You know, Mommy. That boy that’s handsome like me.



{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Irene October 26, 2011 at 8:08 am

LMAO! Papa needs his own blog. Between the two of you, my mornings would be so much more fun!

So now I have Mr. Rogers stuck in my head. Thanks Papa.

Jenn October 26, 2011 at 9:53 am

Sorry, Irene. If Papa is miserable, he spreads it around. We try to keep him happy.

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