I went out to walk the dogs around 10:30 last night. As I was out, Nicole called me with a sense of urgency in her voice.
"We have a mouse in our apartment! There are all kinds of droppings in our laundry room."
Now, I'm not a sailor, but there are times where I have cursed like one. This qualified as one of those times for me, and I've come up with three reasons to justify it. So here is my list. You are allowed to curse when a mouse is in your house because:
1) A tiny animal automatically instills unjustifiable fear into your soul and you are on edge long after said rodent is gone.
2) This shrimp of a beast carries disease that it prefers to spread every step that it takes. I can't believe how much poop this thing left in my laundry room. if you ever read the book "everyone poops", a mouse poops here and there.
3) we have a roommate who is eating our food, but not paying rent.
There is so much to be said about rodents moving into your historic building, but I suppose it's to be expected. Our next expectation is to murder this thing.
Have I mentioned that we live literally a quarter mile away from the PETA headquarters? Maybe if we trap the mouse, we can drop it off there. They are, after all, known for having the highest animal euthanasia rate in Virginia.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Walking dogs and toddlers
To preface, most days I try to take the dogs on a walk in the middle of the day. They appreciate getting outside and relieving any pent-up business they have. Normally on these outings, I will put the baby in a backpack because then I don’t have to keep track of her and the two dogs. It is so much easier this way.
I was reminded today why I do this. I thought to myself, today I won’t put Michelle in a backpack. We’ll just walk around the neighborhood, and I’ll keep track of everyone. Silly me.
There’s a two word phrase I was reminded of during this walk. The first word is “cluster” and the second word isn’t “Norfolk”. I don’t know the origin of the saying, but I think it’s the best way to describe the scene. Both of my dogs weigh over 70 pounds, which isn’t huge as far as big dogs go, but they’re big enough when I need to handle both of them with one hand. Meanwhile, the child, though quite interested in walking alongside the dogs, is more interested in anything and everything else that we encounter. Hey a bug! Hey a stick! Hey a pile of dirt on the sidewalk!
Yes, those were the things she found more interesting than walking.
Half of the walk I carried her, but as she’s getting heavier herself, I was winded in this activity. So I let her walk when she was interested, I let her sit when she found something cool, and I picked her up and carried her when she was more interested in running into the road.
As for the dogs, they’re borzois. I’m not going to describe what that entails, but they are dogs known for aloof behavior, and quickly forgetting any kind of training they ever receive. Though they’ve never been the best on manners and pulling and tugging at me, they’ve recently forgotten that I’m attached to the other end of their leash. So I’ve got a toddler on one side, and two ropes pulling me on the other side. I felt like yelling “FREEEEEDOOOOOMMMM!!!” Of course, I’m referring to Braveheart, and the scene where he is tortured.
As I somehow concluded this walk, I thought to myself, “when was the last time you did this?” The answer, only one other time, which happened to be the first time I ever tried it. I recall saying to myself “I will never walk the baby and the dogs at the same time.” I was reminded today that this continues to be a bad idea. I will not make the mistake again for at least another three months.
I was reminded today why I do this. I thought to myself, today I won’t put Michelle in a backpack. We’ll just walk around the neighborhood, and I’ll keep track of everyone. Silly me.
There’s a two word phrase I was reminded of during this walk. The first word is “cluster” and the second word isn’t “Norfolk”. I don’t know the origin of the saying, but I think it’s the best way to describe the scene. Both of my dogs weigh over 70 pounds, which isn’t huge as far as big dogs go, but they’re big enough when I need to handle both of them with one hand. Meanwhile, the child, though quite interested in walking alongside the dogs, is more interested in anything and everything else that we encounter. Hey a bug! Hey a stick! Hey a pile of dirt on the sidewalk!
Yes, those were the things she found more interesting than walking.
Half of the walk I carried her, but as she’s getting heavier herself, I was winded in this activity. So I let her walk when she was interested, I let her sit when she found something cool, and I picked her up and carried her when she was more interested in running into the road.
As for the dogs, they’re borzois. I’m not going to describe what that entails, but they are dogs known for aloof behavior, and quickly forgetting any kind of training they ever receive. Though they’ve never been the best on manners and pulling and tugging at me, they’ve recently forgotten that I’m attached to the other end of their leash. So I’ve got a toddler on one side, and two ropes pulling me on the other side. I felt like yelling “FREEEEEDOOOOOMMMM!!!” Of course, I’m referring to Braveheart, and the scene where he is tortured.
As I somehow concluded this walk, I thought to myself, “when was the last time you did this?” The answer, only one other time, which happened to be the first time I ever tried it. I recall saying to myself “I will never walk the baby and the dogs at the same time.” I was reminded today that this continues to be a bad idea. I will not make the mistake again for at least another three months.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Our adventure in Philly continues
We woke up Friday morning with a beautiful sun shining bright. How lovely. It was also a brisk 40 degrees, the first time we’ve seen these temperatures in six months. Yikes!
We set out to see the town, but truly had no idea which direction to go. Our concierge saved the day. “Check out the Reading Market Terminal” she said. It was on the same block, indoors, and had all sorts of awesomeness to explore. It was perfect for a little one, with dad checking the sights out too. We went in, and the very first vendor was “Old Town Coffee”. I got myself a beautiful, strong and hot cup of joe. Yum. I then chased Michelle around for the next 20 minutes. We stopped at a Creperie, where I ate delicious French cuisine. They gave Michelle a plastic knife which she used to repeatedly stab my breakfast. It kept her busy while we ate, so I encouraged it.
After breakfast, coffee, and flirting with every single person at the market, my daughter and I decided to try and find the Liberty Bell. As it turns out, I don’t know anything about American History. The Liberty Bell obviously has some significance to America, but it took a little Wikipedia search to get a better idea of what it’s all about. If you’re ashamed of this confession, maybe do a little research yourself. I highly doubt most people have any idea the actual history of the stinking bell. Don’t judge me.
We walked the streets of Philly, slowly making out way to history. I say slowly because the child was insistent on walking as well as making friends with everyone along the way. This includes the businessmen, the tourists, the homeless people talking to themselves, and the policemen.
Socializing comes at a cost. With a block to go, Michelle lost it. It was officially nap time, she was tired and cold, and truly did not care about the historic area of Philadelphia. Oh dear.
The bad news was the hotel was the same walk we had just done, only now the baby was screaming and refusing to walk. She was also refusing to be carried. Quite a predicament. When we finally got back to the room, she got some milk, and fell asleep in about seven minutes, and stayed asleep for over three hours! Awesome.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We met up with mom to have dinner at the Hard Rock Café, which turned out to be the best place to take a loud and bouncy toddler.
I’m hopeful that tomorrow will bless me with a lovely and delicious Philly cheese steak sandwich; the one of three things I was hoping to experience while in this town. The others: see the liberty bell and get a picture in front of the Trocadero theatre. The significance being that the Trocadero is mentioned in a song by Nerfherder. “Well I met her at the Trocadero, in Philly…”
Yes, I’m super nerdy like that.
We set out to see the town, but truly had no idea which direction to go. Our concierge saved the day. “Check out the Reading Market Terminal” she said. It was on the same block, indoors, and had all sorts of awesomeness to explore. It was perfect for a little one, with dad checking the sights out too. We went in, and the very first vendor was “Old Town Coffee”. I got myself a beautiful, strong and hot cup of joe. Yum. I then chased Michelle around for the next 20 minutes. We stopped at a Creperie, where I ate delicious French cuisine. They gave Michelle a plastic knife which she used to repeatedly stab my breakfast. It kept her busy while we ate, so I encouraged it.
After breakfast, coffee, and flirting with every single person at the market, my daughter and I decided to try and find the Liberty Bell. As it turns out, I don’t know anything about American History. The Liberty Bell obviously has some significance to America, but it took a little Wikipedia search to get a better idea of what it’s all about. If you’re ashamed of this confession, maybe do a little research yourself. I highly doubt most people have any idea the actual history of the stinking bell. Don’t judge me.
We walked the streets of Philly, slowly making out way to history. I say slowly because the child was insistent on walking as well as making friends with everyone along the way. This includes the businessmen, the tourists, the homeless people talking to themselves, and the policemen.
Socializing comes at a cost. With a block to go, Michelle lost it. It was officially nap time, she was tired and cold, and truly did not care about the historic area of Philadelphia. Oh dear.
The bad news was the hotel was the same walk we had just done, only now the baby was screaming and refusing to walk. She was also refusing to be carried. Quite a predicament. When we finally got back to the room, she got some milk, and fell asleep in about seven minutes, and stayed asleep for over three hours! Awesome.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We met up with mom to have dinner at the Hard Rock Café, which turned out to be the best place to take a loud and bouncy toddler.
I’m hopeful that tomorrow will bless me with a lovely and delicious Philly cheese steak sandwich; the one of three things I was hoping to experience while in this town. The others: see the liberty bell and get a picture in front of the Trocadero theatre. The significance being that the Trocadero is mentioned in a song by Nerfherder. “Well I met her at the Trocadero, in Philly…”
Yes, I’m super nerdy like that.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Drive to Philly
We are attending a conference in Philadelphia, PA this weekend. To clarify, Nicole is attending a conference, and Michelle and I are exploring the beautiful streets of Philly. To clarify, Michelle and I are roaming the dirty streets of the city on the lookout for something beautiful.
To begin this little saga, I need to start at the beginning. Nicole and I looked at trusty ol’ google maps to see how long it would take to drive from Norfolk, VA to Philadelphia, PA. The directions said with traffic, it would take 4 ½ hours. No prob. If we left around 10AM, we would hopefully arrive around 3PM, check into the hotel, Nicole hops on the metro to get to her conference for the opening lecture at 5:30. We felt it was a pretty flawless plan.
We woke up Thursday morning, the morning we were leaving, and found that we were SO unprepared to leave. After scrambling all morning, we finally got out the door by 11:30. No problem, for the most part. Looking at google maps on Thursday told us that the drive would take us 5 ½ hours. Wait, what happened to that other hour? Okay, so maybe Nicole wouldn’t make it to the opening lecture. No problem.
We leave Norfolk, and head toward the Chesapeake Bridge. There is a toll to cross the bridge. No problem. How much could a toll bridge possibly be? We rolled up to the lady who said “$12 please.” I said, “Wow, really? Are there any more tolls on this road?” “How far are you going?” She asked. “Philadelphia.” “Yes, there are more tolls, but none are this much.” “I hope not!” I said, and then wished her a pleasant price-gouging day.
The drive we took ended up having some absolutely spectacular views. Wow, it really was a beautiful drive. We felt that the enormous fee was dedicated to making sure we had a pretty drive.
Once we entered Delaware, we needed gas. We stopped for some, but then took the wrong road to get back on the freeway, and ended up driving the wrong direction. Not a good plan for keeping a time budget. I took the first exit I could off the freeway which had a huge yellow sign that said “TOLL”. I had already committed to the exit, but was confused by the set-up. All previous tolls I’d seen had some person sitting in a booth. This one only had a little basket with a sign saying “$.25”. It all happened so fast, but I basically coasted right past it without paying. Nicole was yelling, and I was trying to find out how the heck to get back on the freeway. Anyways, we flipped a U-turn, and found our way back to the freeway where I made sure to pay my $.25 to get back on. The rest of our drive was spent researching how much it cost us for me to blow by the tollbooth. It turns out to be a $25 fine. That is a 1,000% error on my part. I can’t wait to get that one in the mail.
By the time we arrived to New Jersey, it was getting dark. We were seven hours into our drive by this point. I don’t know how it’s possible, but that seems to be how these things go. I had an indifferent impression about New Jersey. Like I said, it was dark, it started raining, and the drivers were equally bad, though now there were more of them. We blessed the state with our temporary presence, and a couple dollars in tolls, and then made our way to Philly.
Philly began with a confusing toll bridge (Benjamin Franklin would be so proud of his bridge) that cost us another $5. As Nicole navigated us through the vortex of terror, I did my best not to kill us all. However, when you’ve been driving for eight hours, and the climax of the drive is filled with old twisty three lane roads in the dark and rain, it all a sudden gets very stressful. Every once in a while Nicole would look up from her phone to see where we were, gasp, and then quickly look back down at her phone. Somehow we weaved through the spaghetti factory and made it to our hotel. Phew.
The final spectacle of the night was finding food for our daughter, whose bedtime had arrived. I don’t think we won any gold stars for parenting. We settled on Thai food that was a block away, and went back to our hotel. We decided that we’ll give Philadelphia a chance, but not at night, in the rain, in Chinatown with our one year old daughter. We’ll explore in the daylight tomorrow.
To begin this little saga, I need to start at the beginning. Nicole and I looked at trusty ol’ google maps to see how long it would take to drive from Norfolk, VA to Philadelphia, PA. The directions said with traffic, it would take 4 ½ hours. No prob. If we left around 10AM, we would hopefully arrive around 3PM, check into the hotel, Nicole hops on the metro to get to her conference for the opening lecture at 5:30. We felt it was a pretty flawless plan.
We woke up Thursday morning, the morning we were leaving, and found that we were SO unprepared to leave. After scrambling all morning, we finally got out the door by 11:30. No problem, for the most part. Looking at google maps on Thursday told us that the drive would take us 5 ½ hours. Wait, what happened to that other hour? Okay, so maybe Nicole wouldn’t make it to the opening lecture. No problem.
We leave Norfolk, and head toward the Chesapeake Bridge. There is a toll to cross the bridge. No problem. How much could a toll bridge possibly be? We rolled up to the lady who said “$12 please.” I said, “Wow, really? Are there any more tolls on this road?” “How far are you going?” She asked. “Philadelphia.” “Yes, there are more tolls, but none are this much.” “I hope not!” I said, and then wished her a pleasant price-gouging day.
The drive we took ended up having some absolutely spectacular views. Wow, it really was a beautiful drive. We felt that the enormous fee was dedicated to making sure we had a pretty drive.
Once we entered Delaware, we needed gas. We stopped for some, but then took the wrong road to get back on the freeway, and ended up driving the wrong direction. Not a good plan for keeping a time budget. I took the first exit I could off the freeway which had a huge yellow sign that said “TOLL”. I had already committed to the exit, but was confused by the set-up. All previous tolls I’d seen had some person sitting in a booth. This one only had a little basket with a sign saying “$.25”. It all happened so fast, but I basically coasted right past it without paying. Nicole was yelling, and I was trying to find out how the heck to get back on the freeway. Anyways, we flipped a U-turn, and found our way back to the freeway where I made sure to pay my $.25 to get back on. The rest of our drive was spent researching how much it cost us for me to blow by the tollbooth. It turns out to be a $25 fine. That is a 1,000% error on my part. I can’t wait to get that one in the mail.
By the time we arrived to New Jersey, it was getting dark. We were seven hours into our drive by this point. I don’t know how it’s possible, but that seems to be how these things go. I had an indifferent impression about New Jersey. Like I said, it was dark, it started raining, and the drivers were equally bad, though now there were more of them. We blessed the state with our temporary presence, and a couple dollars in tolls, and then made our way to Philly.
Philly began with a confusing toll bridge (Benjamin Franklin would be so proud of his bridge) that cost us another $5. As Nicole navigated us through the vortex of terror, I did my best not to kill us all. However, when you’ve been driving for eight hours, and the climax of the drive is filled with old twisty three lane roads in the dark and rain, it all a sudden gets very stressful. Every once in a while Nicole would look up from her phone to see where we were, gasp, and then quickly look back down at her phone. Somehow we weaved through the spaghetti factory and made it to our hotel. Phew.
The final spectacle of the night was finding food for our daughter, whose bedtime had arrived. I don’t think we won any gold stars for parenting. We settled on Thai food that was a block away, and went back to our hotel. We decided that we’ll give Philadelphia a chance, but not at night, in the rain, in Chinatown with our one year old daughter. We’ll explore in the daylight tomorrow.
Monday, October 24, 2011
I think it's mud
I think it's mud: written by Jack Spoon, inspired by events this morning.
What is this stinky stuff right here?
It’s sticky and gross and fell out of my rear.
It sticks to the bed. It smears on the walls
It leaves hand and foot prints down all the halls.
This stuff is icky. This stuff is so gross.
This stuff is squishy between all of my toes.
It’s just so yucky, and I can’t get it off me.
I tried wiping it off on all things that I see.
I used dad’s wallet, mommy’s make-up and towel,
The doggy’s tail didn’t work, I just made her howl.
The dishes didn’t work, nor the silverware
It wouldn’t come off even in dad’s hair.
Followed by screaming, I was thrown in the tub.
It finally came off with a rinse and a scrub.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t much fun
But I might do better with another one.
What is this stinky stuff right here?
It’s sticky and gross and fell out of my rear.
It sticks to the bed. It smears on the walls
It leaves hand and foot prints down all the halls.
This stuff is icky. This stuff is so gross.
This stuff is squishy between all of my toes.
It’s just so yucky, and I can’t get it off me.
I tried wiping it off on all things that I see.
I used dad’s wallet, mommy’s make-up and towel,
The doggy’s tail didn’t work, I just made her howl.
The dishes didn’t work, nor the silverware
It wouldn’t come off even in dad’s hair.
Followed by screaming, I was thrown in the tub.
It finally came off with a rinse and a scrub.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t much fun
But I might do better with another one.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dear Neighbor
Dear Neighbor:
As a self-proclaimed garden enthusiast, I wanted to share how impressed I am with the well maintained landscape you keep. The perfectly trimmed grass, and the various flowers of assorted colors make your plot a true gem to behold in our neighborhood.
Not only am I impressed with your plot of Earth, my daughter also expressed her appreciation of the plants in her own way. Yesterday, as we were admiring your garden, a flower of particular interest was, shall we say, liberated delicately from the flock. Though I grimaced at the unexpected act of vandalism, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the complimentary features it provided to my daughter’s attire.
In an act of recompense, I would like to supply you with a picture of the said combination. I do hope that this incident does not change your feelings on caring for your garden, and look forward to the vibrant colors it will possess in the future.
Highest regards,
Jack Spoon
As a self-proclaimed garden enthusiast, I wanted to share how impressed I am with the well maintained landscape you keep. The perfectly trimmed grass, and the various flowers of assorted colors make your plot a true gem to behold in our neighborhood.
Not only am I impressed with your plot of Earth, my daughter also expressed her appreciation of the plants in her own way. Yesterday, as we were admiring your garden, a flower of particular interest was, shall we say, liberated delicately from the flock. Though I grimaced at the unexpected act of vandalism, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the complimentary features it provided to my daughter’s attire.
In an act of recompense, I would like to supply you with a picture of the said combination. I do hope that this incident does not change your feelings on caring for your garden, and look forward to the vibrant colors it will possess in the future.
Highest regards,
Jack Spoon
Monday, October 17, 2011
Lunch
Set scene at dining room table. Dad and child sitting across the table facing each other.
Dad: Eat your lunch.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up food and reaches to dad, indicating he eat it)
Dad: (takes food and eats it) Now it’s your turn. Take a bite.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up piece of food and reaches to dad to repeat previous action).
Dad: No, you eat your lunch. Eat a piece.
Michelle: (scowls momentarily, then begins screaming and crying).
Dad: You are such a girl; so emotional.
Michelle: No!
Dad: Yes.
Michelle: NO! (throws remaining food and plate on floor. Hysterical screaming ensues.)
Dad: (nod)
End Scene.
Dad: Eat your lunch.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up food and reaches to dad, indicating he eat it)
Dad: (takes food and eats it) Now it’s your turn. Take a bite.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up piece of food and reaches to dad to repeat previous action).
Dad: No, you eat your lunch. Eat a piece.
Michelle: (scowls momentarily, then begins screaming and crying).
Dad: You are such a girl; so emotional.
Michelle: No!
Dad: Yes.
Michelle: NO! (throws remaining food and plate on floor. Hysterical screaming ensues.)
Dad: (nod)
End Scene.
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