Bat(ter) Up!

1 Response »
Sep 052010

The book is done. Queries are out. My house is almost, kinda, sorta clean.
So this makes for a perfect time for Buttercup to decide to get sick after a preschool tour and me end up on the couch for three hours last night wondering if I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry because of my own tummy ache, too.
Thankfully (or not) I had Billy the Exterminator to keep me company for those three hours…mainly because I didn’t feel like getting up to find the remote. This left me with plenty of time to ponder the deeper meaning behind hairspray and mullets, fashion versus practicality in the areas regarding the removal of bees while wearing enough black to guarantee getting stung way more times than anyone would consider a good time, and if Billy has his shit together when it comes to making me question my mascara.


I might be a bit behind the 8-ball here (and I usually am so don’t look surprised) to learn that the Mullet Master of Louisiana is running around in his Vexcon truck telling his camera man that bat guano has many beneficial uses in today’s society…like the streaking upon of eyelashes by modern women like myself. And I know I’m behind because when I decided I was concerned enough with the absolute maybeness of this statement to get up, turn on my netbook, and do a Google search to find out if I should kick myself or thank myself for even considering anything to be fact when uttered by someone sporting a mullet, I found out that plenty of other eyelash-owning, mascara-wearing Billy the Exterminator viewers of the female persuasion had been concerned enough to do their own investigating. Which put me in some pretty interesting company. (Go ahead...look it up on youtube. I dare you.)
Turns out, Billy is full of shit.
Kind of.
In case you give a damn, guanine is a synthetic derivative of guano (bat doo-doo) made from fish scales, which apparently is the FDA-approved way to go. So if you are a vegan or vegetarian, I’m guessing you don’t use the stuff. I, however, thoroughly enjoy the fact that I don’t have to hunt my meat to eat it, or scale my fish to make me eyes pretty.
I will, however, make sure to have the remote handy the next time I feel sick enough to watch three hours of television in a row.Then again, I got my mind of the queries.

Disclaimer: I got my research info here and here. No actual experts or mullets were contacted in the name of verification.

Story Time Saturdays: Oh, The Places You'll Go

2 Responses »
Sep 042010

She might be little, but she loves the stories that make her think. Oh, The Places You’ll Go is a classic.  

Reason 612 Buttercup will hate me when she can read

7 Responses »
Aug 312010

Don’t mess with my kid when she’s on a creative bend.

It’s business in the front.

And party in the back.

Story Times Saturdays: Olivia

No Responses »
Aug 282010

We love Olivia in our house. Buttercup may have been introduced to her on the cartoon but that’s alright. The book is a favorite…mainly because I’m pretty sure that she sees a kindred spirit in the precocious little pig. Because lemme tell ya…I can sure as heck (it’s Saturday and children are present so I have to behave) relate to her mother.

Holding court

1 Response »
Aug 242010

We bought my sister Pati a refurbished iPod for her 20th birthday last August. And because she uses my Amazon account just because it’s easier and that whole she lives with me thing, I recently began to wonder if she had replaced the now trashed iPod with a new touch model.

To be clear, I wondered for about a half second while in the process of placing my order for my Nook decal sticker thingy that BFF Mel and I spent hours on Skype discussing. I saw the iPod touch accessory in my cart, raised an eyebrow, and saved it for later while finishing up my current order, all in the same breath. And by the time I took the next one, I had already forgotten to ask Pati when she was going to tell me she had decided to spoil herself for her birthday.

“Pati got herself an iPod touch,” The Husband told me today. We were (are) in After Vacation Hell with the unpacking and the cleaning and the signing for the five boxes I had to ship myself from Detroit after barely making it to Detroit from New York at one half pound under the suitcase limit because I had given most of what I scored at BlogHer to the hotel staff before hopping in a car to LaGuardia. Turns out adding a three-year-old, a husband, and my obsessive-compulsive need to over prepare for an airplane apocalypse meant there was no way on God’s green earth that my luck was going to stretch for the last leg of the trip.  So I got to unpacking these boxes while The Husband took Buttercup to the bathroom for a potty break. I tried to ignore the fact that I probably paid more for the shipping than the swag was actually worth.

“Oh yeah!” I said, remembering the mystery item in my Amazon cart. “I was going to ask who was using my account to order accessories.”

“She had good reason,” he said as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Buttercup to do her thing on her little Dora potty seat. “I checked hers out and it just stopped working. You should mess with her when she gets home, though. She got Buttercup a night light because she killed her fish while we were away and she eases her guilty conscious with a fucking iPod?”

I snorted while sifting through boxes and decided to take a peek and see if Buttercup was done. “Yeah, exactly. You’d think it would have been the other way arou…”

I cut myself off as I ran for my phone (because unlike the rest of blogdom, I do not possess a real camera or the skills to operate one) and ran back to take a photo before the moment passed me by.

“What were you saying?” The Husband looked up from the couch as I shushed him only to be given away by the tell-tale camera click.

“Mama?” Buttercup heard it, too.

“Shit, shit, shit…” What if I hadn’t moved fast enough to…never mind. I got it.

And The Husband couldn’t stop laughing when I showed him this photo of our little princess holding court on her throne.

“You posting that on Facebook?” He asked when he could talk.

“Already done.”

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