Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Crushing my ego...again
As I was blow-drying my hair one morning, Nina walks into the bathroom, wrinkles her nose and says, "Smells like...poop...and bum. I think it's you."
Nina's beach day
Nina's preschool class was learning about all things beachy and aquatic. I missed the flashing neon sign about "dress up beach day," so a disappointed Nina entered the classroom in her usual school clothes.
Not one to miss a dress-up occasion, she declared the following Monday another Beach Day. I explained that it actually wasn't beach day and she'd be the only one dressed up. "No," she said, "I need to wear a bathing suit."
This was a day for me to choose my battles. It was 30 degrees -- maybe -- so I said she at least had to wear pants and a sweatshirt over the suit. She acquiesced and promptly put on flip flops and headed out the door. I packed some tennis shoes, socks, a heavy coat and gloves and we headed to school.
I, of course, knew that it wasn't Beach Day, but it seemed to be news to Nina when she entered her classroom. She shyly walked back to me, head hanging low, and said, "No one else has a bathing suit on."
"I know," I said. "I tried to tell you." She looked back in the classroom, then back at me and asked, "Can I take my pants off now?"
Huh?
Her moment of mortification had passed. She was ready to rock the bathing suit.
So there's my Nina, marching into class wearing only a hot pink bikini, a sun hat, and flip flops. She sat next to a kid wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, but she didn't give a damn.
Not one to miss a dress-up occasion, she declared the following Monday another Beach Day. I explained that it actually wasn't beach day and she'd be the only one dressed up. "No," she said, "I need to wear a bathing suit."
This was a day for me to choose my battles. It was 30 degrees -- maybe -- so I said she at least had to wear pants and a sweatshirt over the suit. She acquiesced and promptly put on flip flops and headed out the door. I packed some tennis shoes, socks, a heavy coat and gloves and we headed to school.
I, of course, knew that it wasn't Beach Day, but it seemed to be news to Nina when she entered her classroom. She shyly walked back to me, head hanging low, and said, "No one else has a bathing suit on."
"I know," I said. "I tried to tell you." She looked back in the classroom, then back at me and asked, "Can I take my pants off now?"
Huh?
Her moment of mortification had passed. She was ready to rock the bathing suit.
So there's my Nina, marching into class wearing only a hot pink bikini, a sun hat, and flip flops. She sat next to a kid wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, but she didn't give a damn.
Well, that was awkward
After a quick trip to the DMV (no joke - half an hour!), I decided to drop in on a good friend. The receptionist greeted me and asked who I was there to see. The rest of the conversation just got downright awkward.
Me: Mike Denslow.
Receptionist (hereto after referred to as "R"): He's on the phone. Can I tell him who's here?
Me: Oh, that's ok, I'll just contact him later.
R: He should be just a minute. I'll email him. What's your name?
Me: Tell him Dick Trickle is here.
R: (confused face, fingers poised on keyboard) I'm sorry, who?
Me: Dick Trickle (smiling)
R: (still confused) How do you spell that?
Me: (just realized someone was in waiting area and didn't want to sound inappropriate) Oh, just how it sounds. (wink)
R: I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult, I really don't know how to spell it.
Me: (starting to sweat) It's fine. You can just tell him it's Andrea.
R: I'm really not trying to be difficult.
Me: No, no, totally fine. I don't want to repeat the name with (pointing discreetly over my shoulder) someone in the room. It was just a joke.
R: Oh, an inside joke, huh?
Me: Yeah...it's just a funny name of a racecar driver.
R: (still missing point) Oh, I don't watch racecar driving.
Me: Me neither. It was just a joke.
And then I walk away and bury myself in my blackberry...dear. god. Last time I try that funny business.
Me: Mike Denslow.
Receptionist (hereto after referred to as "R"): He's on the phone. Can I tell him who's here?
Me: Oh, that's ok, I'll just contact him later.
R: He should be just a minute. I'll email him. What's your name?
Me: Tell him Dick Trickle is here.
R: (confused face, fingers poised on keyboard) I'm sorry, who?
Me: Dick Trickle (smiling)
R: (still confused) How do you spell that?
Me: (just realized someone was in waiting area and didn't want to sound inappropriate) Oh, just how it sounds. (wink)
R: I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult, I really don't know how to spell it.
Me: (starting to sweat) It's fine. You can just tell him it's Andrea.
R: I'm really not trying to be difficult.
Me: No, no, totally fine. I don't want to repeat the name with (pointing discreetly over my shoulder) someone in the room. It was just a joke.
R: Oh, an inside joke, huh?
Me: Yeah...it's just a funny name of a racecar driver.
R: (still missing point) Oh, I don't watch racecar driving.
Me: Me neither. It was just a joke.
And then I walk away and bury myself in my blackberry...dear. god. Last time I try that funny business.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Groundhog Day
Nina's learning about Groundhog Day. She comes home from school and says, "So, Mom, we're learning about Groundhog Day. You can learn more about it by going on-line to dot com. You can look up pictures and find out if he saw his shadow."
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