Friday, September 17, 2010
Did you know http://www.growafrog.com/ existed? I did not. But when a friend of mine asked if someone in my family might like an African water frog who was raised from a tadpole ordered from this place, I soon discovered that you truly can find joy on the internet. Since nothing could be more ill-mannered than our dog or a grumpy first-grader, a frog doesn't seem likely to cause much of a stir. Needless to say, the seven year old is THRILLED and monitors those who watch him closely. Proclaiming, "He's mine!" means you have spent too much time in front of the tank. It's an odd little webbed-footed friend who's major selling points included the price- free- and was an amphibian thus high on the list of things desired by a seven year old boy. Surprisingly agile, Bullseye's life expectancy is 35 years but we all know we dropped that by 10 when he crossed our doorstep. The anticipation in the acquisition of this frog was so high it was nearly unbearable, but the minute our Knopp Valley elves pulled into our driveway and revealed the bucket transporting our new friend all was right in the universe. When he was released into the tank...it was Christmas and birthday all rolled into one. I am sure that Grow-a-Frog could never have anticipated the joy they would create. Or maybe they did, and I need to stop bashing my own dreams. Truly, anything is possible.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Ben has quite an imagination and it can prevent him from sleep. He woke up at 2:00 a.m asking for me. I went in and he started complaining about some creatures invading his safety shield and then after a pause he asked, " How long is this night gonna be?"
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
I often see families out and about looking just like advertisements for travel brochures-everyone bicyling happily or walking along the lake with smiles and laughter. Just like a pre-teen looking at her first Seventeen magazine, I'd think, "Why can't this be me?" It always seems like any outing no matter how small becomes a big production of dramatic "I don't want to go" or "Do we have to?" protests. In less than sixty seconds you become your own mother clenching her teeth chirping unconvincingly, "You will come and you will have fun!" Once out and about someone forgets their water bottle (I look back and think that I must have spent my childhood dehydrated because I do not recall the obsession with water bottles when I was a kid-is that what was wrong with me all those years?), someone has to pee miles from a bathroom, someone is being attacked by flies, someone wisely becomes pokey or incredibly efficient to remove themselves from the bad group karma (him), and someone glumly trudges along wondering when she will learn that most of her great family friendly ideas are bad (her). What saves everyone is some lame attempts at humor which eventually become real enough that people forget when the mood turned and it no longer seems like the project that it was. "Can we do that again?" requests are met with silence. Then you slowly nod your head because of course, you will forget all the bad parts and you will do it again and it will likely be your idea.