How to Have a Weird Day

It's Sunday, but I have on my Wednesday undies. This cannot be good.

Hiya, Friends!

Hey, have ya ever heard of day-of-the-week undies?  Don't be precious.  Of COURSE ya have.  I betchyoo've even worn a pair or two in your day.  They're kind of a cultural icon.

Well, I've noticed something about day-of-the-week undies.  I've noticed that if you're careful when you pick 'em out in the morning, and make sure the day that is spelled on the undies matches up with the day it actually is, a day just goes so smoothly.  It's like the day has a golden glow of good luck around it.  It's pretty much impossible to go wrong on a day when your day-of-the-week undies match up with the day on the calendar!

On the other hand, if ya just grab whatever day-of-the-week undies you touch first in the drawer in the morning, and it doesn't match what day it really is, that's a good way to make sure the day just goes... well, weird.  I have noticed that I am eighty-two percent more awkward in my interactions with others when I don't take care to match my day-of-the-week undies to the day of the week.  In addition, on those days, I find that I am at least forty-eight percent more clumsy. 

The statistics don't lie, Friends.  Even though nobody sees my day-of-the-week undies, I know when they're on the correct day of the week and when they're not.  It's one of those unseen things that really makes a difference in the way a day goes. 

Anyways, it's Sunday, but I put on my Wednesday undies this morning, for some inexplicable reason.  I just told my best pal Rozzie a joke that she usually laughs at, every time I tell it.  Today, she just looked at me blankly and then nudged me out of her way with her snout, and I fell on my hiney-butt.  In one interaction, there was the increased awkwardness and clumsiness. 

I don't have high hopes for the rest of this day.

But I do hope you have a good day, Friends!  I love ya lots!  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

Happy Health Fair!

Laughter really is the best medicine.

Hiya, Big People!  Happy Saturday to you!

Well, ya know, recently, I attended an Expo for practitioners of Humorous Healing.  It was a Happy Health Fair, if you will.  I had a booth and represented St. Laffalotatus- Mercy-Mercy Hospital.

I think I did a really good job.  I did a few simple non-surgical Spirit Lifts, right there on the expo floor.  That was a real show stopper.  Not that there was any competition going on, but it DID make those laugh-jocks from Mirthwood MediPlex look like amateurs, with their little joy-buzzers and whoopie cushions.  They think they're so hot, just because they have a cool-soundin' name, but I'll tell ya what those Mirthwood jokers are- they're corporate practitioners of Humorous Healing!  Their MediPlex is all about the assembly-line spirit lift.  That isn't how we do things at St. Laffalotatus- Mercy-Mercy Hospital, I'll tell ya what.  Each patient is a person, treated with dignity, respect, and zany wit at St. Laffalotatus- Mercy Mercy Hospital.

But seriously, we're all on the same team, all of us practitioners of Humorous Healing.  We wanna lift people's spirits.  We wanna light their darkness.  We want to help 'em get their sad-blue-colored glasses off.  The smart money goes to St. Laffalotatus- Mercy-Mercy Hospital.  We're just the best.  That's all I'm saying.

Anyway, the thing we all agreed on at the Happy Health Fair is that laughter is truly the best medicine.  Unless you have a bacterial infection.  In that case, antibiotics are truly the best medicine.  You heard it from me, right here, Friends!  I love ya lots!  Laugh today!  Muah!

Boots and Cats

You haven't heard beatboxing until you've heard it from Siri.  Or Zoe.

Friends, have you ever heard of Siri? 

If not, Siri's the digital assistant that lives in the dang ol' iPhone.  She's pretty cool.  She tells me everything I ever wanted to know, like where the nearest gas station is, where I can buy the best pizza near me, or why dividing zero by zero makes Cookie Monster sad.

But maybe the coolest thing Siri has ever taught me is how to beatbox.  You know, making stylized sounds of percussion instruments that you do with just your own mouth.  You've heard it!

Anyway, Siri taught me a really cool beatbox, and it goes like this: "boots-n-cats-n-boots-n-cats-n-boots!"

Or you can mix it up and go "cats-n-boots-n-cats-n-boots-n-cats!"

I got to studying up on beatboxing, and as it turns out, "Cats-n-Boots" is a variation on "Pants-n-Boots," another iconic beatbox track.

If you have Siri, ask her to beatbox for you.  You won't be sorry! 

And if you don't have Siri, I'm really sorry.

I've gotta go, Big People!  I've gotta practice my beatboxing!  Maybe Siri and I will put on a concert!  Muah!

January 28, 1986

Every generation has their own January 28, 1986.

Hiya, Big People!  How are you this Thursday?

Well, this is something WAY before my time, and I'm not even sure that it isn't considered ancient history at this point, but it's important to my Mommy, so I wanna talk about it.

I guess thirty years ago today, something happened that really changed things for a lot of kids.  Thirty years ago today, there was a space shuttle named Challenger that lifted off from Cape Canaveral in Florida.  Kids all across America got to put their plastic chairs in rows in front of televisions perched atop smart carts so they could watch the space shuttle lift off. 

Mommy says this wasn't the first space shuttle to lift off from the launch pad in Florida, but it was a special one, because there was a teacher on that space shuttle named Christa McAuliffe.  She got to be the Teacher In Space and she was gonna do some science experiments in space and have 'em beamed back down to kids on earth. 

So all these kids, Mommy included, were lined up in front of the television sets in their schools, and the space shuttle started up.  There was white smoke, because a space shuttle doesn't just decide to take off and not expect to make a fuss about it.  The Earth tends to like to keep its people home, you know?  But there was lotsa smoke, and some fire, and lotsa excitement as that space shuttle left the launch pad and rode into the sky on a bright white pillar of fire.

But something went wrong, and the space shuttle disappeared into a big ball of white smoke and fire.  That wasn't right.  Mommy says it was confusing.  Nobody really understood what happened at first.  And then when they did, they were sad. That space shuttle had an accident on its way to the sky, and everybody on it died.

Mommy says that for the rest of the day of school, whenever she and her classmates would see other kids in the hall, or in the cafeteria, or out on the playground, they'd ask each other if they saw the space shuttle blow up, and if they knew there was a teacher on it.  Mommy said she and her friends were second graders, so that was about as deep as their analysis could go.

But over the next few weeks, maybe even for the rest of the school year, all the teachers had newspaper clippings about the Challenger, and the space program, and Christa McAuliffe on their bulletin boards.  The kids could learn everything they ever wanted to know about space travel from reading those bulletin boards.

Mommy says that sometimes, January 28, 1986 seems like it was just yesterday, and that it definitely doesn't seem like it was thirty years ago.  She says that every generation has their January 28, 1986, that day that freezes time and changes everything forever, especially for the people who were Little Kids when it happened.  I feel like that's an awfully ominous thing for her to say to me. 

Maybe my generation's January 28, 1986 will be the day when people decide they can see past their differences and all get along.  Maybe my generation's January 28, 1986 will be the day our world really does become a better place, a place that really is as beautiful and peaceful as it looks from outer space, where the space shuttle Challenger was supposed to fly.

But I'm gonna remember the Challenger Seven with Mommy today, and with all of you who were Little Kids on January 28, 1986.  And even if you were Big People, then, too.  It couldn't have been an easy day for anybody, and you have my big hugs, Big People.  I love ya lots!  I'll see ya tomorrow.

The Bad Mood Kid

I pretty much meant it when I said I was sorry.

Hiya, Big People!  Happy Wednesday to you! 

Well, ya know, I have my moods, just like anybody else does.  That doesn't mean I'm a bad little kid or that I'm better than anyone else, but it just means that I have lotsa moods, and they all take a turn runnin' through me, and some of 'em are nicer than others.

The other day, I was havin' just a rotten time.  It was Monday.  My fun weekend was over.  I had to have my hair washed.  I HATE havin' my hair washed.  I had to stop playing a game that I love to play in order to hop in the tub and have my hair washed.  I hate havin' to stop playing games that I love.  So this set me up for a fit of meanness.

So I get in the tub, and Mommy helped me brush my teeth.  I wasn't in the mood to be in the tub in the first place, so brushing my teeth was a major imposition.  Then she told me to tip my head back so she could get my hair wet.  I didn't want to.  I didn't want my hair wet or washed, and I told her so, and she said I hadn't had my hair washed all weekend long, and that I'd better tip my head back, or she was gonna just dump the water over my head.  I didn't think she dared, because I hate it when water gets in my face, and she knows that!  So I didn't tip my head back.

Well, danged if Mommy didn't just go ahead and dump the water right over my head.  I screamed and told Mommy I hate her.  Hate her.  She didn't even flinch.  She wiped the water out of my face, grabbed up the shampoo, and started washing my hair.  THE NERVE OF HER!  Washing my hair, like I hadn't JUST told her I didn't want my hair washed and that I hate her.  So I screamed and cried like she was pullin' my hair on purpose, even though she wasn't pulling my hair.  One of these times when I do that, she'll stop washing my hair, for fear that she's pulling my hair.  One of these times, that'll work.  But it didn't work on Monday.  She just kept washing my hair... and she sudsed it up TWICE, no less!

And then she told me if I didn't stop fussing, I wasn't gonna get to play with my bath toys and I was gonna hafta get out of the tub as soon as she got my hair rinsed.  But she'd drawn all that water, and she wouldn't let it go to waste, just because I was fussing, so I kept on.  Boy, I had a good head of rage worked up while she rinsed my hair the second time, and probably said I really, really hate her.  I can't remember.  I was in the heat of a hot moment, there.

So then, do you know what she did?!  That's right.  She let the water right the heck outta the tub, soon's I had all the suds out of my hair!  And when I tried to get to the stopper again and stop the water from going down the drain, she reached in and let the water back out!

Just for that, I didn't help Mommy dress me.  I fought her, every garment of the way.  You bet I did.  And I screamed every single time the comb pulled my hair, even just a little bit, because Mommy deserved to hear me scream.  Then she got my hair all done and told me I could go downstairs.  I told HER to go away, and that I don't like her, and that I wish I just had Daddy, not Mommy.

So I wound up taking quite a nap on Monday.  A two-parter.  Nap and sequel nap.  Once I woke up, I realized I was probably pretty mean to Mommy, when really, I shoulda just been mean. Or maybe irritated.  I shouldn't have told her I hate her, and that I wish I just had Daddy, not Mommy.  I felt genuinely bad about that.

Anyways, the point of all this is that we all have our bad moods, Big People.  Even your pal Zoe.  I'm mostly a nice kid, but I have my mornings.  You know how it is.  I try not to be so mean!

I hope ya still love me, even if my halo's kinda crooked this week.  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

Celebratin' the Yard-Pebbles In Life!

I like to celebrate all the Yard-Pebbles in life!

Hiya, Big People!  Happy Tuesday to you! 

Hey.  Didja know that this is my eleven-hundredth post?  It's true.  Usually I don't make a big deal out of how many posts I've written, because every day, it's always one more than the day before, but when the numbers end in double zeros, I tend to sit up and take notice, and today's one of those days.

Not only is eleven-hundred a whole lot of weblog posts, but 1100 is a cool number.  You have a pair of ones, a pair of zeros. 

This is one of those things that's likely a big deal only to me, Friends.  But for me it's a really big deal. Well, not the kind of really big deal that learning to crawl, talk, and walk was.  Those were definitely bigger deals than eleven-hundred blog posts.  Also, so were the times I ate chocolate, ordered from a restaurant menu, and got to turn my carseat around to face forward when I ride.

I guess all those things are called "milestones" in life, because they mark something important that takes a little while to get to.  But this post is important to my, by golly.  Maybe not up to "milestone" status, but it's definitely... I don't know... a yard-pebble, you know?  Well, because yards aren't as long as miles, and pebbles are little stones.  There ya go.  I've coined a new name for something we all have, but were just callin' 'em "little milestones."

How about that?!

Hey, Friends, I'll see ya tomorrow.  I love ya lots!  Muah!

Reintegrating Into Regular Routines

Sometimes it's hard to get into reintegrating into regular routines.

Happy Monday, Big People!

Boyo boy, I'll tell ya what.  I had a GREAT weekend.  It was just the most fun weekend ever, and I loved the dickens right the heck out of it.  I spent the whole, entire weekend at Gramma's house.  I got to play with all the toys, and eat wonderful food, and have all the chocolate chip cookies I wanted.  And then yesterday when Mommy and Daddy came to pick me up, they stayed around, and we played the dang ol' Wii!  It was so much fun!  We played carnival games and Mario Kart.

It turns out that I'm an enthusiastic driver.  In fact, what I lack in skill, I make up for in enthusiasm about the art of driving.  No matter.  My favorite race course is through Coconut Mall, but I'll tell ya what, nobody better be racing Mario Karts through MY mall, the Bingham Centre.

Anyway.  It's Monday now, and like I said, I'm having a little trouble getting excited about being back in my regular routine.  I bet you can relate, Friends.  I bet you can relate.

Anyways, I love ya lots, Friends!  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!