Monday, August 11, 2008

stream of something

I can't begin to explain how this happened, but all of a sudden, after 20-something years, I have stopped biting my nails. They are all pretty long (for me), I can see the white parts, it's an absurd reality in my daily life now, and rad.
Did you know that enjoying the scent of skunks may be genetic? I enjoy the notorious skunk smell, I have as long as I can remember. Yesterday we were hit with some skunk perfume while driving in the car and S piped up from the back seat, "What is that smell? I like that good smell." Nate and I looked at each other... S was surprised to learn that it was skunk smell he was enjoying, since he knew it was supposed to be distasteful. Eventually this line of conversation lead him to wonder whether the skunk likes his own smell. I don't know the answer, but I think it's an interesting question.
S has become a whiner. I don't know how or when exactly this happened. Maybe our friends and family have seen it for a long time, I don't know. But it's just hitting me, and hitting me hard. I remember being reprimanded for whining as a child, and I also remember feeling unjustly accused of doing something wrong. I'm just TALKING, I would think to myself, grumpily. Needless to say, I can certainly understand all the reprimands now. Frequent whining may very well be the most annoying habit on earth. Our chosen strategy is to calmly, lovingly, but firmly, point out to him that he is whining, and ask him to repeat himself in a regular voice. Having such a problem with my son's tone of voice has caused me to pay more attention to my own. And reminding him not to whine in a patient, calm voice? When in fact I am irritated and frustrated? Let's just say I'm working on it. My first instinct in these situations is to hop on Amazon. This time I decided against buying yet another parenting book that I don't have time to read. So here is the internet advice we are following, for anyone interested in joining the Campaign Against Whine.
I may have to get this on video for you to believe me, but T has developed a singing voice that sounds a lot like Bob Dylan. We will be singing a song we all know, and T's version will eventually move to a cadence and vocal quality that are undeniably reminiscent of Bob Dylan. It is fantastically funny.
I had a tattoo appointment for tomorrow. I was very excited. Then my tattoo artist emailed me saying she may have broken her hand. And now I may never have a map of Palmer Square on the inside of my arm. Bollocks.
Illinois residents: This is August. Can you believe these last few days? Wow.

4 comments:

Colin said...

Laura,
As much as I want you to have a map of Palmer Square inked onto you, I worry about saturation ----- I don't want you to be one of those people who get so many tattoos they start to look like they fell asleep at a pajama party around a box of markers.

Also: give the boys a hug for me. All of 'em. And make each one of them give one to you for me too.

Maiasaura said...

Colin,
Up until this fateful moment, my plan was to cover shoulders to elbows and possibly some of my back... nothing that couldn't be covered by a lightweight cardigan or a 3/4 sleeve tee. But, you know, I'm thinking now about how I really, really like the word 'saturated.' I think that for this word I'd be willing to do a face tattoo. Right across my forehead. Or maybe in nine little tears falling down my cheek. Thank you, Colin, for this spot of inspiration. I'm going to make an appointment today.

Colin said...

Or what about a combination: tattoo the Palmer map on your forehead/cheeks?

When someone asks what it is, you can get extra sassy and be like "that's where my boy was born, argh! I want to be able to see it in the mirror always!"

Angela said...

On a different note, constant whining is not only the most annoying habit, but without a doubt the most annoying THING on Earth. Hold on in there with your patience, calm, Voodoo, tranquilizers; whatever it takes.