The unfortunate events which I shall describe in overly-dramatic fashion today are:
1~(why do I always have to number things? Is there something wrong with me? I have three possible reasons for my numbering tendencies….opps, never mind.) Yesterday, I was in the kitchen when I heard a series of interesting plopping noises. They sounded so soft and harmless that I was almost certain an angel must have been blowing kisses from heaven……..but unfortunately it was actually Mary Claire murdering a dozen eggs. I had just come back from grocery shopping and left one of the grocery bags on the floor. While I put the other stuff away, our little assasin took advantage of the moment to put a hit on the Chickleoni family.
I now have no eggs…so don’t come knocking on my door for an omelet. I only wish I could have seen the look on her face when she realized the dozen eggs were solely her’s for the smashing. She has had her greedy little eyes set on getting a carton of eggs for months now, patiently waiting for me to make a mistake.
Look at her, so innocently watching Gabe trim the grass with scissors. Little did I know , in her head she was probably plotting the demise of my groceries. Don’t think for a second that eggs have been her only victim, loaves of bread shudder at the sight of her…
2~It is that time of year again! Graduation celebrations coming out of every orifice! Toot! Toot! Nary a life accomplishment can be left unheralded! Which is how we found ourselves at Eli’s preschool graduation program…even though he is not graduating preschool…since he is only 3 and a half. He is merely graduating into the next year of preschool… Yay?!
Mark, myself, my Dad, Gabe, and Mary Claire went to his school with our hopes high, ready to see the stunning performance by the “graduating” 3-4-5 year olds. Everyone expects to see a few tears shed at these monumental life events…but I don’t think anyone was anticipating the screaming that Eli ended up producing.
He did fine for a few minutes, but then I guess his nerves got the better of him. He subtlety signaled his apprehension by doing a total melt down, in mid-song. By Eli’s reaction you would have thought they were being lined up for execution. I ended up crawling on my hands and knees in front of the audience (so as to not block any of the photographs with my flowing mane) and proudly retrieved my little “graduate.” The other kids were able to respectably finish their performance of “Going on a bear hunt,” but there was no turning back for Eli. He has definitely removed Broadway performer from his future career possibilities.
This picture was taken right before he decided to scream in horror at this traumatic experience. Perhaps he thought they were literally getting ready to go on a Bear Hunt?
Thankfully they had reserved seating just for these type of events…
3~Our lawnmower exploded. It just really, actually exploded. We had been warned the motor was dying. The lawnmower repair man said to Mark “There’s nothing more we can do, just use it till’ the motor explodes and then get a new one”. Mark thought he was speaking figuratively, and actually laughed out loud when the man used the word “explodes.” But, as it turns out, he was honestly speaking quite literally.
No people were harmed, (just the mower,) And now we have a shiny new mower…
I can actually hear our savings account crying when I look at this picture.
4~ Lastly, and most entertainingly, the hydraulics on our car trunk stopped working. So now when I load the trunk with groceries, I have to hold the hatch up with my head or my back. It’s a very natural, graceful and breathtaking process; like a giraffe balancing laundry on its head while fumbling their hooves awkwardly for their car keys…you know, that kind of natural. I am sure I leave no strangers questioning what on earth is wrong with me. I’m gonna try and fix this problem sooner than later…
And thus ends my tales of woe, from Midwestern Suburbia.
Good weekend to you and good luck.