Tag: holidays

Rotten pears and tomatoes

Good morning.

I am skipping church.

But not because I am in labor, or any stage of early labor.  Just because I don’t feel well at all.  I feel like one of those rotten pears at the grocery store that got buried under the perfectly ripe ones.

I want a pear now.  A ripe one.

I had this epic moment at 4:30 this morning: I feel like I need to share.  I was laying there, asleep, and for some reason I suddenly felt like I was going to lose whatever I had eaten for dinner the night before. (What WAS that, anyway?)  So, half asleep, I shot straight up, launched myself out of bed and somehow missed crashing into and destroying the Pack ‘n Play, and ran to the bathroom.

And once I was in the bathroom, I realized I felt completely fine.  There was no reason for that whole lunging from the bed thing I had just done.  Must have been in my dream?

In any case, I haven’t moved that fast in about…ten months.  I kind of wish it had been caught on tape so I could relive it.

So far this morning, I have eaten some breakfast, threw lunch in the Crock-Pot, and sat on the couch.  Today’s agenda is going to be basically take my sweet time cleaning the house (so it’ll probably take about 5 hours instead of the usual 3 1/2 hours…lame) and maybe put up a few Christmas decorations.

Maybe if the child senses Christmas decorations, it’ll inspire her to want to come out into the oxygen.

I’m not getting my hopes up.

Also, Henry needs a bath.  It has been at least three weeks (he usually gets bathed once a week) and he smells not unlike the rotten tomato I discovered behind the vegetable drawer in the refrigerator of our first apartment.  Thing had been in there so long and was so rotten that it completely disintegrated when I touched it….and oozed its rancid guts all over the bottom of the fridge.

It was one of the grossest moments of my life.

Last Year’s Christmas Present Makes A Whole Lot More Sense Now

Last year for Christmas, the Grandparents Laird gave us all clock radios with ceiling projection.  They had recently discovered the wonders of not having to turn over to look at the clock to discover what time it was in the middle of the night, and wanted to share the love with all of their grandchildren.

We were quite pleased with our gift and immediately put batteries in it and read the directions.

“Huh, this is weird,” Joey said.  ”The time only projects on the ceiling if you press the snooze button, but if I press the snooze button, the face of the clock lights up shows the time anyway.  And if I’m looking at it to press the snooze button, I don’t need to look at the ceiling also.”

“Yeah that is weird,” I said.

So we keep ours in the bathroom.  It tells the temperature on it and I’ve learned that if the bathroom gets over 71 degrees then my hair won’t cooperate, no matter how hard I try.

Turns out that the other siblings had the same question about the clock and its ceiling projection, but we all chocked it up to the fact that maybe Grandpa or Grandma preferred to look at the small red numbers on the ceiling instead of the large, glowing numerals that appeared when the snooze button was pressed.

I mean, my grandparents are pretty hip; Grandpa even has an iPhone.  Sometimes we just can’t understand their ways.

Well, fast forward 365 days to Friday afternoon.  The Grandparents Laird were visiting us for a few days as they do every year at this time.  They’re on their way through to Arizona with their RV, and we’re on the way.  Actually, I’m not sure if we’re really on the way, or if they just turn the map upside down and pretend we’re on the way.  In any case, they stop by and see us annually.  It’s great.

Joey and Gramps were at NorthPark doing who knows what (and I can’t believe Joey got Gramps into a mall at all) when Gramps asked Joey about how we were liking the clock.

“Well,” Joey said, “I’m not really sure if ours is set up right, because it will only project on the ceiling if you press the snooze button.  And I’m already looking at it by this point so I don’t need to see it on the ceiling.”

“No way,” Grandpa said, “It should always project on the ceiling.”

“Well, ours doesn’t.”

Grandpa paused.  ”Do you realize what this means?” He asked.

“Uh, no,” Joey said.

“This means I KNOW SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T!”  I can only imagine that the planets must have stopped rotating on their axes as Grandpa came to this realization.  I think he’s been shooting for this since Joey married into the family, but that is unconfirmed.

“I’ll set it up for you as soon as we get back to your house,” Grandpa replied.  (And I wasn’t there, but I’d be willing to be my entire 1999-2008 State Quarters collection that he was pretty smug when he said it.)

Well, they got back to our apartment and Gramps went into the bathroom to fix the clock; he emerged several moments later hollering, “THIS THING WON’T PROJECT ON THE CEILING!  I don’t think it’s the same model we have!”

This immediately sparked a debate between the Grandparents, because Grandma seemed to recall that the clock they gave us plugged in.

“No, the clock doesn’t plug in,” Joey said.  ”It only runs on batteries.”

“And…does the time not project on the ceiling?”  Grandpa asked.

“That man at Radio Shack TOLD me it was the same clock we had,” Grandma huffed.

“The time must not always project because it’s not plugged in,” Grandpa mused.  Then, “If the time doesn’t project on the ceiling, you all must have thought we were really weird to give you these time-projection clocks if they didn’t even project.”

Joey and I looked at each other, then we nodded sheepishly.  ”But we like it in the bathroom,” I said quickly.  ”It’s very handy.”

“But it’s not doing what it was supposed to do!  We got it so it would always project on the ceiling for you!”  Grandma was really upset at that Radio Shack man.  I would not want to be him, no siree.  Not at all.

“So…” Grandpa asked, “Did all you kids discuss this amongst yourselves since it wouldn’t project on the ceiling?”

“Well, sort of,” I said.  ”We did all think it was kind of weird that it only did the ceiling thing if you pushed the button.  BUT IT IS STILL USEFUL AND VERY HANDY,” I emphasized.  I learned from my Mom to always, always, always be thankful for a gift, even if it doesn’t project the time on the ceiling as advertised.

After about ten minutes, the fervor surrounding the clock and its lack of ceiling projection died down.  But today? Just ten minutes ago?  The thing started beeping for absolutely no reason and it reminded me that I should let you all know that now I understand my Christmas gift from last year a whole lot better.

Radio Shack dude sold the wrong model to my Grandma, that’s what.