Wednesday, June 17, 2009

By The Hair of My Chinny Chin Chin

Sean's at work. Lola is in pre K. Gibby is napping upstairs. I'm sitting in my sun room wondering what nonsensical verbage will magically pop out of my head and onto the screen? I'm listening to the sounds around me. The thunk thunk thunk tap of the keys under my fingers, the constant hum of the modem, the birds in the yard cheeping. I hear the garbage truck rounding the corner of Tulip Lane behind us.

I should surprise Sean and mow the lawn. I don't feel like dealing with the piles of dog poo in the backyard though. There's so much weeding to be done and I think I left a load of wet laundry in the washer from yesterday. I'm scratching my chin and feel...Whoa, what the...a CHIN HAIR? I'm freaked out and intrigued at the same time. Maybe this is my next calling..let the chin hair grow, of course there is just one! And it will amaze all across the land. Millions will come to see this chin hair wonder and its humble hostess. The blind will see, the lame will walk, all will speak their own language and all will understand (bathroom break, be right back.)

"We loose ourselves in the fog of everyday life." I just heard that on tv, an insurance commercial I think. So, back to my musings...Why on earth do you need to talk on your cell phone while walking the dog? I'm thinking about grilled lamb chops and a spinach salad for dinner tonight, throw in some goat cheese and cranberries and we're good to go. I should sign up for on line banking. Stinky Newman needs a bath. He just forced himself under the computer table and sent my coffee cup for a spin. He lays his head on the printer and then makes these incredibly loud swallow noises for about five minutes until he gets comfy.

Now I'm under assault from neighbors on both sides. Both are tackling their lawns with super sized mowers. A gorgeous breeze is now blowing and causing me to sneeze. I'm thinking about Lola, probably outside on the playground playing with her friends. When I picked her up yesterday she was busily making a sand pie. She was sitting in the sandbox with a red bucket between her knees, her blonde copper hair spilling into her eyes. "It's made with sand, grass, and this rock! Taste it, it's good!"

I just pulled three loaves of banana bread from the oven. When good bananas go bad! I usually add chocolate chips and a heavy splash of Myers Dark Rum for good measure.

Well, I should get back to reality, grab a shower, brush my teeth, groceries, errands, and find those tweezers.

1 comment:

  1. wonderful really are a gifted writer...Erma Bombeck meets Carl Hiassen meets Nora Ephron