Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 108
July 22, 2012
Flying Food and Dancing on Chairs
It was party time! My dad and my son had some birthdays to celebrate today. We all went out to Iron Chef, a funky hibachi grill restaurant. I didn't realize quite how funky it was until I got there.
The "iron chef" came out and started making fire and throwing his cooking knives into the air.
"Whoa!" my son said. "You're crazy!"
The hibachi guy laughed. Then he spun some eggs on the hot grill and flipped them into his hat and into his pocket.
"Cool!" said my son. "Can I do that?"
Hibachi guy laughed again. "It an ancient Chinese art form. It take many years to master."
I guess that was a "no."
Next came the flying food part. "Open your mouth," hibachi guy said. He started flinging chicken pieces at us, expecting us to catch it in our mouths. My little guy had some trouble, so hibachi guy said, "Close your eyes. I help." He whipped a piece off his metal spatula and it landed right in his mouth. Bullseye!
That guy was good.
After the meal, a bunch of drum-toting Asian dudes gathered around us. They pointed to my son and my dad. "You," they said. "Get up, and stand on your chairs."
Seriously?
So Bubba, who thought it was great to finally get to stand on a chair and not be yelled at, hopped right up with a big grin on his face. Even my dad, who is now officially retired, got up on that chair. The drum beats started. My dad did a boogie, my son did something that looked a little like break-dancing, and the whole restaurant sang "Happy Birthday."
It was a moment to remember.
The "iron chef" came out and started making fire and throwing his cooking knives into the air.
"Whoa!" my son said. "You're crazy!"
The hibachi guy laughed. Then he spun some eggs on the hot grill and flipped them into his hat and into his pocket.
"Cool!" said my son. "Can I do that?"
Hibachi guy laughed again. "It an ancient Chinese art form. It take many years to master."
I guess that was a "no."
Next came the flying food part. "Open your mouth," hibachi guy said. He started flinging chicken pieces at us, expecting us to catch it in our mouths. My little guy had some trouble, so hibachi guy said, "Close your eyes. I help." He whipped a piece off his metal spatula and it landed right in his mouth. Bullseye!
That guy was good.
After the meal, a bunch of drum-toting Asian dudes gathered around us. They pointed to my son and my dad. "You," they said. "Get up, and stand on your chairs."
Seriously?
So Bubba, who thought it was great to finally get to stand on a chair and not be yelled at, hopped right up with a big grin on his face. Even my dad, who is now officially retired, got up on that chair. The drum beats started. My dad did a boogie, my son did something that looked a little like break-dancing, and the whole restaurant sang "Happy Birthday."
It was a moment to remember.
July 21, 2012
Cupcake Crumbs
Tomorrow will be my son's eighth birthday party. (He now informs everyone that he is seven and four quarters years old.) Since my boy loves turtles, I made him a turtle birthday cake. It required two batches of cake mix - a full cake for the shell, and cupcakes for the legs and head.
Needless to say, the house smelled great. Of course, my kids had their friends over while I was busy baking.
"Mrs. Ellis, that smells really good. Can we have some?"
"No," I said. "These cupcakes are for the party tomorrow."
They gave me sad faces. I felt kind of bad, because I know how hard it is to be a kid and smell baking, and not get a sample. Maybe if they're good, I can spare a few cupcakes, I thought.
I went about my business.
About twenty minutes later, I went to check on the kids. They were in the loft with hermit crabs crawling all over them. And do you know what else? There were cupcake crumbs all over the floor.
Uh oh.
"Kids," I said. "What's going on here?"
They gave me the guilty look.
"But they looked so good, we couldn't resist," they said.
I shook my head and got the vacuum. "Glad you enjoyed them. Now you can clean up the crumbs."
Hee hee.
.
Needless to say, the house smelled great. Of course, my kids had their friends over while I was busy baking.
"Mrs. Ellis, that smells really good. Can we have some?"
"No," I said. "These cupcakes are for the party tomorrow."
They gave me sad faces. I felt kind of bad, because I know how hard it is to be a kid and smell baking, and not get a sample. Maybe if they're good, I can spare a few cupcakes, I thought.
I went about my business.
About twenty minutes later, I went to check on the kids. They were in the loft with hermit crabs crawling all over them. And do you know what else? There were cupcake crumbs all over the floor.
Uh oh.
"Kids," I said. "What's going on here?"
They gave me the guilty look.
"But they looked so good, we couldn't resist," they said.
I shook my head and got the vacuum. "Glad you enjoyed them. Now you can clean up the crumbs."
Hee hee.
.
July 20, 2012
Onion Breath
I went outside to water my plants today, and happened to notice that one of my onions was ready to be harvested. I pulled it out of the ground, washed it off, and laid down while I continued my watering. (Yeah, I probably should've left it in the ground until I was finished watering, but my brain wasn't working so well.)
Anyway, a certain hairy beast, AKA Schultz, the German Shepherd, came bolting out of the house. (Why do my kids always release him when I'm trying to water the garden? ) He ran into the water and trampled my flowers, as usual.
"Schultz, get out of here!" I said.
To my amazement, he actually listened.
I continued watering the flowers. When I was done, I put away the hose and turned my attention to the dog. What do you think he was doing? Yep. Munching on the onion.
"Dog, what the heck is the matter with you?" I bellowed.
He looked at me and cocked his head.
"Get over here!"
He got up and dropped the half-chewed onion at my feet. I stooped down to pick it up and got a whiff of some serious onion breath. Disgusting!
"Come on, dog. You're getting your teeth brushed."
I took him in the house and brushed his pearly whites with chicken-flavored toothpaste. I'm not quite sure it had the desired effect, because now the beast smells like he had a chicken dinner with raw onions.
Yuck!
Anyway, a certain hairy beast, AKA Schultz, the German Shepherd, came bolting out of the house. (Why do my kids always release him when I'm trying to water the garden? ) He ran into the water and trampled my flowers, as usual.
"Schultz, get out of here!" I said.
To my amazement, he actually listened.
I continued watering the flowers. When I was done, I put away the hose and turned my attention to the dog. What do you think he was doing? Yep. Munching on the onion.
"Dog, what the heck is the matter with you?" I bellowed.
He looked at me and cocked his head.
"Get over here!"
He got up and dropped the half-chewed onion at my feet. I stooped down to pick it up and got a whiff of some serious onion breath. Disgusting!
"Come on, dog. You're getting your teeth brushed."
I took him in the house and brushed his pearly whites with chicken-flavored toothpaste. I'm not quite sure it had the desired effect, because now the beast smells like he had a chicken dinner with raw onions.
Yuck!
July 19, 2012
Saran Wrap Surprise
My kids decided to have a little fun today, at my expense.
"Mama, come here," my daughter said.
"I'm busy," I said. "Can it wait?"
"No, you have to come right now," she answered.
I sighed and trudged upstairs where my kids were waiting for me. They could barely contain their giggles. I knew this was going to be good.
"Here, Mama. Put on this mask so you can't see."
I took the velvet eye mask. "Seriously? Can't I just close my eyes?"
"No. You have to wear the mask."
I shook my head. "Fine. Let's just get this done quickly, because I have a ton of stuff to do."
I put on the mask and let my daughter lead me into my bedroom. Then she directed me to where the master bathroom should be. Except I ran into something - something plasticy and clingy. "What?" I said, ripping off the mask.
I couldn't believe what I saw. My kids had rigged my bathroom entry way with Saran Wrap. It stretched across the entire door, and was held secure with Scotch tape.
Argh! Do you think they were bored, or something?
"Mama, come here," my daughter said.
"I'm busy," I said. "Can it wait?"
"No, you have to come right now," she answered.
I sighed and trudged upstairs where my kids were waiting for me. They could barely contain their giggles. I knew this was going to be good.
"Here, Mama. Put on this mask so you can't see."
I took the velvet eye mask. "Seriously? Can't I just close my eyes?"
"No. You have to wear the mask."
I shook my head. "Fine. Let's just get this done quickly, because I have a ton of stuff to do."
I put on the mask and let my daughter lead me into my bedroom. Then she directed me to where the master bathroom should be. Except I ran into something - something plasticy and clingy. "What?" I said, ripping off the mask.
I couldn't believe what I saw. My kids had rigged my bathroom entry way with Saran Wrap. It stretched across the entire door, and was held secure with Scotch tape.
Argh! Do you think they were bored, or something?
July 18, 2012
Flying Trays and Other Assorted Mayhem
It was Friday the 13th. We were in San Francisco. The day was as gloomy as could be. Fog covered the land. I could just tell it was going to be a day to remember.
The first indication that something was amiss was when we got on the Muni subway. There were more bums on that thing than normal people. The majority of them seemed completely stoned out of their minds. I told my kids not to look at them, because they weren't the friendly sort that we met in San Diego.
We got off at Civic Center where the city hall was, and where the theaters and fine arts were located. It was a bad situation. Homeless people were everywhere, and the air smelled like drugs. In fact, one guy threw a blue restaurant tray at us, barely missing my daughter.
My husband quickly turned us around, and we got the heck out of there! It was completely unsafe.
Later that day, we made our way to Fisherman's Warf and Pier 39. There was an assortment of entertainers, including some mimes. Now, I don't normally mind mimes, but these guys were scary! Something was wrong with them. I figured out what it was when I saw one completely gold mime huddled by a garbage dump, snorting drugs. Fortunately, my kids didn't see that one.
San Francisco is not the place it was 15 years ago. It is messed up big time! So, San Francisco, here's what I have to say to you: You're cable cars are cool, but your drug-addicted homeless are not! You'd better fix that problem, or I'm not coming back!
The first indication that something was amiss was when we got on the Muni subway. There were more bums on that thing than normal people. The majority of them seemed completely stoned out of their minds. I told my kids not to look at them, because they weren't the friendly sort that we met in San Diego.
We got off at Civic Center where the city hall was, and where the theaters and fine arts were located. It was a bad situation. Homeless people were everywhere, and the air smelled like drugs. In fact, one guy threw a blue restaurant tray at us, barely missing my daughter.
My husband quickly turned us around, and we got the heck out of there! It was completely unsafe.
Later that day, we made our way to Fisherman's Warf and Pier 39. There was an assortment of entertainers, including some mimes. Now, I don't normally mind mimes, but these guys were scary! Something was wrong with them. I figured out what it was when I saw one completely gold mime huddled by a garbage dump, snorting drugs. Fortunately, my kids didn't see that one.
San Francisco is not the place it was 15 years ago. It is messed up big time! So, San Francisco, here's what I have to say to you: You're cable cars are cool, but your drug-addicted homeless are not! You'd better fix that problem, or I'm not coming back!
Pesky Coons
I have concluded that coons have attitude problems. It doesn't matter where they are - west coast, east coast, no coast - they're just pesky.
Today's story involves a raccoon we came across on the Pacific Highway in California. We had just visited Hearst Castle and were making our way along the coast up to Montery Bay. It was getting dark and the fog was rolling in. If you've ever travelled on Highway One, you know that it winds along the edge of cliffs that drop off into the ocean. Not an easy drive even in good conditions.
Before long, the sun set, and we were left in total darkness. There we were, in the dark, in the fog, on an unlit road, winding along a cliff. Not good. Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, what do you think happened? Yep. A coon decided to cross the road in front of us. My husband slammed on the brakes, barely missing him. And do you know what that stupid thing did? He stopped and gave us a look like, "What the heck are you doing here, you idiots?" Then he meandered slowly across the street. I nearly had a heart attack! Fortunately none of us went careening over the cliff.
Fast forward to last night. I looked out my front window. What do you think I saw on my porch? You guessed it. The pesky coon we saw on the fourth of July. I opened my door and said, "Hey, what do you think you're doing here?"
The stupid coon didn't budge. He just sat there looking at me.
I decided to call Schultz, our big old German Shepherd. I figured he'd like to have a piece of that coon. "Schultz!" The dog didn't move. "Schultz!" I called again. Again, the dog wouldn't budge. Apparently he was tired from his ten days in the pet hotel. (The workers told us that he had a lot of girlfriends, so I can just imagine what he was up to.)
I took matters into my own hands. I charged at the coon. That scared him off. At least he knew not to mess with an angry Mama!
Today's story involves a raccoon we came across on the Pacific Highway in California. We had just visited Hearst Castle and were making our way along the coast up to Montery Bay. It was getting dark and the fog was rolling in. If you've ever travelled on Highway One, you know that it winds along the edge of cliffs that drop off into the ocean. Not an easy drive even in good conditions.
Before long, the sun set, and we were left in total darkness. There we were, in the dark, in the fog, on an unlit road, winding along a cliff. Not good. Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, what do you think happened? Yep. A coon decided to cross the road in front of us. My husband slammed on the brakes, barely missing him. And do you know what that stupid thing did? He stopped and gave us a look like, "What the heck are you doing here, you idiots?" Then he meandered slowly across the street. I nearly had a heart attack! Fortunately none of us went careening over the cliff.
Fast forward to last night. I looked out my front window. What do you think I saw on my porch? You guessed it. The pesky coon we saw on the fourth of July. I opened my door and said, "Hey, what do you think you're doing here?"
The stupid coon didn't budge. He just sat there looking at me.
I decided to call Schultz, our big old German Shepherd. I figured he'd like to have a piece of that coon. "Schultz!" The dog didn't move. "Schultz!" I called again. Again, the dog wouldn't budge. Apparently he was tired from his ten days in the pet hotel. (The workers told us that he had a lot of girlfriends, so I can just imagine what he was up to.)
I took matters into my own hands. I charged at the coon. That scared him off. At least he knew not to mess with an angry Mama!
July 16, 2012
Dancing with the Vagabond
I'm back! Sorry I didn't give you a warning that I was going to drop off the blogosphere for a little while. My family and I just came back from a lengthy vacation in California. My husband asked that I not broadcast that information before we left, so I didn't. It was weird to be totally unplugged. I missed you guys!
Anyway, my family and I did the grand tour of California, starting in San Diego and working our way up to the Red Wood Forest. It was a great time, and as you can probably imagine, it was full of laughs and crazy adventures. For the next few days, I will share a few stories with you. Please pardon any typos. I'm extremely tired, as I haven't slept in two days. (The red-eye flight back with the kids was a ton of fun!)
First story takes place in San Diego's Gas Light District. For those of you not familiar with it, it's a section of downtown San Diego with lots of shops, restaurants, and entertainment. My family and I had dinner down there one evening. As we walked back to our hotel, an entertaining individual crossed our path.
He was a homeless dude with a cart full of stuff - clothes, pillow, blankets, a plastic head, and a radio. This dude had the song, Party in the House Tonight, blasting from his radio. He wore no shirt, even though it was about 50 degrees. No... I take that back. He wore no shirt on his torso. His shirt was on his head. And he was munching on a hot dog, dancing to the music. A little sign in his cart said, "Disabled Veteran."
Yeah, right.
So this dude got one look at me and my family, and decided to follow us. My kids thought this was great.
"Mama, can I dance with him?" my son asked.
I looked at the strange vagabond. He seemed pretty harmless, and we were with a crowd of people.
"Okay," I said. "But don't get too crazy."
Well, my boy started doing something that resembled the funky chicken, and the dude did something that resembled the Macarena.
The crowd was totally cracking up.
Eventually, the vagabond headed off in the other direction, lost in his own world, and my son headed off in our direction, lost in his own world. What a pair!
Anyway, my family and I did the grand tour of California, starting in San Diego and working our way up to the Red Wood Forest. It was a great time, and as you can probably imagine, it was full of laughs and crazy adventures. For the next few days, I will share a few stories with you. Please pardon any typos. I'm extremely tired, as I haven't slept in two days. (The red-eye flight back with the kids was a ton of fun!)
First story takes place in San Diego's Gas Light District. For those of you not familiar with it, it's a section of downtown San Diego with lots of shops, restaurants, and entertainment. My family and I had dinner down there one evening. As we walked back to our hotel, an entertaining individual crossed our path.
He was a homeless dude with a cart full of stuff - clothes, pillow, blankets, a plastic head, and a radio. This dude had the song, Party in the House Tonight, blasting from his radio. He wore no shirt, even though it was about 50 degrees. No... I take that back. He wore no shirt on his torso. His shirt was on his head. And he was munching on a hot dog, dancing to the music. A little sign in his cart said, "Disabled Veteran."
Yeah, right.
So this dude got one look at me and my family, and decided to follow us. My kids thought this was great.
"Mama, can I dance with him?" my son asked.
I looked at the strange vagabond. He seemed pretty harmless, and we were with a crowd of people.
"Okay," I said. "But don't get too crazy."
Well, my boy started doing something that resembled the funky chicken, and the dude did something that resembled the Macarena.
The crowd was totally cracking up.
Eventually, the vagabond headed off in the other direction, lost in his own world, and my son headed off in our direction, lost in his own world. What a pair!
July 5, 2012
Bandit Strikes Again
I hope all of you Americans had a great Fourth of July. My family and I did. Lots of fireworks!
So last night, I happened to look out my front window. I had to look twice, because what I saw was a big furry gray thing. It was eating my cat's food.
"Hey!" I yelled, knocking on my front door.
The big furry gray thing looked up. It had a black mask on. Yep. The gray furry thing was a coon. And that coon didn't care that I was knocking on my door. It just looked at me and went back to eating.
"So you think you're going to steal my cat's food, do you?" I opened the door and looked at him. He backed away a few steps and looked at me. "Well? Don't just stand there. Get lost!"
It just stood there. Apparently I'm not very scary looking.
Then Schultz came to the door to see what was going on. (Schultz is my hundred pound German Shepherd, for those of you who don't know.) That coon took one look at Schultz, and he was out of there! He ran as fast as his furry little legs could carry him. I bet he was one of those rascals Schultz chased away a couple of weeks ago.
Schultz was pleased. He didn't even have to chase it (although I'm sure he would've liked to). Good boy, Schultz!
So last night, I happened to look out my front window. I had to look twice, because what I saw was a big furry gray thing. It was eating my cat's food.
"Hey!" I yelled, knocking on my front door.
The big furry gray thing looked up. It had a black mask on. Yep. The gray furry thing was a coon. And that coon didn't care that I was knocking on my door. It just looked at me and went back to eating.
"So you think you're going to steal my cat's food, do you?" I opened the door and looked at him. He backed away a few steps and looked at me. "Well? Don't just stand there. Get lost!"
It just stood there. Apparently I'm not very scary looking.
Then Schultz came to the door to see what was going on. (Schultz is my hundred pound German Shepherd, for those of you who don't know.) That coon took one look at Schultz, and he was out of there! He ran as fast as his furry little legs could carry him. I bet he was one of those rascals Schultz chased away a couple of weeks ago.
Schultz was pleased. He didn't even have to chase it (although I'm sure he would've liked to). Good boy, Schultz!
July 3, 2012
Poor Little Grasshopper
You wouldn't think anything weird would happen if you just go to Subway to get some lunch. Well, in my world, weird things happen everywhere we go.
We got out of the car, and the first thing out of my daughter's mouth was, "Look, Mom, a cute little grasshopper!"
I thought she must've been seeing things, because no grasshopper in its right mind would be sitting on an asphalt parking lot in 103 degree heat.
I walked around to take a look. Sure enough, there was a little grasshopper. "Leave it alone," I said. "Let's go get some lunch."
Do you think my son listened? No way, Jose! Apparently a little grasshopper was just too hard to resist. He chased that thing all around the parking lot until he caught it. "Look, Mama, I caught it!"
"Very good," I said. "Now let it go, and let's get our lunch."
The boy had other ideas. He brought the bug inside. There he was, in Subway, with a grasshopper dangling from his hand.
The lady behind the counter freaked out. Apparently she didn't like insects. To make a long story short, we had to chase the grasshopper around Subway before he ended up becoming part of a sandwich. We caught him and sent him out the door.
"Go back to your field bug, or next time you won't be so lucky!" I said.
Poor grasshopper!
We got out of the car, and the first thing out of my daughter's mouth was, "Look, Mom, a cute little grasshopper!"
I thought she must've been seeing things, because no grasshopper in its right mind would be sitting on an asphalt parking lot in 103 degree heat.
I walked around to take a look. Sure enough, there was a little grasshopper. "Leave it alone," I said. "Let's go get some lunch."
Do you think my son listened? No way, Jose! Apparently a little grasshopper was just too hard to resist. He chased that thing all around the parking lot until he caught it. "Look, Mama, I caught it!"
"Very good," I said. "Now let it go, and let's get our lunch."
The boy had other ideas. He brought the bug inside. There he was, in Subway, with a grasshopper dangling from his hand.
The lady behind the counter freaked out. Apparently she didn't like insects. To make a long story short, we had to chase the grasshopper around Subway before he ended up becoming part of a sandwich. We caught him and sent him out the door.
"Go back to your field bug, or next time you won't be so lucky!" I said.
Poor grasshopper!
July 2, 2012
Harvesting Hail
We had a wicked storm blow though here. In fact, one house in the neighborhood got struck by lightening and caught on fire. Not so good. Lightening didn't strike our house, but we got pelted by some golf-ball sized hail. It was crazy!
After the storm, my kids decided to check out the ice chunks that landed in our yard.
"Mama, I need a cup," my son said. (Sound familiar?)
I fetched the cup and gave it to him. My daughter wanted one, too.
A short while later, each kid had a full cup of hail balls.
"What are you going to do with those?" I asked.
"Put them in the freezer," my son said.
So now I have a freezer full of hail. A word of caution to ya'll: If you visit my pad, and I give you a drink, it may contain hail balls instead of ice cubes.
After the storm, my kids decided to check out the ice chunks that landed in our yard.
"Mama, I need a cup," my son said. (Sound familiar?)
I fetched the cup and gave it to him. My daughter wanted one, too.
A short while later, each kid had a full cup of hail balls.
"What are you going to do with those?" I asked.
"Put them in the freezer," my son said.
So now I have a freezer full of hail. A word of caution to ya'll: If you visit my pad, and I give you a drink, it may contain hail balls instead of ice cubes.
