Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 51

A Little Night Fun

Last night, there were a lot of kids over at my house.  Everybody seemed to be getting along just fine, so I went about my business doing whatever it is I do.

A short while later, I heard screaming. And it seemed to be coming from outside.  I had to investigate.  What I found was a bunch of kids and a dog chasing a beam of light around the yard.

It was the flashlight game. Five kids and a very large German Shepherd (Schultz)  were bumping into each other, in a crazed frenzy, trying to catch this light.

I shook my head and watched.

Ten minutes later, and completely exhausted, they all marched into the house.

"I supposed you all want a bowl of water now," I said.

Six panting creatures with their tongues sticking out looked at me expectantly.

So I put out five soup bowls and one very large dog bowl filled with water and let them slurp it up.

(Fortunately, it was only Schultz who dribbled the water onto the floor.)
  

Conversation with a Frog

The other day, I took my daughter to a new frozen yogurt place.  In front of the store, was a person in a frog costume. (The name of the place has something to do with a frog.)  Since I'm a little crazy, I struck up a conversation with this individual.  Here's how it went:

Me:  "It's like 95 degrees out here.  You must be roasting!"

Frog:  *Big nod*  (I was surprised his head didn't fall off.)

Me:  "You should really go inside and cool off.  A little frozen yogurt might be nice, too."

Frog:  *Another nod.  Then a shrug.*

Me:  "I'm going to get myself some ."

Frog:  *Thumbs up sign*

I went inside and got two cups of frozen yogurt - one for me and one for my daughter.

I came back out and resumed my conversation.

Me:  "See, you're doing such a good job of advertising, that I got some.  It's good!"

Frog:  *Claps hands*

Me:  "Do you want some?"

Frog:  *Shakes head*

Me:  "Okay.  See ya.  Have a nice day!"

Frog:  *Waves bye*

Meanwhile, my daughter was trying to hide, because of course I was embarrassing her.

"Mom," she said when I was done.  "Didn't your mom ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

I nodded.  "Yes.  But she didn't say anything about frogs!"
  

 

Moose Fat

"Mama," my ten-year-old son said. "Did you know moose fat makes things taste better?"

I nearly choked on my roast beef sandwich when I heard that news.  "No, Bubba.  I had no idea."

"It's true.  There's a Canadian Survival show that says if you add moose fat to anything, it'll taste better."

"Does it work on Brussels sprouts?" I asked.

Bubba shrugged.  "Probably."  He paused for a second and then added, "You should add it to your recipes.  I bet it would make the food you cook taste much better."

Uh.  Okay.

Preposition Rap

Something a little different, today.  Since my brain is fried from lack of sleep, I'm going to give you all a taste of what my daughter does in school.  She raps.  Yep.  And not just any kind of rapping.  Prepositional rapping.  Her assignment was to create a rap using prepositions.  Here's an example of what I'm talking about.








(Yeah.  Isn't that great?  Except, isn't "is" a verb?)

So for the last two days, I've been listening to rap music as my daughter has been trying to complete her assignment.  No wonder I haven't been sleeping well!

Before I go back to sleep for the next two days, I want to share some illustrations from my upcoming picture book, Ten Zany Birds.  They're done by talented water-color illustrator, Charu Jain.


 
And here are the ten zany birds:


Which is your favorite?  (I like the green one the best.)

The Klutz Alarm

I don't function very well at 5:00 in the morning.  This morning was a particularly bad start.  By 5:13 AM, I had broken a bowl, spilled yogurt all over my kitchen floor, dropped two spoons, and caused a bottle of Coke to fall out of my refrigerator on to the floor. (I made a mental note not to open that bottle.  But of course by 5:00 tomorrow morning, I will have forgotten my mental note.)

Being completely discombobulated, I neglected to awaken my son at the appropriate time.  Fortunately, the breaking and dropping of things was enough of a commotion to awaken him from his deep slumber.

He came downstairs, rubbing his eyes. "Mama, why didn't you come and wake me up?"

"Bubba, I don't think I need to.  You're already up."

He stared at me on my hands and knees, cleaning up the last of the yogurt.  "Yeah," he said.  "You're right.  The klutz alarm went off!"

The Foot and the Dog

I came home last night from teaching, and saw something very strange.  My daughter was holding a jar of peanut butter in one hand, and a spoon loaded with the nutty stuff in the other. The spoon was being licked by none other than our hundred pound German Shepherd, Schultz.

"What's going on here?" I asked.  I couldn't believe he was being fed peanut butter right out of the jar.

"Schultz got hurt, and I'm trying to make him feel better," my daughter said.

"Exactly what happened?" I asked.  I had a feeling this was going to be good.

"Bubba (my son) was stomping around the house, not paying attention.  Schultz was lying down in the stair landing in the dark, having a nap,  and Bubba stomped on him. Poor Schultzy yiped really loud!"

I could just imagine.  

My daughter continued. "So we gave Schultzy lots of ice cubes and peanut butter, so he knows we still love him."

I'm happy to report that Schultz has suffered no lasting effects from his meeting with Bubba's foot.  Let's hope it doesn't happen, again, because I don't want to have to keep buying new jars of peanut butter!

Fashionable Mama

I was attempting to clean my teenage daughter's room this morning, when I noticed a familiar-looking sun dress on the floor.  I went over and picked it up.  Isn't this mine? I thought.  Then I saw a sweater on the ground.  It looked familiar, too.  What's going on, here?

I went downstairs and asked my daughter how my articles of clothing ended up on her floor.

"I went through your closet and found some things I want to wear for school," she explained.  "I have another of your sun dresses, too.  I'm wearing it tomorrow."

Oh.  "Okay," I said.  "But I thought you didn't like my style."

She shrugged.  "It's okay. Sometimes.  And besides, the dresses fit me."

I see.  So maybe Mama is fashionable after all!

Underdeveloped Brain

Last night, I was helping my ten-year-old son with his homework.  He had math problems to solve.  Afterwards, he had to locate the answers in a number find (similar to those word find games).

For some reason, he was having difficulty locating the numbers.  I showed him how to do a search pattern, but he was still stumped on quite a few of them.  "I need help, Mama!"

I looked over his shoulder.  "Which ones can't you find?"

He pointed to the numbers.

I found them very easily.  "If I was able to find these in less than three seconds, why weren't you able to find them?" I asked.

He looked at me very seriously and said, "Because I'm a kid.  And I have an underdeveloped brain."
 

The Embarrassing Mama

It is my job to embarrass my kids as much as possible.  My teenage daughter has informed me that I am an expert.  Most of the time, I embarrass them by just being myself, which according to my daughter, is weird.  Yesterday, I embarrassed her by chewing my food too many times.  Never mind that it was just me and my kids at the dinner table.  (And why was she watching me chew a piece of food?  Isn't that weird?)

The real winner was when I went into school to meet her teacher.  Being the somewhat friendly person that I am, I struck up a conversation with her.  The teacher asked me questions, and I answered in complete sentences.  That apparently was not a cool thing to do.

"Mom, why did you have to answer like that?  You could've just given a one word answer, or said, 'yes' or 'no.'"

"But I always answer in complete sentences," I replied.  "What's wrong with that?"

"It's so embarrassing!"

Uh.  Like.  Okay.

  

How to Repopulate the World with Dinosaurs

I know you're all sitting on the edge of your chairs for this one.  Try not to fall off when I tell you how to have your very own pet dinosaur.

On the walk back from the school bus yesterday, I had a very enlightening conversation with my ten-year-old son.  He and his buddy wish to repopulate the world with dinosaurs.

"Mama, I know how to create dinosaurs using chicken eggs and DNA."

I looked at that kid.  "Really?  How?"

"First you get some dinosaur DNA."

I wrinkled my brows.  "How exactly are you going to get dinosaur DNA?  Dinosaurs have been extinct for millions of years."

"It's easy, Mama.  You find a dinosaur tooth or a dinosaur egg, and you extract it."

Okay. Never mind that those things are fossilized rocks now.

"Then what do you do?" I asked.

"Then you extract the chicken DNA from the egg and replace it with the dinosaur's"

"Sounds so simple," I said.  "And you can do that without breaking the egg?"

"Yes, Mama.  Scientist do it all the time."

"Extract chicken DNA and replace it with dinosaur DNA?"

"No.  They extract and insert chicken DNA to modify chickens."

Oh.

So ladies and gentlemen, if you look out the window and see a triceratops pruning the trees in your backyard, you know who to thank.