Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 59
April 23, 2014
Thinking Cap
A couple of weeks ago, my son was sitting in his room, at his desk, with a box over his head. It appeared he was trying to do his homework, but with the box on his head, I couldn't quite be sure.
"Bubba, what are you doing, and why is there a box on your head?" I asked.
"I'm doing my homework, Mama," he answered. "Hold on while I figure out the answer."
I looked over his shoulder and saw that he was doing some math problems. I also saw that the box was cut out in such a way that there was an opening for his face, and spaces cut out so it could sit comfortably on his shoulders. It was an elaborate concoction.
After a few seconds of staring at the math problem, Bubba took a pencil and started scribbling on the inside of his box. I watched quietly, trying to figure out what the kid was doing. When he was done, he wrote the answer to the problem on his paper.
"Okay, Bubba. What was that all about?"
He grinned. "This is my thinking cap. It's helping me do my homework!"
"Bubba, what are you doing, and why is there a box on your head?" I asked.
"I'm doing my homework, Mama," he answered. "Hold on while I figure out the answer."
I looked over his shoulder and saw that he was doing some math problems. I also saw that the box was cut out in such a way that there was an opening for his face, and spaces cut out so it could sit comfortably on his shoulders. It was an elaborate concoction.
After a few seconds of staring at the math problem, Bubba took a pencil and started scribbling on the inside of his box. I watched quietly, trying to figure out what the kid was doing. When he was done, he wrote the answer to the problem on his paper.
"Okay, Bubba. What was that all about?"
He grinned. "This is my thinking cap. It's helping me do my homework!"
April 22, 2014
Soap Scum Messages
The other day, I was cleaning the shower door in the bathroom. It was covered with soap scum, as is usually the case at the end of every week. As I wiped it down, I noticed what looked like the letter, "L."
Hmmm, I thought. What's this?
Upon careful inspection, I noticed the letters, "o," "v," and "e." "Love." There was a message written in that soap scum: I Love You.
Awww, how sweet! I thought. Who did this?
I asked my husband. It wasn't him.
I asked my daughter. It wasn't her.
That meant it was either the dog or my son. And since the quadruped doesn't have handy-dandy fingers to write such messages, it had to be only one person: Bubba!
"Bubba," I asked. "Did you write a soap message on the shower door?"
He grinned and nodded.
So I gave him a big hug. "I love you, too!"
Hmmm, I thought. What's this?
Upon careful inspection, I noticed the letters, "o," "v," and "e." "Love." There was a message written in that soap scum: I Love You.
Awww, how sweet! I thought. Who did this?
I asked my husband. It wasn't him.
I asked my daughter. It wasn't her.
That meant it was either the dog or my son. And since the quadruped doesn't have handy-dandy fingers to write such messages, it had to be only one person: Bubba!
"Bubba," I asked. "Did you write a soap message on the shower door?"
He grinned and nodded.
So I gave him a big hug. "I love you, too!"
April 21, 2014
Rowdy Raccoons
Raccoons were a big problem where I used to live in Cincinnati, Ohio. They were fearless creatures, coming up to the front door, staring in the windows, and going through our garbage. Our outdoor cat got into quite a few tousles with them.
One night, about two years ago, our giant German Shepherd, Schultz decided to deal with the ruffians. It was midnight, and my husband had let Schultz out for his last potty break. The coons were at the bird feeder, stealing seeds. Schultz spotted them right away and charged. You should've heard the commotion! There were four coons hissing, and one very irritated German Shepherd growling and barking. The scuffle lasted a few minutes, then all four coons climbed over the fence and retreated. Apparently they didn't like a very scary-looking dog with large teeth charging at them.
Schultz stood at the fence with his hair standing straight up on his back, making sure the coons were gone for good. When he was satisfied that they were, he gave another bark and trotted into the house.
He wagged his tail, and looked quite pleased with himself. "Good boy, Schultz," my husband said, giving him a treat.
(Schultz must've made quite an impression that night, because we never saw the coons in our back yard after that!)
One night, about two years ago, our giant German Shepherd, Schultz decided to deal with the ruffians. It was midnight, and my husband had let Schultz out for his last potty break. The coons were at the bird feeder, stealing seeds. Schultz spotted them right away and charged. You should've heard the commotion! There were four coons hissing, and one very irritated German Shepherd growling and barking. The scuffle lasted a few minutes, then all four coons climbed over the fence and retreated. Apparently they didn't like a very scary-looking dog with large teeth charging at them.
Schultz stood at the fence with his hair standing straight up on his back, making sure the coons were gone for good. When he was satisfied that they were, he gave another bark and trotted into the house.
He wagged his tail, and looked quite pleased with himself. "Good boy, Schultz," my husband said, giving him a treat.
(Schultz must've made quite an impression that night, because we never saw the coons in our back yard after that!)
April 19, 2014
Quiet
Life with kids is not quiet! There's constant chatter. Noisy toys. And lots of commotion. I like quiet. It's the only way I can hear the voices in my head to write my stories! So I can never understand why my kids insist on having music playing, or the TV on when they're doing their homework.
"No TV!" I always say, and turn it off whenever I find it on.
Well, last week, my son and I went to visit the psychologist. We suspected he might have ADD. One of the questions was, "Does you son like to have music or noise when he's doing his homework?"
"Why, yes," I said. "And it's driving me crazy!"
The psychologist laughed. Then he went to his computer and pulled up some brain pictures. "This is a normal brain," he said, pointing and some MRI images. "You can see normal activity in the frontal lobe."
I looked at the picture and nodded my head.
He continued. "Here's a brain of a person who has ADD." he pointed at the frontal lobe, where there were obviously black "holes" in it. "There's not enough activity here to be picked up by the MRI," he explained.
He pulled up another picture. The brain had even more "holes." "This is what happens when you 'force' an ADD person to focus. They shut down even more."
"Okay," I said. "But what does noise have to do with it?"
The psychologist grinned. "Noise stimulates the frontal lobe and helps the ADD person focus. The 'holes' shrink."
Bubba thought that was great news. "See, Mama! I told you I needed music and TV to help me do my homework!"
So much for quiet!
"No TV!" I always say, and turn it off whenever I find it on.
Well, last week, my son and I went to visit the psychologist. We suspected he might have ADD. One of the questions was, "Does you son like to have music or noise when he's doing his homework?"
"Why, yes," I said. "And it's driving me crazy!"
The psychologist laughed. Then he went to his computer and pulled up some brain pictures. "This is a normal brain," he said, pointing and some MRI images. "You can see normal activity in the frontal lobe."
I looked at the picture and nodded my head.
He continued. "Here's a brain of a person who has ADD." he pointed at the frontal lobe, where there were obviously black "holes" in it. "There's not enough activity here to be picked up by the MRI," he explained.
He pulled up another picture. The brain had even more "holes." "This is what happens when you 'force' an ADD person to focus. They shut down even more."
"Okay," I said. "But what does noise have to do with it?"
The psychologist grinned. "Noise stimulates the frontal lobe and helps the ADD person focus. The 'holes' shrink."
Bubba thought that was great news. "See, Mama! I told you I needed music and TV to help me do my homework!"
So much for quiet!
April 18, 2014
Perfect Sandwich
"Mama," my nine-year-old son said. "I'm going to make a perfect sandwich."
Good, I thought, Because now I'll have something to write about for the letter "p" in the A-Z challenge! "Okay, Bubba. Go for it."
He got out the bread. And the lunch meat. And the mayonnaise. And the onions. About ten minutes later, he had the perfect sandwich.
"Look, Mama," he said, bringing the sandwich into the room where I was working. "Do you like it?" No sooner had he said that, then the plate slipped out of his hands. His perfect sandwich lay strewn about on the floor.
He didn't have much time to worry about it though, because a second later, our 100 pound German Shepherd, Schultz, came over and ate the perfect sandwich. (He obviously doesn't care about the five-second rule!)
Bubba looked at me with his mouth open.
"Well, Bubba," I said, "The good news is, your sandwich was indeed perfect, because Schultz gobbled it all up and didn't leave a single crumb!"
Good, I thought, Because now I'll have something to write about for the letter "p" in the A-Z challenge! "Okay, Bubba. Go for it."
He got out the bread. And the lunch meat. And the mayonnaise. And the onions. About ten minutes later, he had the perfect sandwich.
"Look, Mama," he said, bringing the sandwich into the room where I was working. "Do you like it?" No sooner had he said that, then the plate slipped out of his hands. His perfect sandwich lay strewn about on the floor.
He didn't have much time to worry about it though, because a second later, our 100 pound German Shepherd, Schultz, came over and ate the perfect sandwich. (He obviously doesn't care about the five-second rule!)
Bubba looked at me with his mouth open.
"Well, Bubba," I said, "The good news is, your sandwich was indeed perfect, because Schultz gobbled it all up and didn't leave a single crumb!"
April 17, 2014
Odoriferous Odors
Kids stink. Literally. When they're babies, it's spit up and poopy diapers. As they get older, it becomes grime and dirty socks. Not to mention teenage body odor. I cringe just thinking about what I'm going to smell in the next few years!
Two years ago, I noticed a particularly foul odor. It was coming from the laundry room. I searched in the washing machine. I searched in the dryer. I searched in the cracks and crevices behind the washer and dryer. But I couldn't find the culprit. Finally, I spotted my son's backpack. As soon as I unzipped it, I knew this was the source of the problem. I couldn't imagine what could possibly be causing it.
Of course, the backpack was completely stuffed with papers, books, and objects having little or nothing to do with school. It took a while to get to the bottom. But when I got there, I found a rotting peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It had to be at least two weeks old.
"Bubba," I called. "Why didn't you eat your lunch?"
I don't remember his excuse. But what I do remember, is that his retort was, "Mama, you should've cleaned my backpack. Then it wouldn't have had this putrid odor!"
Of course. It's always the Mama's fault!
Two years ago, I noticed a particularly foul odor. It was coming from the laundry room. I searched in the washing machine. I searched in the dryer. I searched in the cracks and crevices behind the washer and dryer. But I couldn't find the culprit. Finally, I spotted my son's backpack. As soon as I unzipped it, I knew this was the source of the problem. I couldn't imagine what could possibly be causing it.
Of course, the backpack was completely stuffed with papers, books, and objects having little or nothing to do with school. It took a while to get to the bottom. But when I got there, I found a rotting peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It had to be at least two weeks old.
"Bubba," I called. "Why didn't you eat your lunch?"
I don't remember his excuse. But what I do remember, is that his retort was, "Mama, you should've cleaned my backpack. Then it wouldn't have had this putrid odor!"
Of course. It's always the Mama's fault!
April 16, 2014
Neck Cramp
My son came home from school yesterday all proud of himself. "I was good today, Mama. Look! I even got a roach!" He held up a plastic orange and yellow beetle.
"Great, Bubba! What did you do that was so good?"
"I paid real close attention to my teacher."
I nodded. "You should do that every day."
He shook his head. "I don't think I can, Mama. I had to move my head everywhere she went to keep an eye on her. And now I have a neck cramp!"
"Great, Bubba! What did you do that was so good?"
"I paid real close attention to my teacher."
I nodded. "You should do that every day."
He shook his head. "I don't think I can, Mama. I had to move my head everywhere she went to keep an eye on her. And now I have a neck cramp!"
April 15, 2014
Mascara Mustache
The other day, my daughter had a sleepover with one of her friends. And as is usually the case, the girls got a little crazy. When my daughter came out of her room to ask me something, I hardly recognized her. Bright red lipstick, sloppily applied, covered her lips, making her look like a clown. She also wore heavy glitter eye shadow along with some odd, black markings scribbled on her face.
"What the heck did you do to your face?" I asked, hardly able to believe that the creature standing in front of me was my offspring.
"I made it look like a combination of Kei$ha and Taylor Swift. Don't I look like them?" (For those of you who are unfamiliar with these characters, they are pop music stars. Taylor likes to wear bright red lipstick, and Kei$ha - well, she's just about as odd as her name.)
"You bear a striking resemblance," I said. "But what's with the black mustache? Did you use a Sharpie marker on your face?"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "Mom, why would I use a Sharpie marker on my face? Everybody knows you use mascara to draw on your face!"
Right. Silly me. A mascara mustache!
"What the heck did you do to your face?" I asked, hardly able to believe that the creature standing in front of me was my offspring.
"I made it look like a combination of Kei$ha and Taylor Swift. Don't I look like them?" (For those of you who are unfamiliar with these characters, they are pop music stars. Taylor likes to wear bright red lipstick, and Kei$ha - well, she's just about as odd as her name.)
"You bear a striking resemblance," I said. "But what's with the black mustache? Did you use a Sharpie marker on your face?"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "Mom, why would I use a Sharpie marker on my face? Everybody knows you use mascara to draw on your face!"
Right. Silly me. A mascara mustache!
April 14, 2014
Lemonade Stand
Lemonade stands seem to be a part of just about every kid's childhood. It was no exception for my kids. When my daughter was five, she had her first one. We used a large cooler for the table, covered it with a tablecloth, and set up shop. Traffic was good on our street. Every time a car passed, my daughter would shout at the top of her little five-year-old voice, "Lemonade, lemonade! Come and get your ice-cold lemonade!"
And since people happened to be very nice in that neighborhood, they all stopped. Even the mailman, who was on a walking route, stopped. (We gave him a free one.) After an hour of being out in the hot summer sun, we poured the last cup and closed shop.
"How much money did we make, Mom?" my daughter asked when we came back in the house.
I counted the coins. "Twenty-one dollars and twenty-five cents!"
At twenty-five cents a cup, I'd say that was the best we ever did, and it was an experience neither of us will ever forget!
(Now my son sets up lemonade stands. The sales aren't as good as they were for my daughter almost ten years ago. He has to get resourceful by going around to the neighbor's houses and ringing their doorbells. I guess times have changed!)
And since people happened to be very nice in that neighborhood, they all stopped. Even the mailman, who was on a walking route, stopped. (We gave him a free one.) After an hour of being out in the hot summer sun, we poured the last cup and closed shop.
"How much money did we make, Mom?" my daughter asked when we came back in the house.
I counted the coins. "Twenty-one dollars and twenty-five cents!"
At twenty-five cents a cup, I'd say that was the best we ever did, and it was an experience neither of us will ever forget!
(Now my son sets up lemonade stands. The sales aren't as good as they were for my daughter almost ten years ago. He has to get resourceful by going around to the neighbor's houses and ringing their doorbells. I guess times have changed!)
April 12, 2014
Kitchen Music
The other day, my daughter and I were making cookies. My daughter was in charge of operating the mixer. She began at a low speed and then moved up to a higher speed. In the process, she started a little rhythm. She played around with it and started bobbing her head.
Hmm. I thought. This could get interesting. I grabbed a wooden spoon and started my own rhythm on the mixing bowl. We had a real groove going.
Then my son came in. Of course he wanted to get in on the action, so he grabbed a couple of stainless steel spoons and started clanging them together. It was complete cacophony.
"Bubba, what are you doing?" my daughter asked.
"Same thing you are," he said. "Making noise!"
Hmm. I thought. This could get interesting. I grabbed a wooden spoon and started my own rhythm on the mixing bowl. We had a real groove going.
Then my son came in. Of course he wanted to get in on the action, so he grabbed a couple of stainless steel spoons and started clanging them together. It was complete cacophony.
"Bubba, what are you doing?" my daughter asked.
"Same thing you are," he said. "Making noise!"
