Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 60
April 11, 2014
Jokers
In case you haven't figured it out, there's a lot of silliness that goes on at my place. My kids (and husband) are a bunch of jokers. Here's a story from about three years ago that happened on April Fools Day.
My kids had the brilliant idea to pull a prank on our neighbors. "Do you have empty boxes and packaging tape?" my son asked.
"Why?" I asked, growing suspicious.
"You'll see."
My son and daughter wrapped four empty boxes with packaging tape and affixed a label with my neighbor's address on it. Then they marched over to my neighbor's house, dropped the "packages" in front of her door, rang the doorbell and took off.
I just shook my head. I would've liked to have seen my neighbor's face after opening up that special delivery!
My kids had the brilliant idea to pull a prank on our neighbors. "Do you have empty boxes and packaging tape?" my son asked.
"Why?" I asked, growing suspicious.
"You'll see."
My son and daughter wrapped four empty boxes with packaging tape and affixed a label with my neighbor's address on it. Then they marched over to my neighbor's house, dropped the "packages" in front of her door, rang the doorbell and took off.
I just shook my head. I would've liked to have seen my neighbor's face after opening up that special delivery!
April 10, 2014
I Spy
One of my kids' favorite games to play when we're trying to pass time, is "I Spy." For those not familiar with it, what happens, is one person says, "I spy something yellow." (Or blue, or round, or soft, etc.) And the other person has to look around and figure out what it is.
Yesterday, my son and I were at the doctor's office. And as usually is the case, the doctor was running late. So we began a game of "I Spy."
We did a few rounds. Then it was my son's turn, again. "I spy something orange."
I looked around. The only orange things I saw were the orange dots on the carpet. "The orange spots on the carpet," I said.
"Which one?" he asked.
"What do you mean, which one? There are thousands here!"
"Guess which one!"
I pointed to several on the floor around us. None of them were it. Finally I gave up. "Which one is it?" I asked.
"The one under your shoe!"
I lifted my foot.
"That one," he said, pointing to an orange dot that had been under my foot the entire time.
"Wait a minute," I said. "You could not have possibly spied that particular spot, because it wasn't in your field of vision!"
"But Mama, I have X-ray vision. I can see everything - even if it's under your foot!"
Yesterday, my son and I were at the doctor's office. And as usually is the case, the doctor was running late. So we began a game of "I Spy."
We did a few rounds. Then it was my son's turn, again. "I spy something orange."
I looked around. The only orange things I saw were the orange dots on the carpet. "The orange spots on the carpet," I said.
"Which one?" he asked.
"What do you mean, which one? There are thousands here!"
"Guess which one!"
I pointed to several on the floor around us. None of them were it. Finally I gave up. "Which one is it?" I asked.
"The one under your shoe!"
I lifted my foot.
"That one," he said, pointing to an orange dot that had been under my foot the entire time.
"Wait a minute," I said. "You could not have possibly spied that particular spot, because it wasn't in your field of vision!"
"But Mama, I have X-ray vision. I can see everything - even if it's under your foot!"
April 9, 2014
Humpty Dumpty
This story goes back to when my daughter was about three years old - more than ten years ago. Ancient history. I used to read my kids nursery rhymes when they were that age, so of course they knew all about Little Miss Muffet, Little Boy Blue, and Humpty Dumpty.
My daughter had a particular affinity to Humpty Dumpty. Perhaps it was because of her stuffed Humpty Dumpty which she slept with every night. Anyway, she was not very happy when she learned that Humpty fell off a wall and could not be repaired.
One day, as she was driving with her grandparents and discussing the plight of Humpty, she burst into tears.
"What's wrong?" Grandpa asked. "Humpty isn't real. It's just a story."
"But Grandpa, he is real. And nobody ever called 911. They just left him there to die."
Poor Humpty!
My daughter had a particular affinity to Humpty Dumpty. Perhaps it was because of her stuffed Humpty Dumpty which she slept with every night. Anyway, she was not very happy when she learned that Humpty fell off a wall and could not be repaired.
One day, as she was driving with her grandparents and discussing the plight of Humpty, she burst into tears.
"What's wrong?" Grandpa asked. "Humpty isn't real. It's just a story."
"But Grandpa, he is real. And nobody ever called 911. They just left him there to die."
Poor Humpty!
April 8, 2014
Grass Fire
A few days ago, I smelled smoke. My kids did, too. "Mama, what's that smell?"
I didn't see anything in the house, so I went outside. The entire neighborhood was enveloped in a shroud of smoke. And it smelled awful. It seemed my neighbor's house was the culprit. Smoke billowed out from their backyard.
"Mom, their house is on fire!" my son yelled.
I wasn't sure if their house was on fire, or if there was something completely out of control going on back there. But I did what most sane people would do. I called 911.
The firetrucks arrived, along with a squadron of police cars and an ambulance. Apparently a few other neighbors were concerned, and did the same thing as me.
The firefighters went behind the neighbor's house to investigate. About ten minutes later, they came back and hooked up their hoses to the fire hydrant. Then they marched back to soak down whatever was causing the smoke.
When they were finished, my husband went out to ask the firemen what had happened.
"They were burning grass," one of the firemen said. "It just produced a ridiculous amount of smoke."
Now here's the weird part of the story. Apparently, grass burning is quite common here in Georgia. I'm not talking a pile of grass clippings. I'm talking an entire yard of planted Bermuda grass. As you walk around the neighborhoods here, you will see blackened yards. I thought at first it was dirt or some kind of odd fertilizer that people were putting down. But no. They literally set their yards on fire to make the grass black. Why? Because they think setting their grass on fire will make their grass greener when it comes back.
Haven't these people heard of aeration or fertilizer? They'd rather set the whole neighborhood on fire? This Yankee doesn't get it. All I have to say is, Oy Gewalt!
Before I leave, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who visited epublishing blog where I am a guest. Thank you for sharing the article (if you haven't seen it, it's still up). I know you're all busy with the A-Z challenge, so it means a lot that you took the time to hop over there! You're awesome!
I didn't see anything in the house, so I went outside. The entire neighborhood was enveloped in a shroud of smoke. And it smelled awful. It seemed my neighbor's house was the culprit. Smoke billowed out from their backyard.
"Mom, their house is on fire!" my son yelled.
I wasn't sure if their house was on fire, or if there was something completely out of control going on back there. But I did what most sane people would do. I called 911.
The firetrucks arrived, along with a squadron of police cars and an ambulance. Apparently a few other neighbors were concerned, and did the same thing as me.
The firefighters went behind the neighbor's house to investigate. About ten minutes later, they came back and hooked up their hoses to the fire hydrant. Then they marched back to soak down whatever was causing the smoke.
When they were finished, my husband went out to ask the firemen what had happened.
"They were burning grass," one of the firemen said. "It just produced a ridiculous amount of smoke."
Now here's the weird part of the story. Apparently, grass burning is quite common here in Georgia. I'm not talking a pile of grass clippings. I'm talking an entire yard of planted Bermuda grass. As you walk around the neighborhoods here, you will see blackened yards. I thought at first it was dirt or some kind of odd fertilizer that people were putting down. But no. They literally set their yards on fire to make the grass black. Why? Because they think setting their grass on fire will make their grass greener when it comes back.
Haven't these people heard of aeration or fertilizer? They'd rather set the whole neighborhood on fire? This Yankee doesn't get it. All I have to say is, Oy Gewalt!
Before I leave, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who visited epublishing blog where I am a guest. Thank you for sharing the article (if you haven't seen it, it's still up). I know you're all busy with the A-Z challenge, so it means a lot that you took the time to hop over there! You're awesome!
April 7, 2014
Fiesta Funnies and Guest Blog Post
Before I share the story, I'd like to let you all know that I'm a guest over at the epublishing blog, talking about why it's important to read to kids. Please stop by and visit! (I was told that there's a contest going on this month, too, where the guest author that gets the most shares will win a free animated version of their book, so if you wouldn't mind sharing the article when you get over there, I'd appreciate it!)
Now here's the story. My daughter came home from school the other day, and I swear, it was just like she had drank a two-liter bottle of giggle juice. She could not stop laughing. Everything I said, she thought was the funniest thing in the world.
"Girl," I said. "I might be funny, but I know I'm not that funny!"
She laughed so hard, tears were coming out of her eyes.
I gave her the Mom squinty-eye look. "What happened in school today?"
"We had a fiesta."
"A fiesta?" I asked. I knew some light was about to be shed on this situation. "Tell me about your fiesta."
"There was lots of food. Waffles with whipped cream. Waffles with chocolate sauce. Candy. Doughnuts. And some nachos with salsa."
I nodded. The picture was becoming clearer. "And how much of this fiesta food did you have?"
"Um....." I could tell she was deliberating on how much to reveal. "Three waffles, one doughnut, and a couple of pieces of candy."
I raised my eyebrows, to which she had another giggle fit. "But Mom, I was hungry!"
Now here's the story. My daughter came home from school the other day, and I swear, it was just like she had drank a two-liter bottle of giggle juice. She could not stop laughing. Everything I said, she thought was the funniest thing in the world.
"Girl," I said. "I might be funny, but I know I'm not that funny!"
She laughed so hard, tears were coming out of her eyes.
I gave her the Mom squinty-eye look. "What happened in school today?"
"We had a fiesta."
"A fiesta?" I asked. I knew some light was about to be shed on this situation. "Tell me about your fiesta."
"There was lots of food. Waffles with whipped cream. Waffles with chocolate sauce. Candy. Doughnuts. And some nachos with salsa."
I nodded. The picture was becoming clearer. "And how much of this fiesta food did you have?"
"Um....." I could tell she was deliberating on how much to reveal. "Three waffles, one doughnut, and a couple of pieces of candy."
I raised my eyebrows, to which she had another giggle fit. "But Mom, I was hungry!"
April 5, 2014
Exciting Experiment
At my house, there are always lots of experiments going on. You may recall the chemistry set experiment that made my son so nervous, that he felt compelled to bring out the fire extinguisher. Well, the prize for the most exciting experiment that has ever gone on at my house goes to one my husband and son did a couple of years ago. It involved a two liter bottle of Coke and a roll of Mentos.
I watched as my husband and boy went out to the backyard armed with these two items. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"
My husband grinned as he opened the bottle of Coke. I watched in disbelief as he put not one, not two, but the entire roll of Mentos in with the Coke.
"Fire in the hole!" he yelled.
Let me just say, I have never seen a geyser of Coke like the geyser of Coke I saw on that day! It nearly reached the top of the very large tree it was near.
"That was awesome!" my son said, clearly impressed. "Can we do it again?"
Right.
I watched as my husband and boy went out to the backyard armed with these two items. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"
My husband grinned as he opened the bottle of Coke. I watched in disbelief as he put not one, not two, but the entire roll of Mentos in with the Coke.
"Fire in the hole!" he yelled.
Let me just say, I have never seen a geyser of Coke like the geyser of Coke I saw on that day! It nearly reached the top of the very large tree it was near.
"That was awesome!" my son said, clearly impressed. "Can we do it again?"
Right.
April 4, 2014
Dancing Mama
About a year ago, I had to take my daughter to a dance competition. Since the venue was a considerable distance from our home, we spent the night at a hotel.
My daughter turned on the television and immediately found the music video channel. The song that was playing was, Eye of the Hurricane, which I happen to like. So what did I do? I got up and started dancing - in my pajamas.
My daughter stared at me. When I was done, she shook her head. "Mom, you're really embarrassing me, and there's not even anyone else in the room!"
"Yeah, I know," I said. "Just doing my job!"
My daughter turned on the television and immediately found the music video channel. The song that was playing was, Eye of the Hurricane, which I happen to like. So what did I do? I got up and started dancing - in my pajamas.
My daughter stared at me. When I was done, she shook her head. "Mom, you're really embarrassing me, and there's not even anyone else in the room!"
"Yeah, I know," I said. "Just doing my job!"
April 3, 2014
Chicken Poo
It was my son's fifth birthday. We decided to have a big birthday party for him - at a farm. All his friends were invited to come pet cute bunny rabbits, and milk goats. Also on the list of things to do, was collect chicken eggs. The farmer led the stalwart crew to the chicken coup where lots of hens were sitting around laying eggs. It just so happened that some of those eggs had hatched into fluffy chicks.
"Aww," all the kids said. "Can we pet them?"
"Tell you what," said the farmer. "I'll let each of you wear a chicken party hat. Stay real still, and I'll put one on your head. Birthday boy is first."
My boy went up and stood in front while the farmer took a little red chick and put it on his head. Unfortunately, the little red chick was not wearing a diaper. Two seconds after he was placed on Bubba's head, he took a little dump.
Needless to say, the birthday boy was not very happy. And needless to say, nobody else wanted a chicken party hat!
"Aww," all the kids said. "Can we pet them?"
"Tell you what," said the farmer. "I'll let each of you wear a chicken party hat. Stay real still, and I'll put one on your head. Birthday boy is first."
My boy went up and stood in front while the farmer took a little red chick and put it on his head. Unfortunately, the little red chick was not wearing a diaper. Two seconds after he was placed on Bubba's head, he took a little dump.
Needless to say, the birthday boy was not very happy. And needless to say, nobody else wanted a chicken party hat!
April 2, 2014
Bologna Faces
Kids like to play with food. It's inevitable. I can't tell you how many milk bubbles I've seen in my life as a mom! A couple of years ago, my kids were sitting at the kitchen table having lunch. A bologna sandwich was sitting in front of them. I watched as my son took out the slice of bologna and poked a hole through it with his finger.
"What are you doing, Bubba?" I asked.
"You'll see." He poked another hole across from the first. Then he poked another. When he was done, he held it up to his face. "How do you like my bologna face, Mama?"
I shook my head. "Nice, Bubba."
My daughter thought that was an excellent idea, too, so she made a bologna face. Soon both of my offspring were sporting bologna faces.
"You kids are full of bologna!" I said.
"No, we're not," my son said. Then he ate his bologna face. "But now I am!"
"What are you doing, Bubba?" I asked.
"You'll see." He poked another hole across from the first. Then he poked another. When he was done, he held it up to his face. "How do you like my bologna face, Mama?"
I shook my head. "Nice, Bubba."
My daughter thought that was an excellent idea, too, so she made a bologna face. Soon both of my offspring were sporting bologna faces.
"You kids are full of bologna!" I said.
"No, we're not," my son said. Then he ate his bologna face. "But now I am!"
April 1, 2014
Ants in the Pants
Welcome to the A-Z Challenge! Every day, except Sundays, I will do a post featuring each letter of the alphabet. Most of these posts will be stories of things that have happened in the past. But once in a while, if it works out, I'll do a current story.
Today letter, A, is about Ants. Three years ago, my son, who was six, decided it would be great fun to dig up a red ant nest. The ants did not think that was a good idea, so they crawled in his pants and caused a whole lot of trouble!
I was in the kitchen when I heard the screaming.
"Mama, help!!!!!"
I ran into the garage and found my boy frantically trying to get ants off of his legs.
"Get out of your clothes!" I ordered. The ants were all over his shorts, shirt, shoes, and socks.
He quickly obliged and ran into the house. Meanwhile, this Mama waged war against the little red varmints. I got out a can of Raid and put an end to their lives.
Now we have a little understanding with the ants. My boy won't mess with them and they won't mess with us. Otherwise they'll face the wrath of the Queen Mama!
Today letter, A, is about Ants. Three years ago, my son, who was six, decided it would be great fun to dig up a red ant nest. The ants did not think that was a good idea, so they crawled in his pants and caused a whole lot of trouble!
I was in the kitchen when I heard the screaming.
"Mama, help!!!!!"
I ran into the garage and found my boy frantically trying to get ants off of his legs.
"Get out of your clothes!" I ordered. The ants were all over his shorts, shirt, shoes, and socks.
He quickly obliged and ran into the house. Meanwhile, this Mama waged war against the little red varmints. I got out a can of Raid and put an end to their lives.
Now we have a little understanding with the ants. My boy won't mess with them and they won't mess with us. Otherwise they'll face the wrath of the Queen Mama!
