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Overheard Conversations

I’ve never claimed to be normal. Anyone who says I have is just a liar. And I’ve never claimed to have a normal household.

My daughter and I have quite a few interesting conversations…even fascinating ones…often at quite a loud decibel level since we’re a loud house regardless of what we’re doing.

Sometimes, I wonder just what the neighbors must think when my windows are wide open and our voices carry over to their houses on the clear, still air.

For example, we have a dog, and we have quite a few adventures with this dog, Petra. If our one neighbor’s windows were open, they surely heard this conversation one evening because it was really sort of loud and fraught with hilarious exasperation on Sarah’s part—and I’m sure it threw them for a loop:

“Stop putting the dog on my face, I’m trying to sleep!  You’re supposed to be the adult here, you know!”

You see, in reality, it’s not always just children who try to be annoying. There. I admit it. But it did eventually make Sarah laugh, and that was the main point of it all.

“What have I told you about letting the dog sleep in my pillow? “
“But she likes to sleep in pillowcases, you know that.”
“Then let her sleep in yours.”
“Ewww, no, I don’t want her in my pillow.”

That’s what daughters are for, don’t you think, to let a burrowing dog sleep in her pillowcase so said dog won’t sleep in yours? But apparently not my daughter. Oh no, not mine. She cares enough about the dog to want her to have a pillowcase to burrow in, just not her pillowcase. Go figure.

My daughter is very analytical, yet strangely compassionate, even when it comes to finding ways to fall asleep.

“I can’t count sheep to go sleep – cause then I wonder where the sheep are.  Are they just living with some farmer, in which case he’s going to need money eventually and then he’s going to have to sell those sheep to slaughter, which is messed up.

Or do those sheep live in some existential plane and just in emptiness in which case that’s just depressing. Too depressing to go to sleep.  I mean really, where are the poor sheep!?  They’re jumping over a fence, is the fence the bridge between life and death? Are the sheep dying!?  If I count them, do they die?? That’s a lot of power for one person to have.

Or is counting sheep just symbolic of the wasted years of our lives, the years we waste going to sleep? Are they really just counting the seconds passing to our inevitable death, our inevitable demise. Talk about depressing, that’s even more depressing than thinking about sheep being slaughtered. Although maybe not. Sheep getting slaughtered is pretty darn depressing.”

My well thought out and heartfelt response to these types of existential questions:

 “Sarah, just shut the hell up and go to sleep.”

We had this following conversation a couple of days before school ended last week. Admittedly I was frustrated with the topic, so I was a bit loud when this nonsensical sentence came flying out my mouth.  Even at the time a part of me was wondering what the neighbors would think if they heard this:

“If you don’t want to throw eggs, then don’t throw eggs.  I don’t care what the teacher says.”

I’ll explain further – Sarah’s Honors Chemistry teacher, at a time when eggs are at their most expensive in our area, decided that the students should each bring in a dozen eggs to simply fling at each other during class.

Sometimes my daughter brings up things that I simply don’t understand. These encounters always leave me shaking my head and questioning my sanity.

“I know you don’t like onions. No, there are no onions in the tuna fish salad. You just watched me make it. Did you see me put onions in the tuna fish salad? I rest my case then.”

Or:

No, I don’t usually go around spitting into random bottles of water that I find lying about the house (in response to: “is there anything wrong with this water?”)

And then there’s the case of….the socks. Some people have sock monsters who make off with their socks, or dryers that eat them  I, on the other hand, have Sarah:

“In the name of everything that is holy, why is there just one sock strewn about in every single room of the house?”
“My feet get hot so I take my socks off.”
“But…but…where are the other socks?”
“I don’t know.”

It’s a myth that only guys argue about the powers of superheroes and what they can and cannot do.

Sarah and I recently had this debate in a game of “would you rather:”

 ‘If you had to pick, would you rather freeze people or blow them up a la Piper Halliwell?’
“If you can freeze people, you can walk into banks undetected.  But if you can blow people up, it wouldn’t matter, you could do what you wanted.”
“She could do both, why can’t I do both, why do I have to choose!? Why do you always have to make everything so difficult!? I don’t see why I can’t just do both. Jeez.”

I’ll leave it up to ya’ll as to which one was the adult and which one was the child in that conversation.

And then there’s my daughter’s refreshing attitude toward the afterlife.  I think we’re going to be haunting people…because I mean hey, haunting people would be fun, right?

“I can’t wait until we’re dead and we’re haunting places together and I have all of eternity to tell you ‘I told you so,’ because we’re not just dirt in the ground somewhere and I’m gonna be like ‘Hey look, we’re scaring the bejeebies out of these people because I was right and you were wrong, we’re not just dirt’ and ‘Oooo look, we’re floating through walls cause I was right and you were wrong…told you so, nah nah …’ You’ll have to hang out with me for like eons. See what you have to look forward to?”

 “Nope. Cause I’m gonna be dirt.”

When you have cats in the house, you can’t help but think of the important questions. I can only imagine what someone, someone sane that is, would think of this issue recently discussed round our dinner table:

“Do you think cats know what Capitalism is?”
“I bet they’re Socialists.”

There you have it. A brief look into our mindset and the little snippets of accompanying dialogue. Now don’t you wish you were a fly on our wall to catch some of the really good stuff? Although you’re likely to buzz off shaking your little fly head.

 

not normal

 

 

Freestyle Writing Challenge

So my friend Mark Bialczak tagged me in a challenge which I’d been ignoring until last night.  The reason I was ignoring it was not because I didn’t want to participate , but rather because (reading thru the rules) I realized it was a challenge you had to start immediately and I knew I had to choose a time when I could do that…so.  I was good and didn’t cheat (per the rules) even though it was verrryyy difficult not to do so (sort of like not peeking at Christmas presents when they’re right there for the peeking) and waited until I had the time to actually do the challenge to finish reading through to the end.  By the way, thanks Mark for that little ethics test…thought I was done with that sort of thing when I failed finished Weight Watchers and somehow managed to get through the aforementioned Christmas season with the tape still intact on the presents…

Anywho… Mark had the word Anarchy prior to passing on the torch to me and two other bloggers.

The Rules:

– Open an MS Word document.

– Set a stop watch or your mobile to 5 minutes or 10 minutes whichever challenge you think you can beat.

– You topic is at the foot of this post BUT DO NOT SCROLL DOWN TO SEE IT UNTIL YOU ARE READY WITH A TIMER.

– Fill the word doc with as many words as you want.

– Once you began writing do not stop even to turn.

– Do not cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check in MS WORD (it is only meant for you to reflect on your own control of sensible thought flow and for you to reflect on your ability to write the right spelling and stick to grammar rules)

– You may or may not pay attention to punctuation and CAPITALS.

– However if you do, it would be best. At the end of your post write down ‘No. of words =_____’ so that we have an idea of how much you can write within the time frame.

– Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new Topic for your nominees and copy paste these rules with your nominations (at least 3 bloggers).

I chose TEN minutes. And the word I had to work with was: Hyperventilate.  However, I didn’t take ten minutes – my train of thought stopped short of the station by a couple of minutes.  Not sure if that’s breaking the rules or not, but it couldn’t be helped. My thought process just…ended where it ended.

Breathe

Hyperventilate

Sitting here, munching on cheese and crackers and watching Penny Dreadful, it comes to me that I haven’t been truly alone (without a live-in significant other or husband) since I was 19 years old. Good grief.

At times since my marriage ended this past year, when I’ve thought about my situation, I’ve begun to hyperventilate…thinking about what the future holds and what path I should take… this one or that one.

Then I calm down, because really, this is an exciting time – a jumping off point for the rest of my life.

And, I remind myself, first off, I’m not completely alone. I have my kids and they mean the world to me. And yeah, sometimes they cause me to hyperventilate too – BUT they are the best things to ever happen to me. Hands down.

So now here I am pondering the word hyperventilate and what it means, as I’m eating my cheese and crackers and wondering (not irrelevantly) just when is Mr. Chandler going to turn into a werewolf again because it was pretty cool the last time.  So we’ve got the word hyper, which means over- excited or keyed up, and ventilate which means to receive fresh air.

While the unknown is scary, I’m still really excited about this new life and all the fresh air that I’ll be getting – the new things I’ll be doing, the old issues I won’t ever have to endure again, things like that.

I just have to remember to breathe!  And save my tendency to hyperventilate for the likes of Mr. Chandler.

Number of Words: 263

So now I challenge my friends:

https://lolsyslibrary.wordpress.com/

https://gigisrantsandraves.wordpress.com/

http://pauljwillett.com/

And if you accept, your word is: Golden