Monday, September 27, 2010

Huddersfield Ben

I took one of those tests that tell you what professions would be good for you and it recommended that I become a Funeral Director.  I looked up some positions.  The job description says “at all times, exhibit indisputable integrity, the highest degree of tact and sensitivity…. And be able to lift 75 pounds.”  As Arda would say, “Seems hard, Lucas, I don’t think I want to do that.  That’s why I play Guitar.” 

Apparently, local Yorktown Police were called in when a Coyote was spotted at Ben Franklin Elementary School (my alma mater). Here is the full official story  When Evivova asked Maureen if it was true she said, “yeahh - Kevin was upset that they had to go in and said that he thought the kid that said he saw it, just said that because the kid didn't want to stay outside and then they all had to pay for it and go inside. He's not happy with that kid. :)”

I asked Jen if she would be willing to donate blood with us.  She said, “I’m only giving blood if Vampire Bill sucks it directly from my thigh.  You should tell Jordan the last time I gave blood was at WizKids.”   When I told Jordan, he wondered if she was implying that he was a bloodsucker (and not the good kind.) 

I had lunch with grizzled veteran game designer Mike Mulvihill and he was telling me that his youngest daughter Vivian (soon to be 7) was watching TV with him the other day on the couch.  As he kept nudging her trying to knock her on to the floor she finally rolled off and turned to him saying “Will you stop being related to me already?” 

I’m a bit of a failure.  As I was attempting to teach Nala (the puppy) a few key things (like bringing me a toy so that I will play with her without getting my fingers nipped and not peeing on the floor) I realized that I was not so good at this training bit.  When, exactly, did I figure this out?  Well I had been explaining (yes Momela, Mo, et al. I was explaining… that always works) that peeing on the floor was bad and I kept putting her on her potty pad in the circle cage when she made a mistake.  I had gone to the dog park, Nala totally had fun. Tiffany met some nice people. We came back. We played.  Then I had to get back to work and Nala looked at the cage, walked past the entrance and potty pad, looked at me, peed, and then walked back into her cage.  Basically, she gets the part where she has to go back into the cage after she has an accident—or not so accident—but she also knows that she gets my attention.  Perfect. 

(On a side note, my “explanations” are quite common with children as well, which, I am told, might not be the best way to communicate.  I also would like it known that I’m the cool fun Aunt… not the mom (with the children and with baby girl Nala.)  I like to indulge and then return with little to no yelling, enforcing of rules or really saying no if I can help it.  It might be the only thing that I’ve “explained” and that they have all really understood.) 

I overheard Lucas and his friends talking the other day about various hair products.  When I told him later that I thought that that was amusing he said, “Why? We talk about hair a lot.  And Jeans.  Levi’s mostly.  I’d say that takes up the majority of our every day conversation.”   I had no idea.  I wonder what would happen if 14 year old girls knew that 14 year old boys had so much in common with them?   I hope I didn’t just cause a major rift in the world as we know it.   That would be awkward. 

My friend Seth had a bit of a “Scotchtober” on Saturday.  I might have accidently ruined it by bringing homemade Bailey’s as he was trying to unload his over-abundance of Scotch in the house.  Whoops.  There were some old friends there that I don’t get to see very often and it’s a damn shame b/c they are hilarious.  There were many stories… but I’ll just tell you 1 so that I have something to say to you if and when we ever hang out again.  I don’t remember how it got started but everyone was telling funny stories that incorporated complaining about their mother’s in some way.  (Don’t worry Momela, I don’t have any complaints about you to share.)  But we were going around the room, one-by-one, topping each other with more hilarious acts that our mom’s had done when there was an ever so slight pause and Mike Mulvihill jumped in and said “Ya well, My mom is dead.”  Oh and how I laughed. 

Sunday morning Luke and I woke up (go us!) and by 9 am we had already made homemade vanilla wafers (breakfast of champions!)  The directions said to roll the dough into the size of chocolate chips (and that it made 382 cookies…approximately.)  I, not one to follow directions very well, made mine the size of Nilla wafers.  I segregated our cookies by size, labeled each plate with our names (and one Post-It with a “Nilla®” on the Nilla wafer box b/c I’m a brat) and then asked people to tell us which tasted better.  Currently Luke’s plate is empty and mine is not.  I like to think its b/c I didn’t shove my face with cookies, but I don’t even think that’s true. 

Oh… so Luke looked up whom the first Yorkie was.  His name was Huddersfield Ben who was run over by a carriage at age 6 and died.  This is sad but also crazy to know that someone gave such a long and impressive name to such a teeny tiny dog.

I asked Luke what his plans were after our trip to Guitar Center.  I almost swerved the car when I heard him say “sit ups” b/c I know that he’s never done one of those before.  So we tried a lil Ab Ripper X—I emphasize “lil” b/c instead of the required 349 sit-ups I think Luke did around 10 –maybe—and then said that’s more exercise than I have done in my whole life and begged me to shut it off.  Meanwhile, as I was doing the exercises Nala thought it would be a good idea to grab onto the bottom of my pants so at any given time I had an extra two pounds to lift.  She also decided to run under me if I lifted my back off the ground to which Luke took a break from moaning to say “whoa that was almost a “Huddersfield Ben”.  We think it might be the new "hip"catch-phrase.

1 comment:

  1. What kind of funeral director only has to lift 75 pounds? Maybe the job description was for a pet cemetary funeral director....

    Oh, and thanks for coming over on Saturday with your magical wonder drink. Don't worry about the scotch. We'll use it up during riot season.