I had quite the encounter this week at work. It was love at first site. No, my husband shouldn’t be concerned, well maybe a little.
The door opened mysteriously. I didn’t see anyone at first, but then a tiny hand appeared on the window. I had to get up and look down to realize the cutest little boy trying to get my attention.
When I opened the window, I was greeted by, “Hi, my name is Merrick, my birthday is January 13th, and I’m 5 years old. He really did have me at hello.
He presented himself with purpose and eyelashes for miles, quickly capturing my attention.
Considering his excess energy, we had the pleasure of keeping him busy while his mother was taking care of business. A dream come true for me.
It turned out that little Merrick is an aspiring entertainer, stand-up comedian to be exact, and he hit the jackpot because I am the perfect audience.
The show started after we drew a dinosaur and colored it with what I thought was a green crayon. However, I was corrected and informed that it was, in fact, asparagus, followed by an introduction to the spinach and celery crayons in the box. Alrighty then …
Showtime for me began when he signed our artwork with “Poop” in all capital letters. I asked, “Is Poop your artistic alter ego?” I don’t think he heard anything other than “poop.” Unless the big laugh that followed was a yes.
Boys and the joy they get from saying, writing, and hearing the word poop remains a mystery.
Once he started his set of knock, knock jokes, there was no stopping him. At one point, I thought I was watching a blooper reel. He could not keep it together to deliver the punchline, but in reality, that was the best part of the show. Robin Williams reincarnated.
I’ll leave you with one he closed the show with before his mother came to collect him.
What are you, an owl? Falling off the chair, grasping for air from laughing.
Merrick was much more than an aspiring comedian; he was a reminder that life is too short not to stop and appreciate the joyful innocence of a knock, knock joke,
Enjoy the Ride!
I just finished a book at record speed. Why? Well, because it grabbed my attention from page one, and I couldn’t get enough. The title is “The Day John Died” by Christopher Anderson. John, as in, John Kennedy, Jr.
First, the story grabbed me because I, and anyone with eyes in my age group, had a crush on John. He was like your forbidden best friend’s older brother crush. You don’t have a chance, but it’s fun to gaze.
Secondly, I had no idea that John was “a spirited boy” or in today’s terms probably had a little ADHD going on. I prefer spirited boy.
Oh, how do I know this? Well, because I raised one as well, just not in the public eye.
John’s early days in the White House were described as “active” and “curious.” Running the halls like he owned the place and asking any adult, including Secret Service agents, every question a toddler could wrangle up. Yup, he’s spirited all right.
I’m not going to lie here. I was getting envious thinking of Jackie’s help in handling her handful. I know I could have used a couple of agents and a Nanny during those primitive years.
I imagined meeting Jackie at a parent-teacher conference, realizing we were in the same boat. FYI: My boat is a raft and hers a yacht.
Throughout my son’s education, it was obvious that the mothers of these little spirits also magnetize towards each other, and remain lifelong friends. The cry for help must be written all over our faces.
There are two scenarios: Jackie and I would have been best friends, or I would have been served with a restraining order. It could go either way, but I’m leaning towards friends. I know me, and I know I would be starstruck, so there are no guarantees.
On one of our many playdates at the park, we could discuss the need to have our colorist on speed dial to touch up the never-ending grays caused by the shenanigans of our little overactive, curious but lovable boys. A girl can dream.
As everyone knows, Jackie was very protective over John, and rightfully so, considering the circumstances surrounding him at every corner. Still, her protection from the many, many Mrs. Kennedy wannabes had me dreaming of landlines. You go, Jackie!
One of the perks in raising a child in the ’70s was the ability to screen their calls, and Jackie had no problem telling an unfamiliar female voice, “I’m sorry he’s not here right now.”
Unfortunately for me, my little spirit was born into a world of cell phones and the knowledge to press charges for invasion of privacy if I even tried such a move.
Of course, this story is all in jest. I would never have been in the same circle as my girl Jackie, nor would I ever be screening my son’s calls, hmm, well maybe, but I found it very interesting through the words of Christopher Anderson that our sons, had such similar spirit and curiosity. Just another reason for me to love Jackie.
Enjoy the Ride!
The other day I was walking through Target looking for another hundred things to purchase aside from what I actually needed when I overheard a mother/daughter interaction.
The mother was walking ahead of the daughter, who could not have been more than 4 years old. Her micro fashion was on point, and her pink sparkle purse did not disappoint.
Mother: Maddie, keep up you are too far behind.
Maddie: I know. I’m really slacking today. This is what got my attention. How doe she know the term slacking? She’s just a peanut!
Mother: You sure are slacking.
Maddie: Mommy! You’re not supposed to agree with me.
Mother: Well, you’re not keeping up with me today.
Maddie: I know that, but you’re supposed to tell me it’s ok that I’m slacking.
Mother: It’s not ok.
Maddie: I know that, but I don’t want you to say it because I already know it.
Me: Good luck.
This made me take pause. What was I doing at Maddie’s age? Probably eating dirt or glue.
Not looking like a miniature rock star that’s for sure. I just wore what my sister wore but in a different color.
Not using words like slacking. I don’t think it was in the dictionary yet.
Not having an adult conversation with my mother in the middle of a store. I did not speak adult at age 4, and we did not go to stores.
Honestly, I don’t think I could handle the likes of Maddie in my house. It was hard enough trying to control real children, let alone a micro adult. Yes, Maddie, once upon a time, in the United States of America, kids were second-class citizens, and they were all the better because of their status.
Without sounding like a complete fart who thinks things were better “back in the day,” I’m going to go out on a rooftop to scream it loud and clear today.
Parents need to take a step back to realize that their only function is to raise their youngins to be solid citizens. Not superheroes.
They don’t have to be the best student or athlete. They do not need to be micro adults. They do not need to be held up on a pedestal 24/7. It’s “ok” to be second.
They just need to be a benefit to the world, and believe it or not there is a straightforward lesson plan. Consistently treat others the way you want to be treated. Bam! Mission accomplished.
Now, let me go find that rooftop before the Maddie’s of the world take over.
Enjoy the Ride!
Today I am here to bitch and complain about a couple that have been driving me absolutely batty for some time now. Please let me introduce you to Politics and Religion. Not that anyone really needs an introduction at this point…they get around.
However, I’m sure you know them by their more popular names such as the Buzz Killers, Room Clearers, Fun Suckers and of course the old school … Party Poopers.
At this point in our lives I think its safe to say that we are all aware of the huge invisible SKULL & CROSSBONES displayed at the entrance to all public gatherings warning us of these two. So, unless you are prepared for a full on debate, that could potentially turn into a scene from the Fight Club, you must heed to the warning and avoid these two like a plague. People are on the brink of cray these days.
Sadly, thanks to technology, we now have the displeasure of facing these two in the comfort of our own homes. I know when I open my dear friend Mac I just want to chill. I do not want to be exposed to a heap of BS opinions about these two, but BAM! they always make an appearance. Unfortunately social media does not come with and arm waving robot screeching … DANGER LISA! DANGER! before logging on.
Honestly, how many hateful misinformed memes or “news” alerts that MUST BE SHARED to spread the misinformed hate across the land can one person endure? Not ONE more!
Don’t get me wrong, I too have had my moments. This fun-loving non confrontational Pisces has been sucked right into the vortex on occasion by … dare I say … responding to the crazy. I actually blow my own mind at how quickly I switch to Cap Lock and fire away.
It’s so frustrating to suddenly read the “opinion” of a well-educated, normally reasonable person, because it is based on the opinion of some half-truth media source. I think that’s what bugs me most….people have transformed from armchair quarterbacks to polarized parrots over night.
What the hell happened to waiting for the facts or heaven forbid the truth? I know they always seem to take their good ole time getting to the surface and their black sheep cousin Distorted ALWAYS shows up first reeking so much havoc no one even takes them seriously when they decide to sachet through the door….late as usual, acting like a couple of wallflowers!
I do have a solution to make some big changes, but it sadly doesn’t have a chance in hell of actually happening … even though it’s brilliant.
During my extensive research on this subject, I came to the conclusion that the only legit Truth & Fact tellers on this planet come in the form of a 4-year-olds. An advanced 3-year-old would also do.
These uninhibited balls of cuteness don’t play around with appropriateness, they go right for the jugular and get away with it with one flash of their dimples. They don’t worry about filtering what comes out of their mouths and they certainly don’t have a care in the world about political correctness. The truth and nothing but the truth.
They just let the truthful facts and common sense spew from their mouths without an ounce of concern. Let me put it this way … if a 4-year-old tells you you’re fat, chances are that is indeed a truthful fact. They don’t play!
Look at little Nancy Drew over there on the right. She took matters into her own little hands when her Kitty Bank was stolen by her babysitter. She just let the police know the truthful facts and BAM! the crime was solved. Kids are also very good judges of character .. we need to listen to what they have to say.
“The bad guys stole my kitty bank, they stole my iPod. They also stole my Xbox and my Wii,” the little girl said. “That was really her being bad. She’s not a good babysitter.”
Now take a moment to imagine all the decision-making seats in D.C. filled with 4 year olds. They don’t lie and they have no concept of money! Why no one has made this suggestion before is beyond me.
I can’t help but laugh as I ponder on all the conversations that may take place during a decision-making session. “Your Bill is dumb!” “No it’s not!””Yes it is!” “Ok.” Lord knows they would have these sessions wrapped up before snack time if little Mateo was running the show.
As we celebrate our freedoms today, let’s make a conscious effort to use these privileges wisely and Listen … Listen… Listen as we Enjoy the Ride!
Most of you know that Peanut entered our lives back in April, but what you don’t know is he has become quite the celebrity around these parts. I guess that makes me part of his entourage.
I can’t go anywhere without him being recognized! Our once 40 minute walk can now last well over an hour, as I stand on the sidelines while Peanut is mauled by his fans. By “mauled” I mean petted, hugged, talked to and scratched.
The majority of Peanut’s fans are under 4ft. tall and 6 years old. Of course there are a good amount of adult admirers that give a passing “he’s so handsome”, “look at that handsome boy” and the most commonly heard “aren’t you a cutie?” but the little ones are certainly the majority. I just love these pint-sized bundles of honesty.
Just the other night I was walking my furry version of the Biebs alone, due to hubby’s long day, when I was immediately stopped by the cutest little red-headed boy down the street. This little guy can spot us coming a mile away. I have no doubt he is president of the Peanut fan club.
Boy: Hi Peanut! Apparently I vanished.
Peanut: Moves in for some love. As if he doesn’t get enough.
Boy: Hey, where’s Peanut’s dad?
Me: Oh, he’s taking a nap.
Boy: Did you make him take a nap?
Me: No, he likes to take naps.
Me: Because he had a long day at work and he was tired.
Peanut: Laying on the ground like a throw rug from all the petting.
Me: Well, he had to get up very early and he just got home and that made him tired.
Boy: Did he say “hi” to Peanut?
Boy: Ok. Bye Peanut, I’ll see you tomorrow. He was on his way to a hot game of Candyland on the porch next door.
Me: See ya!
Peanut: Starts to come out of his love coma to continue his walk.
We continued on our way to get some much needed business out-of-the-way before running into a brother & sister team. Emma & Mikey are adorable. They are usually bathed and sitting on the step with their parents, patiently waiting for the ice cream truck when we come by. They can barely contain their excitement!
Emma: Hi Peanut! Mikey: Hi Peanut! Mikey is Emma’s echo.
Me: Hi guys you look all nice and clean in your pj’s.
Emma & Echo: Do you just have one dog?
Me: Yep, just Peanut.
Peanut: Flat on the sidewalk in all his glory.
Emma & Echo: Does Peanut get a bath before bed?
Me: No, just when he starts to smell.
Emma: We don’t smell, but we have to get a bath every day. Mikey: Yea
Me: People are different from dogs.
Emma: Sitting next to Peanut scratching his belly.
Me: Because dogs have fur and they can’t get wet every day. Why am I suddenly nervous?
Emma: Did you see the ice cream man?
Me: No, but I heard the music he must be close.
Emma & Echo: YOU DID? YOU HEARD THE MUSIC? WHEN?
Peanut: Jumps up thinking a riot is about to start.
Me: Umm a couple of minutes ago, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Yikes!
Emma: Does Peanut like ice cream?
Me: Yep, he likes vanilla.
Mikey: Do you buy the ice cream man for him?
Me: No, he just has a little of ours.
The ice cream man is approaching so we said our goodbyes as Emma & Mikey screeched with joy. Note to self: Do not mention you have any knowledge of the ice cream man’s whereabouts to small children.
Next up two of the cutest little boys you can imagine. One with white hair like a miniature surfer and the other sporting brown hair and a freckled face. Cute as can be so I know they had horns. They are best friends and reminded me so much of my son and his buddy Tommy when they were small. They were both 4 years old. I know because they made me guess. The dynamic duo or double trouble … depending on the day.
Duo: What’s your dog’s name?
Duo: Giggling…Peanut? Like a food?
Me: Yep, just like the food.
Duo: Why did you name him a food?
Me: I didn’t. He already had the name when we got him.
Peanut: Having his head rubbed by two hysterical children.
Duo: Giggling. Repeating the word peanut as if it was the funniest thing they ever heard.
Me: Laughing at their laughter.
Duo: Peanut you have a name of a food. Giggles. You smell like a peanut. Giggles.
Me: I don’t think he smells like a peanut.
Duo: Does he smell like a poop? They are rolling on the ground with Peanut laughing.
Me: I knew it.
Me: I knew one of you was going to say poop.
Duo: Out of control over the fact that I said poop.
Peanut: Looking at me for help to escape the crazy.
Me: See ya guys.
Duo: BYE Peanut….poop….still laughing.
Every night we make our rounds like we’re on the campaign trail. While Peanut is greeting strangers and kissing babies I’m holding his poop bag like a demoted Secret Service Agent. Ya know, Peanut just may be the one to take 2016. If I can get the voting age changed we’re talking LANDSLIDE.
Peanut 2016: I sniff butts, I won’t kiss them.
Peanut 2016: I wag my tail, not my tongue.
Peanut 2016: The only tail I’m chasing is my own.
Be the Dog: Be faithful … Be a good listener … Love unconditionally and Enjoy the Ride!