What would you take?

This is going to be bizzare. I had a dream last night, might have been the Nyquil I took for this damn cold of mine, anyway the dream had to do with the world as we know it today with all the technology going away. And we all had to pack quickly (in 20 minutes) all the things we thought we would need to make it in this new world.

Can you guess what I took? I was really methodical. I saw Jerry run for Gun and Ammo. I saw other family members grab gold and jewels, family photos, food.

I got two big backpacks full of needles. . .Scissors. . . thread!! Why? Cause I knew I could make a living, trade the skills I possessed in my head and hands for the things I needed.

Ya think I read too much Science Fiction?

American Slang

Grandpa has an affinity for leading the conversation with little kids making them fess up to things most parents would be embarrassed to have them say. I saw this happen years ago when (then 4 year old) niece Keely had a lengthy conversation about toilets and toilet paper with “Uncle Jerry”.

It is almost like Art Linkletter, for those of us in the older generation, or Bill Cosby for those younger, relatively speaking of course.

Given the opportunity to take one 3 year old granddaughter to the birthday party of another granddaughter we said yes. While on the drive Grandpa asked Joy if she would like to see a Weiner get plugged into the wall and cooked. We had been talking about dinner food and this was a logical conversation.

Actually he used the word Weinie.

Joy did not respond immediately. She has learned that Grandpa is silly. He likes to call her Sarah, Susan, Korban, all sorts of names just to get her to say “Grandpa, I’m JOY”.
I could see her little brain trying to figure out this new name game he was playing.

The joke was on Grandpa this time. Over and Over he kept asking about cooking a Weinie. I told him to stop using that word, then he used the word HOT DOG. She understood then.

I asked her. . . .”Joy, what is a Weinie?” Knowing what was going to happen.

“That’s what a boy uses to go pee pee.”

It is rare to see Jerry crackup.

You can just imagine the pictures in Joy’s mind when he asked if she wanted to see a Weinie get plugged into the wall and cooked!!!

Dedicated to my daughters and other Mommies.

This Blog is dedicated to my daughters, be they step daughters or blood daughters or adopted daughters. You are all Mommies now, or will be soon, you know what this means.

ATTENTION CHILDREN: THE BATHROOM DOOR IS CLOSED.

Please do not stand here and talk, whine or ask questions. Wait untill I get out.

Yes it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, I am not trapped. I know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times, since you were born, because I was afraid some horrible tragedy might occur while I was in here, but it's been 7 years and I want some PRIVACY.

Do not ask me how long I will be. I will come out when I am done.

Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.

Do not go running back to the phone yelling, "She's in the BATHROOM!"

Do not begin to fight as soon as I go in.

Do not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle them. This was funny when you were two, but not now.

Do not slide pennies, Legos, or notes under the door. Even when you were two this got a little tiresome.

If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still talking as you face this closed door, please turn around, walk away, and wait for me in another room. I will be glad to listen to you when I am done.

And yes, I still Love you.

(signed)
Mom

So the above Note I stumbled onto over 20 years ago. It was oh, so true that I had to cut it out and saved it. No, I don't know where it came from, nor what magazine or author to credit.

Yes, I am a grandmother now and should feel lucky I am past this phase with my children.
BUT!!!!!!
I have a worse problem now. . .



My Cats can't read the sign.
They just stand outside the door and Meow till I open it. And Jerry laughs hysterically when I take a shower and they stand outside the door talking to me.
They never do it to him. . . .Only me.
Mommies are special.