all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Friday, August 24, 2012

Abe Committed Penicide

This week was full of accomplishments.  Lillian can ride her bike without training wheels, Grady learned how to swing while standing up,  Dempsey can say yeehaw, and I baked banana bread.  I even let the kids help.  Snot flew before the flour had a chance.  I rewashed all bowls, utensils, and the table.  Then started over.  I let Grady mix the sugar and flour.   I looked at the next step.  Cream sugar and butter.  My friend Amanda, the baker, told me this was a crucial step.  I dumped it all out.  And started over.  I creamed like I've never creamed before.  And voilà.  Banana bread à la triple threat.   No one actually ate it.  Except Uncle Andy.  And we haven't heard from him since.

Neighbors donated the knee pads. 
In case your mute button is on, he's saying YEEHAW over Safeway Select Frosted Flakes.  I never did like that tiger.

Is anyone surprised he figured this move out?

Yet another accomplishment.  I fished a penny out of the toilet yesterday.  A penny.  With bare hands.  A penny.  It was sitting at the bottom of the bowl.  A penny.  Under poop.  A penny.  Mostly hidden.  A penny.  Abe Lincoln's nose was peering out.  Aghast at where he had found himself.  A penny.  Grady's beloved penny of the day.  He finds one every day.  And it becomes his beloved.  I heard him screeching from the bathroom.  "My penny!  My penny!  My penny!"  I walked in to find him pant less, straddling the seat.  Staring at his crotch.  He told me he had been playing with it.  The penny.  Get your mind out of the gutter.  And it just fell right in.  Abe probably didn't know which was grosser, a 3 year old boy's grubby paws, or a poop filled toilet bowl.  He made a jump for it.  You have your answer.

While the penicide was taking place, I was in the kitchen doing a booty dance over my excitement in finding an Indie children's station on Pandora.  And by penicide, I mean penny suicide.  Because when I googled penicide to see if I had indeed created a new word, this is what I found.  According to Urban Dictionary.

The act of killing or mortally wounding a male's penis.
A rare chemical that instantly dissolves penises.

Yes,  a rare chemical that instantly dissolves penises.  Worse than a 3 year old boy's grubby hands and a poop filled toilet.  The end.   Literally.  For the penis.  I'm pretty sure this is not what Abe had in mind.

I attempted to pay my AT & T bill online today.  I offered them an Abe.  Through the computer.  They wouldn't take it.  They must have known where he's been.  I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to provide my checking account number.   I completed that step, but then the next button kept disappearing.  I clicked super hard.  It was there.  Then it was gone.  Sort of like Grady.  When I blink.  They offered me an 'online chat' with 'Sherry Taylor'.  And yes, that's how her name appeared.  In single quotes.  I must admit it freaked me out a little bit.  Who puts their name in quotes?  Is she a very advanced AT & T helper?  Or is her name really Venkatanarasimharajuvaripeta Delhi and her AT & T wink wink nod nod code name is  'Sherry Taylor'?   I tried to ask Abe his opinion, but he was still pretty shaken over the whole Urban Dictionary thing.  He was quiet for the rest of the day.  Good thing Grady will find a new one tomorrow.

My Abe.  In all his shining, poop stained glory.  2008-2012  RIP


No comments:

Post a Comment