1. I sprung the two oldest from school today to take them to McCowkiller’s. It’s a well earned treat for them. They feel like they’re skipping school, and I feel I’m in control of their schooling. [I know, I know, I should be homeschooling them.]
2. I ran into my BFF J. when I was signing my kids out. As her daughter and my daughter are BFFEI (Best Friends Forever Eternally Infinity), I sprung her two as well. Since she only feeds them nutritious food that is humanely grown in a Petri dish, I felt her kids needed to get some pink in their cheeks.
3. My son, not so thrilled because, you know, it’s bad enough he has a sister. Do I have to take other girls with him? Haven’t I read the research on cooties and how they’re transmitted much more easily the greater in number a lad is outnumbered? Tough life, he’ll have to choke down his plain Cowkiller with cheese.
4. In the midst of our dining experience, as J.’s youngest is eating her formerly live chicken nugget, she discovers an interesting indentation in her nugget. I then go on to explain to the pagan offspring of J. and to my own believers about Jesus on a toast and how we’re going to make big bucks off of this nugget with the face of Christ (or a goat or a dog or what-have-you). Stealing the nugget from the very sad – and now hungrier – girl, I gingerly transport it home and leave it a McCowkiller’s Happy Carnivore Meal toy wrapper. Life gets in the way, and I forget about it. Coming back two hours later, I discover it has gone missing. My husband professes no knowledge of having disposed of anything – anything – from the stove. When I explain what it was, he acknowledges having fed the nugget to the dog and having thrown the wrapper away.
5. The man never gives the dog table scraps. N. E. V. E. R. I do believe God and Jesus are howling with laughter at the horrible twist of fate that has befallen my now very poor family.
6. Oh, and my friend J., mother of the daughter who really found the Nugget Jesus – or NJ, as we’ve all taken to calling it – I never had any intention of giving her a cut of the action.
7. Elsewhere in these here parts, my very own Christ figure – frick, I am so going to go to hell for this post…and for other things, too – is coming to town in just three sweet weeks. One of my kids happened upon my email inbox not too long ago and found an email from him. “Bruce Springsteen sent you an email?!!!”
8. While I try to lie to my kids as often as possible to, one, toughen them up and, two, make me look cool, I did tell the truth to them about that mistake.
9. Forced to memorize the preamble of the Constitution, my son complains about his as-yet unmemorized assignment. “She only gives us two days to memorize it in our already busy lives.” The dramatics of my children. I wish I knew from where they inherited that.
10. The preamble is one, long run-on sentence. I have written longer items in this one Weekly Wonderings issue.