Why?! (I’m late, I over slept. Not very clever, as yet.)
A little Lotramin® should take care of that.
I’m here!! I’m here!!! And I’ve only had a few minutes to scan the MMP, but saw the question from Puggy about cars and rain. And if it was me, I’ve forgotten.
Unfortunately, my brain only has space at the moment for items related to my work project which appears to have gone in well yesterday; now we’re in “wait for cards and letters” mode. OK, actually, “wait for people to complain loudly.” I’m hoping we’re prepared enough for that part. My big worry was our system conversion, which went (knock on wood) extraordinarily well.
So, it’s entirely possible I forgot something related to my car and rain.
I need to go mow the stuff that is growing all around my house. I’ll be back to blab some more after a while. And maybe I’ll remember car things in the meantime.
GT - Not operating on all cylinders today
How have I not replied to the MMP yet? I’ve got about 15 minutes left before I leave work. And of course I’m working hard cruising MPSIMS.
This week is a 3-day week for me. I’m taking Thursday and Friday off. Why? Because. So there. I’m going to Comic-Con on Saturday. I’ll probably putter around the house taking care of things the other days.
picunurse the why is because I do try to maintain a minimal sense of decorum. Plus, the kid behind me has a treehouse. What if he was up in his treehouse in broad daylight and saw me running around nekkid in the yard. He’d be in therapy for life! 
Plus, the screen on the porch is dark so it’s hard to see through it. Plus, I have some shades up on the porch for added privacy. See the hot tub is on the porch, so nekkidness does ensue there.
Bumba, there is no overflow valve on my pool. I have to open the drain to drain off excess water. It ain’t as hard as it sounds though. I can do it from the pool pump and filter thingy. The water drains right out.
Brain dead. Completely forgot to mention in my first post that I, too, am giving injections these days. To myself. In my stomach. It’s a blood thinner to prevent post-op deep vein clots. Yuck. Have given thousands of shots in my life, now I know what it feels like to be a pin cushion.
I’ve never given an injection to a dog. Or a cat. Can’t even imagine the trauma.
Boy, my being tardy to the MMP is becoming regular occurrence. What is wrong with me?
beckwell, I’m so glad you’re up and around, although your shots do not sound fun, in the very least!
Rue, aw, I feel so bad for your poor little pooch. I’m so glad he’s doing better. My dog doesn’t like the vet either, especially since he was neutered. He starts shaking just as soon as we step out of the car. He’s a good boy while there, though. He doesn’t snap or anything. He just tries to lick the vet’s hand after he’s done getting checked out or getting a shot.
Now, for the first time ever, I’m going to get to give TMI…you’ve been warned. Skip this next paragraph if you’re easily grossed out, I know I was extremely grossed out and I was there!
First a little back story. The hubby had this huge, huge lump on his back. It’s been there over a YEAR! We tried popping it over the course of time, but to no avail. I kept thinking it was an ingrown hair or something. Occasionally, the very middle would turn white, like a pimple coming to head, but we couldn’t pop it. Last weekend, a little white spot was there again, and a very little stuff came out when I tried popping it, but I couldn’t get much out and it scabbed over. This evening, after dinner, the hubby scratched the scab off and asked me to try and pop it again. Oh my! Oh the humanity! Oh, the gag factor! Long, thick ropes of white stuff came out and it just kept coming and coming. I was gagging. Finally, there was nothing there and the lump was gone. I then promptly poured peroxide in there. So, that’s my little TMI story and hopefully I’ll never have to gag you good folks with this again.
I’ll try and post more tomorrow, but right now the hubby wants to play World of Warcraft, so I have to log on there.
Let’s see…what did I miss the first time around:
Glad DogMom and others checked in with a suggestion on the car, cuz I still got nothin’. Also, in the meantime, I’m quite sure it wasn’t me with the weird electrical problem in the car. (Mowing and a metric buttload of watering helped clear out the brain.)
Dogs, shots, etc: completely foreign territory to me. (OK, I know what dogs are, but I live in a pet-free household. Believe me, it’s better that way.) But I’m glad Brody’s better. And let me repeat the call for puppy pictures. We know he’s cute and we want MORE PICTURES!!!
Skirts: Well, as a rule I don’t wear skirts, but when I do, I tend to wear them long. Does that make me ancient?
I have an extra-long skirt that I like to wear when it’s hot because I don’t have to wear hose with it because all you can see are my feet. The down side is that I spend my day tripping over the edges of it: 1) When I get on the bus. 2) When I get off the bus. 3) When I sit down at my desk. 4) When I stand up again. The other day I was sitting in a colleague’s cube and the edge of my skirt got stuck under one of the wheels of the chair I was sitting in. I came awfully close to having an EXTREMELY embarrassing experience when I stood up. (It has an elastic waistband.) Fortunately, I could feel it slipping down as I started to stand up and was able to salvage a modicum of self-respect. But still, I was laughed at. I work with cruel people. 
My wild guess is that The Boy and The Girl are in the Daddy Daycare target demographic. My niece and nephew are in that age range and this is one of their favorite movies. I have been forced to see it a jillion times. But I think that Rue needs someone to run this daycare with. On the other hand, maybe Soupo’s old enough to help out. (He can help at storytime, we know.)
beckwall, sounds like you and the new hip are doing well. YAY!
Taters, Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!!! But at least it’s gone now, one hopes.
It’s past my bedtime. Good night.
GT
Houseful of husbands behind me. Driving Husband is getting drunk, Lazy Husband and Mr. Lissar are playing go, and Dishes Husband is talking to Driving Husband. They had a discussion earlier and decided that Mr. Lissar has the best deal, because he’s (according to Driving Husband) Sex Husband.
Gotta go chat with them.
Poor Brody! I hope he’s all better now. It’s no fun to have a puffy puppy.
I washed my car this weekend, so it’s all nice and shiny. Except for the stripe down the middle of the roof that I missed. 
So now it’s kinda two-toned. But at least it runs okay (for now).
beckwall, sorry you have to give yourself shots! I don’t think I could do that to myself. I’m too wimpy. Sounds like your new hip is working out okay.
I’m good at burning myself on my oven, too (good to know I’m not the only one). Sometimes I just forget that things are hot when they come out of the oven. And my oven isn’t very well insulated, so it gets hot on the outside, and sometimes I lean up against it in the wrong place. Ouch. Don’t even get me started on the toaster oven. It hates me.
Taters, thanks for the TMI! I love a good zit-popping story!
Ah, yes, toaster ovens. Mine hates me too, and I have several scars to prove it.
GT
Kid? I’m 18! 
Work today was interesting. I got to work at the customer service desk, which is where all of the interesting people go. There were interesting transactions. I’m too tired to recount anything, though.
Right now, I’m eating some broccoli salad that has a taste of cigarette smoke to it, which is weird, since I haven’t touched one since the 3rd. (It’s my one vice, guys! I’m a social smoker. I like to do it when I drink, and occasionally just for the fun of it. I can count the number of cigarettes that I’ve smoked since I’ve been home for summer on one hand.)
Today was chaoticbrother’s birthday. I was cheap and got him a 20 dollar Game Boy Advance at work, which he luuuuurves, even though he doesn’t have any games for it (He’s got a PS2, but he’s behind a couple of generations on handhelds…) This is the same brother that I’m convinced is gay, but hasn’t come out yet. I hope he does soon so that we can go participate in all sorts of genetics studies and get paid. We’ve got what a lot of people don’t… HALF-BROTHERHOOD! Think about the options! We share a mother, so the researchers can look at us to try to see if The Gay is passed along via the mother. Is my mom a carrier for The Gay? We might never know!
For some kind of “convenience”, whoever designed my kitchen put the oven at “waist height.” Meaning the oven door, open all the way, is just about level with my boobs. My arms are approximately the same length as the oven door.
You do the math. sigh
I’m beginning to sense there’s a whole lot of MMPers who should not be left alone with appliances that heat up. Having said that I’ll probably burn my knees on the oven door or something equally as stupid tonight. Karma is probably rubbing its hands together and going: BUUUWAAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!!.
chaoticdonkey Teh Gay is just there. That’s about all I can figure out about it. All I know is I got it. Stay outta that kid’s treehouse, that’s not nice. Unless of course you’re paying him rent. Then that’d be ok. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the little booger in it all summer. Maybe he’s bored with it.
:eek: Owie. This was probably designed by someone who never cooks. Or someone with really long arms. Well, there’s the obvious solution–stick potholders over your boobs when you get something out of the oven.
swampbear, I might be a danger to myself in the kitchen, but the results are so worth it! And it’s not that I’m clumsy or anything–my oven has a mind of its own, and sometimes it’s just out for blood, and there’s nothing I can do.
Listen you people! You get more puppy pictures when someone buys me a digital camera! Deal.
Not to worry, he didn’t learn a thing about nuthin’. They have nice people there who pet on him and fuss over him and give him treats. He actually likes going to the vet. I think it’s a terrier thing since Lucy likes going to the vet too.
The Neighbor Lady just became a stay-at-home mom with her last kid. Sometimes her Old Job calls and they need her to come in and work for them a little. (End of Month stuff usually.) She has her regular babysitter, but she was on vacation last week (so she said) and Neighbor Lady couldn’t get ahold of her for yesterday. And Neighbor Lady’s parents (alternate babysitters) are on vacation this week and they are Bad Grandparents and would rather have fun that watch the little… their grandchildren. So, as a last resort (obviously), she asked me.
Boy, those kids didn’t know what hit them.
They were under the imprssion I’m a Nice Guy. Ha! It is to laugh. I quickly disabused them of their misconceptions.
Other Boy, he tries to be all passive-agressive, letting me know he wants something with subtle hints.
“I’m boooooooored…”
So? It’s not my job to entertain you. But we have books. I can get you a book to read.
He found a way to stop being bored on his own.
“I’m huuuuuuuungry…” (When they got here, Soupo and Katcha were just getting up and needed feeding. So the Other Kids were offered a Second Breakfast. He didn’t want any. Then mid-morning was snack time. The cheese sticks didn’t meet his stringent cheese requirements and he didn’t eat any. Did he even try it? No. But the cheese wasn’t good enough. No cheese for you then little boy!)
So? Lunch is in a half an hour. You’ll eat good then.
“I’m thiiiiiirsty…”
So? There are paper cups up in the bathroom, go get a drink.
He was learning though. he changed the “I’m thiiiiiirsty…” to “May I please have a drink of water?” So I got him a drink of water. Out of the filter pitcher in the refrigerator.
I also banned Other Boy from the furniture. After the third time I had to tell him to “sit right on the couch”, he lost furniture privileges. Until after lunch. No need to be cruel.
Other Girl (I’m pretending their last name is “Other”, not that there were more little girls running around. That would have killed me.) tried to ignore me.
Ignore me!
Ignore me!
If I was asking her something inconvenient, she just wouldn’t answer.
“Other Girl,” I’d say. “I know you heard me.” And then she’d answer.
Until the Showdown.
It was lunchtime and Other Boy and Soupo were winding each other up. I told them to stop and they did. But Other Girl started right back in.
“What did I just tell those two?”
And she ignored me.
“OK, fine. You can just sit there, in that seat, until either you answer me or your Mom comes back.” It was going to be at least four hours til that happened. I could wait.
She thought ignoring me more and pouting was the way to go. Until she wanted to get up and go play again. Nope, sorry kiddo. The Big Ignore ended there. (Mostly. She is a girl after all.)
Other Baby… oh jeeze. Makes me glad I have a vasectomy. No more babies for me! No way.
It didn’t matter what the question was, he’s one and some change. The answer was always the same: “NO!”
“DON’T YOU YELL AT ME!”
“No.”
“OK, then. That’s better.” (What? I was supposed to expect him to agree with me? Yeah, that could happen. In some Alternative Universe.)
But Other Baby is sneaky. He tried a different tack.
“NO!”
“DON’T YOU YELL AT ME!”
And Other Baby got big puppy dog eyes and they got all teary and his lower lip stuck out four feet and he started to whimper and whine.
“I don’t want to hear that. You brought it on yourself. Now knock it off.”
And his eyes dried up and his lip retracted.
The next stage was the Flailing Fit. That did not fly.
“KNOCK THAT OFF!”
Then his little Bag of Tricks was empty and we got along for the rest of the day.
For afternoon snack I made Welsh Cakes. (I had them at the last Scottish Fest I went to (even though they are Welsh and not Scottish) and then had to find the recipe online. Find a recipe actually.) I figured the novelty would make them extra good. It worked for Other Girl. She just heard they were some sort of “cake” and she gobbled them up. And took a bag of them home. (To “share with her family”. Yeah, right.) Other Boy wouldn’t eat them because they had raisins in them. Other Baby wouldn’t eat them because… he just wouldn’t. I gave him little pretzels instead. He didn’t choke, and they made him happy.
Then they all went home and I cut the grass.
It was a big day.
-Rue. (Mary Poppin’s stunt double)
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
Some people are like Slinkies;
They’re really good for nothing.
But they still bring a smile to your face
when you push them down a flight of stairs!
The Anachi Grand Cherokee is at the service center this morning. It’s getting some warranty work done as well as an oil change and tire rotation and alignment. I asked the service manager about the battery grounding strap and he said it would have shown up in the diagnostics. What do I know. In any event, it has not gone all wonky since that one time. I’m crossing my fingers that it will not decide to go all wonky and die next week when I am trying to flee the beach because Hurricane Emily is bearing down RIGHT ON TOP OF ME! :eek:
Say, rue, methinks you should cash in on the “Nanny” TV show and start your own on another network. Could pay for Soupo and Katcha’s college and even obedience school for Brody.
Did Neighbor Lady think to offer you a bottle of tequila, bourbon, whiskey, gin, vodka or scotch as a token of her appreciation? Hmm… that’d make an interesting gift pack assortment. Sneak a little vodka in the grape juice and then, PRESTO! instant all afternoon nap. Err… umm… I mean… make some special fruit smoothies for a quick afternoon pick-me-up and tell em, no, that has Mr. Rue’s special medicine in it. That woulda worked.
I have a special task to do tomorrow. So special, I’m taking a day off work to do it. See, ACBG has to have a little outpatient surgical procedure (No I’m not tellin’ what it is. I’d only do that if I was having it. Then I’d go into minute detail. I’m only TMI when it comes to stuff about me) so I’m taking off cause I have to drive him to the outpatient clinic, sit there while he has his procedure, then take him back home. My home to be exact. If I need to look after him the rest of the day, it’ll be on my turf. It’s easier for me that way. Besides, he’ll be all goofy and I could tell him we’re at Disney World and he won’t know the difference. So, anyways, I’ll be ACBGsittin’ during the day tomorrow. Ain’t I sweet?
Wow, I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one with oven-related burn stories. Are we a clumsy bunch or is it that common?
Glad you’re back beckwell. That sucks that you have to give yourself shots though. I really really really wouldn’t want to do that!
I made stuffed zucchini and peppers for dinner last night. It meant I had to have the oven on in the hot weather, but it was worth it! Yummy!
I guess I’d better 'fess up. I’m not to be trusted around the oven, either. I’ve done a couple of crazy things.
The oven door when it opens is about six inches from the floor. I have burned my calf, yes.
I’ve also reached for the pan without any gloves.
But the absolute worst thing, and I’m embarrased to even tell it:
One day I decided to cook something or other. I think it was rice. Anyway, I turn on the burner, and go do something else. I come back, and somehow I’ve turned on the wrong burner! There’s a plastic dish on it! :eek: What’s worse is, instead of my mind saying
“Self, there’s a plastic dish on fire. The sink is 1.5 feet away. Pick it up, quickly, and drop it in the sink.”
My mind went:
“FIRE FIRE FIRE AAAARGH FIRE FIRE FIRE!”
So I screamed! Really loud! And panicked! And my SO came running in from the other room, took one look at the situation, and grabbed the dish and dumped it in the sink. Then turned to give me the look.
I have never lived that down. I will never live that down.
I want to see this. An alternative solution would be to put the potholders on an apron, strategically placed in The Boob Region, to catch any errant heat.
swampy, you seem to have this thing for tranquilizing people. :dubious: