changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003
ms_pooka

popcorn. punching. button pushing.

yesterday afternoon, the sky grew dark and the clouds took on a roiling appearance and i thought, "good god." it was a hair early, but fat drops were just beginning to dot the pavement and i trotted quickly down the stairs and into my car. i won! i drove to oliver's school with the plan of sitting in my car with npr for fifteen minutes, but the rain threatened to turn its own self up a notch. so i trotted quickly into the school. i won! i found a tiny chair and settled myself down on it, turning my face to greet a father walking toward my circus act. the kindergarteners were just returning from whatever awesome thing it is they get to go do and they opened the door. mrs bailey saw me and notified oliver and i said he could stay and finish up, i was fine. but chaos ensued. there was oliver and his fleet of womenfolk, each pushing him a different way. he didn't know which end was up and began to cry. i hugged him and tried to find out what he wanted to do and he finally admitted with words i could interpret that he would like for me to come in and watch him finish punching asia. i suppose that's the end of that story. you thought i was going to say punchline.

yesterday morning, violet woke up in her blue tank with white flowers, red diaper, and pink legwarmers with pinker whales. she came out of the bedroom and was a little worked up from having to pass back into consciousness and she literally flashdanced across the living room and dining room floors on her way to me, legs pumping furiously on to her toes. i told her she was admitted to dance school.

finally pulled out the old bag of popcorn kernels i gave to someones stocking last xmas, but you wouldn't know anything about that, considering i never wrote a word about xmas except to say i haven't written a word about xmas. watch as it slowly recedes into the past.

finally pulled out the old bag of popcorn kernels. the cast iron dutch oven was already heated up from cleaning up a dinner of cream of broccoli soup. don't make that face.

and then i realized the recipe for some kind of fancy popcorn treat simply said, "pop the popcorn," when it got to the popcorn popping part and completely left me hanging. well, thank god for technology and i followed someones instructions on brian's iphone.

i was a little disappointed to not get to watch it pop, but i was quite grateful to not have a scalding hot popcorn kernel explode into my eyeball. it pretty much would have called a stop to all variants of fun for the evening. except maybe for oliver.

it was like a can of magic, putting those little kernels into a bunch of hot oil and pulling popcorn back out of there. salt. earth balance. four temporarily happy people. oliver cut a deal on finishing six bites of his broccoli soup. don't make that face. for some reason, i followed it up with fruit strips for the kids and oliver was extremely ungrateful on multiple occasions and i was like, SOMEONE SHOULD GO TO BED EARLY TONIGHT. and then we put the kids down late. a baby and a cat had to be washed in the meantime. you can't cut corners on something like that. we're about quality around here.

brian is off from work today. long ago, he had this fancypants idea that we would be the kind of people, come may, who could leave for medicine park on a thursday and pay for lodging for people and a cat and tell work to take a hike. well, things changed, but not brian's vacation day. so he was kind enough to take oliver to school this morning. oliver was in a panic because he spends every morning in some extreme state of undress, playing with his tricycle and business all over his dresser and thusly encounters the final countdown to "you've chosen to play instead of get ready for breakfast." and so he was darting around, trying to get to the soy yogurt finish line, and his shoes were still by the back door where he had left them yesterday when i brought him home in a biblical deluge and he was sitting there trying to get them on quickly and being all whimpery and put upon and violet wandered over there with her little metal bowl of cashews and sweetly patted him on the head and stroked his curls and i whispered, so as not to disturb, "brian. brian! BRIAN!! brian, LOOK!" which is pretty much how it goes anytime i want brian to look at something, anything. and he looked just in time to see violet gently patting oliver's curl and oliver punching violet in the stomach. which made the let down greater, as i was falling from higher heights due to the elevated sweetness ledge. in twenty-five years, when i'm writing about violet's miserable track record in the relationship department and considering the whys, please paste a link to this page into a comment. i will forward it to her future email address and save her thousands of dollars in therapy and thousands of hours in misery.

for my most recent anecdote, even more recent than the stomach punch, violet was taking a break from trying to crush ttyki's neck and reliving the good times of pulling juana's tail. juana was making an attempted slow escape by shoving the first half of her torso under brian's old school desk book compartment, which meant her last half was going up in the air. and violet, of course, was doing her best to break her tail and i totally saw it coming. she started saying, violet... not juana, butt-a-butt-a-butt-a-butt-a, which despite what you're thinking means button. oh dear god, please don't push that button.
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