ENGLISH!! DO YOU SPEAK IT??

No, I’m not going to quote Samuel L. Jackson in its entirety here. I admit to having a jones when it comes to the English language. I came here not speaking a word of it, and worked hard to learn it. So sometimes I get a bit… frustrated when the kids get sloppy.

Last night at dinner we were discussing family stuff when the subject of my BIL came up. For some reason, Eldest was confused about his role in the Army, and Little One decided to set her straight:

Little One: He just came back from a deployisation!

Me: Deployment!

Little One: That’s what I meant.

Trust me, if it were once in a while it wouldn’t be a big deal. But each kid had an Engrish moment yesterday. It was like the stars colluded with Fate and threw a touchdown homerun. Between using slang and this, I don’t think my ears stand a chance.

The German Pickle

I have a quandary. This being a Hungarian-Puerto Rican family here, we obviously observe a faux German tradition*. We are extremely hoi polloi here. Anyway, tradition holds that you hang a green pickle ornament on the tree on Christmas Eve, and whichever child finds it, gets a special gift.

Found here!

This year, a complaint was filed by Little One against this so-called tradition. You see, her sister is 5′ 8″, and her brother 5′ 10″, and she is still in the “Pocket Venus” range of 5′ 2″, putting her mad searching skillz at a disadvantage. In her opinion, such a tradition is severely biased against the shortest member of the family and, as such, should be banned.

I told her this is the Empire of Aggie™, and the ACLU has no jurisdiction here.

She wisely relented, but asked that I give consideration to her plight, which translated means that she whined until I told her to shut it. But since they all want a shot at the special gift, I have decided that the pickle shall be hidden somewhere in the living room, giving everyone even odds of finding it.

And giving me peace and quiet around here 🙂

*It is celebrated here in the US as a German tradition, but oddly, my friends in Germany have never heard of it, and I found no stories in Bavaria to account for it.

Chatty Sithy

In what has been a rude awakening for me, it has been brought to my attention that I tend to talk a lot.

ME!!

And lest you think it was done in a subtle manner, by a well-meaning friend, it wasn’t. It was my mom, and it was done out of tough love.

This past Thanksgiving, I drove down to my folks to pick them up so they could spend the holiday with my sister’s family and mine. I live five houses down from my sister, so it’s more convenient to bring up my folks than to caravan down to their place. Also, they get to enjoy the holiday, instead of my mom cooking and cleaning for twenty people. On the drive back from their home, I kept up what I thought was an intelligent conversation about the happenings with the kids, changes in Hubby’s schedule, my new vehicle, etc., when suddenly, my mom pipes up:

Mom: My goodness, (Aggie)! You just don’t shut up!

Me: Wha…??

Mom: You have been talking non-stop since we left the house!

Me: Well, I have a lot to say, mom.

Mom: Why?

Me: Because I don’t get to talk to anyone!!

Mom: But you never talked much growing up…

Me: That’s because my sisters never let me.

Mom: Hm…that’s true.

So yes, I do talk a lot. I make no excuses for it. I am simply trying to catch up after 35 years of being a relatively quiet person. And now that I have a blog, I can type as much as I want! 😉

Drama Queen

No, this isn’t about my friend The Queen. She abhors drama, unless it’s in a book or TV show. No, this is about Shakespeare!!

I love reading the works of Shakespeare. Very few works stir my soul as much as his do. I suppose being Hispanic and having the gift of talking with my hands lends itself to interpreting Shakespeare. Either that, or I just like living vicariously through literature. It’s a toss-up.

Right now, Eldest’s class is dissecting Hamlet. I was totally jazzed about this, because I have studied the play many times, with different teachers as well as helping other students in college with papers and the like. I was READY FOR THE CHALLENGE!!

Until…

Eldest: Mom, sorry, but I can’t let you help me with this.

Me: Wha….??

Eldest: Our teacher wants us to do this blind, write the first thing that we think of for each passage.

Me: (still not grasping the concept) But….

Eldest: (smirking a bit) Sorry mom…

Me: Sigh….

So much for me helping my kids with something I actually know. Let’s face it: Statistics drives me into hysterics and makes me want to cut someone. Ditto for Physics (stop glaring, LC LtC). Just once I want to be the one the kids seek for homework help….

Until then, I will content myself with being the lead Drama Queen around here.

SOMEONE GET ME SOME CYBER SMELLING SALTS!!! 😀

Oh, Christmas Tree….

How lovely are your branches? Well, it depends, really. Growing up in a very small town in the mountains of Puerto Rico, we didn’t have access to Christmas pine trees, so my mom would decorate whatever potted tree she had not transplanted yet with those wonderful gaudy multi-colored Christmas lights, and some mirrored ornaments. We girls didn’t care what ornaments and lights were on it, as long as mom and dad lit that sucker up at night, turning off all the lights in the living room so we could sit and STARE at the colorful spectacle. Those were some lovely nights.

Once we moved to Texas, though, my mom decided the tree was going to be a decorator vehicle. Everything matched, and while it was beautiful every year, I still missed the days of just the big bulb lights and glass ornaments. Once I was married, though, I would be more artistic with the tree, even to the point of not having a tree at all, using a huge broken branch to hold ornaments one year. And then I got into the mom rut: making a well-matched tree. And so was the pattern established, until I read this post at Innocent Bystanders.

So, I’m digging out all of my Star Trek™ ornaments, and the mismatched glass balls, and the multi-colored lights, and the crappy fuzzy tinsel garland, and every single ornament the kids have made since they started school, and I will let the kids throw it together the way they like it.

Because I want them to sit in a darkened house, looking up at the Christmas tree in wonder, the same way I did.

Word to Your Mother!

Saturday I took the kids to IHOP, since I was in no mood to cook after an eight hour drive. As usual, there must be music, and Eldest was scrolling through the XM stations when I screeched at her to stop.

Moon Unit Zappa’s Valley Girl was on!!

Like oh my god!

Like, totally!

It’s like so bitchen!

Grody to the max!

Gag me with a spoon!

Like, fer sure….

Totally!

The kids listened to it with deer-caught-in-the-headlights looks and Eldest asked me, “Like, how old is this song?”

And smartipants that I am, I said, “Like, totally thirty years old!”

Sometimes I get the feeling the current generation thinks they invented the words like and totally. They looked surprised to learn that certain idioms they use have been around for decades. Some, like swag, are new to me. That one still confuses me, and drives Son up the wall whenever he hears it. Lately I have seen the terms beast and boss being used. I always thought a beast was a bad thing, or an X-Men character. How little I know, right?

But all that got me to thinking…. what is to stop me from being an etymological trendsetter?? So, I thought about it, and have come up with the coolest phrase evah!!

EPIC ENTROPY!!

I tried it on the kids this morning, and got a blank look for my efforts. But not to worry. It will catch on. Momma always has the last word, and that’s epic entropy 😉

Not Quite the White Rabbit

But as usual, I’m running late around here.

Today I have to clean the bathrooms and reorganize the unholy mess that exploded upstairs craft area before I go down to pick up my folks. Oh, and the pumpkin? It was too small, and the cardstock would not adhere well to it, so no Great Pumpkin™ for the table this year. It’s just as well, since we are having a turkey, a ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, rolls, cranberry relish, and three pies and a cobbler. There won’t be any room on the table to eat, much less decorate.

Oh, and I never shop on Black Friday, so I shall have time to make this:

Maybe…. as long as my mom is shopping with my sister 😀

Picking Up the Peace

Why is that? Because the kids are still asleep.

Why is that?? Because they stayed up arguing well after I went to bed.

And why was that?? Because they tend to take things on a literal basis.

So today, one will be wiping down every single door, front and back, top and sides, and the other one will be wiping down all the baseboards. And once that has been done to my satisfaction, they will move on to the air vents and fans.

Oh yes, there will be joy today!! 😉

The Countdown Begins

It’s less than a week until Thanksgiving! I am very lucky to have one sister live up the street. We get to co-ordinate large gatherings with family more easily, and thus avoid the headaches associated with one cooking for many.

This year, she will be making the ham, and the neighbor the turkey, leaving me with the sidedishes and one dessert. Now, I tend to be a bit more adventurous when it comes to food, and a bit less traditional, too. I was all jazzed about trying a new recipe I had found for a cranberry chutney, when my sister spoke up:

Sis: A what?

Me: A cranberry chutney. It has pineapples and pecans and a bit of cayenne–

Sis: No.

Me: What do you mean, “No”??

Sis: I mean no fancy stuff. Just get the jelly stuff in a can.

Me:………… what??

Sis: It has to be eaten, so get what regular people like.

Me:………..

Yes, she actually said regular people. But I figured she had a point, microscopic as it was, and let it be. After all, Thanksgiving is a time to be grateful, and I’m very grateful for all I have.

Besides, She didn’t say anything about dessert!! 😉

A Wedding Story

Yesterday, our friend Yabu regaled us with a bachelor party story that brings tears to the eyes. I’m still laughing about it. One thing that made me laugh was the groomsmen’s use of Ray-Bans™.

I also have a story about Ray-Bans™.

When Hubby and I were deciding on groomsmen and bridesmaids gifts, we went our separate ways. That meant I would have no say in the guys’ gifts, and he would have no say in the gals’. Anyway, he decided to gift the groomsmen pewter flasks. Really nice ones that they filled with their spirit of choice and tucked into their tuxedo pockets. They stood outside the church and took sips in preparation for the wedding. This is all on video, by the way.

What I didn’t know was what Hubby and his Band of Marry Men™ were planning after that.

We get to the church (on time), and the music begins, and the flower girls go out, followed by the junior bridesmaids, and then the official bridesmaids. And then it’s my turn. I walk down the aisle on my father’s arm, the entire congregation turning to look at me (because apparently that’s what is done, right?). Halfway up the aisle I look over to Hubby, and miss a step, faltering against my dad.

They are all wearing sunglasses!!

I smiled stonily asked my dad what I should do.

He told me that was my problem.

My dad is every man’s hero.

And y’all know what the worst part is? No one but my dad, the photographer and I saw it!!! To make matters worse, my mom refused to purchase the photo of that, so I have no way of showing the kidlets what their father did to their mother on her wedding day. He still smirks about that, and relishes getting to make me freak out on our wedding.

But that’s ok. I have a lifetime in which to get even 😉