Wednesday, November 18, 2009

what should we do today?

Chamine sometimes knocks over the kitchen garbage and savagely rummages through it for tidbits of tasty morsels. I’ve taken to putting a chair in front of the garbage at night if I think that there might be anything remotely temptingly tasty smelling to her. But I never saw this one coming. I got up this morning and found this:

SOS pads snatched from the kitchen cupboard and shredded on the floor

Who would’ve thought? In your wildest dreams, would you have imagined she’d munch on SOS pads? I wouldn’t have. What I figure is she was just trying to brush her teeth. Good girl, Chamine.

Not to be outdone by this display of good hygiene, Miley had ideas of her own this morning. I was happily (not so) cleaning the bathroom, when I heard a romping around in the bedroom. There was no noise, no barking or mild growling, which usually accompanies a Miley/Chamine romp. To satisfy my curiosity, I went to check it out. Miley was rollicking with a precious little scorpion, pawing it around like you might see a cat do with a mouse. Yikes! I had a cloth in my hand—not a fly swatter, not a shoe, not a brick—a cloth, and that scorpion was scurrying for cover under the dresser. I couldn’t let it get away! I slapped it around with the cloth. Poor cloth got stung several times, and I’m pretty sure it’s currently gasping for its last breath as it convulses out its final nerve spasms of death.

So good job, girls, brushing your teeth, scouting out venomous creatures. Now, what should we do tomorrow?

Monday, November 16, 2009

what's up?

When we first got Miley, she drove me crazy with the in and out of the door thing. I was used to Chamine's patient system. When Chamine wanted to go out, she simply stood and stared at the doorknob, willing it to open. Eventually it would. If we were neglectful enough, she'd get tired of waiting and just lay on the ground and stare at the door. She never made a sound, never scratched at the door. She just waited patiently until someone noticed her.

After Miley arrived, she took over the job for both of them. If she saw Chamine staring at the door, Miley would stand there and whine. If I didn't respond, she came and whined directly at me. At first I thought she was begging me to open the door so she herself could go out, but then repeatedly, after I opened the door and Chamine went out, she would just stare at me. It was a kind of "mission accomplished" sort of thing. And then of course, whenever she wanted to go out, which was frequently, she would stand at the door and whine for herself as well. She didn't really need to go out every single time she did this, but I wasn't about to take any chances on any special gifts left somewhere because I didn't halt my life to open the back door.

It got really, really old. I mean really, really, really, REALLY OLD. Finally, we decided to get a doggie door. We hemmed and hawed over the purchase for a bit. Get it big enough for Chamine? Just get a teeny door? What to do? We got one we were certain Miley could get through, obviously since she's just a quart sized creature, but we weren't certain Chamine could get through. As it turned out, Miley was scared to death of the door. Big surprise there. But of course the fearless one, saw the door, and with one very small coaxing from her mommy (my daughter), Chamine pushed right on through. "You want me to do what? Squash my body through that little hole? Oh. Okay." We did finally get Miley through after a few days, and now both of them use it freely and happily. We wonder how Chamine ever lived her life without this door.

But this is my favorite. Sometimes when Chamine is outside lounging around lazily, I'm pretty sure she gets this idea: "Hmmm. I wonder what's going on inside the house. I wonder if I'm missing out on anything important or tasty. Guess I'll check." She sticks her nose in, hangs out there for a few seconds, assesses the current household situation, and then decides whether or not she needs to come in and launch a more serious investigation. Sometimes she walks on in. Most often however, she just hangs there for a few seconds, sniffing and listening, alert for anything that might require her attention. Then satisfied that it's as boring as ever inside, she just quite simply pulls her nose back out and settles back down in a heap by the door where she started. Cracks. Me. Up.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

christmas stress

Christmas stresses me out. It was so easy when my kids were all little. They were so easy to shop for, so easy to please. There were dolls and clothes, and even diapers one year. Now, I need to find cool things that please adult children, cool things that are hip and awesome. Ya know what I'm sayin' here? It's a lot of stress for me.

So this year I'm having my regular stress out. The only difference this year from other years is that I have no ideas this year at all! All I have is a nice, organized EMPTY Christmas list, and Christmas is just not that far away either. And dude, it's time to order stuff if you're ordering over the Internet. So I got online looking for fabulous ideas for these fabulous people in my life, and the Internet just failed me miserably. But just today I was perusing a magazine, and I'm pleased to say that I've come up with the most perfect gifts ever. Here they are:

Who doesn't want a remote controlled tarantula? Really? I know I do.

And a marshmallow shooter. Whoever invented this is surely a genius. What else could you ever want to do with your spare time?

In case you can't tell, these are not merely checkered pjs. Oh no, they're crossword puzzle pjs. With this fun gift, you now have something to do when you're up late at night with insomnia. No more counting sheep for this lucky gift recipient.

And lastly, but far and wide not leastly, these amazing circulation improving leg wraps. Many an hour to be enjoyed in front of the tellie while this lucky person improves leg circulation. Hmmm. I wonder if they have arm circulation improvement gadgets too. I'll have to check that out. Then you could look like a quad-limb-broken-bone patient in the hospital.

You have to be proud of my gift searching skills this year. I know I am. Now all that's left to do is figure out which girl gets what. Start casting your votes, girls!