Four things

Four things Boo laughed at today:

  1. Me stubbing my toe on the coffee table, then hopping around in circles trying to muffle my curses. For the first time in my adult life, I sounded like Joe Pesci’s character in Home Alone 2 when Macaulay Culkin knocked him in the head with a cleverly concealed paint can. RACHET FRACHET OUCHITY OUCH OH MY GOD THAT EFFING HURRRRRRRRRRT.
  2. Adam Sandler getting kicked in the leg by an angry dwarf in Bedtime Stories.
  3. Himself, right after farted.
  4. Himself, right after spitting milk all over himself, necessitating another bath.

Four things I laughed at today:

  1. Boo, right after he farted.
  2. Boo, right after he said, “Book, peas?” at nap time. Nothing like a quick reading of War and Peace to make a boy sleepy.
  3. Boo, right after he farted (again) in the bathtub and the resultant bubbles surprised him.
  4. A behind the scenes look at the new Harry Potter movies. Not because it’s funny, but because my inner fan girl is desperately trying to claw her way out from beneath a carefully crafted veneer of respectability.

Four things I did today:

  1. Took the Netflix out the mailbox before our ninja-like mailman had a chance to disapparate with everyone’s outgoing mail.
  2. Google ‘words for describing ninjas’ because I totally drew a blank on how to communicate the speed and stealth with which our mailman seems to slither in and out of time and space with everyone’s outgoing mail. Google failed me, so a Harry Potter reference won out. (Nerds FTW!)
  3. Explain to Red why ‘words for describing ninjas’ was in the Firefox history.
  4. Tried (and failed spectacularly) to get Boo to keep his pants on for more than five seconds so we could go out to get the mail.

Four things I did not do today:

  1. Take the batteries out of Boo’s Vtech Light-Up Smile Learning Camera because honestly, it was either that or stuff that motherfucker down the garbage disposal.
  2. Wish a horrible death upon the happy tweeting birds outside the bedroom window this morning because honestly, who the hell wakes up at 6:00 AM?
  3. Cackle like a demented witch when one of the neighbor’s evil redheaded children fell off his Razor scooter outside my bedroom window.
  4. Let Boo watch four episodes of SpongeBob while I got sucked into the archive vortex at Dooce.

While I was writing this, it occurred to me that it was a lot easier to list the things that Boo laughed at than the ones that made me laugh. After much introspection, I have decided that either a) my sense of humor has shrivelled up and lodged itself in the black hole that used to house my soul, or b) everything that has happened today is so boring that I can’t bring myself to even try to make it worth writing about.

I think Paul Rudd’s character in Knocked Up summed it up best when he said, “I wish I liked anything as much as my kids like bubbles. It’s sad. Their smiling faces just point out your inability to enjoy anything.”


I don’t think I’m quite that cynical. Yet. I do get a kick out of lots of little things throughout the day, but they’re so insignificant and weird and inside-jokey. I guess I just don’t need to share how off kilter we are with God and all of America.

And for the record… Do have any idea how hard it is to blow bubbles while simultaneously trying to take pictures? Oh. My. Lord. That is why there is exactly ONE shot that turned out. Only one shot that wasn’t out of focus. One shot that didn’t expose so much, um, skin. One shot that showed his face, not the back of his head. One shot that captured the joy this kid has for his ‘bubbas.’

The whole thing went something like this:

Me: (Bloooooooow, grab camera) Boo! Look! Bubbles! Get ’em! Look! Look! BUBBLES!

Boo: Bubbas? (Like, “What the hell are you talking about woman? Clearly you have lost your ever loving mind.”)

Me: (Bloooooooow, grab camera) Boo. Get. The. Bubbles. They’re fun! Try to grab them!

Boo: Oh. OH! Bubbas, Mommy! (pop pop pop) More!

And so on. For ten minutes. For one lousy shot. But it was fun to watch him try to eat the bubbles when they landed on his nose.

Finally, to tie up plot holes and suppress the  “Oh holy ribcage, Batman!” comments, Boo is NOT actually as skinny as he looks in the bubba chasing picture. Nor is subsisting solely on breadcrumbs he can scavenge from the floor and spots the Swiffer misses.

His doctor’s visit yesterday revealed that he weighs nearly 24 pounds and is 33 inches tall. He falls somewhere in the 17th percentile for his weight, but we’ve been told not to be overly concerned. He’s just so active that it’s hard for him to pack on the pounds, even though he eats like a horse. He also does this weird thing where he sucks in his belly when he’s really, really excited.

Which he was. Because of the bubbas. It’s just another one of his five thousand little quirks.


About Chelsie

Mommy. Beauty product whore. Plastic lawn flamingo enthusiast. Nosy neighbor. One day novelist.
This entry was posted in Nerdness. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Four things

  1. Pingback: How I learned to love the frump « Three Ring Mom

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