Humiliation in absentia

So! Who's up for a good embarrassing kid story???? I've been humiliated in church before: you can read about it here. But today, I hit the benchmark for efficiency in mortification- I had my ass handed to me in front of the whole congregation, and I WASN'T EVEN THERE!

I didn't want to go to church today. Lloyd was annoyed with me, and we briefly bickered about it while Weston taped 'NO FITNG' signs to Henry the cat and Ranger the dog (seen here and here). Then Lloyd and and the boys went off to church and I lounged around in my underwear. Church problem solved, right? NOT SO FAST, MISSY! Because when Lloyd returned from church, he brought with him the most hilarious and embarrassing church story EVER.

Weston, who has always been a timid child, often will not speak up, even when someone talks directly to him. The church we've been going to has children's church up front at the beginning of every service, and he has been getting used to going up there but is still quite introverted. Shane, on the other hand, climbs right up on the benches up there and zooms around like he's flying, complete with sound effects, until someone scoops him off. This morning, the children's pastor was telling some little homily about how sometimes bad things can happen, and Weston chose that very second to pipe up. In front of the deadly quiet chapel he loudly contributed this little gem: "My mom and dad were fighting this morning because my mom didn't want to come to church!" According to Lloyd, the pastor said hastily, "Let's pray!" and then marched all the kids off without a backward glance.

I have never been so glad to have skipped something in my entire life. Maybe next week Lloyd will stay home with me.

Paranoia and Mouse Turds

As much as I like to carefully craft tightly knit, suspenseful narratives full of humorous anecdotes that end with clever points, today I have a steaming pile of random updates:

1. I spilled black Korean rice all over the kitchen. It looks exactly like mouse poop. I know this because I used to have a mouse in my van. I might still have a mouse in my van. I don't know, and I don't care.

2. Speaking of mice, Henry carried a live one into the house this morning to play with it. Fortunately, I was gone to work. Unfortunately, Lloyd told me all about it. And took a picture.

3. I am rethinking my position on paranoia. I used to think paranoid people were insane and ridiculous and now I think they just know more than the rest of us. Someone at work is stealing my notebooks. The third one disappeared today. You might think it's not just a strange coincidence that the nuttier I get, the more notebooks that disappear from my desk but you would be wrong. I'm definitely getting a fresh new one in the morning and I'm going to write 'GIVE ME BACK MY NOTEBOOKS, YOU CRAZY BASTARD!' That should do it, don't you think?

4. I made a cake today. It's pretty good, AND I have a baking tip for you: granulated sugar half turned to powdered sugar in the blender will not make a nice buttercream frosting, but the kids will happily eat it with spoons. Also, hot, half-powdered sugar will stick in the bottom of the blender and stink.

5. Speaking of steaming piles, if you let your kid bring worms into the house, it's best if you insist on a lid.

Cat Therapy

You guys all know my cat, Henry, right? If you need to, you can refresh your memory by clicking here. He's sort of an unusual cat- he has the most magnificent tail, and he drinks out of the toilet, just to name a few of his finer qualities.

We got him at a shelter, and Lloyd was pretty cross about paying $130 for a used cat. We looked hard for a free cat, but they were surprisingly hard to find. They all have a 'rehoming' fee: what a scam. It's outrageous, I tell you! We would have held out in protest but we had promised Weston he could have a cat as soon as we moved into our new house so we trotted right down to the local cat adoption center. There were at least a zillion cats there, but Weston walked straight up to Henry's cage and wanted to take him home then and there. I made him look around at all the others but he kept going back to Henry, so we knew he was meant to be our cat.

But now, I'm a little concerned about him. I think he might need therapy, because he can't seem to set appropriate boundaries. Take a look at the pictures; you'll see what I mean. They're probably not in the right order- that would take a million monkeys working in blogger for a hundred years, but I'm sure you can put it together. The boys invented a new game, called 'Garbage Truck', and here's how it works:

1. Put Henry in a laundry basket (aka 'the garbage truck')

2. Dump a bunch of toys and books on top of him to simulate additional garbage

3. Drive the 'garbage truck' to the 'garbage dump'

4. Dump the load onto the floor

You would think that Henry wouldn't care for this, but in fact he just sits there and lets them do it. And not just once. They do it over, and over, and over. That's not the only questionable game they play with him, either, and so far they've only discovered one activity he won't tolerate. He doesn't mind being pushed around in a bin, as long as it's upright. But apparently, if they turn it upside down with him inside and THEN push it around, he makes his displeasure known.

I'm pretty sure this is not normal cat behavior. I've had a lot of cats, you know. You can read about all of them in this little essay called 'My Life in Cats'. My point here is that I'm not some kind of cat ROOKIE or something, and never before have I had a cat that needed mental health care. I thought this might require a professional, so I found him a good therapist: Carole Wilbourn. She even does Reiki, but unfortunately Lloyd refuses to pony up the cash to fly Henry to New York to see her, the stingewad.

But don't worry: I have a plan B. I figure the cure for my mental health issues should work fine for Henry, too, so I'm going to dump wine into the toilet tanks! Genius, right? Well, that's it for now. If you need me I'll be in the bathroom with a straw.

Fruits and Nuts

I MIGHT have previously expounded about Lloyd’s excellent health habits. He takes fish oil, eats almonds and blueberries every day, and drinks apple cider vinegar and green tea instead of beer and coffee. I can occasionally tempt him into an alcoholic beverage but I have to put on a belly dancing outfit first, which I don’t do very often because it’s winter time and I don’t like to jingle. He’s been hounding me for AGES to improve my own substandard techniques for maintaining my health. I would totally do it, too, if he would just put on a belly dancing outfit, but that needs to stay our little secret, okay?

Whenever he offers me a cod liver oil, I get all excited thinking he has one of those beers from a microbrewery that thinks they need some clever, edgy name like Dog's Butt or Arrogant Bastard but then I realize he is actually planning to drink fluid squeezed out of a (hopefully) dead fish and I just say, ‘Awwww, shut up and bring me another beer’. You'd think I'd learn instead of getting my hopes up day after day after day. Don't you totally think Cod Liver Ale is an awesome name for a beer? You heard it here first.

He has a few years on me so it's been working out pretty well for me so far. But now, the worm has turned and its underbelly is not pretty. He’s starting get compliments on how well he’s holding up and I’m….. not. No one says, ‘Oh my, those bags under your eyes are simply radiant! What’s your secret??', now do they? Does anyone admire my pasty skin or how my reading glasses magnify my crow's feet? The answer to both of these questions and many, many more is: NO, THEY DO NOT.

This was getting on my nerves, so I thought I'd mend my ways. I started small: blueberries instead of Skittles, dry air-popped popcorn instead of my beloved sea salt and black pepper potato chips. It was getting pretty dreary, so my mind started to wander, as it tends to do. As visions of pepperoni sticks danced in my head, I realized my life would be much simpler and more pleasant if I could just drag him down to my level. So I bought him a big sack of giant beers for Christmas. High alcohol content, family-sized beers. And a double beer bong. As you can clearly see, I have high hopes for 2011. Merry Christmas, y'all!

Earthquake Readiness Clarification

Just a little clarification after receiving an excellent question in the comments on my last post.

Q: I'm confused...do I put my wine under a table or next to the couch?

A: YES! Wine should be stashed throughout your house. I also recommend a healthy supply of wine boxes in the freezer. These can be used to treat minor injuries before being ingested. Then, you can use another one to soothe your aching head if you were foolish enough to run out of Excedrin.

And, a reminder: while wine should be placed next to couches, beds, and other large objects, people and pets should always go under a sturdy desk or table or other object as soon as any shaking is felt. Drop, cover and hold on or suffer the wrath of plate tectonics.

An additional note: The Seattle Times has recently posted an excellent collection of Emergency Resource topics.

Public Service Announcement: Earthquake Preparedness

The Dead Cat family takes preparedness very, very seriously. I know you all think Lloyd is crazy. And, well, he is! Only not about that. But I want you guys to be ready, too, so you don't have to come crying to me when something happens and you've only got one day's worth of wine and no slugs in your garden to eat. I would totally share, though, so if you DO have to come crying to me, there's plenty of room. I have a trampoline in the yard that will sleep ten in a pinch, and plenty of varmints for protein rich snacks.

You might not know this, but today is the 199th anniversary of the first New Madrid (Missouri) quake in recorded U.S. history. You can read about the series of massive quakes in 1811-1812 at the USGS site here. The Mississippi River ran backwards, and reportedly, church bells rang on the East Coast. You can click here to see how likely your state is to be affected by an earthquake. Look here if you're not in the United States. As you can see, pretty much everyone has a decent chance of getting negatively impacted by a quake. And there's plenty of other disasters that can hose you over good, too.

So what do you do, besides stock up on wine? Drop, Cover and Hold On: get down on your hands and knees and get under a sturdy table or desk. Read about it, and tell everyone in your family what to do. You may have seen an email that talks about a 'Triangle of Life' and tells you, pretty convincingly, to get next to a couch or other large object instead of getting underneath something. This technique has been thoroughly debunked for most situations, and the writer is well-known in the emergency management community to be a major crackpot. You can read about the controversy here, if you want, or a quick search will give you tons of articles.

What else should you do? I don't want to bore you with a big long list of gibberish, so check out these links for what you should have and do to be ready:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/earthquakes/archive/ready.dtl

http://72hours.org/

http://www.ready.gov/america/getakit/

Maybe an emergency kit would be a super gift for some of your hard to shop for friends and family, hmmm? And here are some sites for kids:

http://www.ready.gov/kids/home.html

http://www.fema.gov/kids/

http://www.sesameworkshop.org/initiatives/emotion/ready

http://www.gobagforkids.com/

And start getting ready now for February- It's Earthquake Awareness Month! I don't know about you guys but I love an occasion when a hardhat would be a perfect gift.

Morning Madness

I know Helen is eagerly awaiting my upcoming post about why I love Public Works and diesel powered equipment, but that will have to wait for a while longer. Sorry, Helen, but here's a tantalizing hint: it's the closest you will ever get to pure, raw, unadulterated power, baby. The heavy rumble as the engines fire up, the...

Wait, where was I? Oh yeah: morning madness. As you might know, or guess, it's been quite an adjustment for all of us for me to get up and go to work every. single. day. But it's been going pretty well. The boys get up VERY early. They come in our room and shuffle around the bed for a while, and then we all get up. All except Lloyd, I mean- he is so super efficient that he doesn't need the entire morning to accomplish his chores so he stays in bed until I leave for work. The boys watch Underdog, I throw some toast at them and get ready to go, pretty much peacefully.

Today, though, we had a little snafu. The boys came into our room around 4:30, and then WENT BACK TO SLEEP. I don't know why they came in- I'm not home during the day so for all I know Lloyd puts them in hockey masks and makes them have chainsaw fights to entertain the neighbors in exchange for a little extra cash, giving them early morning nightmares. Not that the reason for this aberration matters one tiny bit, of course. I got up and killed a little time, made my lunch and had some extra coffee. That was nice and all, but eventually I had to get showered and dressed, and they STILL WEREN'T UP. This was pretty much unprecedented, and I had no idea what to do.

Decision time, people: do I go in, turn the lights on, shower and get dressed like normal, taking the risk that they'll wake up all grumpy and cross and I'll be late? Or do I creep in there quietly to get my clothes and then suffer the agony of getting ready without all my required supplies and equipment and have to get dressed in the kitchen? I went with the stealth route, hoping they would at least stay asleep until I slammed the door behind me and accidentally set off the alarm.

I took a shower in their grimy, toy-infested tub, and washed my hair with Target brand baby wash. I dried off with a pre-dampened Buzz Lightyear towel and brushed my teeth with a Hello Kitty toothbrush and Little Bear toothpaste. After that, nothing was left to do but get dressed.

Now, don't be too shocked, but I am actually pretty organized when it comes to work clothes. On Sunday afternoon, I pick out four or five outfits so I can just grab a pile each morning and not have to think about it any more. Unfortunately, when I snuck into the closet in the dark, narrowly avoiding getting beaned by a trash bag full of Christmas presents and my manual 35 mm camera with the broken flash shoe, I could not find the dark wash boot cut denims that went with the week's last pre-arranged set. I carefully backed out to pillage the clothes pile, only to be thwarted once again by Lloyd's laundry prowess. There was zilch, and I mean NOTHING, either dirty or clean.

I did the only thing I could do. I posted about it on Facebook. Then I belly crawled back into the dark, peril-ridden closet, grabbed the only pair of pants I could readily and quietly find, a slim cut black velveteen pair, and bolted out the door. Problem solved, you might think, right? That's what I thought, anyway, until I got a good look in the enormous, brightly illuminated full-length mirror in the office bathroom. The thing is, there are few outfits, if any, where a pair of denims can be appropriately replaced with velveteens. At least in my closet. To make matters worse, the replacement pants seemed to have some sort of static issue. They stuck to my boots and the absurdly mismatched jacket clung to the pants. As a result, both the pants and the jacket spent all day inching upwards, and I looked like I raided the closet of a fashion-challenged dwarf. Dopey, perhaps. Only dumpier, and without that snappy hat. I considered tucking the pants into the boots, but feared I would look like a badly-dressed dwarf on the way to ill-advised riding lessons.

And let's not even talk my face and hair and all the rest, okay? I've pretty much given up on makeup improving my appearance in any appreciable way, but let me just say that a comb and some deodorant would have been warmly welcomed, not only by me, but by everyone in my office, and perhaps some passersby on the sidewalk outside my window. I did feel a little better when I saw someone from another division wearing athletic socks with black pumps. I didn't even want to ask what his morning was like.

I don't think I've EVER been so happy to get home from work. I've spent all afternoon problem solving so this doesn't happen to me again. I have a solution involving drop caches, but it's going to require some fairly intensive shopping and there will probably be some logistical issues. Now, here's a couple of little things to cleanse your palate. For a REALLY funny and excellent story about missing pants, click here.

And, I have been in a class all week. Today one of the exercises included filling in an organizational chart for an incident response. Here are my entries:

Chief- Ben Derr

Safety Officer- Izzy Dedgette, assisted by I.C. Blood

Shelter Manager- Bill DeShack

Heavy Equipment Supervisor- Anita Phillip

And that's all I have to say about that.