Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Tales From First Grade

Today I started a two-month long, 1st grade substitute job because, you know, I'm not busy enough. Anyway, first grade is really fun. We were having a little getting-to-know you kind of a meeting, where each of the kids got to tell me something about themselves, and then they got to ask questions of me. This can be a dangerous endeavor, but I decided to go ahead and risk it. One boy raised his hand and asked, "How OLD are you, because you look like a TEENAGER!"

Pretty much decided who my favorite is right there on the spot.

Their regular teacher is on maternity leave, having just given birth to twins. Naturally much of the chatter among the children is about babies and their origination. As they were coloring their worksheets, I listened to one boy tell all the other kids at his table all about how babies are made.

And I quote: "The mom goes to the doctor and he opens up her belly button and sticks a tiny baby inside. Then he covers it all up and the mom goes home and takes a nap. When she wakes up, the baby is big, so she goes back to the doctor and he stretches out her belly button and yanks the baby out!"

It's going to be an entertaining couple of months.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

What Their Mama Saw

Well, here we go again. I have a freshman, and I have a 5th grader. They're both attending new schools this year. The freshman was nervous about going to high school and the 5th grader was excited about getting his own locker and sitting anywhere he wants during lunch at the intermediate school. When I came out of my room this morning, he was standing in the hallway, holding onto his bangs.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I decided to try out a new hair style for school this year."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Well, I need them to stick out, not up, but they won't stay."

"I've got something that can solve that." It only took two applications before he realized if he left his hair alone, it would stay put.

Here's what they looked like this morning:

And what their mama saw:

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Growing Pains

Before I can complete today's post, there are two things you need to know:

1. I have a beautiful and talented daughter who is musically inclined. She has hummed and sung her way through life, filling our home with beautiful music.

2. I have a darling husband who is struggling with his beautiful and talented daughter growing into a beautiful and talented young woman.

Okay. With that in mind, I give you the laugh of the day.

This morning, I was in my room, painting yet another set of doors. Jess was the only other person home, and she would wander in out of my room, and we'd have short little conversations. At one point, she came in singing "I'll Make a Man Out of You" from the movie Mulan.

Jess: "Did you hear what Dad said to me about that song the other day?"

Me: "No."

Jess: "He said it was 'inappropriate.'"

Me (incredulous): "What? Why?"

Jess: "He said I shouldn't be singing a song like that. So I told him that it's a song from a Disney movie and Donny Osmond sings it. I said it was a song about preparing men to go to war, and if Donny Osmond can sing it, then it's probably okay for me to sing it."

Me: "And what did he say to that?"

Jess: "He said, 'OH! I thought it was a song about a young girl making a man out of a boy!"


Wednesday, August 7, 2013

My Television Debut

Every now and then, there are some pretty cool perks to being an automotive writer. Like, say flying on the Ford Corporate Jet, for one. Or driving around a race track with a professional stock car driver at 210 m.p.h. for another. Or riding in a top-secret V-12 Mustang. Those are super cool things to do, and if you ever get a chance, I highly recommend doing them, because those moments are far and few between.

Today, I had another one of those moments. I got to be on T.V.! Aside from having the sweatiest arm pits I have ever had in my life, it was a lot of fun! I was invited to do a segment on a local show here called The Daily Dish. So I drove down to the ABC4 studio in Salt Lake City early this morning and did my thing, talking about cars. I got to spend time in a green room. I met three guys who own a film production company. I met a psychic! And not a fake psychic like the guy on Psych.

The show's hosts, Nicia and Troy, were super friendly and immediately put me at ease. I was also amazed at how small the studio was -- like slightly larger than my living room-small.
A shot of the show's hosts during a commercial break

Can you believe all those lights?

The production booth (a.k.a. two tables right behind me)

Troy, the host from Australia

Those three guys talking about their film company
I had this horrible fear that I was going to freeze in front of the camera, but amazingly, I survived, and kept my arms firmly at my side! If you want to check it out, click here. It was a lot of fun, and despite having a face for radio, I think I'd be willing to try it again!

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Yes, I Have a Problem

I'm a pretty simple person. When I leave my house, I am all set if I have but two things in my possession: sunglasses and lip balm.

That's it.

Simple enough, right?

There is only one lip balm I like. And there is only one place to get it. The last time I bought it, I bought two tubes, because I love it so much. Well, this week, both tubes ran out at the exact same time. So I went back to the place that always sells it; only they don't sell it anymore. This is a major problem.

There are only two other places I know of that carry it:

1. Harmons in St. George, which is a 4-hour drive away from where I live.

2. The Burger King truckstop in Fillmore, which is a 2-hour drive from where I live.

Don't tell me to try Chapstick, or Carmex, or Burt's Bees, or EOS, or Nivea, or Softlips, or anything else! I hate 'em all! I want my Shaka Laka! I know -- SHAKA LAKA. As fun to say as it is to use.

I'm typing this little post, trying not to think about how my lips feel like they might peel right off of my face any second now.

If anybody needs me, I'll be the lipless, shriveled up lady in the corner.