Random Thoughts

A few random thoughts on this incredibly early Sunday morning......
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If I were to ever write a book from a dog's point of view (written in "first dog") I would use up my lifelong alotment of exclamation points and have to start taking them from other people. Your life would then be more boring because I was hogging all the exclamation points for my dog book.

Seriously though, I swear to you, everything Biscuit experiences I can totally narrate it with thousands, nay millions, of exclamatory comments.

"Ooh there's that white bear again! Must! Chew! White! Bear!"
"Let me out! I have to poop!"
"Toes! Look! Toes! Toes are yummy!"
"A STICK!"


Oh yeah, and according to my dog, night is definitely not for sleeping. Still.

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I still *heart* Twitter. Especially now that I have unlimited texting.

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Awhile back Abby wrote a book. I know! My daughter! wrote! a! book! (Don't get too excited - she declared yesterday that it was a total accident that it turned out to be good and she has no intention of ever doing it again because like, writing books is dumb and boring. Duh.) And because this book was so good she won a spot at an area Young Author's Conference where she and about 400 other young authors got to hear presentations by two authors, Marie and Roland Smith, a husband and wife who write children's books. I found Roland Smith to be utterly captivating and enjoyed his presentation very much. Sam was even inspired to start writing -- during the conference, no less -- a story about a boy whose family has a secret - a deep dark secret and that secret involves something about a robot shark or something.

However, as we met up with Abby afterwards and began our trek across campus toward the van she turned around and very dryly said,"Well, that's three hours of my life I'll never get back."

And while I'm a wee bit disappointed that the writing thing isn't something she wants to do, there is stil a chance she can become evil dictator of the universe. Or a standup comic. Besides, I'll just bask in the glow of her brother's mad writing skillz, but if he gets published before his momma he is so grounded.

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I went with Sam's class to the Oklahoma Aquarium on Friday. The name Oklahoma Aquarium itself cracks me up because umm....we are Oklahoma. And we have an aquarium. I dunno, is it just me that is amused by that?

I was given Sam and his friend Patrick Who Loves To Scream to chaperone. Picture two nine-year-old boys who were born and raised in Oklahoma, one of whom is a dyed-in-the-wool redneck, in a gigantic room full of lures, rods, reels and boats. I had to pick up their jaws and carry them in my purse just to keep them from getting all germy and stuff there on the floor. And that was only the first room we stopped in. After that I heard "WOW MAN!" and "COOOOOOOOL!" probably close to 47 bazillion times over the following two hours as we saw all kinds of swimmy things, things with scales and things that I have probably eaten their cousin rolled in cornmeal and deep-fried.

It was when we were in the gift shop after we had looked at all of Oklahoma's aquatic wonders (Most of which we have in our pond anyway. Or the creek up the road. Or the river just on the edge of town. But it's SO MUCH COOLER to see it all behind glass.) that my sister and I had the following conversation via text messaging:

"Tell me - is $40 too much to pay for beaver? I'm just curious."

"WHAT? Please tell me ur in the gift shop."

"Nope. Street corner n Tulsa. I wanted to get Paul a gift. The gift of beaver!"

"LMAO"

"Seriously tho? $40 for a stuffed beaver? Geez!"

"That seems high. I don't it's even that much for the diseased stinky kind."

And while I think she was talking about the mammal beaver that lives in a pond and has big teeth and builds dams I can't be 100% sure. And that is why I'm so glad she's my sister.

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Last night we went out with Gentleman and Tater with the intention of having dinner and seeing Ironman but the movie started too early and I was already in the throes of chips and salsa and didn't want to rush that heavenly goodness so we did what we usually do - we gambled.

Paul won a pretty good hunk of money and declared that he now had enough money for drag pipes for the Harley (because it's not loud enough already?) and I gently reminded him that Mother's Day is coming up quickly and that ya know, I sacrified my girly bits to birth his children and stuff and I kind of ya know, expected something in return for my stretchmarks, saggy boobs and worn out uterus. We'd already discussed what I wanted for Mother's Day and I hoped beyond hopes that he was going to remember. He assured me did.

As we pulled into Tater's driveway to drop them off she said, "So Paul, ya won money for drag pipes - what else ya gonna buy with that wad?" I was too excited to let him answer. I said, "That money is buying the five of us tickets to the monster trucks next weekend for Mother's Day!"

Silence from the backseat.

Then Tater said, "You realize you just said that sentence out loud, right?"