Jennifer: I found this video on someone's blog and it made me shed a thousand tears. You should watch it. :)
Jacob: Do you want me to shed a thousand tears too??
Jennifer: I'll accept it if you only shed a hundred tears.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Friday, July 5, 2013
Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening
Are you ready for a tale of sadness and utter woe? Grab a tissue -- this is a tearjerker.
This afternoon my sister Heather asked if I'd be interested in babysitting her daughter tonight. You guys. Kayla is The Most Adorable Niece in the World. Don't believe me? Here, have some pictures:
And how do I not have any more pictures of her? Allow me to steal one off of Heather's facebook. (Dear Heather: I hope you're okay with me posting pictures of you and your posterity here.)
So yes. Kayla. Most Adorable Niece in the World. Naturally, I jumped at the chance to babysit, because she is darling and I'm hoping to become her Favorite Aunt. I was going to need to leave around 5:45 to get to their apartment on time, and around 5:40 I started to get my belongings together.
A few minutes later, I realized that I couldn't find my keys. This is not an unusual occurrence, but I can usually find them in one of several places. After I'd checked those, I began to panic a little. I dumped out my purse. I checked under the couch cushions. I looked inside the refrigerator. I wandered through the apartment like a madman, never staying in one place more than five seconds, frantically looking for my keys.
I texted Heather that we may have a problem, and then at 5:54 I remembered that Jacob had asked me to return an item to the library, as it was due today. And the library closed at 6.
Fortunately, we live very close to the library -- it's literally a walk in the park to get there. But in this case, I didn't have time to walk.
I grabbed some shoes and socks and bolted out the door, hoping beyond hope that nobody would break in during its unlocked state. And then I ran across the park, my phone in one hand because I didn't want it to fall out of my pocket, the other arm across my chest because I didn't have time to change into a sports bra.
Did I mention that it was raining? Oh yes, it was raining. And there was lightning. And I learned that running outside at a sprint is very different from jogging leisurely on an elliptical, and before long I was huffing and puffing.
I returned the CD with maybe a minute and a half to spare, and then I ran back to the apartment in the same fashion as before, because at this point it was raining even harder and also because the door was still unlocked. My only condolence is that the rain masked my sweat. Or at least I like to think that.
As I sprinted toward my door, I happened to be spotted by our good friends and neighbors. They called to me, but I couldn't really hear them because I was breathing too loudly. How embarrassing. So, Katrina, if you had invited me over or something and then were totally offended because I snubbed you, that's why. Nothing personal, and I totally would have come over if I wasn't still worried about finding my keys.
WHICH ARE STILL MISSING. So not only did I miss out on babysitting my adorable niece, but now I have the unsettling feeling that my keys ended up in one of the several places we visited earlier while running errands. Or possibly locked in the car. Or in the Pit of Despair. It's anyone's guess, really.
Ten million points to the person who correctly guesses where my keys are. And while you're at it, would you mind also telling me where the remote control and tweezers are? My eyebrows are getting scary.
This afternoon my sister Heather asked if I'd be interested in babysitting her daughter tonight. You guys. Kayla is The Most Adorable Niece in the World. Don't believe me? Here, have some pictures:
 |
| First, we have a picture of her enjoying an Otter Pop. Truly her mother's daughter. |
 |
| And this was approximately two days before she learned how to crawl. |
 |
| Doesn't this make you just die? |
A few minutes later, I realized that I couldn't find my keys. This is not an unusual occurrence, but I can usually find them in one of several places. After I'd checked those, I began to panic a little. I dumped out my purse. I checked under the couch cushions. I looked inside the refrigerator. I wandered through the apartment like a madman, never staying in one place more than five seconds, frantically looking for my keys.
I texted Heather that we may have a problem, and then at 5:54 I remembered that Jacob had asked me to return an item to the library, as it was due today. And the library closed at 6.
Fortunately, we live very close to the library -- it's literally a walk in the park to get there. But in this case, I didn't have time to walk.
I grabbed some shoes and socks and bolted out the door, hoping beyond hope that nobody would break in during its unlocked state. And then I ran across the park, my phone in one hand because I didn't want it to fall out of my pocket, the other arm across my chest because I didn't have time to change into a sports bra.
Did I mention that it was raining? Oh yes, it was raining. And there was lightning. And I learned that running outside at a sprint is very different from jogging leisurely on an elliptical, and before long I was huffing and puffing.
I returned the CD with maybe a minute and a half to spare, and then I ran back to the apartment in the same fashion as before, because at this point it was raining even harder and also because the door was still unlocked. My only condolence is that the rain masked my sweat. Or at least I like to think that.
As I sprinted toward my door, I happened to be spotted by our good friends and neighbors. They called to me, but I couldn't really hear them because I was breathing too loudly. How embarrassing. So, Katrina, if you had invited me over or something and then were totally offended because I snubbed you, that's why. Nothing personal, and I totally would have come over if I wasn't still worried about finding my keys.
WHICH ARE STILL MISSING. So not only did I miss out on babysitting my adorable niece, but now I have the unsettling feeling that my keys ended up in one of the several places we visited earlier while running errands. Or possibly locked in the car. Or in the Pit of Despair. It's anyone's guess, really.
Ten million points to the person who correctly guesses where my keys are. And while you're at it, would you mind also telling me where the remote control and tweezers are? My eyebrows are getting scary.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
This just happened.
Not fifteen minutes ago, I made my way to the bathroom to relieve my bladder.
Not two seconds later, I hopped back into the hallway.
"Um, Jacob?" I queried in a strangely high-pitched voice. "There's something on the bath mat I think you need to take care of."
Jacob, man that he is, came over to investigate. He came to the same conclusion that there was, in fact, a pincer bug on the bath mat.
"Now Jennifer," he said, in a voice you might use to speak to small children. "All you need to do is pick up the bath mat and shake it in the toilet." He then demonstrated this by doing just that.
He presented the toilet to me with a flourish*.
"Oo, I don't want it looking at my bum," I whimpered.
Jacob seemed less than sympathetic and left me to my business.
Upon closer inspection, the bug appeared to be motionless, so I settled myself down and positioned myself so I could still keep an eye on the earwig.
All was well until the waters started to churn, so to speak. Suddenly, the bug started paddling its creepy little legs.
"Jacob! It's swimming!" I shrieked.
He made an unintelligible reply.
Then the pincer bug started to crawl up the side of the bowl.
"Jacob! It's crawling up the sides!" I screeched. Then, with even higher pitch and intensity, I wailed, "I don't want to be here anymore!"
"Then flush!" he replied.
Oh, yes. That.
Following his instructions, I rid the world of another monstrosity. You may thank me now.
*I may have taken some artistic license with the narrative, but the dialogue is 100% accurate. Well, maybe 98%. It's hard to remember each word for word.
Not two seconds later, I hopped back into the hallway.
"Um, Jacob?" I queried in a strangely high-pitched voice. "There's something on the bath mat I think you need to take care of."
Jacob, man that he is, came over to investigate. He came to the same conclusion that there was, in fact, a pincer bug on the bath mat.
"Now Jennifer," he said, in a voice you might use to speak to small children. "All you need to do is pick up the bath mat and shake it in the toilet." He then demonstrated this by doing just that.
He presented the toilet to me with a flourish*.
"Oo, I don't want it looking at my bum," I whimpered.
Jacob seemed less than sympathetic and left me to my business.
Upon closer inspection, the bug appeared to be motionless, so I settled myself down and positioned myself so I could still keep an eye on the earwig.
All was well until the waters started to churn, so to speak. Suddenly, the bug started paddling its creepy little legs.
"Jacob! It's swimming!" I shrieked.
He made an unintelligible reply.
Then the pincer bug started to crawl up the side of the bowl.
"Jacob! It's crawling up the sides!" I screeched. Then, with even higher pitch and intensity, I wailed, "I don't want to be here anymore!"
"Then flush!" he replied.
Oh, yes. That.
Following his instructions, I rid the world of another monstrosity. You may thank me now.
*I may have taken some artistic license with the narrative, but the dialogue is 100% accurate. Well, maybe 98%. It's hard to remember each word for word.
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