Hello Friends,
It is Thursday again, which means it is secret project time. This project comes all the way from Seattle, from a lady-friend by the name of D. She is married to J, or R, depending on who you ask, but is mother to L the dog, and Isaac the baby. I met Isaac slightly before he was supposed to be born, and he was the best little person. So portable. He had a little bit of a drinking problem back then.
Now he is all grown up and talking back, and the worst part, his parents let him walk now. Isaac just walks all over them.
So, here it is. D's project for the week. Watch your mailbox D!
Enjoy!
As a mother of the 17 month old Isaac, I often find myself reading Alphabet books, repeatedly. Usually the three requirements for these books are rhyme, theme, and cute pictures. Well, my “Alphabet Book” will contain one of those three. The theme for today’s book is “This Art Teacher and Mother’s Utterly Average Day (or two) in Seattle”.
A is for “AAAAHHH CHUUUUUU!” The first noise I made in the morning.
B is for Bob, my boss and the middle school head, who decided that today would be a good day to see what my 7th and 8th grade class was up to. They are learning how to use Photoshop. They had just finished making “photos” of themselves at age 43 and 73. Art? Hmmm…it’s a good thing Bob has a good sense of humor.
C is for Commuting with Coffee. It cannot be done without coffee. Studies have been done. Accidents have happened.
D is for “DON’T DO THAT!” which is what I yelled as I dove to get Isaac off of the dog’s back as he attempted to ride her around the living room. I think she was yelling the same thing only it sounded more like “GRRRRRROWFGRRROWRARK!!!”
E is for the (bald) Eagles I saw sitting up high, laughing at the silly commuters as we slowly drove past at 7:15am.
F is for Fashion, which is a word I can no longer remember the meaning of. Do really old jeans, a long sleeve, stringy T with a large hole in it, and a pair of ratty Converse count as Fashion? No, I’m not 16. Yeah, I didn’t think so.
G is for the cafeteria’s buttery Grilled Cheese that I ate for lunch. It gave me a serious belly ache.
H is for Health Care. Get this thing passed already! Geez, Louise!
I is for Illinois, the setting for John Hughes’ masterpieces. I had a dream with Andrew McCarthy in it last night. >swoon<
J is for Jam. I discovered a delicious lunch treat involving bread, peanut butter & jam. You may want to try it. It’ll knock your socks off!
K is for Killing Time. Sometimes it’s just too hard to concentrate on things one should be doing. In case you haven’t discovered it yet, TV can help with this problem. TiVo-d Thursday night’s especially.
L is for “Livin’ on a Prayer,” the song sung by my Fifth grade art class as they created a disastrous mess with pastels and charcoal. Next week’s lesson “How to use a sponge to cleanup disastrous messes.”
M is for Money. I have none. I would like more then none.
N is for my Nose, which is no longer functioning as a breathing tool.
O is for Octopus. Isaac is in love with a book called “Bed Bed Bed.” It comes with a CD. The songs (and book text) are by They Might Be Giants and the images are by the super great artist by Marcel Dzama. There is a weird, red-orange octopus in pajamas in it. Isaac can’t get enough of this book. I have gotten enough. (But I still highly recommend it.)
P is for Pocky. “Men’s Pocky” to be exact. Anyone know the difference between Regular and Men’s Style?
Q is for Quincy: A late 70’s/ early 80’s medical drama starring Jack Klugman.
R is for Raj, the 8th grader in my computer art class whose neon colored Nike high tops I am a little jealous of.
S is for Sezchuan Chicken and Sesame Chicken. It’s not easy to find good Chinese food in Seattle. We found some. Yum.
T is for Tissues, my new best friends, but also, after much use, an enemy to my sensitive nostril region.
U is for Umbrella. I needed one today. Go figure.
V is for Voting for middle school student government positions. It's never pretty.
W is for Warm Oatmeal for breakfast on a nippy Autumn morn.
X is for Xylophone. Really, it is! I almost tripped over a tiny one while heading out the front door.
Y is for Yellow, the color of said grilled cheese that gave me that belly ache. Maybe that should have been an indicator of future problems.
Z is for Zorilla, which is an animal I never heard of until I started reading kids books about animals and the alphabet. It’s sort of skunk like, sort of raccoon-esque. Zorilla. (I think it’s made up.)
1 comments:
Ahhhhhh!!! I'm overloaded by cuteness.
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