That Rabbit Food Smell

Yesterday we were walking up to the house from the car when the kid turned to me with a puzzled look on her face.

her: "Huh...It sorta smells like rabbit food out here."

She then cocked her head, looked around and then shifted her gaze to the sky for a moment. A wave of certainty blanketed her expression; she turned to me and confidently announced:

"It must be coming from the sky."

me: "What's coming from the sky?"

her: "That rabbit food smell!"

Feeling accomplished in identifying the mystery odor that apparently only she could detect, she was able to walk inside the house for the evening.

ps: What does rabbit food smell like?

Sayre

Just look a my gorgeous niece!

Candied Yammied - "Southern Food Night at Salem's School"

Issue:
If you bake candied yams for your kid's school function and happen to dump them down the length of your coat and jeans - Chances are likely that it will not come out in the wash. Even if you wash them twice. Yes, I used a stain stick.

Solution:
Shop at Target. The clothes are inexpensive and fashionable = Easily Replaceable.

Candied Yams: A recipe.

3 lbs sweet potatoes
1/2 cup orange juice
1 cup brown sugar
1 tsp zest from orange
2 cinnamon sticks
1/4 lb butter
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup toasted and chopped pecans

Cut, peel and boil sweet potatoes. Melt the rest of the ingredients together in a sautee pan. Reduce by 1/4. Minus cinnamon sticks. Heat oven to 350 degrees.

Drain cooked potatoes. Dump into a 13 x 9 baking dish. Pour over the reduction, add cinnamon sticks. Bake for 30 - 40 mins. Take out of the oven, sprinkle with pecans. Wrap in foil, put in your car. Take it to your kid's school function. Dump it all over yourself. Sit for 2 hours in yammie-goodness while watching kids as they hate to perform on a stage in front of an audience that is not paying attention. Enjoy!

ps: My kid just stood there on the stage. Stood there. You'd think she'd be hamming it up. Shocking!

Barbie Roommate

last year, I picked up a Barbie for Salem's best friend's birthday. This doll came with a bed, cell phone, nightstand and a lap top. I kept calling it the 'Barbie Roommate", which is not her name but to me, she just looked like a lay-about-phone-chattin'-internet-surfing roommate. This doll really struck a chord with my kid, she's been talking about it ever since.

The kid now has a few chores around the house. I have her set the table, clean off the table after meals, make her bed, wipe down the bathroom counter, put the recycleables in their place and keep her toys tidy. For this, she gets a small allowance. A friend of mine was going to get her the requested Barbie as her prize for getting chores done. He failed to consult with me before hand and jetted off to the store to secure said 'roommate' doll. Much to his chagrin, there was not a Barbie Roommate to be found and he received many a blank stare from the toy store clerk when he requested this mysterious toy.

Salem will just have to settle for Sea World Barbie, equipped with a dolphin and an Orca whale. His logic is good! As this was the gift she picked out for her best friend's birthday this year.

Bizerk

I love this word, it makes me laugh. That is all.

More Toilet Humor - Sorry!

Salem was playing with the much loved Barbie House this weekend. As it turns out, that toy has proved to be money well spent. She loves the thing, plays with it all the time.

Back to the story... She was playing behind me while I was working on the computer. I smelled a foul odor and instinctively turned around to note the source. She looked up at me from behind her Barbie House and knew right away why I had turned around.

her: "Mommy, can you turn on the bathroom light for me?....I keep smelling farts."

What I don't get is she knew she had to go because of the odor and not that she felt the flatulence? What a weirdo.

Electric Bell

The other morning, I was really tired and it took me a while to get my bum out of bed. Needless to say, Salem was not cool with me taking my time waking up. She had an idea of what might get me motivated to stir...

her: "Hey mommy! Get up out of bed! I'll turn on all the lights in the whole house, that will wake you up for sure!"

me, under my breath: "That won't be good for the electric bill, now will it?"

her: "Where's the electric bell? I wanna see it!"

I thought to myself, gee, I wish the electric bill was an electric bell. Then I wouldn't have to pay it.

Screaming Like You Wouldn't Believe

Salem and I were drying off after a quick shower this morning. She hid her hand behind her back and said,
"Mom, don't EVER NEVER pick at this, OKAY?"
With that sentiment, of course I was immediately curious as to what on earth she was referring to. I'm not sure if reverse psychology is intended here, but that's certainly how I understood that statement.
(I hate that word, psychology. I've never been able to spell it right without spellcheck. When will I learn?)

I grabbed her paw, turned it over and noticed a huge splinter in her palm. I mean, this thing looked like a piece of wild rice.

me: "Oh, it's a splinter! No big deal - Your hand is wet and I bet it will be wicked easy to remove. It prolly won't hurt at all!"

her: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STOP!! NO MOMMY, NO!!" She squealed and shouted like I was going to remove her left eyeball with a rusty spoon. I thought for sure the neighbors were going to call DFCS, wisk her away and throw me in jail.

To make matters worse, we were both nude, dripping wet from our shower, and I was struggling with her as if it were some awkward made for high-ratings WWF match. I reached for my trusty tweezers in my make up bag while holding her in a headlock. She was screaming all the while. I let loose enough to unfold her little fist to reveal the splinter. You see, I'm a tweezing master, owning my title of The Patron Saint of Hair Removal. I noticed quickly that this job was a piece of cake.

As her mouth was open and screaming, I quickly reached in like a bird snatching a fish out of the water and yanked that nasty thing out of her hand. She stopped screaming straight away and in this short moment of placidity, she looked up at me and said, "Wow. That didn't hurt!"

This was followed by, "Lemme see it! Is it bloody and gross!!"
I love how she changes from petrified screaming child to gross-out-fiend in an instant.

A Valentine Wish

Salem took it upon herself to write her own valentine greetings this year. She and I are so proud of her efforts!

Favorite Food

Salem's favorite food is Vietnamese crab cakes, we get them at a local restaurant. They are comprised of egg, shrimp, crab and I'm guessing the secret ingredient is none other than manure. let me just say, in so few words, they make me want to hurl.

The odor is reminiscent of a combination of a shrimp omlette, vienna sausage and fried onions with a smack of turned ham.

1. They look like the cross section from the thigh of a cadaver.
2. They smell like the underside of an Louisiana mud-eating carp.
3. Her breath, despite my brushing her teeth obsessively, stinks for days.
4. She will go on and on about how much she loves them. In the car on the way to the restaurant, before we order, during our meal and all the way home.
5. I have some left overs of said crab cakes in my fridge as we speak. I'm trying to recall if she remembers bringing them home? If they disappeared, would she accuse me of foul play or would she even know?

I think I have a new experiment at hand...

Time to Gloat

I'm so excited! I'm going to see Neko Case in April. I heart her....

2009 achoo! Catalog

 

This year the one and only Salem is the cover model for the 2009 achoo! Allergy and Air catalog. Cover art direction and design by: Yours Truly.

Order yourself a free copy: GET ME ONE NOW!

Wurd. (Runway bound, for sure)

Red Button = End Call

I spoke to Salem on the phone yesterday--I think this is her least favorite task. I wanted to know how her day at school was and if she were behaving, ect.

She huffed and puffed and really couldn't be bothered. Normally, when we speak on the phone she'll say "Hi mom!" and quickly follow that salutation with "ILOVEYOUBYE !" Yes, all one word.

But last night she went off on a mantra, "I have to talk to you, and brush my teeth, and put on my pajamas and hear a story and then go to bed and I'm mad!"

She then said something about ice cream; I mean I really got an ear full. I asked her to calm down as she was starting to sound like an angry drag queen who was just informed that they closed the Chanel counter at the local mall.

She refused to calm down and my inquiry about her nutty behavior escalated her rant.

"Salem, babe! Relax! Calm down. You need to go to bed soon and you're getting yourself all worked up. You need to chill out, kid... Now, are you chill?"

her: "ILOVEYOUBYE!"
me: "Wait! I need to know you've chilled out, are you?"
(Imagine her voice sounding like Jan Brady when she's been upset with Marsha... oh crap, does that date me too much?)
her: "Gosh Mom! I don't like all this talking on the phone! Can I press the red button now?"
me: "Okay, I love you, bye!"

And that was that. Apparently the red button really is the "Easy Button".

Sorry...but this is funny.

I know the last several posts have been about bodily functions--and I apologize in advance of this post, as yes this too is about flatulence.

The kid was having some major gas issues the other day. I mean MAJOR. I asked her to please excuse herself from playing and try to relieve herself in the restroom. She proptly obeyed.

She and I were playing with the Barbie House when the issue came back to haunt us. I asked her again to use the potty.

Later that night, I was tucking her in bed while reading her a story when we were once again struck in the face--and it was bad! At that moment I just point-blank asked, "Um Salem? What did you eat at school today for lunch? You are really having some problems here!"

She looked up and me and started to laugh. She quietly confessed to having (in her own words) "Chicken-Fart-Pie."

I about fell over I laughed so hard.