Owls Inappropriately Harming Children And Other Things To Never Say

My last post was two manic Mondays ago, but rest assured the universe punished me for you.  It's been a long-ass week, Internets.  The awesomest part was being Goat Thing Of The Day over at Nanny Goats In Panties.  For obvious reasons, and because its proof that when I promise you handmade thank-you cards for being a faithful reader I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass.
 
Another fun thing was throwing  a Christmas party for the kids.  Summer be damned!

I did it for the children!

Tried to teach the girl child to ride her bike.  To no avail.  The horn and the bell definitely work, though.  I assure you.

Then this, and shockingly, nothing bad happened.

It is hot out there, people!

Something bad happened later though, when I splashed hot grease across my arm while cooking, and tried to soothe the burn by teabagging myself.

By applying actual tea bags to my arm, sickos.  And no, it didn't work any better than the time i tried to catch flies with an actual bowl of honey.  Cliches are big fat lies.

My lovely mother took both my kids for an afternoon and Mackenzie for a sleepover.  I wasted the first hour of no kids hanging out at my mom's house with my kids, but then I came to my senses and went home to refuse housework and productivity, and instead eat ice-cream on the couch and watch season three of Arrested Development.   It was awesome.

Bedtime rolled around and it was time for my mom to return my son, because he ruined the chances of future sleepovers for himself last time by sleeping across my mother's head and causing her "the worst night's sleep she had ever had in her life."  I totally feel her pain because he has caused the worst two years' sleep of my life.

 My mother was walking to the car with Jack when an owl hooted, commencing an irrational fear of owls for Jack, which he complained about the whole way home, by relentlessly repeating "Ow-woos scare me," and pointing at every passing car screaming "HE NOT AN OW-WOO!"  It didn't make sense to me either, but the face he makes when he says owl is hilarious, and so for the past two days I have been harassing him to say it.

ME:  Hey, Jack, do you like owls?
JACK:  No.  Ow-woos scare me.
ME:  They do?  How come?
JACK:  Ow-woos say "HOOOOOO HOOOOO." (Makes perfect O with his mouth and is adorable.)
ME:  Thats scary?
JACK: Yes.  Ow-woos hurt my penis.*

That is when I realized that my son had removed his diaper and had a sudden change of focus.  And also when I stopped trying to get him to say owl.

But I still think its funny.

At some point during the week my tiny ear holes nearly earned me a psych evaluation at the ER.  This is how I learned that when you are calling your doctors office to report weird side effects from your new happy pills, you should never use the phrases "...it sounds like her voice is inside my head," "it is driving me crazy," or "maddening" to describe your sudden changes in hearing no matter how non-insane it seems to you.  Trust.  It might not actually be a medication side effect, and might be more of a tiny ear hole being blocked.  This is not coincidentally how I also learned that it is horrifying to hear your mother tell you "you have the tightest, tiniest, slit of a hole I have ever seen",  no matter what context it is spoken in.  Even if she happens to be bending your neck at an inconceivable angle to shine a flashlight into your ear at the time.

Also this week I decided its time to go back on Weight Watchers.  Because nothing says "inspiration" like wearing your mother's fat clothes after she loses a bunch of weight.

Bite it, Owl.

*He also mentioned that a crab hurt his thumb, and that it was swimming in the toilet. For what its worth.