Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Friday, April 8, 2011

Momisms (Part 2)

I am of the firm belief that there isn't anyone who hasn't been embarrassed by their parents, either by actions or by words, at one time or another.

Take my mom, for instance.  She mixes metaphors and analogies, misuses words and/or phrases, loses her train of thought, etc., but she is otherwise very intelligent and generally serious so much so that she doesn't get the punchline some of the time.   I've already introduced you to Momisms (Part 1), so here is a continuation of her flubs:

One day we were discussing gardening with one of our employees and the subject of fertilizing and composting came up.  Some people use horse manure, worm casings, chicken shit, vegetable waste among others.  Then my mom piped up with, "Bat iguana is supposed to be very good for the garden".  Bat iguana??  She meant "bat guano".

Heh.

Her explanation for my fast eating habit?  When I went to a boarding school for a couple of years, I developed a habit of eating quickly because of the little amount of time allotted between lining up at the dining hall, eating, having a smoke and then getting back to class or to go and spend some free time with my friends before the dreaded "study hall".  So, if someone would ask why I finished dinner long before anyone else, she'd say, "She sniffs her food".  No mom, I "inhale" my food.

Heh, heh.

This one is priceless:  The government here took a census last year.  A woman from the census came by one night but we did not hear her at the gate (one is supposed to announce their arrival here by honking their horns) so she left a note to call her at her office.  The following night, mom called and answered the census questionnaire over the phone.  When asked about my educational details, mom told her that I graduated "phi-beta-kappa".  Rolling my eyes and cackling,  I quickly corrected her:  "It's summa cum laude".

Bwhahahaha!

Yes, she reads this blog.

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Note:  While reviewing my article history, I discovered that my "Bloggaversary" was three days ago.  I know, I'm three days late -  again.  I'm going to have to start setting my calendar ahead three days (I used to set my watch ahead 20 minutes because I was always 10 minutes late).  Anyway,  I also discovered that I had not posted this even though I wrote it almost a year ago.  I don't know why.

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Friday, August 6, 2010

The Wild World of Sports

Some time ago I posted a story about my young cousin's early tryout in baseball.  Here is another instalment of Kevin's exploits to become a major player in the world of sports.  Like the first, this is a true story.

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To this day, and for as many years as I have aged, Granny still lives in the same split-level house that my sister and I grew up in.  Mom, my sister and I occupied the lower portion of the house, complete with a basement kitchen, and my grandparents lived on the upper level.  The upper living room was reserved for company, so the family gathered to the lower room to watch television and such.

The lower living room has many stories to tell - if only walls could talk!  The first diaper I ever changed was in this room (it happened to be Kevin's) and my supervisors at the time,  all of whom were women, neglected to warn me about the 'fountain of youth'.  Suffice it to say, it was my hazing into the realm of child rearing:  an "in-urination", so to speak.

Like most grandparents, ours had the ungodly task anticipated glee of maintaining potty training whilst the parents were off at work.   Granny was the brainchild of potty training.  She would scold us if we pooped in our pants so, to that end, we weren't allowed to wear any pants or diapers and a potty was set aside for us to use as and when needed.  If we were really stubborn, she would make us sit on it until we "made".

Flashing forward, Kevin is now a toddler in toilet training.  Kevin was a bit of a spoiled kid since his mother wasn't as determined to get him trained at an early age as Granny was.  "I'll be damned if I have to change diapers all day.  I've got better things to do with my time" - this was her litany and gospel.

It was shortly after Christmas.   Granny was on day three of her weekly babysitting duties and toilet training drama.  Kevin was particularly difficult on this day and thought it was now a game - he ran around the house naked from the waist down trying to escape Granny's grasp.   When she finally caught him, she promptly scolded him and sat him down on the potty, threatening an ass slapping should he move.

While Kevin sat pouting, Granny went back to her chores.  From the upstairs kitchen, Granny could keep an eye on Kevin while she went about her business.  He had been sitting there for awhile when the phone rang.  It was my sister calling long distance from the west coast.  My sister and Granny could talk for hours.  So, about twenty minutes into the call, Granny realized she hadn't checked on Kevin and asked my sister to hold while she looked in on him.

Now, many parents should know that kids will get bored very easily, and Kevin was no exception.  I guess he heard Granny chatting away and decided to do anything but sit on the potty and went to play with some of his toys.

The following is what my sister heard over the phone:

"Oh, Kevin!  What the hell are you doing?  No!  Stop that right now!  Oh, Jesus Christ!"  Granny scrambled back to the phone, told my sister that she had to go because, "There is shit all over the place, it's on the floor, in the carpet, all over the walls!  I'm going to kill that little bastard!"  Granny was almost in tears.  In the background, my sister could hear Kevin yelling, "Hockey, hockey!"

Kevin got a toddler-size hockey stick for Christmas that year.  "The bugger shit on the floor and used it for a puck.  It's everywhere", Granny said.  Cackling wildly, my sister said, "I'll call you later."

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Kids Can Do The Darndest Things

The following is a true story (really, I can't make this shit up):

My mother and my maternal aunt and uncle all had kids, and I am one of seven grandchildren.  Like all grandparents, ours had the unfortunate job inevitable joy of looking after us at one time or another, not all at the same time of course, while our respective parents were at work.

My uncle was quite an athlete when he was younger and would watch and involve his sons in many sports as they grew up. He has three boys, the eldest, Kevin (not his real name) being about sixteen years younger than me.  All of his kids would follow in their father’s footsteps by joining hockey and baseball teams at very young ages.  They all played extremely well, I might add.

Before his brothers were born, my grandmother would look after Kevin for a few days a week.  Kevin was about two years old during this time.  When Granny had to run errands, Kevin would be loaded into the obligatory car seat and taken along for the ride.  These trips were usually uneventful.

Usually.

Like most toddlers do when you are not watching them, Kevin would get into mischief.  So, after returning home one day from shopping, Granny left Kevin in the back seat so she could keep an eye on him while unloading the groceries that were, in those days, still packed in brown paper bags. This would take a few trips back and forth from the car. On her final trip, she was horrified to discover the entire interior of the car had been egged:  it was all over the back seat, the front seat and Kevin was covered in it.  The last and final grocery bag had contained a carton of eggs which had been placed right on top and which was located right beside Kevin in the backseat.

Apparently, Kevin got bored while waiting to be liberated from the car.

Now I'm not sure exactly what was said, but from what I understand, it went something like this:

Granny, not normally known to use expletives, yelled at him, “What in the HELL did you do?”, to which Kevin excitedly cheered, "Baseball!!"




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 Theme Thursday is having a "Ball" - check out the others!