A Few Dirty Cups

Zoe's new thing is to move her hips back and forth while sticking her butt out, singing "shake your booty". It has gotten her out of trouble a couple times now, because it is the funniest thing I've ever seen, and she always pulls it out when I'm about ready to go bat shit crazy on her.

(I heard the term this week, and it makes me laugh - bat shit crazy)

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I think Morgan is learning more in 4 days of safety town than she did in all of pre-school. Granted, it is probably easier to learn practical knowledge than the alphabet, but I'm still impressed.

Fire Safety - Stop, Drop and Roll is still going strong. Also, she is not allowed to run back in a house that is on fire to get her pets or stuffed animals. So who the hell is going to save Potter? He can barely get down the steps when they aren't ablaze!

Stranger Danger - "I shouldn't talk to strangers even if they look like grandma's or grandpa's because they could be wearing a disguise and really be a bad person trying to steal me a away." Now she knows my biggest fear and why I can't breathe when I hear an "Amber" alert.

On Wednesday they got to ride on the school bus.
Morgan: "We rode on there for like a half hour."
Carpool Friend: "Yeah, it was like an hour. No, an hour and half minutes."
Morgan: "We passed McDonald's and Chick Fillet."
It's important to know your surroundings.

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I had an annual doctor appointment this week. I got there and the elevators were out, so I had to walk three whole flights! The nerve. Apparently, a telephone poll across the street had caught fire, causing the power to go out. The generator was only enough to keep a few computers running and the lights in the waiting room.

This caused mass chaos, but I'm still not sure why. There was much concern that they couldn't photocopy my new insurance card, even though she wrote all the information down.

Incidentally, how does a telephone poll catch on fire? This was a good hour before the alleged earth quake that I never felt, so it had to have been something else. Curious.

There was a woman in the waiting room (I love waiting rooms) that looked as if she had been locked in a tanning booth for a solid 12 hours. She had on high platform sandals, a mini skirt, tight American Eagle t-shirt and bleach blond hair. She was also at least 40 and wearing frosty pink lipstick. I described her to Scott as a stripper on her day off. Hey, they need the gyno as much as the rest of us, if not more.

On a positive side, they have changed out their flimsy white gowns for these huge robe-like sacks made out of scrubs material. So at least one does not feel like they will be totally exposed if the next telephone poll that catches on fire falls through the building and forces us to evacuate.

The last thing my doctor asked before she walked out the exam room (oh yeah, so it took me an hour and 15 minutes to be called back, 15 minutes with the nurse and 5 minutes with the doctor) was "so do you have any pictures to show me?"

"Hmm, they're probably the same pictures I showed you last year."

And she just laughed and said, "Now that's a real mom. We got too much other crap going on!" Hallelujah, Sister.

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Morgan said about 20 things this week that were hilarious, but I can't remember any of them.