weekly wrap

since my weeks are a little skewed from all others'.....a few words about this week...

the boys have sleeping troubles. the older one frequently sleep-walks to his little brother's bed and kicks the younger one out to sleep on the floor. sometimes one or both of them end up on the couch. one morning, boy the younger says, "i thought i felt something crawling on me last night and i whacked it with my hand and then i came upstairs to finish sleeping on the couch." i immediately threw the boy in the hot shower for a thorough scrubbing. see, that was also the same morning mister tad-the-dad discovered the dead body of our little mouse squatter on the floor of the laundry room, not far from where my boy-o sleeps. what a $500 12-month exterminator contract, a hunting dog, about 20 baited traps, 9 containers of poison, and umpteen glue traps cannot do, leave to Boy the Younger. my sleeping hero.

five quarts of baby formula. twenty-five 4-ounce jars of baby food. four 12-ounce bottles of chocolate ensure. one child under two en route to detroit. hello? in your carryon? if you don't want to check the bag, you have no other options. no, your child is not going to eat all of that food in two hours. no, it doesn't matter if it's sealed. no, i don't know where grocery stores are in detroit either, but i'm sure you'll manage; if you are so scared to leave your hotel in detroit, why in hell are you going there anyway? no, you can't take all of it with you. no. let's hear it once more. no. please continue arguing with me; i like this game.

try checking your kids bags (that they packed themselves) to make sure they aren't bringing things they shouldn't, like, oh, i don't know, huge bottles of lotion, gatorade, realistic replicas of weapons. no, really, that replica isn't actually the funniest thing i've seen in a while. your teeth come pretty close, though. yes i am serious when i say you can't take that on an airplane because other passengers would panic if they happened to see it in your possession. no i am not kidding. you should have stopped while you were ahead. do not ever swear profusely at an airport employee, nor stick your fat finger nor shake your fist in the face of said employee, especially if that airport employee is in a supervisory capacity. do not take pictures of your relatives being questioned for swearing profusely at an airport employee. you have no one to blame but your magnificently stupid self if you miss that flight. and, uh, good luck being allowed on the next one. if i was in charge, your ass'd be on the no-fly list.

when your child is throwing sand and hanging on every rope at the pool, and the lifeguards are blowing their whistles at your kid every 5 minutes, it might be a good idea to leave. no-no-no! i meant for your family to leave, not for you to wander off and go talk to someone and then realize your son is missing. yeah, the lifeguard whistle did get pretty quiet for a good long while. after you discover your kid is missing, it would also be a good idea to actually LEAVE THE FUCKING BEACH TO GO FIND HIM. and when strangers bring him back and tell you they found him in the men's room, ya might try looking or acting like you were worried...maybe a 'thank you' or a little grace or tact because you were totally in the wrong. oh, and yeah, go home now. WITH that kid. the one that is half-way to the volleyball pit, goddamn, woman, are you stoned? how the hell did you manage to reproduce with your mind like a steel sieve? how did you remember that tab A goes into slot B? sounds a little complex for you....

a man with fourteen toes. another way: dude has seven toes on each foot...an extra big "thumb-toe" and an extra pinky toe on each.

if you do not bring federal or state-issued photo identification with you to the airport, there is a chance that you could miss your flight. see, because i am charged with verifying your identity, grandma's vivid description of your birth into the world isn't cutting it for me, darlin. so then we fill out this form and make some calls to the state (hope they are open in your time zone) and then we wait for verification. i highly suggest investing some time in the department of motor vehicles, even if you don't drive. especially for the chain-smoking dude without any ID except for a casino (ummmm "frequent better"?) card. because every time you leave the secure side of the airport, you have to show some ID to get back in. even just to smoke a ciggy. you still don't have ID? guess what? we have to make some calls again. and yeah, we are just picking on you because it's fun. the highlight of my friggin day.

why do people abandon their elders in the airport? are they too lazy? can't be arsed to walk with them or push the wheelchair, exchange some conversation or just plain keep an eye on their aging kin? i can't count how many confused individuals come through every day simply because they can't hear or see me, don't really know what is going on or why they have to be able to take off their shoes. and really, i am truly sorry that i have to take away their belongings...maybe if they had some kin there to help out, it wouldn't be so difficult. is it that big of a waste of your life to sit with them for two hours? what if someone becomes ill, like my gentleman in line today? sweet old geezer. he knows it's monday; knows his name; can squeeze both of my hands equally strong; no slurring of speech; steady pulse; had a normal-sized breakfast for him; no history of medical problems related to diabetes, poor circulation, or heart trouble; and utterly alone in the airport. i talked with him for a while along with the police officers while waiting for the medics to arrive. i just can't believe how many grandparents (and astounding numbers of great-grandparents) are simply dumped at curbside check-in with a skycap, and left at the gate until their planes take off, sometimes for hours. heartless.

here ends the gossip of our goddess. (woooooweee. that was blasphemous weren't it?)