A Bird in the Hand

This morning, Savvy came down to breakfast and Aussie said, "Watch out! Don't step in the bird poop!"

"Bird poop?" I asked, highly disgusted.

Savvy answered, "Yah mom, it's been there for like 3 days--when are you going to clean it up?"

So, I investigated the so-called bird poop. Using my brilliant detective skills, I deduced that the brown and white schmear on my tile was actually a few crumbs of my sis-in-laws delicious "Better than sex You Know What" cake.

{But, it did look quite a bit like bird droppings--not to be rude or anything.}

I informed the children {who thinks their mother runs an aviary out of her kitchen} of this and then asked, "So, how exactly would bird poop get in our house?"

Savvy's answer: "I figured maybe a bird flew in the door and (our cat) Elvis ate it--that's why he's so chubby."

Aussie's answer: "If we get flies in our house, why not birds?"

Why not birds?

I'll tell you why. First of all, eeeeew! Disgusting!

Secondly, I have made a covenant {a two way promise as we have learned in FHE} with PETA that if they keep their deeply-loved-yet creepy-disgusting-germ infested-dive bombing-poop dropping-birds out of my house then I will not go

Wimbledon all over the place.

I mean, really.

The Unsinkable Purple Pleasure

One random belt which was fine before the water test fixed: $150

AC Blower Bearings: $300

Replacement of supposedly cracked AC Blower Housing Unit: $150

Getting ripped off to the tune of $600.

Priceless.

Our big purple mini-van was in the shop (again) on Saturday. We seem to be averaging an-every-6-month-plundering-and-pillaging at various mechanics around Utah.

As many times as we have had Purple Pleasure in the shop--you would think we would've found our dream mechanic by now..but alas no.

This time, we took P.P. into Tunex. Our AC blower has been making a lovely high pitched squealing noise--and when it got to be so loud that I couldn't even talk on my cell phone--we decided it was time to get our trusty P.P. into see the doc.

Tunex promised they'd fix our car in no time. A few hours later we picked up P.P. We paid our $150 for a belt that we didn't ask them to fix so they poured water on it & broke it into a million pieces (he claims it's a common test--whatev).

Then DH got into P.P., started her up, and discovered that they hadn't fixed the problem He went back into Tunex and mentioned that the noise was still there.

Tunex dude said, "Oh, yeah. I was going to tell you, I think your blower is going bad--you might want to have that looked at. It will probably only cost around $150."

DH said: "Well, that's actually why we brought it in was to have the blower fixed."

Tunex Dude: "Hmmm. Well, we closed a 1/2 hour ago--you'll have to bring her in next week."

So, we drove home with a brand spankin' new belt..that didn't do a dang thing for P.P's squealing issue.

Today, we took P.P. back in for some fixin' of the blower. A few hours later, they called to say it would be $300. An hour after that, they called to say that the blower's housing unit was cracked which I suspect happened when they took a hammer to it and needed to be replaced--for another $150.

For a salt in the wound moment: Tonight at enrichment, I was telling this shenanigan to my newest BFF, Pam. She told me of the love she had for a great mechanic who was so stinkin' honest -- sometimes he pays you to come to him (well--maybe not quite THAT honest).

She further added lemon into the $600 wound--when she told me the mechanic's location--he's 6 blocks away from Tunex. I guess it is nice to know where I'll be headed in December.

Curse you Tunex!!

Blame it on the brain Sun

On Thursday and Friday, I had the thrilling opportunity to sit during the freakin' hottest time of the day sun for 4 hours watch my darling daughter, Jay, participate in a swim meet.

Jay did great (improving on most of her times) and the two of us had some good bonding moments (okay--mostly I spent my time spying on her and the love of her life...a cute boy on the swim team).

So, here's the thing--Sun+Nicole=Shenanigans. Too much sun makes me physically ill--I mean it really wipes me out. Factor in the whole fair skin thing--and I'm a walking, talking, complaining lobster after 30 minutes.

At the end of the meet Friday, I was feeling pretty good about my interaction with Mr. Sun. It hadn't had any ill effects.

As a matter of fact, I was even feeling good enough to stop by the library and pick up the 3 books I had on hold {Frindle for Aussie, A Lion and a Lamb for me, and The Thirteenth Tale for me}.

I didn't want Jay waiting in the hot van, so I asked her to come into the library with me. She hesitated because she was still channeling her Au natural look in her swimsuit & shorts. But, I promised her we'd be quick -- and so she gave in.

The minute she gave in and shut her locked door behind her...was the minute I realized the keys were still in the ignition. We were locked out--with no cell phone (because why would we need our cell phones in the library when they are contraband?).

Luckily, I had ONE phone number committed to memory--so I called my good friend, Mary and she was able to pick us up and take me home to get a key.

I blame the sun.

Mr. Sun continued to plague me throughout the weekend. You may recall my embarrassing loss of a vital piece of underclothing at my sisters?

I blame the sun.

And then there was today. We had planned to have a family BBQ with my DH's brother and sister-in-law and kids. KT was bringing the beef and I was providing the divinely marinated shish-ka-bob chicken and delectable veggies. M-mmm Good!

There was only one problem. I forgot to make the chicken. Oh sure, I remembered to make my mandarin orange tapioca salad (a crowd pleaser) and my cranberry-spinach green salad. But, the main course? Nada. Zilch. Nothing.

You can bet that as the guests arrived--I placed the blame where it was duly warranted.

Oh that Mr. Sun. He is a tricksy one.

The Sunday Funnies

My Desperate Househusband (thanks JO!) and I are speaking in church next Sunday. DH was the one approached by our first counselor--so he was given our topic.

During Sacrament meeting, I wrote him a note asking "What are we supposed to speak about?"

Knowing that I am not the deepest oar in the ocean--He wrote back, "Teaching the words of Isaiah to your families and relating it to their daily lives."

I'm sure the look on my face was priceless...but I promise...it only took me a minute to know he was joking.

Our real topic? Why are we Members of the Church (obviously--for me at least...it has nothing to do with Isaiah).

From the Mailbag..for a Spy Like Her...

So it appears that I have a secret spy Mel, my BFF from high school and college reading my blog.

She refuses to reply as then she wouldn't be secret or a spy.

But, Mel the spy sent me an email to inform me that she had indeed been reading my blog and was {please excuse the gratuituous plug for myself} enjoying herself immensely.

Then Mel the Spy then asked a question which I think deserves some attention.

"To Whom it May Concern: What does DH stand for?"

Mel's the Secret Spy's guesses included: Dear Hubby? Dumb Hooligan? Dirty Hair? Darling Heartthrob???

My answer:

"Dearest Mel the Spy:

With my past use of the acronym, DH--I've always thought of him as Darling Hubby...but I do like your suggestions and I've decided that not only are your monikers creative...but they have all been true at some point in time...

Sincerely,
Nic of her Shenanigans "

P.S. Umm...DH sorry if you are reading this...I plead the fifth...it's Mel's the Secret Spy's fault really...

P.S.S. I already know what my baseball lovin' DH assumes his initials stand for...Designated Hitter.

P.S.S.S. So what do you think DH should stand for?

PSA on Wild Parties

I went to a wild party last night and lost my bra.

Okay, I guess I should clarify this because I'd hate for you to get the wrong idea--after all--I am a somewhat upstanding member of my community.

My sis, Jilly, and I have been planning a family sleepover party since May (this happened--when we looked at our calendars and discovered that both of our husbands would be out of town the same week--which was a definite cause for a party...and since we didn't want CPS after us we decided to

invite the children).

Then, last week my DH's trip got cancelled.

But, being the fabulous DH that he is, he assured me, that he was absolutely fine if I wanted to take the kids over to my sisters house and leave him all by himself. He promised he wouldn't be crushed in the least to have the house to himself, the TV/tivo to himself, the basement to himself, black beauty to himself...etc.

So, with my DH's blessing...the chitlin's & I were off to Jilly's house for a rendezvous divine.

On the way there, the kids discussed what they had brought in their backpacks.

Savvy asked Aussie.."Did you bring Blackie (his favorite stuffed animal)?"

Aussie, bravely replied, "All I brought with me are my guts and my dignity." {This statement would set the tone for the rest of the excursion.}

We arrived at my sisters house. As the kids raced from the van, screaming a warlike yell--I just knew this would be a party to remember.

By the time I got everything unloaded (okay, so it was 2 bags) and plopped myself down on the couch--Jilly and I realized we were both too tired to part-ay (I had spent 4 hours at a swim meet in the heat of the day and Jilly is 8 months pregnant).

Our lack of partyingness did not deter the children in the least. With daylight savings as their guide..they headed over to the park and played till about 915.

Then they came home and we spread out blankets and pillows in front of the TV and turned on Shrek 2.

Add a little popcorn and sprite to the mix--and you've got yourself a humdinger of a party. The kids watched their movie whilst Jilly and I visited, ate popcorn and drank DC (mostly me drinking the DC). Around eleven, the movie ended and we got the kids ready for bed.

This morning, we all got up. Then the kids headed to the park, while Jill cooked up a great breakfast of pancakes.

After breakfast (still in my PJ's), I packed up the kids and we headed back home to get ready for Jay's swim meet.

I had been home all of a half hour when Jill called to inform me that I had...
...left my bra on the side of her bed.

And this Loyal Readers...is where my PSA comes in to play...

One of the risks of being invited to a wild party is losing a piece of your underclothing...and quite a bit of your dignity.

{Following the wise words spoken by my son...at least I left with my guts.}

A Good Book...

This month for book club we read "The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency" by Alexander McCall Smith.

I wasn't able to go to book club last month when they chose the book (May was the month of the sick at our house), so I knew nothing about it except for the title.

I thought...could it be...a fluffy book...perhaps a spin-off of "Charlie's Angels"? No such luck. BUT, it was a darling book nonetheless.

"The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency" is based in Africa. It is about the life of an African woman, Precious, who starts up her own detective agency.

Each chapter is a different story about how Precious solves crimes with good, old-fashioned common sense. I thought the story was very clever. I liked it so much that I plan on reading the rest of the series.

{Best of all...each person (out of 7) in our book club--actually finished the book and even enjoyed it (the ages of our book club ladies range from 36 (I'm the baby) to 65ish--finding a book we ALL liked is a first for us!}

So, if you are looking for a fun & quick book to read this summer...check out "The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency" -- and let me know how you like it!

{Oh--and next month's read? "A Lion and a Lamb" by Rand H. Packer...has anyone had a chance to read it? I'll keep you posted.}