An Epilogue

ep·i·logue: n. 1. A short addition or concluding section at the end of a literary work, often dealing with the future of its characters. Also called afterword.

This past weekend, Savvy was trying to finish her book, "The Tygrine Cat" so she could work on her book report which is due next week.

On Saturday, I asked her how many pages the book had and she told me 242 pages . On Sunday, I asked her to remind me how many pages the book had and she informed me that she only had to read 235 pages.

"How did the number of pages in your book change?" I asked.

"Because I figured out that seven of those pages were the epilog-you. And I never read the epilog-you," she answered.

"Savvy, first of all, it's not 'epilog-you.' It's
'ep-i-log'," I said. "And second, you have to read the epilogue. It sums everything up, ties it all together and sometimes tells you about what happens in the future to the characters in your book. It's the best part."

(Admittedly, sometimes when I am reading a really boring book...I will skip to the end--read the last chapter and the epilogue if there is one. I like to call it book closure.)

"So do I really have to read the epilog-you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "You need the closure that only the epilogue provides."

{Enter. Puzzled look here.}

"Okay, mom?" she said.

{They're so obedient at age 10. The teenager would've likely told me I was a geek.}

The Sunday Funnies

On Friday, I had to make a quick stop at Smith's to pick up some last minute things a 24 pack of diet coke for our craft night.

Savvy was with me and as we were leaving the store she noticed a big display of
Monster Energy Drink.

"Wow! That's a lot of alcohol," she said.

"That's not alcohol. It's an energy drink," I said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It's a drink that revs you all up and makes you hyper," I said.

"Ohhhh. So it's like catnip?" she asked.

{This kid has a one track kitty mind.}

Geneology...we're not doing it

Last week, Auzy came home and wanted me to google our family tree.

"We don't need to google it," I said. "I have it in a file right here."

Of course, then I remembered that El Jefe had reorganized all of our files..and I had no idea where he had filed it.

All afternoon and evening, Auzy begged me, "Please find our family tree, please-oh-please."

"Auzy," I asked. "Why all of a sudden are you interested in our family tree?"

"Because lately everyone has been talking about all the famous people they are related to..and I wanna know what famous people I am related to," he said.

"I can tell you right now we aren't related to anyone famous," I said.

"Oh great," he said, very sadly.

Then I asked him what famous people his friends were related to.

"Well Cardon's uncle started the Creamies ice cream company and Connor's great-great-great (someone) killed Abraham Lincoln," he said.

"Sheesh, you don't want to be related to a murderer do you?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. "If it meant I'd be related to someone famous."

"Auz. I think you are going to have to step up and be the famous one in our family," I told him.

"How about if I become a famous comic strip artist?" he asked.

Works for me.

{Especially if it doesn't involve a life sentence.}

A Case Lot Sale Shenanigan

Last week, I took advantage of our friendly, neighborhood Harmons' case lot sale..and bought a case of tomato soup.

I grabbed the top box, loaded it into the cart, and continued on my quick little shopping spree.

When I got home, I noticed that the bottom of the box was full of sugar. It appeared that a bag of sugar had leaked all inside my box.

Jay walked into the kitchen as I placed the box of soup on the cupboard.

"I thought you were just getting a couple of cans of soup?" she said.

"It was on sale," I explained. "So, I bought a case. And wouldn't you know it...the soup that I buy is the only one full of sugar."

"Mom," she laughed. "What are you talking about? I'm sure there is the same amount of sugar in each can of soup."

Then I started to laugh. "No, look inside the box. It is full of sugar," I explained.

I think that Harmons case-lot ads should say:

Spreading Joy. One Case at a Time.

The Sunday Funnies

Ever since school started, Jay has begged me to pick her up in the parking lot of her school...rather than sit in the line and make her wait.

The problem is that Savvy and Auzy get picked up on the same campus as Jay and they are always late coming over.

Plus, Jay's cell phone is broke--so there is no way to get a hold of her when I arrive.

As a result, I have never given into her request.

Last week, the twins had band practice till 4 pm.

Since the line was quite long, I decided to try Jay's little trick.

I pulled into the lot and drove very slowly down the front aisle of cars.

I didn't see her.

Curses.

I approached the end of the aisle and stopped for a car to pass.

Still no Jay.

So, I turned left, drove down the parking lot, and went around the corner to get in line.

As I waited to make a left turn to get in line, I noticed the lady in the car in front of me was sticking her hand out the window and pointing backwards at me.

I had no idea what she was doing.

Crazy lady.

I figured I must've ticked her off somehow it happens.

Hoping she wasn't going to jump out of her car-- and go nuts on me, I got in line and ending up waiting for about ten minutes.

When Jay finally got in the car, she said, "Mom! I can't believe you! Couldn't you hear me knocking?"

"What?" I asked.

"I saw you and knocked on the back window. Just as I was about to open the door..you drove off," she said.

"What the? I promise I didn't see you," I said not wanting to admit I had Keith Urban blasting pretty loud--I mean what kind of safe driving example would that set for my teenager?

"Mom. I totally knocked on the window and when you pulled off--I started chasing you down the parking lot, and around the corner...until I finally gave up," she said.

I was laughing pretty hard by now, "Jordyn! How embarrassing!" I said.

"Tell me about it," she said. "All my friends saw me, and when I came back to wait for you they were all laughing at me."

She was beyond mortified.

Then it hit me the crazy lady wasn't pointing at ME. She was pointing at my crazy daughter chasing crazy me--the entire length of the parking lot.

I don't mean to be redundant...but how embarrassing!

The Tardy Monitor

This morning, we were running a bit late.

As I sped to school, (that 20 mph school zone nearly did me in)--Savvy said, "Oh man! I'm going to be late for school! It's going to be so embarrassing, because I'm the tardy monitor!"

Auzy replied, "I'm guessing it's going to be pretty easy to sweet talk yourself out of a tardy slip."

Just had my morning cry...