Gimme the Bawna, and Nobody Gets Hurt

I think maybe Orlando had the right idea when they were experiencing the great banana shortage of 2007. Alexis is now so obsessed with eating bananas all the time that it's becoming difficult to buy them. If she so much as catches a glimpse, she goes all ape (ha! how's that for a bad joke).

I have turned into a stealth banana shopper. I sneak around the produce department, carefully distracting Alexis as I secretly snatch a bunch and hide them below the other items in the cart. It's easier that way.

Daddy needs to learn the art of the stealth. Yesterday he learned why. I warned him twice "don't let her see them" but he didn't listen. Because, you know, your wife couldn't possibly be nagging you for a reason. So when he grabbed a bunch and dropped them in the cart RIGHT BEHIND ALEXIS IN PLAIN VIEW (gasp!), he got to see the Bawna Monster in action.

The Bawna Monster (she can't quite say banana, but she sure can say bawna) starts out by politely and quietly asking for a bawna. If it doesn't work, then she gets louder and less polite. Then louder yet, and even less polite. Finally, she just starts yelling "BAWNA" at the top of her lungs. Daddy thought he could escape the Bawna Monster by handing her the bunch. She taught him who's the boss by promptly yelling at him to peel her bawna. She loudly chanted "DADDY BAWNA DADDY DADDY BAWNA." There's nothing better than seeing the looks on strangers faces as they try to figure out what all the commotion is about. And since Daddy is a rule-abiding citizen, she had to go without the bawna until after he had paid for them. Poor, deprived Bawna Monster.


A Hole that Doesn't Need Filled

Ever since the iguana died, there has been a hole in our lives. It's about two feet deep, five feet tall, and four feet wide. Yes, there is a big empty space where his cage once sat. I was shocked (and thrilled) when Daddy threw away his custome-made monstrosity of a cage. But I haven't thrown a party yet. In fact, a whole two weeks have now gone by, and it's starting to look like I was right to be a bit hesitant with my joyful celebration.

A replacement animal is in the works. Daddy is now on a mission to find a turtle for the pond. Said turtle will move indoors for the winter because surprise, surprise, Daddy did keep all the essentials for getting some type of creature. So far, the gods of turtle acquisition have been helping me out. Turtles are on sale at Petco, but the four Petcos that Daddy has checked so far were sold out. The one store he found them at wanted more than double what Petco sells them for. So he waits. And tries to pressure me into calling every Petco in town to find him his turtle. Oh wait, it's not "his" turtle. He's trying to convince me that Alexis wants a turtle. Last time I checked, Alexis was happy with just having dogs and cats for pets, but whatever.

Now I must start a new game. The delay game. I'm going to see if I can delay the turtle purchase over and over again until Daddy forgets. It has worked in the past when he tried to bring home various critters, so wish me luck. I have a trip to Indy on my side. We'll be there all next week. It really wouldn't make sense to buy a turtle then leave it, now would it?


Like Mother, Like Daughter

I have a mantra that I like to adhere to anytime I happen to get sick. If I'm going to be miserable, then you are going to be miserable. I will go out of my way to be snippy, mean, and do whatever it takes to bring you down with me. I will not once complain about being sick; I just make sure everybody's miserable.

Of all the personality traits to inherit, Alexis has this one. And now the student is becoming the teacher. I truly admire the lengths she went through last night to make sure that nobody, and I mean nobody, missed out on her misery.

Alexis started to get a runny nose last evening and it turned into full-fledged congestion around 10:00. I know that it was around 10:00 because she woke up just enough to scream her little head off for five solid minutes. Then she went back to sleep. And then at 10:30, she went through the little routine again. And then at 11:00. And 11:30. And 12:00. Honest to goodness, every 30 minutes or so she woke up, screamed bloody murder, then went back to sleep. At some point I went and grabbed her and took her back to bed with me. You know, so that I could hear her better. There's no better way to get a great night's rest than to put a screaming child right up next to your ear.

I am absolutely going to employ this tactic the next time I fall ill. While I regret that our neighbor likely got drug into the fun (our windows were open all night and his are always open), Alexis managed to teach me a neat trick. If you scream a lot all night long, Daddy will cower on his own side of the bed with a pillow over his head and the dogs will leave to go sleep somewhere else. That is awesome.