Satan's Kitty

For the record, I consider the place to be a hellmouth. Anyone with kids who has been in the hellmouth knows to duck their head and walk as quickly past the store as possible, always armed with a diversionary tactic or two. If a child says, "Look! It's Build-A-Bear!" you'll hear at least five adults in the vicinity automatically retort, "Look! It's ANYTHING BUT BUILD-A-BEAR!" It doesn't matter if it was their kid that made the statement; adults are always on High Alert to try to change the subject when within 100 meters of the place.

The Indy In-laws are currently in town for a visit, which means that Alexis is all about conning her Nana and Pops into doing her bidding. As we walked through the mall, Mr. Husband and I prepared ourselves to walk past the hellmouth. Nana, a seasoned Avoid Build-A-Bear Veteran, also knew what to do. All three of us started to walk a little faster and talk a little louder as we neared the store. When Alexis made her predictable decree, we all three were ready to change the subject and keep moving.

"Look! It's Hello Kitty!" Alexis said, pointing in the window.

She was initially met with silence as the Trained Veterans waited for someone to take the diversionary lead. But then Pops (Mr. Husband's stepdad) asked, "Oh, wow! Would you like a Hello Kitty?"


He learned. The hard way.

There is few other places on Earth where you will be charged actual money for the right to go insane. It starts with the generally fug-tastic stuffed animals, and continues on to the station where they show small children things that make noise. It's so completely unfair how they let kids push little noise-making buttons and then corner you into paying EXTRA so that the over-priced stuffed animal you are about to take home can make those same noises and then make you extra batty. Pops paid for Hello Kitty to say, "Meow," whenever Alexis so desires.

Awesome. I'm going to remember that when Christmas rolls around and I'm gift shopping for him.

Mr. Husband then joined in on the insanity by finding a pair of Hello Kitty underwear for Hello Kitty. They happened to be Hello Kitty underwear that look EXACTLY like a pair that Alexis already has.  Because, you know, nothing is more fun than giving your kid the ability to match her underwear to her stuffed animal's underwear.


If I find a hole cut out of Alexis' underwear, like there was for Hello Kitty's tail, there is going to be a hefty price to pay. I don't know who will have to pay it, but somebody will.

The only good thing I can say about the trip into the hellmouth is that at least it wasn't my money being spent. That is, after all, what grandparents are for, right?

I just have to figure out how to make sure the noisemaker thing goes home with them.

(Your eyes do not deceive you. Hello Kitty took a bath in suntan oil and then baked herself up real good before crossing through the hellmouth.)


A Change of Attitude

There is a barn that is kinda-sorta-not-really-but-almost-maybe near our house that is one of my many obsessions. It was abandoned a long time ago, and is just now hitting that absolute perfect level of disrepair and dilapidation that makes for an amazing backdrop to photos. I have an exact photo lingering in my mind, and every once in a while Alexis and I stop so that I can try to get that exact photo.

The barn is probably going to fall over before I get that photo.

I can get this:

but if I try to move alongside the barn so that I can get that shot that is stuck in my brain, this happens:

The short person takes off running and then breaks into a crazy dance.

Once she gets bored of that, this starts to happen:

She has seriously never met a dandelion she didn't want to destroy.

Once the dandelions are gone, it's back to dancing:

It's hard not to get frustrated with all the shenanigans when all I really want is that shot. I can see it in my head and I want to see it in my viewfinder so bad. I've been trying to get it for over a year. It'll take less than two seconds to make it happen. All I need is for one certain short person to stand where I tell her to stand for just a moment. A very short moment.

Thank goodness Alexis has taught me to enjoy and cherish and make the most of the moments as they are given to me, rather than dwelling on how things aren't going the way I want. It's that sort of "Oh, hell, let's just dance then," attitude that leads to shots like this:

It's not that photo, but it'll do just fine.


Who Knew?

Last night as I pulled into the driveway, Alexis started to cough. It was sudden and out of nowhere, except that the very second she did it, I realized it was like déjà vu to the fourth degree. The fact of the matter is that she has been sick four Saturdays this year, a most definite record, and each time it has been exactly the same. She didn't have a fever or any other outward signs of illness, but she's been sort of coughing and saying that she just plain didn't feel well.

The common denominator? She spent Friday evening playing in the dirt while I played softball.

It was the last softball game of the season, so it's really just dandy that I just now figured out that when the kid inhales fourteen pounds of fine silt as she rolls around in it like a Scrooge McDuck in his piles of cash, she has some sort of allergic reaction or something. WHOOPS.