bug and the sweet banana

send in the hazmat crew

My littlest urchin used too much toilet paper and stopped up the plumbing. Not knowing how to fix the problem, she took the next-best step:


("Do not go in. Caution.)
© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

          A Riddle, Wrapped in a Mystery, Inside Pink Tulle
        Maiden In a Tower, Maiden On a Throne

The Truth About Tortillas

"Well, french fries are made from tortillas, so . . . " my little girl who was born in Texas professed over dinner.

"Tortillas? French fries are made from potatoes, love, not tortillas."

"What?!" Mind: Blown. "All these years, I thought they were from tortillas."

All these years. All seven of 'em.

© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

            A Refined Palate
            Risky Business
            Old Soul

The Doctors Are In

I'm not feeling well and asked Connor and Natalie to treat me gently this afternoon.

"Why don't you feel well?" Connor asked.

"My head aches. My joints hurt. My eyes hurt. I'm tired."

"It sounds like 'Arthur eye dis,'" Dr. Natalie professed.

"How do you know about arthritis?" Has she been reading medical journals?

"Well, not much. Just that old people have it, and it makes their backs hurt."

😐

"I don't think that's it," Connor countered. "For one, Mommy didn't say anything about her back hurting."

What? Not a word about the "old people" part, buddy?

"I think Mommy is just Seriously Wrong," he decided.

I, for one, hope that Seriously Wrong is curable.

© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana
       
                Scrumbles

That's a fact, Jack. Fact. F-A-C-T.

It's always a good idea to check children's homework:

© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana
           Charm School
        Damn Misunderstanding
        An Angel Underneath, Innocent and Sweet  

Solemn Warning

One of Natalie's daily writing assignments at school involves writing a few sentences and drawing a picture based on a random shape or line that the teacher draws on a piece of paper.

In this case, it's the black marker line that Natalie turned into part of a boot.

The text reads, "An ant is small. If you were an ant, you would be squished. You do not want to be an ant."

I love these assignments.
© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

        Doot! Doot! Doot!
        Paper Conservationists

Sound the Alarm

Natalie burst into my bedroom, interrupting the sleep that had played hide and seek with me all through the night. "Mommy! Mommy! Your eggs are getting old! They're drying out!"

If I hadn't already had all the children that I would like to have, I might have been offended. Hmph.

Those eggs? Scramble chicken eggs that Jim and Natalie made for breakfast an hour or so earlier. My share waited for me (not so patiently) in the oven, whose heat could very well dry them out. 


<sup>© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

        Burn One. Take It Through the Garden. Pin a Rose On It.
      Half Breakfast, Half Lunch</sup>

The Best Revenge

The best revenge for all the ear worms my two little urchins set loose: I put my spin on  songs from The Sound of Music and serenade them at bedtime, like it or not.

Example number one: I sing "Climb Every Mountain" but with these lyrics—with Mother Superior's operatic styling, of course:

                            Put away your laundry.
                            Get the socks from the floor.
                            Put them in your basket 
                            Or your dresser drawer.

And, then, there's "Edelweiss": 

                            Take my advice,
                            Take my advice,
                            You should go to sleep now.
                            Small and bright, you bathed tonight,
                            Now you look sleepy to me, to me.

Mama's got mad skillz. And now you've got earworms.
© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

        Thread Count
        Some Tea With His Sugar
        The Hills? They're Alive.

No Annie. No Bus. No Earworms.

Foolish Mistake #274: Telling my children which songs are my least favorite. They now sing "Tomorrow" (of Annie fame) and "The Wheels on the Bus" just to see my reaction.

(That reaction is usually along the lines of "Gah! Don't sing it! Gah!")

Saving grace: Natalie thinks the words are: "Bet my little bottom that tomorrow . . ."

© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

It's In the Trees
Lost Soul

Neatnik

Connor and Natalie had 16 days off school for winter break. Their first day back, this past Monday, Connor woke with pink eye. Return to school: False start: Urchin #1.

He stayed home, and we paid the pediatrician a visit. As I waited in line at the pharmacy, Connor wandered around the store. Pink eye must be all the rage in these parts: Neither this pharmacy nor another close by had the prescription eyedrops in stock. We had to galavant across town to a whole 'nother pharmacy.

But that's neither here nor there.

As Connor and I walked from the pharmacy to the store exit, a toy car display stopped me in my tracks.

"Is this your work?" I asked Connor, nudging my chin at the cars, which were organized by color.

"You know it."

An abashed note to locals: Grab a pack of Lysol wipes if you buy a toy car at the pharmacy. 
© Jennifer Linney | bug and the sweet banana

            Pink of Eye