The Cop Out

As this week wraps up, I find myself smack dab in the middle of summer. And since my brain is too fried to come up with a legitimate post, I'm resorting to the second-best cop-out. (The first being a haiku, and that's just too much effort). And so, dear folks, I bring you the list. The List of Un-Related Activities That Clog My Brain & Made Up My Week.

When your kids are eating dinner and a lizard the size of your fist decides to crawl up the wall? Don't scream like a banshee while you wave a broom and plea for mercy. Your kids won't sleep for weeks.

If your 3 year old suddenly decides to actually "swim" at her lesson (Face underwater! Legs kicking! Arms moving! Not drowning!) Don't scream like there is a lizard in your kitchen and make the gentleman sitting next to you poop his pants. He quietly muttered a "you scared me" in a calm, little voice and then sidestepped his poopie way to the exit.

If you happen to come down with a mysterious, summer virus that leaves you with stomach cramps, lethargy and no appetite- do not expect your spouse to notice, or convey any pity. However, when they are stricken with the same malaise three days later- the red carpets of nursing must be rolled out, stat. Combine that with lots of coddling, a written excuse from all parental responsibilities and a free pass for the grumpies. What you do to their soup however, is between you and God. No one else.

If you suddenly think your year old puppy is ready to roam free at night, do not stop crating him. Or you will suddenly realize your favorite pair of shorts no longer has a crotch. And your three year old will awaken and say "Mommy? It snowed in my room!" Only to realize that a certain stuffed Seussical Horton met his maker in a grim, shredded massacre.

So, there you have it. A stellar week of reptiles, incontinent strangers, swine-like flu and a Horton-Who-Can-No-Longer-Hear-A-Who. I hope next week is nice and boring. So I can write a haiku about it.