Wednesday, May 17, 2006

B is for ...


Beer-battered chicken
Originally uploaded by toyfoto.
This morning as I revved up the car and eased it into gear, steering it sleepily toward Yaya's house, I looked at the fuel gauge and realized I'd have to gas up.

ARGH!

Halfway to the station, Annabel started clammoring for "tcholate ayes," and whimpering about her "hot milk" being "told."

Double ARGH!

I pump a small fortune into the tank and try to swipe my card to pay. It's offline.

Tripple-dog ARGH!

Unhooking her from the carseat, I tell Annabel we're going inside. She is ESTACTIC like I haven't seen for days. As soon as we get into the store she wants to get down and explore. She tells me she will find the "tcholate ayes."

I know this is going to take a while, so I go over to the central perk area and pour myself a steaming cup of "wait a cotton-pickin' minute you white-trash woman; Don't let your kid wreck our display items."

My image is indelibly etched as she finds the see-though refrigerator wall and, making her way down the aisle, gives a shout-out of its contents to the store patrons and staff: CHEESE ... AYES ... MILK ... JUTZ ... APPLES ... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!!

I'm so proud. Tomorrow I think I'm makin' fried bologna sandwiches for lunch.


YAYA REPORT
What's happening at the other mom's house

Annabel is up from her nap and she doesn't feel well. She's warm again, *sigh. She told Yaya she wanted "mama," so she called me. As usual once Annabel was presented with the phone she pushed it away.
For the rest of the day they'll be watching "Little Mermaid," and though punky, she's alert enough to be calling the dolphins "sharks." Lori tries to explain that no, these are "good fish! ... SEE? NO TEETH."
I'm not looking forward to the discussion about how dolphins are actually mammals. *sigh.

3 comments:

wordgirl said...

Hope Annabel is up and feeling better soon. Nothing sadder than a sick little one.

Andrea said...

I also hope Annabel is feeling better soon.

And the refrigerator littany is just hilarious! My son calls beer "Daddy juice", for the times when we have it in our fridge after a party or something. That's embarrassing when he points it out at a baseball game or town picnic.

supa said...

I do hope she's feeling better.

Pretty awesome that she can identify the beer. That'll come in handy later, when you send her to the fridge to get you some.