February 2010 | Kelley's Break Room

Rats in Hats

Right now, I am all about this song written & sang by Kara DioGuardi (singer/songwriter/judge on American Idol): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTeBtw9Jhsc. I love it, I love it, I love it (picture Molly Shannon here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeVkjLx7Xng )! Hold on, y'all. Give me a minute. I have to catch my breath. Hahahahahahaha.........aaahhhhhhhhh....hahahahaha!! Oooohhhh, me. What I wouldn't give to make a living yelling "I love it, I love it, I love it!" like that.

I am so procrastinating on doing things I really should be doing so that I can type some nonsense all up in this blog. I need a babysitter. I need someone to march my behind back into my room and make me clean my cluttered closet out. I need someone to hold my nose in my clothes pile while saying "no, no! Bad girl!" Just the other day, a family of well-dressed rodents (top hat, petticoats & all) came out of there and said they had had enough. I'm kidding, of course, but only about the top hat. No, I'm kidding again. You never can tell with me, I know.

Enough of that mess (pun intended...don't you like when people give you direction on whether or not the pun was intended?) and on to THIS mess- my little dudes. I have discovered life is better if we stay outside all day. They love being out there. I asked Austin last time we were at the park where he was going to sleep that night- with the nutria, under the slide, in the bathroom with the burglar bars... I told them if we didn't leave I was going to have to heat up a mean mulch, grass and rock stew that they were just going to love! The boys never want to leave the stinkin' park, I tell you. I enjoy

being there, too, but when the family of nutria waddle over and ask if we'll be staying a while because they've made roast beef and have plenty to share, I think we've crossed a line! People come and go (we've actually seen a little girl go from being pushed in her stroller to riding a unicycle all in one visit) but we remain. I know I loved being outside as a child and I want my sons to have fond memories of playing pirates at the park, but GEEZ LOUISE!

I am now pulling the shutters down into the window of my mind for your sake. Trust me. It's for the best.

Mountain Dew Frappucino

Good morning, JP! I am going to keep JP's identity mysterious (though, obvious to some of you). SHE is my hearin'-ear-human and I value her friendship immensely. She is also one of my paid readers of this blog. I was chastised by her for not updating more frequently. I am updating, but it won't be long. "Tie-you" ("Caillou") only lasts 33 minutes on the DVR and it's been on for a few already. There isn't much going on around here, except that someone IS running a business inside this house. Do not report us to the IRS. I haven't even met the person using our house as a business front. There is a Starbucks barista in this house somewhere. I know Landon and Austin are getting shots of espresso from an unknown source. They are CONSTANTLY in motion. Either there is a Starbucks or a vending machine which only dispenses Mountain Dew. Mountain Dew... I have never had a sip. The name makes me think of Mountain arm-pit sweat. If mountains had arm-pits, you'd wring them out and find that the liquid was Mountain Dew. There is probaby a mountain range with arms in China and that's where the drink comes from.

You know everything is made in China and...have you seen some of the mountains over there? Some of 'em just ain't raht. Back to the Starbucks situation... The espresso-making may be happening in the guestroom closet. If I were to go check in there now, I could leave thinking she wasn't in there making a morning frappucino for my dudes, when she is really in the corner under the wrapping paper heating milk like nobody's business. Now that I am realy thinking about it, I do vaguely remember seeing steam coming from the corner the other day when I was looking for a gift bag. I was running late, as usual, and meant to investigate that further when I returned. She is probaly making them a Mountain Dew Frappucino. Wait 'til I find her. I'll ask her to make me a petite/short/little-bit/dainty one (are one of those before Tall, Grande & This-thang's-huge?) so I can keep up with the little stinkers...that I love dearly, of course. Dang it, I can tell Tie-you is about to wrap up. Before I conclude, let me just say that I am either going to stop this blog altogether or will make it private. If you'd like to read it here and there, let me know & I will add your e-mail to the "invitation list".

I heart subtitles

During the last post, I mentioned that I pray for my sons every night, like many parents do. I need to add another bullet point to my nightly prayer or put it in the rotation at least. I need to begin praying for my sons to have good hearing. So far it appears they both do unless I am asking Austin to do something he really doesn't want to do and then it seems he morphs into Austin Keller.

As for me, let's be honest, I can't hear a dang thing. I use subtitles when I watch TV, people. I wonder how much money my parents slipped Chris to take me and my shot ears off their hands. With me, it wasn't only shot ears, it was also shot eyes (glasses, contacts...now I am post-LASIK) and shot teeth (braces). I'm not sure how long I have had a hearing loss. I know I passed the hearing screenings in elementary school (after slipping the nurse some cold hard cash) and made good grades, so I must've been hearing the teacher okay. Maybe I was already a master lip-reader.

In my Audiology class at UT in 1995, my professor sat me in "the room" to discuss my horrid hearing problem. He said I would very likely need hearing aids in the future. I said, "Hear this, man, I ain't wearing no hearing aids!" I have since been told that by some other audiologists (and by my husband, son, parents, friends, neighbors, cousins, mailman, cashier, zoo keeper, dentist, guy from Terminix, Kiwi Carpet cleaning man, toll booth operator, the guy that loads the luggage onto the planes and receipt high-lighter at Wal-Mart). I actually should've known there was a problem way before all these nice people had to get involved. I should've known my ears were like a Maude's, Pearl's or Nadine's when I was working at the snack bar at the local skating rink just last week (alright, alright...it was about 20 years ago).

"What's that you needed, Skateguard? A PayDay candybar? Back in a flash!" Bam, I laid that sucker down. He then said (probably as he was skating backwards with his figure 8 moves), "Uhhhhhh, excuse me? I said a BAND-AID!!" Waaaaaahhhh!! Stories like that are common with me. Still, the way I see it, as long as Austin's ears work (he lets me know when the oven is beeping), as long as my friend Jennifer sits next to me when listening to anything important (she is my hearing-ear human) and as long as Chris stays married to me and continues to tolerate subtitles, I'll continue to postpone the hearing aid bit. That would really interfere with my plans to buy a dining room table. Hearin' aids are 'spensive!