Not to be a Debbie Downer, but...sigh..."It's official. The little red hen that Basementia Buddy traded us for a 12-pack of beer in a three-chicken deal is really a rooster." HH had suspected it because 'she' had a comb, but BB said that it was supposed to have a comb, that it was a Rhode Island Red. Yesterday, HH observed that 'she' is growing spurs.
I don't know which is sadder...The Pony asking HH every evening, "Did the chickens lay any eggs, Dad?" or HH thinking for five months that he was going to get two roosters to produce eggs.
We saw a beautiful rainbow on the way to school this morning, across the street from Basementia. Both ends were visible, and all seven colors of the spectrum. No pots of gold, though. Nor Skittles. Have you met my friend Roy G. Biv? That's how to remember the colors of the visible spectrum, you know. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. You're welcome.
Somebody at work stated that Sarah Palin is as equally mentally ill as the OctoMom. Though not a fan of Sarah Palin, nor Octomom, for that matter, I replied that I don't exactly think they are equivalent on the looney meter. The somebody snapped, "Why? Because she only had five kids instead of fourteen?" Which, upon hearing the tale, the #1 son, who is infatuated with Sarah Palin, said, "I guess we can call her the PentaMom." That's what it's like living with a nerd, in case you didn't know. Anyhoo, thank the Gummi Mary that at least one of the two is crazy enough to wear Arctic Cat clothing instead of attending a snowmobile race in her birthday suit, crazy enough not to get high and give an interview to 60 Minutes while giggling like a schoolgirl, and crazy enough to support the Special Olympics instead of being a role model for ridiculing its participants on national television.
I have an intestine in my 1st hour class. The student council went to Elementia to present a live act of the human body. The Intestine said he recognized my son because when he asked what nutrient was in milk that made it good for you, The Pony wiggled all over his seat, waving his arm in the air, and when called on, bellowed proudly, "CALCIUM!" That, my friends, is what it's like to live with another nerd. Let the record show that The Pony does not even drink milk.
When it gets down to 20 days of school left, I'm going to keep a running tally on the whiteboard. Though it would be more appropriate this year to have kept a running tally of days served, much like a prisoner or hostage trying to maintain sanity.
My faithful New Delly died this evening, only to be resurrected a few moments later. He had the blue screen of death, something about a fatal error and a data dump, then a recurring hiccup of 'Internet Explorer has stopped working' pop-ups that would not abate, even through Task Manager intervention. A system restore to last weekend perked my New Delly right up. If only life itself was so simple.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
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