Saturday, April 28, 2012

hope in his eyes

My schedule is all messed up at work right now, due to all the end of year stuff, so I haven't been reading with my students as much. The other day, one of the first-graders I read with saw me walk into the room and a big smile spread across his face. He pulled off his headphones and with hope in his eyes he asked, "Is it my turn today?"

Oh, that sweet little boy! There is nothing like a small child to remind you how important you are in life.

Monday, April 23, 2012

is this my favorite actor?

If you ask my kids what my favorite color is, they will tell you I don't have one, because I like all the colors. And I don't have a favorite food, because I don't want the other foods to feel bad. The same goes for movies, books, songs, bands, and the like. I told them this when they were little because the question, "What is your favorite...blah, blah, blah" often came up.

In truth, I don't really like all the colors in the world, and I know foods don't have feelings, so I don't lose sleep over that. In truth, I don't have favorites because I just can't decide. How can I choose only one book to love? Or only one dessert? There are so many variables at any given time, I can't commit.

For me, this has never been a problem. Aside from taking a bit longer to choose from a menu, I think I have managed to live a rich life. For my husband however, my not having favorites must have been a bit of a bane; at some point in the last 18 years, he started assigning me favorite things.

I'm not really sure how he decides, but it is fun to guess what my "favorites" are. For example, when he buys ice cream and I say, "What kind did you get?" and he says, "Your favorite," it's like a game to guess which flavor it is. And, since my memory is bad, it's a game every time. Right now my "favorite" is Orange Cream, which I do really like, unlike a former "favorite," Butter Pecan, which I don't like at all.

I also have "favorite" actors and actresses, which can either be people I do enjoy, like Johnny Depp, or people I don't, like Helen Hunt, who annoys me almost to death. For awhile my "favorite" actor was Greg Kinear (?) but most recently it is Hugh...Jackman. (I just had to check with Max.)  And once, at the beginning of a show, I leaned over to Abby and said, "Is this my favorite actor?" to which she replied, "Yes."

Saturday, April 7, 2012

the great funeral potato famine

Tomorrow is Easter, so I am planning a dinner full of feast-y foods, including some standard Mormon-Mom dishes, like "Raspberry Delight" and "Funeral Potatoes." This is a treat around here since, although I am both Mormon and a mom, I am socially deviant and only make jello once or twice a year. I also typically avoid making dishes that have all my allotted daily calories in one serving, except on special occasions.

For those of you who have never heard of "Funeral Potatoes," take heart; they are not as morbid as they sound. They are simply some version of sliced, diced, grated or cubed potatoes mixed with a bit of onion, butter, cream of chicken soup, sour cream and grated cheese. If a person is extra fancy, they might add some crushed cornflakes on top.

Some people call them other things, like "Nauvoo Potatoes" or "Potato Casserole," but I call them "Funeral Potatoes" because in our church, when someone dies, it is tradition for the local church members to provide a meal for the family following the funeral. Most often, the church provides the meat and local members are asked to bring salads, desserts, rolls, and potatoes. And when someone you care about has lost someone they love, plain old potatoes just don't seem right.

But Funeral Potatoes are obviously very rich, so I only make them for funerals and feasts. Unfortunately, so does everyone else; late last night I sent Dave to the store to buy some frozen diced potatoes (by far the best way to go!) but they were out of stock. A store employee confirmed the potato supply was completely wiped out. None in the freezer case, none in the back.

Dave promised he will check some other stores this morning, but I am worried we will have no luck. We might be experiencing the great funeral potato famine of 2012...

Sunday, April 1, 2012

i am at the cinema

Last weekend we went to see the Hunger Games. Since Dave had already suffered through it once with Max, I took the kids by myself. This rarely happens. I am a strong, independent, resourceful woman, but there are certain things I prefer to avoid. Like movie crowds. And mice. And drains clogged with hair. So when I go to a movie, I go with Dave. He buys the tickets, and the overpriced drinks and I find a seat with the kids.

This time, without my brave knight, Abby offered to buy the drinks. Unfortunately, they were out of the flavors she ordered, and she ended up with two Pepsi Slurpees instead. But Max doesn't drink caffeine and as I'm diabetic, a giant sugary Slurpee is not my friend, so there we sat with an extra $4 Slurpee when Dave texted me to see how I was holding up.

The cheapskate in me hatched a brilliant plan: Dave could come get the Slurpee and drink it at home; Abby would walk it out to him when he arrived. They both agreed, and when the time came, Abby decided to take the popcorn out for a butter refill. When she left, I pictured her traipsing around the parking lot with a giant Slurpee in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other, and I laughed out loud; loud enough to catch Max's attention.

Right after that, my sister called. Since I didn't want to start a conversation just minutes before the show, I used an automated message option that comes up on my phone. Trying to act quickly, I saw one that said, "I am at the cinema." Not quite the words I would normally use, but close enough. I selected that option and sent the text. Laughing again, I showed Max what I sent. He laughed but said nothing more.

Until Abby came back. Then Max described to Abby what had occurred while she was gone:

"Abby, Mom laughed like this, 'Ah, hahahaha' (putting a hand to his chest) and then sent a text saying 'I am at the cinema.'" Apparently this was an extremely funny thing, because they both took it up and have been at it all week; every time I laugh out loud, they put their hands to their chests and say, "Ah, hahahaha, I am at the cinema."

And, when I texted Abby "good night" the other night, this was her reply:

I am at the cinema.

Which made me laugh out loud, of course, "Ah, hahahaha..."