Sidewalks and Doggie Poopie Bags - The Mine Fields My Mind Wanders Into

I was sitting with a friend and talking to her about her husband's Beeotch of a parole officer. I won't go into too many details about how this situation came about (how we got ourselves a parole officer) because it isn't my story to tell, but will say that the parole officer has mentally given herself much more power than she should be allowed and gets off on screwing with people's lives. Yeah, he got into trouble, but she really seems to make things as difficult as possible-- almost as though she's daring the person to get angry and do something that would violate the terms of the court.

My friend had called her and yelled at her about getting off of her butt and doing something that she was supposed to do... oh, about three weeks before (sign papers allowing her husband to come home). The parole officer gave her a song and dance about how this and that had to happen and how they changed the process, blah, blah, blah. The necessary papers had been signed by the Judge three weeks ago, but she hadn't gotten around to doing her necessary paperwork and was trying to tell my friend that it would take another two weeks or something. Plus, they had to mail over the paperwork.

My friend, who I love to death, says point blank, "Why don't you just walk your lazy ass over and get the fucking thing? AND, YOUR paperwork should have been done weeks ago. YOU dropped the ball. He was supposed to be home three weeks ago, NOW GET OFF OF YOUR FAT ASS!" (I may have messed that last part up, but I know it was close.)

I am equally delighted that she had enough guts to say exactly what she meant to say, and horrified that she's done this because with Murphy's Law at work in the world, she'll get caught doing something and get a parole officer. Specifically, that parole officer. So I start in on the "Okay, just... no killing anyone, no stealing, don't get caught pooping on the sidewalk..."

Oh jeez. It pays sometimes to think about what you are saying before it comes out of your mouth. Poop on the sidewalk?! We cracked up laughing. We laughed until our sides hurt, until tears were streaming down my face, until I felt like I would die laughing because I couldn't catch breath.

You might think that just that sentence alone really isn't enough to garner such laughter... and you'd be right. It wasn't the poop on the sidewalk thing, it was the speculation about whether you'd have to bring a poop scoop and if you didn't whether you'd get fined... whether a leash around your neck would keep you from being arrested... whether they'd be putting up signs showing a human stick figure with a leash around it's neck and a pooper scooper in its hand... and how exactly I would broach the conversation about whether pooping on the sidewalk was in the City Code or not.

It was an hour of disgusting hilarity I will never take back.

Conversations with Short Person

I sat down to talk to Short Person about owning a Bunny. We were at the park, sitting on the step to the structure. I was drinking coffee and she was sipping strawberry milk from her "coffee" cup.

I was attempting to make her understand how much care a Bunny would need and get her to talk about what her plans were in owning one. Attempting to figure out what she was going to do when she got him home, I'd ask such questions as "What are you going to feed it?" and "Are you going to cuddle with it?"

She seemed to have it in her head that she'd take it home, put it in its cage and when she got older she could play with it. I didn't quite get that and tried to explain that she'd need to play with it before she got older, to which she'd respond, "But see Mom, I'm older now." It was a confusing conversation.

We talked about the dogs and how daddy would miss them, and about how they might try to eat the bunny.

Finally (I thought) I'd made her understand that owning a bunny right now might not be a good idea. She sighed and seemed kind of sad for a minute and then looked at me and asked,

"Well, can I have a crocodile then?"

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Last night, LJS and Short Person sat down to re-watch Transformers with me. Neither of them had seen it. If you know how much LJS hates movies, you will note that this ranks up there with *shocking* on the charts.

I was worried about Short Person because there is a lot of shoot 'em up violence in it. I was worried about how this would affect her well-being.

In the movie, one of the Transformer's is named Bumblebee. He's a yellow camaro that transforms into a robot. Short Person latched onto him like a koala in a tree. For two hours it was "Where is Bumblebee?" "Is Bumblebee okay?" "Did Bumblebee get his feelings hurt?" "Are Bumblebee's friends coming to save him?"

LOL... She loved Bumblebee and the violence only worried her to the extent of whether Bumblebee was going to be okay.

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The other night I was limping. As occurs way too often for my taste, my knee slipped out of joint and then back in leaving this residual soreness mixed with a bit of "take it easy or it will do it again".

LJS looked at me and asked why I was limping and I told him. He chuckled and responded, "I think you're just getting old."

As is typical of the little rug-rat, Short Person looked at us and in a dead-flat voice said, "You're both getting old, Dad."

This, after a day at Grandma's. Grandma told her that she (Grandma) was special. Short Person responded, "Grandma, you're not special... you're old!"

Sheesh!

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I know somewhere in my memory bank there are more. She's been on a roll lately. Unfortunately, I can't think of any more.

Rest assured if I do, you'll be the first to hear about it!

I Ate Crow This Weekend and It was YUMMY!

Friday night I got together with a couple friends of mine to hang out and watch movies. I hadn't gone to the video store to pick one up, figuring that I might have a moderately non-girly movie that they hadn't seen that we could watch. (Apparently, I don't. They are all girly.)

Paul had a couple that he had recently purchased-- Fantastic 4 RTSS, and Transformers.

Sometime around the point where I was singing the Transformer's theme song and telling him that only 14-year old boys watch transformer movies, I was told that I was going to (basically) be tied to the couch and forced to watch the movie.

WHICH SO TOTALLY KICKS ASS!

I told him this, and all I can say is that I admire his restraint because had it been me, "I told you so" would have been written on my face, flying from my mouth, and written all over the walls.

Even the soundtrack rocks. I've so totally become a Transformer's fan, it's not funny.