Tag Archives: humor

Our Little Gold Digger

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We sent Piper to the mines yesterday. She’s been lazing about for five whole years. We figured it was time she learn what child labor is all about. And somebody has to help pay for Sissy’s fancy mountain camp. Geez.

Piper went on her mining expedition with her Nana and Papa to the world famous Elijah Mountain Gem Mine. They got their Little Miner’s bucket of dirt and began sifting. And sifting. And sifting. Mining treasures is hard work, but Piper persevered. “You know,” she said, “I’m just really good at this mining thing!”

Turns out, Piper has a knack for mining. She struck it rich! She came home with bags of genuine gem stones.

We set up our own gem cleaning station. Piper’s been hard at work ever since. She’s been washing, scrubbing, sorting. We’re not entirely sure what the glowing one in the bucket is. It’s either real gold or too much flash on the camera. Either way, Piper may have found her true calling.

On the Catwalk

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We’re visiting the grandparents this week. As I mentioned yesterday, Piper did her own packing.

After a long day’s drive, we arrived to a home cooked meal and a cozy cottage. The cousins were reunited. There were screams of delight and joyful hugs.

Then Piper climbed up on a kitchen stool next to Nana, looked her up and down, and declared, “Nana, you aren’t very fashionable.”

Nana busted out laughing. Then she explained that as a scientist who travels the world teaching about conservation she hadn’t really gotten around to fashion.

Piper listened intently. Then she said, “And Papa married you anyway?”

This from a girl who alternates her tutu daily.

Nutella: Let Me Count the Ways

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Piper is enjoying what we’ll forever refer to as “The Summer of Nutella.” You know the hazelnut chocolate spread?

She wants it on everything. She likes to keep an extra smear on her chin “for later.”

“Nutella’s the perfect topping!” Piper says. “If you put it on something healthy, like oatmeal, it’s still healthy underneath. It’s magic, really.”

Piper has requested a healthy dose of Nutella on the normal stuff: toast, strawberries, crepes, each of her fingers. She’s also tried to convince me to spread it on: veggie dogs, cheese, tortilla chips, each of her fingers.

I admit that she’s even inspired me. After I put Piper to sleep last night, I pulled out a buffet of other things we hadn’t previously dipped: cheese puffs (yuck), crab chips (surprisingly not terrible), goldfish (eh), animal crackers (yum), and pita crisps (awesome).

Tonight, though, we entered true Nutella heaven. We went out for dessert to a new cafe. Piper was expecting something good, but nothing like this:

I’d tell you how good it was, but Piper wouldn’t even share a bite.

The Case of the Missing Lalaloopsy

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Alice is missing. I know. I know. It’s tough news to take. When you’ve grown as attached to a six-inch-plastic Alice and in Wonderland as we have, it breaks a Piper’s heart. As best we can discern, she went rogue somewhere between Piper’s bedroom and the front steps of our townhome. It’s a lot of ground to cover. Here is Alice in happier days. Sniff.

Lalaloopsy Mini Figure 2Pack Wacky Hatter Alice in Lalaloopsyland

We’re distraught, but we’re trying not to panic. It won’t help Alice. Keep calm and carry on. Wherever you are, Alice, we won’t rest until we find you.

Until then, the game must go on. I mean, once you’ve covered every inch of the living room space with “Lalaloopsy Land” and you’re gearing up to play the make-believe game of the century, you can’t let a thing like a missing Alice stop you. Sissy to the rescue!

I’m not saying that a one-dimensional Alice on high-quality printer paper cut down to size can take the place of the real thing. I’m saying that when a Piper is crying, desperate times call for desperate measures. Sissy solved the immediate problem, if not the case.

So, until Alice climbs out of the rabbit hole and returns to reality, we’ll be waiting. Happily.

Who Took the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?

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Who me? Couldn’t be. Then who? Piper took the cookie from the cookie jar. Are you singing along yet? Sorry ’bout that.

I caught Piper tonight between her fourth and fifth giant chocolate cookie. We were at a friend’s house and her mother-in-law made homemade treats second only to Mrs. Peterman’s. They were gooey and soft in the middle with the perfect buttery crisp edges. You know the ones. Can’t say that I blame the Piper.

Why didn’t I stop her from her chocolate chip cookie gorge? I was on the front porch stuffing down an enormous piece of strawberry rhubarb pie made by some Christian women who clearly just earned their passage through the pearly gates. Mmm.  Delicious. When I came in to refill clean up my plate, I found Piper smeared in chocolate from mouth to elbow. She smiled so big. That’s how I knew there was trouble.

“How many you had there, sweet stuff?” I asked.

“They’re small,” Piper answered, avoiding my question.

“They look big to me. Is that your second or your third?”

“How many’s a lot, Mom?” Ah. Answering a question with a question. Well played, P.

“Well,” I said, taking the current cookie contender out of her hand, “what do you think is a reasonable serving?”

“Of what?” Piper asked. Oh, please. I’m so on to you.

“Cookies, Piper. How many cookies do you think is an acceptable number?”

“Five isn’t a lot, is it? You said I could hardly buy anything with five dollars. That’s a small number.”

“Not in cookies, honey. Five cookies is too much. How many have you had?”

Piper looked at the cookie in my hand. She licked her chocolatey lips.

“Less than five,” she said. “By one. Should I switch to pie?”

Olympic Winners

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We took a little trip down Piper lane tonight. It was longer than expected. Laughter fueled our ride. A good time was had by all. If you need a blast from the short past of piperism or just a quick chuckle to get you through your Olympic viewing (let’s face it-it’s serious business), here are the top viewed piperisms of all time:

Hold On. We’re Going Gaga

Raising Star Wars Girls

Soulmates

Drunk Dialing or Something Like It

Words You Didn’t Know You Needed

There you have it. The top five. The competition was tight. They all put up a good fight. If you were the judge, what piperism would take home the gold?

 

 

A History Major in the Making

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Sometimes Piper is anti everything. It’s part of her charm. She comes by it honestly.

Last weekend on our road trip back from the beach, we stopped off in Colonial Williamsburg for lunch. As a history major, I’ve always wanted to see it: the historic buildings, actors dressed in colonial garb, carriage rides, battlefields. So cool!

“Look at that old building! Gosh that’s old!” I said.

“I hate old,” Piper responded.

“How can you hate old? All that history!”

“I hate history.”

“Oh! Look at those people dressed up as colonisits! Can you imagine living like that?”

 

“I hate colonists.”

Bah Humbug.

Reminds me of the time my family drove to Truman’s house for a tour and I refused to get out of the car. Because I was reading Truman’s biography and couldn’t stop. It made perfect sense at the time.

 

Members Only

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Piper and her cousin, Charlotte, have formed a club. You can’t join. I know. I tried.

“What do you do in your secret club?” I asked.

“Tell secrets,” Piper answered.

“Stuff,” Charlotte added.

“Can I join?”

“No.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s secret,” Piper said.

“It’s only for members,” Charlotte explained.

“Right. I want to become a member,” I said.

Piper and Charlotte consulted. Then they ran off together squealing. Then they came back, holding hands and skipping.

“Do you have any money?” Piper asked.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said, “it costs a lot of money.”

“How much?”

Whispering ensued. “Hundreds of pennies,” Piper said.

“I have that.”

“It’s not enough,” Charlotte assured me. “You can’t afford our club.”

They’re probably right, especially when this is the view from their clubhouse window.

52 Pick Up Cards: Sissy’s Post

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Back by popular demand: Sissy is guest blogging!

Everyone knows 52 card pick up: the smelly game you teach your little sibling to tease them. But I’ve never met anyone who didn’t dislike it or feel cheated by it. Except Piper.

My cousin Jack and I were setting up a card game. Piper asked if she could play. “Sure” I said. “Try 52 card pick up.”

She loved it. There were songs sung about picking the cards up and whines of wanting me to throw the cards again.

“Let’s play more 52 pick up cards!” Piper said.

“Why do you like 52 card pick up so much?” I asked

“Well, you throw the cards. Then I dance and sing while I pick them up like when I pick up my toys. Then we can play my new favorite game again!”

Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new cleaning lady.