Tag Archives: humor

Happy Fake Birthday to You

Posted on by
5

We celebrated Piper’s fake birthday today. What’s a fake birthday? It happens when you’re halfway across the country with family that you won’t see on your real birthday so we throw a fake birthday party. There’s cake and candles and presents.

We pretend well. Piper told every single person we saw today that it was her fake birthday. Checkout clerks were impressed. Strangers on the street wished her a happy day. Our waitress would have sang if we hadn’t stopped her.

The best part of your fake birthday is our real birthday tradition, which we borrowed from Uncle Pete’s family. On your birthday (in addition to the breakfast in bed), we also give you a dollar and tell you our favorite thing about you.

So, Happy Fake Birthday, P. Here goes:

What’s your favorite thing about Piper?

Mike and Ike

Posted on by
1

To beat the heat, we took the girls to a movie matinee today. Piper asked for a box of Mike and Ike candy, too.

Mike & Ike - original flavors - 6 oz theater box

We said yes. We know how to party. Piper reached inside and started tasting the chewy goodness. “Mmm…this one is strawberry. Yummy. I think this is lemon. I love lemon. And this one,” she said, holding up a lime green candy, “is zucchini.”

Mike & Ike Oriignal Fruits

Hey, Kid, Want a Cigarette?

Posted on by
3

I’ve done my best to scare my kids away from smoking. I may have told them a few stories about wrinkles and bad breath. “Mommy, have you ever smoked?” Piper asked.

I haven’t. I could be honest on this one. Whew.

“No. I haven’t smoked, P,” I answered.

“That’s why your skin is so smooth. You’re so pretty,” Piper crooned. I didn’t stop her.

“Thanks, honey. You also must always, always, always wear sunscreen. That keeps away the wrinkles, too.”

“I promise to never smoke and to always wear scumscreen,” Piper said. “You’re skin is so smooth,” she continued, rubbing her tiny palms on my face. “Except for your neck.”

Division of Powers

Posted on by
3

I’m home for the summer with my kids. All the time. Every minute. Me and them. That’s it. I’ve always joked that I am a good parent ten hours a day, which means by hour eleven we’re drinking beer and watching Will and Grace on the couch. I’m kidding. Don’t worry, Mom. I’d never let them watch Will and Grace.

We’ve been enjoying the lazy summer days. Sleeping in. Swimming. Playing cards. Doing projects we never get around to during the busy school year. Traveling a lot.  But there never seems to be enough me to go all around. Someone wants more. More of me. They’re never satisfied with my full attention. Yesterday, I said, “How about if I just divide my body? We’ll slice me up and dole out pieces. Then you don’t have to fight over me.”

Without missing a beat, Piper said, “Okay. I want you arms. So you can hold me all the time.”

First Round Draft Pick

Posted on by
3

“What’s this?” Piper asked, crawling into her dad’s lap as we watched T.V.

“It’s the NBA draft. Want to watch with me?” he answered. He was thrilled to have the company.

“Umm, Dad. Why are we watching the NBA draft?”

“To see where the players go. I like to watch the parents celebrate, too. They’re pretty proud.”

Piper watched quietly for five seconds.

“Umm, Dad. Why are we watching the NBA draft when it’s soooo boring?”

 

Two Truths and a Lie

Posted on by
2

In the pool this afternoon, we taught Piper the game “Two Truths and a Lie.” You’ve probably played some version of it. The rules are rather obvious. Piper caught on quick. Let’s see if you can guess which one is the lie.

“Okay. Okay. I’ve got mine,” Piper said. “I’ve had my face painted a lot and I mean a lot. I got four ant bites at camp. And I have twenty legs.”

Tough, isn’t?

Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

Posted on by
5

Piper had her first sleepover last week. It was at Augie’s house. Dreamy, I know.

When I picked her up, I asked about the sleepover success.

“Did you use your best manners, P?” I asked.

“Yep. I was polite, Mom. I really was,” Piper said.

“Did you follow their rules?”

“I did,” Piper answered. “But they don’t have the no jumping on the bed rule. Thank goodness.”

 

Reunited and It Feels So Good

Posted on by
3

Piper spent much of yesterday being a baby cheetah with Augie. Their reunion was everything you can imagine: jumping, squealing, rolling around like puppies. They played. They went to the park. They had frozen yogurt. They went to the bathroom together and emerged to inform us all that they’d married. It must have been the romantic hand washing. Here’s a little hand holding, too:

“We’re married now!” Augie announced.

“Too soon! Too soon!” Piper said. Then they ran off together again to be baby cheetahs. Here’s some prowling antics:

“You know I’m famous, don’t you?” Piper asked. “You’ve heard of my blog? Piperism? It’s where Mommy writes down all the funny things I say.”

“Oh,” Augie said, clearly unimpressed, “let’s be baby cheetahs again.”

“Roar!” Piper growled, her humility firmly back intact.

Lovey-Dovey Bound

Posted on by
Reply

You know those videos of kids whose parents surprise them with trips to Disney? The kids scream with delight and bounce up and down with excitement. They hug their parents and swear eternal gratitude. That’s what it was like when we told Piper an hour into our road trip this morning that we were Augie Bound. (See Soulmates and What We Talk About When We Talk About Love for background on the Piper/Augie Lovefest)

“Really, Mom? We get to see Augie! Really?” Piper’s eyes kind of popped out of her head.

“Really. We’re on our way now,” I answered.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How much longer?” Piper asked.

“About 10-”

“-Minutes?” she interrupted

“10 hours.”

20 minutes later she needed another arrival time update. Then Piper began scheming.

“I’m going to ask Augie-in private-if he wants to be my lovey-dovey.”

“Why did you pick Augie?” Dad asked.

“Because he’ll probably say yes.”

“He’s a good guy,” Sissy agreed, “but you might want to wait until you have a better reason to ask someone to be your lovey-dovey.”

“Wait a minute,” Piper said, “aren’t I older than Augie? That won’t work!”

“You’re only a month older, P. I think it will be okay,” I answered.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re older, too, Mom. Dad doesn’t seem to mind.”

(For the record, I’m four months older. He never lets me forget it, either.)