A few things I've been meaning to blog

Imaginary friends

Uno and Dos both have imaginary friends.

Dos is best buddies with Tucker, who I first assumed was in her preschool class; it turns out he couldn't be because he's ain'teen (18) and goes to high school. He has brown hair and two teeth, she tells me. A real looker, lol! Last winter Tucker introduced Dos to her other imaginary friend, Mildred. The three of them have a great time playing together.

Uno has an imaginary and very adventurous grandmother. Every wild story she spins begins with, "When I was two years old, my grandmother ______." Fill in the blank with any of the following:

• took me skydiving


• cooked me eyeballs for breakfast


• helped me build a real time machine that really worked (a dig at the crappy "model" time machine we helped her build from scraps of balsa wood and craft glue)


• sailed with me on a pirate ship to China

Her grandmother (who is distinctly different from either of her parents' mothers, whom she simply calls grandmas) is also the ultimate authority on any matter of trivia that may be in dispute. She might ask me if 2+6 is 7; I'll tell her no, it's 8, and try to show her using fingers or small toys or whatever's handy. "Well," she'll say, getting very huffy, "my grandmother says it's SEVEN." End of discussion. How dare I contradict her grandmother? Seriously.

Fishing

Call me a prissy little girly girl if you must, but nature creeps me out. I'm terrified of spiders. Mosquitoes, which used to be merely annoying in this part of the world, now carry West Nile Virus and can kill you. Sit in the grass and you'll get chiggers, or under a tree and wind up with Lyme Disease from the tick that's burrowed into your scalp. When we lived in West Texas, I even had to worry about scorpions (never saw one, but believe me I worried).

Nature. ::Shudder::

Nonetheless, I let DH take us all trout fishing last weekend at the stocked pond of one of his colleagues who lives out in the boonies. (Well, it's no more booneyish than where we live, but it's different boonies -- about an hour from us.)

The girls have pint-sized poles, but it turns out Jim's fish are too big for their little lines, so they became DH's net girls instead. We were all still excited when DH caught the first one. Uno, who had the net, was on the other side of the pond so I called out to her ... but tripped over my words. I meant to say either fast or quick. What came out was, "Quack! Quack! Get the fish!"

I held and entertained the baby most of the afternoon, but I did fish a couple of times. DH rolled his eyes at my squeamishness, so I made an effort to get my own worm on the hook. I wore gloves. And I cringed as I felt the point pierce into his little wormy body. (Again with the shuddering.) I had to cast a few times before the line actually made it into the water (DH made sure the girls were far away any time I tried), but once in I was in business! I caught a very nice sized trout that I immediately felt sorry for, so DH let him go.

I tried again a couple hours later, but this time the worm wiggled as I attempted to get him on the line. Wiggled! Eeeeeew! Even with gloves on, it was too much. I squealed and dropped him. DH rolled his eyes and put him on, and again I caught a fish fairly quickly (that we just as quickly released). I'm no good at the baiting, no good at casting, and I refuse to touch (or eat -- gross!) the actual fish, but I can catch 'em. You betcha'.

Too Much Information

I have a nice rack.

Forgive me for saying so, but I do, and I'm excited. I've been an AA (which sadly, unlike the Ds, does not mean a really big A) cup for most of my life -- through two pregnancies, even. Finally, with Tres, the Boob Fairy remembered me! For the last year, I've been curvaceous. Womanly, even! Yeah, they have drawbacks: They sweat (did you know boobs sweat? I didn't until I got some) and underwire bras are a nightmare. But still I'm a happy girl.

I'm trying to lose weight. If it comes off my chest first, I'll be very bitter.

The End.


~RCH~