Dress for Success

Come and listen to a story 'bout a boy named Des.
He's a real good kid, doing what his Mommy says.
Then one day, he tried on his clothes for school.
The pants were too snug, and it wasn't very cool.
Private school, dress shoes and a belt.

Yikes! Desmond Henry's uniform trousers don't fit! With a scant two weeks left before Kindergarten begins, I had to get over my bad self and get on the good foot with the nice folks at Flynn & O'Hara. C'mon now, D.H. is large and in charge, with the makings of a real man of distinction (just like his dear old Dad). Don't want him looking like Jethro Bodine from the Beverly Hillbillies now, do we? High water blue jeans and an old rope for a belt. Crisis averted, I reckon; reordered just about everything, one size larger. With the holiday weekend coming up, I hope everything will arrive on time. The Big Day (back-to-school) is September 5th!

Bubbles, 1997-2008

Last night at supper, Desmond spit out his bottom incisor while he was enjoying his dinner side dish of Cheezits. When the Tooth Fairy stopped by later in the evening, she left a little something under his pillow. This time, however, she took Bubbles, The Dog with her back to heaven or whatever lovely place the Tooth Fairy comes from. It's true. Old Brownie Brown passed away yesterday. Her death was unexpected; as far as we could tell, she wasn't sick. Granted, she was eleven years old and getting pretty rickety. When the boys and I came home from shopping around lunchtime, she was behaving strangely and had made a mess in the basement. She didn't even want her afternoon cookie which was extremely out of character. After the guys went to sleep, I went downstairs to do some laundry. There she was on her pillow; she looked like she was sleeping. I called her name, but she was gone. Bubbles was a sweet pooch; deceptively hairy, but super sweet. David buried her in the backyard this morning; we'll plant some flowers there. Hey, maybe a Dogwood.

The Shirley Temple of Youth

I haven't been to the gym in over two weeks. We were away at the seashore, among other distractions. So I went back this morning, and I was happy about it. I always have a good time when I'm there. My body is, after all, a temple. A temple with a fountain in front. A fountain from which bubbly brown soda flows, first thing in the morning. That's how I wash down my vitamin. I don't really watch my weight, and I guess I probably should. I can't eat pizza boxes like a billy goat, the way I used to when I was just a kid. Still, I love all the foods. When they're together in groups, it's so cute. Peanut butter, tomato and raisins on a hamburger bun: that's my favorite. Triple scoop ice cream in a waffle cone.

Fruit's okay, lettuce and tomato. But it's not cheese or ranch dressing. So I go to Spa 23 and have a little workout; it does make me feel strong. I ride the bicycle and lift weights; I like the clothing: very sporty. For 55 minutes, I feel and look the part of a conscientious, casual athlete. Then, I get kinda bored and sweaty. I cool off in the car and drive to the bakery, where I also have a membership.

The Loneliest Runner

The clothes dryer is broken; that makes me sad. I am a woman easily rattled when my major household appliances go on the fritz. The washing machine, vaccum cleaner, coffeemaker - I love them all very deeply. Dreamy central air-conditioning; I move swiftly through the rooms of my feng shui inspired home, dustrag in hand and Windex on my hip, enjoying all of my equipment at a crisp 71 degrees F. Don't get me wrong; I like nature, and I watch the weather channel. I'm aware that seasons change; I buy pumpkins and string up lights when called upon. I use an umbrella and dress us all accordingly, in colorful ensembles often still warm from the dryer. As a matter of fact, I have a lively coffee cup collection that I match to each day's outfit. That's how completely jazzed I am about my life in a modern world. Sure, it may sound a bit excessive... Perhaps. I'm not hurting anyone, as long as the coffeemaker still works. Besides, those happy days are gone now that the dryer is shot. I called Sears and made an appointment to have the repairman take a look at it next Friday. Next Friday! This afternoon at the height of my despair, I draped the boys' wet underwear over the backs of patio furniture in the yard. It seemed indecent, but I needed to take advantage of the afternoon sun to get those briefs dry. Does anybody remember Lance Kerwin (James at 15 and again, at 16) in The Loneliest Runner? It's the story of a 14 year old bed wetter who runs home from school every day to retrieve the wet bedsheet his mother has hung from his bedroom window to punish him. He races to get there before any of his friends pass the house. This enforced training prepares him to become a competitive runner, and he grows up to be Bruce Jenner. The moral of the story: Don't humiliate your kids. Also, not everybody likes sports or housekeeping, for that matter. I don't. I do, however, love wearing clean laundry and maintaining harmonious surroundings that enhance the balance of my yin and yang. So every morning after I pick out my clothes, I eat my Wheaties and make the coffee.

Teeth. It's What's for Breakfast!

Somebody swallowed his tooth with his Golden Grahams this morning. We wrote a note to the tooth fairy, explaining what happened. Desmond remains optimistic that she won't stiff him on the goods, even though he's misplaced his receipt.

Breakfast in Bed

It probably gets rocking loud at Angelina Jolie's house these days, what with six kids under one roof. Granted, there's probably an au pair or two on staff; I read that Brad Pitt's parents are in town, helping out. That's nice. I betcha lots of noise gets absorbed by the velvet drapes in the spacious rooms of their sprawling French chateau but still, it's gotta be pretty nuts in that household. I wonder what mornings are like, in particular. Where we live, boys wake up roaring with energy. Their eyes and mouths snap open simultaneously, and the full throttle action begins! Doors are flung wide and bladders are emptied, high-tech toys are selected. After that, they're ready to punch the clock, taking on all the biggest issues our fast-moving, ever-changing world has to offer! This morning, they had some banking to do first thing. Getting their financial affairs in order entails trying to remember how to untwist Scooby-Do's bottom, shaking the money out, then fighting over the change. I woke up with a dime on my eyelid, which is physically unsettling and not a very generous tip, given my years of loyal service. Additionally, time travel arrangements needed to be firmed up, plans that involved a Power Ranger wristwatch, three Pokeman cards and a small plastic globe. I tried to explain to these boys that if you still need Mommy's help to put on your jewelry and point to where America is, postponing your trip indefinitely is probably a wise decision. I flipped on TV to get the morning news. Apparently, Kraven the Hunter was in New York at the Natural History Museum to unveil his recently captured prehistoric animal exhibit. While the presentation was taking place, the dinosaurs escaped. As Spiderman and his Amazing Friends attempted to recapture them, Kraven’s real motive was revealed, and just as you'd suspect, it was villainous! Get this - Kraven was planning to seize control of New York by hatching a dinosaur army under his command. The nerve! Amidst the chaos, a rogue dinosaur egg was transformed into an enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex. Oh, and big surprise, Firestar was kidnapped. What else is new? Let's face it, her friendship gets less and less amazing everyday; such is her tiring neediness. Anyway, Spidey and Iceman located Kraven's lair where Firestar was being held captive, forced to perform unspeakable acts on God knows who and who knows what. Luckily, the team managed to save her from herself, yet again.

After a brief awkward silence, they helped collect her clothes and boots, sheepishly dusting off what was left of her dignity. In amazing fashion (as is their way), the friends lured the giant T-Rex into a tar pit and handed Kraven over to police. I thought about calling David to see if he had any trouble getting into work this morning, but I figured he would have called if the bus hit traffic.

Lucky Punk

I feel really lucky when I get to start a new art project, book and movie all on the same day. Today is one of those days! Five new boards are sketched out, just started reading I Was Told There'd Be Cake (by Sloane Crosley) and rented the second season of Nip/Tuck. I dusted off the two art tomes I own, so prepare to be threatened with dazzling new techniques.