Random Esquire

1. One of the little boys in Boss’s class said to her today, “I had a dream last night. About us.” Boss said, Oh? What did you dream? He had a dream that they were riding bikes. She asked, “What color was my bike?” He said, “I was driving a green motorcycle.”  Objection, your honor. Non-responsive.

2. I disturbed myself today thinking about how hair that goes down the drain ends up who knows where and that pieces of my body were, essentially, spread all over the world. Pieces of my body that I made by consuming food. That grew out of the ground using nutrients from decomposing things or people. I don’t like it.

3. This baseball game better start going my way soon. I don’t even like baseball!

Boss’s Day:

Kid: Teacher! Are we going outside after this?

Boss: That’s the plan, Stan.

Kid: My name isn’t Stan!

My Day:

Sales person #1:Now, is limitation of liability really that important?

Me: *Blank stare*

I need to work on my blank stare because it isn’t effective on these conference calls.

Boss’s Day:

Kid: Teacher! Can we have more sugar?

Boss: No way, Jose!

Kid: Teacher, Jose isn’t in our class anymore. He moved to the other class.

My Day:

Shim: Go lure Fresh Express away from her desk. I’m going to steal some coffee.”

I thought my skull might split and my brain swell out the opening today. Remember when I got the TiVo system and requested a new satellite receiver? No satellite receiver yet - despite my phone calls every few days. I have been unerringly polite but tonight I cracked while on the phone with an older gentleman, the same person I’ve spoken with many times before. He gave me a ten minute explanation of why they had not been able to send someone out with a receiver. I said, “With all due respect, I don’t care. That you didn’t call me is unacceptable. I do not want to hear anything else unless it has to do with when I will get a receiver and if that will happen BEFORE THE WORLD SERIES IS OVER.”

Fresh Express came by my office today with her contact lens case in a Sargento cheese bag. I nodded toward the bag and said, “Cleaning your contact lens?” Lens. Singular. She said no. She was going to brush her teeth. She fills her lens case with toothpaste and dips her toothbrush inside. I was so taken aback. I said, “Oh…I…I just ..have a tube.”

I cleaned the place this weekend. And when Boss came home, she came home to a ribeye steak, steamed asparagus, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and steamed carrots. She has a slight cold. So when she came home tonight, I had made chicken soup for her.

And then I realized…I’m Bree Van De Kamp.

I don’t know how Little Filthy manages to be do adorable to everyone with those hairy moles on his face. He’s untouchable!

I believe I am crabby. I blame this. It is an entry with a recipe in which the first instruction is: Casually dice 4 cloves of garlic. How does one dice garlic casually? I suppose, from my comment to the entry, it is evident that I was crabby prior to the casual dicing comment. Of course, the “throw in some very strong red wine” had pushed me over the edge.

I hope this does not carry over into tomorrow because I’ve already received e-mails that require my response and I really do not need to respond with something less than professional. Like, “Why are you so stupid, stupid?”

I have been entertaining the idea of using my (soon to be) old Sonicare toothbrush head on Little Filthy. I do not want to tell Boss but I think I have to. I don’t want to tell Boss because she will think I am crazy. I have to because I am rather sure Little Filthy won’t be my dental patient willingly. He yawned earlier today and I was treated to a view that left me reminding myself that his lack of lip control really prevents the possibility of a mouth rinse.

Because Boss was out of town this weekend, I: a) went to Costco and almost lost my mind, b) let Little Filthy nap on the bed next to me, c) worked four hours on Saturday, d) played with my Treo 650, old friend, and e) played piano.

Shower just stopped. I smell soap. And lotion. And girl. Less crabby.

8 a.m. Coffee made, Filthy chewing on a bone. Random recent observations:

1. I called my credit card company this morning and requested a lower A.P.R. The Customer Service Representative was polite and qualified. That took most of the fun out of the call. The only odd thing he did was comment that I was awake early. I responded that yes, I was up early and was brewing coffee right now. He suggested I go easy on coffee as it was bad for me. I thanked him for looking out for my well being. But really, I found it rather …well, let’s face it, rather bizarre. What a weirdo.

2. Little Filthy does not wag his tail a lot or, at least, it isn’t very obvious because of the curled up nature of his tail. When we go to the vet, however, and he is up on that stainless steel counter and the female vet is petting him and feeling him up, his tail swings back and forth faster than an autistic child. It is the equivalent of a nervous giggle because he knows she is going to poke him in dark places.

3. It occurs to me that my analogies are insensitive. Boss gave me a bit of an eye. I need to work on that.

4. Speaking of Boss, the other day, we were in the grocery store buying apples. Actually, we were buying many different things because we have bulk buying issues. However, at this point, we were in front of the apples. There were quite a few varieties to choose from. She said she likes softer apples. I said I like crisp apples. She said she doesn’t like it when a big piece breaks off when she takes a bite. I said I love it! And we stood there and stared at each other as if we’d never met. No one thinks to ask these important questions until it’s too late and you fall in love and then you’re stuck buying two different kinds of apples for eternity.

Boss’s day: “I’m crazy! ‘Cause I eat too much candy!”

My day: “We’re out of coffee filters.”

Hmmmm. Yes, her days are often more interesting.

Little Filthy is wearing me out. I interrupted his morning tryst with a box of paperclips and just about came unglued. I had a come to Jesus moment, as my grandmother might say. Well, honestly, not my grandmother. My grandmother does not speak English. But someone’s grandmother, I am sure.

I called the vet and suffice to say that all is well now and no surgery was required. It occurred to me while speaking with Dr. Dog that it is no comfort to hear, “He’ll just pass it” because Little Filthy indulges in his own creations to fulfill his in-between-meal snacking needs. At best, either Boss or I will be right there to grab it, so to speak. At worse, the object will get caught in an endless loop of input and output.

We can not possibly have the only dog who eats everything like he is a great white. There’s probably a license plate and some tin cans in Little Filthy’s stomach. But even sharks have the good sense not to eat their own feces.

Please tell me we aren’t the only ones. What has your pug eaten?

I’m over Dakota Fanning. I am not sure if I have ever been anything but over Dakota Fanning but it seems more pronounced lately. One can only take so much toothy innocence.

We run the dishwasher almost every night. It’s running right now. We went out to dinner. How do we use so many dishes?? I must use cups like kleenex.

Just then, I thought, “What if there were cups that were disposable like that - where they just popped up out of a box and you pitched them after using them??” Yeeeesssss, very good, Random. Those are called Dixie Cups.

Fresh Express has two differently colored eyes. One is slightly more green than the other. I have noticed this for some time now, mainly because she stands uncomfortably close when speaking. I suppose it was rather foolish of me not to realize that it was anything other than the result of an intentional act on her part. Today, we discussed contact lenses and she told me that she wears only one. Upon my inquiry, she confirmed that yes, it is tinted. She wears one tinted contact lens. The logic escapes me. Her eye doctor should have had the good sense to say, “You only need one contact lens…I don’t think tinted is the way to go.”

Little Filthy inhales his food like a asthmatic sucks on an inhaler. Oddly enough, he inhales his food but takes time to enjoy his poo by chewing thoroughly. That was an unfortunate tooth brushing discovery.