Nazi Lions

The local cherry blossom festival was great. We roamed around all afternoon Saturday eating fair food, watching our son play ride kiddie rides, ran into local and not so local folks we hadn't seen in eons. It was great! Beautiful weather too. What more could you ask for? Well, how about sea lions!

I've seen the oreo-eating racing pigs and the tigers that are sometimes at local fairs, but sea lions? Come on! But there were really sea lions - the small, small, baby ones (seal-size in case you were wondering). They travel in a tank of water enclosed in a trailer truck thing.

So we trudged over to the sea lion area for the show. Of course this was not Sea World, so no amphitheater. There were bleachers. Being somewhat vertically challenged however, the three of us were only able to hear the sea lion show. Whoop-dee-do. Somehow something is lost when one cannot actually view the show. Then my son got the brilliant idea to sit on his dad's shoulders to see the show. So he got to actually see the show, the lucky guy. So my husband and I continued to just listen. Ah well. Once it was over I asked my son what he thought about the show. He said it was great! Sigh.

Later, I was telling a friend about this show that was not for short people and called it a not-see lion show. Her mind was in a different place however and what she heard was that it was a nazi lion show. So we both, well no just me really now that I think about it, had a good hearty gaffaw over that one. So beware your homophones! or words that are sorta kinda like homophones! That is if you know what a homophone is! I know there are some of you out there!

U2 sings.."But I Still...Haven't Found...What I'm Lookin' For..."

Ok. So I admit perhaps I've been burning the candle at both ends lately. Work, rehearsals, sleep occasionally, even surviving picture day at work. Today this fact was brought to the forefront. It was time to leave work for the day. It had been a rough day, picture day. Teachers, you know what I'm talking about. If you're not a teacher, ignorance is bliss, shall we say.

Anyway, I called my husband on my cell phone to see how his day was and relay how fun mine had been. While we talked I got together my stuff to take home, one item of which was my purse. I kept chatting while I checked the outside pocket and then frantically the inside pockets of my purse for my car key (found it), and my phone. I couldn't find my phone! Suddenly, my side of the conversation paused for dramatic effect when I realized I really had lost my phone. Then, (finally), my brain synapses refired and I laughed hysterically as I realized the missing phone was being held to my ear, by my hand and being talked into. Kinda like when one goes looking about for one's sunglasses, only to find them located comfortably on top of one's head! Oh man, what a day!

Come on Baby Light my Fire...

Nothing like a little fire and flammable objects to enliven a church service! My darling son was an acolyte last weekend. However, the decorating committee didn't seem to take a few things into account. My son and the other acolyte are short. Short as in can't see the tops of the candles to know whether they've been lit or extinguished. Short as in barely taller than the altar.

The decorating committee also didn't think about the decorations they chose in context. There were 7 fat, lit pillar candles once the acolytes got some assistance lighting the candles they couldn't see. The decorations were beautiful, loopy, bundles of kindling! Yikes!!!!!! All of the sticks/vines curved up very near the flames! What were they thinking???? What were they doing???? Playing with fire????

Ok, no fire occurred during the service thankfully, but I know the four acolyte parents and the congregation members who were paying attention were on the edge of their seats during the acolyte action. The extinguishing of the flames was a bit tricky. The two acolytes were finally able to get all of them out except one whose wax had melted in such a convoluted way that the flame couldn't be seen at all. The two acolytes were still deliberating (motioning back and forth in front of the altar about who should do what and how) and trying to get that last flame out even after the pastor and assistant pastor had processed back down the aisle and the choir was finished with the benediction. Finally, (thank God), the choir director came to their rescue extinguishing the remaining flame and they were able to quickly zip down the aisle. We were so thankful our son was able to supply the congregation with such suspense! Stephen King watch out!

Kids These Days

I love my school's live TV news broadcast. It is very cute and is well done for elementary students. I got tickled the other day when some students were interviewed by a student news anchor about an amazing dance program that was brought to our school. The interviewer asked a young girl, "What did you like best about the program?" to which the student being interviewed pensively replied, "It was casual."

Yes, it _was_ true. The performers wore jeans and untucked shirts. But of all the adjectives that could have possibly been supplied to answer that question... dynamic, rhythmic, amazing, fantastic, fun, etc., "casual" was quite unexpected. My class however had no idea why their teacher was guffawing at that response. So is it just me? Or are there others out there in the blogosphere who find "casual" equally amusing as a response. Just curious.

It'snot supplication...

I began to sniffle. I could hear my husband sniffling. Then I heard people behind me sniffling too. Was the pastor's sermon that much more poignant and emotional this Sunday? Why were so many people choked up?

Well, truth be told, it had nothing to do with the content of the minister's sermon, which was very good actually. It all had to do with the number of times before the sermon that the congregation had been asked to bow their heads in prayer. Prayer: a time of thought and communication with one's higher power. ALSO, a time when sinuses already aggravated by the coming onslaught of pollen begin to flow freely. Maybe during pollen season the pastor could direct us to pray facing upwards toward the heavens. Either that or supply plenty of Puffs on each pew.

Move 'Em Out, Rawhide!

"Mom, could you come help me with something please," my son told me while I was perusing the birthday cards at a local drug store the other day. I'd broken one of the parenting rules that gets harder the older your children get, letting him get out of my sight. So I said, "sure," all the while thinking that he must have broken something. In his favor though, I hadn't heard a large crash in the last few minutes. He lead me to the bounce ball display. You know, those plastic bounce balls that every kid has at least one of at every house they go to?

Well, the display had enticed my son, who likes to take them out one by one and then throw them back in the top of the cage that is their home. Unfortunately, there must have been a mutiny on hand and about ten of the bounce balls had made a run for it, breaking the front of the display cage in the meantime. My son and I wrestled the remaining ones for enough room to reattach the front "gate" of the cage. Luckily the few escapees hadn't traveled far and were easy to capture and return to their quarantine. I did find it amusing that on almost all of the remaining aisles that we walked up and down as we finished our shopping, there was at least one convict bounce ball. At least my son allowed them a brief sense of freedom. Somehow reminded me of the short journey into the real world from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, or Awakenings.

Say What You Mean to Say

The other day this memory from my student teaching days came back to me. I was teaching a kindergarten music class with the students all sitting in their lines of chairs as my mentor teacher had them arranged. The entire back wall of the classroom was windows. Sometimes it was tough for these little guys to not be tempted to look out the window to see other students playing outside etc. One day, as I was still getting my teaching "sea legs," I noticed more and more students turned around backwards looking out the window. Of course I didn't have all the names memorized yet and ended up saying in frustration, "Everyone, turn around now!" Well, concrete thinkers that they are, every single kinder turned backwards to look out the window. Ugh.

Honey, Maybe We Should Skip This School Event

I believe in this instance it's not the thought but the spelling that counts.

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