The One with a Furball

I wish my cat didn't think my computer keyboard was a good place to lay while I am on the computer. And while I am on the subject, I also wish that he wouldn't lick the monitor whenever I move the mouse.

I guess that is just proof of the intellectual superiority of humans...you don't see me licking my computer, do you?

The one with Environmental Responsibility

I love the new reusable bags that they have at Meijer.

I love them for their environmental friendliness.

But even more, I love them for the way they've changed my shopping experience.

Prior to the dawn of the reusable bag, my shopping experience went something like this: I would grab a cart, wander around aimlessly for a little while until I remembered what I had planned on getting (since I almost never make a list, and when I do I inevitably leave it in the car) and then I would start my shopping. I would head here and there, gathering what I needed, until my collection of groceries seemed complete. And then - on to the checkout!

Now, whenever I go to checkout, there seem to be about 4 lanes open in the entire store and so I would head to the self-checkout with the assumption it would be much quicker and more efficient. And every time, I was proven wrong.

I would grab my first item - perhaps a package of strawberries - and slide it, oh, 3 or 4 times over the scanner until it finally scanned. And then it was time to bag it. That's when the real trouble would begin.

The little plastic bags in the self-checkout are never open. And if you've EVER gone through the self-checkout, you know that those little, innocent looking plastic bags are impossible to open. So there I would stand: Strawberries in one hand, frantically trying to get the bag open with the other hand, the checkout machine droning "Please place the item in the bagging area. Please place the item in the bagging area. Please place the item in the bagging area" every 3 seconds, and inevitably someone behind me tapping their toes, rolling their eyes and sighing impatiently as if they were the master of the plastic grocery bag and found my struggles completely imbecile.

But now, my beautiful little blue reusable bags have rescued me. The showdown is over: the little white plastic bags may have gotten the best of me in the past, but now I stroll confidently into the self-checkout knowing that they can humiliate me no more.

Thank you, my environmentally friendly shopping bag. I am sincerely grateful.

The One with the Shovel

"Shovel, I am so sorry I broke you. I had no idea that you were such a soft and sensitive soul. I didn't realize you would bend and break in nature's icy blast. I thought you were tougher than that. I really did.

And I'm also sorry for the things that I said to you - rather, yelled at you - when you succumbed to the pressure of the ice and slush. But really, what did you expect after you left me there, on my ass in the slush holding only your handle?

Please accept my apology.
Yours forever (or until Friday garbage day),
Amy"

The One at School, again.

A discussion with my students after reading a book about winter went as follows, so please enjoy:

Me: So what is winter like? What does it feel like?
"Cold"
"Windy"
"Bite-y"

Me: What does winter look like?
"White"

Me: What is that white stuff called?
"Snow."

(pause)

"Sometimes the white stuff is Ranch. And the red can be ketchup."

Me: Laughing much to hard to say anything more. Besides...what do you say after that!?

The One Where Amy is Taken Down a Notch

Its true. Pride is a deadly sin.

My thumb would swear to that.

I was very proud of my achievement today - I installed a new light fixture entirely on my own. Yes, I handled screw drivers, wrenches, screws, nuts (of the tool variety) and - most impressively - electrical wires. On my own. Without injury. Or electical shock. Or house fire.

I was so pleased with my work that I called one of my family members to brag about my accomplishment. And during that conversation, I was punished for my pride.

Just so you know: light bulbs are hot when they are on. They can burn you. Especially if you touch them. Like when I touched one with my thumb.

And...back to humble land.

The One With a Winter Storm

Ok, I admit that I have only myself to blame. Afterall, they cancelled Parent-Teacher Conferences because the weather and roads were so bad. I think they intended that we all go home and stay off the roads. That would have been the smart thing to do.

I, however, thought - "What better time to go to Target?"

Well, to answer my own question, I would suggest that a better time to go to Target is on a day in which it doesn't take 45 minutes to drive there when it's normally only 15 minutes. Or maybe on a day on which you can actually tell where the off ramp that you think you are driving on is. Or perhaps on a day during which you don't get your car stuck in the Target parking lot because there are huge snowdrifts everywhere. Or maybe on a day when you can get your car up your nearly flat driveway the first time, rather than on the sixth or seventh attempt.

But, despite the fact that I spent nearly as much time outside of my car getting it unstuck as inside of my car driving it, I consider the trip completely essential: If I'm going to be snowed in, now at least I have nice new picture frames to look at.

Now if only my pictures would be delivered...