K bought me a Bush countdown clock about a year ago as a joke. Every day, I'd see it hanging on my refrigerator and be a little bit depressed by how many days were on it--380, 250, etc. Now, when we've finally gotten down to the really exciting 30+ days to go, the damn thing broke. Guess I'll just have to content myself with our soon-to-be new president.
I'm not sure what to make of Louisiana being the first state to elect an Indian-American governor AND a Vietnamese-American congressman. Kinda makes us look somewhat progressive, even. Thank god we still have Nagin so we don't get too full of ourselves.
As Holly pointed out, the whole Santa thing can be a bit disturbing for small children, and I had to have a similar conversation with E about how it's a good thing that Santa can always see you, and no, he's not hanging out under your bed. I mean, really, "He sees you when you're sleeping?" Don't even get me started on the creepiness of a fairy that comes into your room at night and steals an old tooth from under your pillow. It's a wonder more children don't need therapy.
Why do the majority of pedestrians in New Orleans think that a red light means walk into oncoming traffic and then stroll across the intersection as slowly as possible? I've talked to several native New Orleanians who have moved to the real world and are absolutely amazed that people in other towns actually obey traffic signals and don't think of them as mere suggestions that can be ignored if inconvenient.
Is it wrong to tell your three-year-old that it isn't necessary to talk all of the time, if you do it in a really nice voice? I love E, but good lord, that child could talk paint off a wall. Even the dog gets tired of listening to her sometimes and hides under the bed.
Kelly and I had the inaugural meeting of the NOLA support group last Friday night. A great time was had by all, but I think we both regretted it when our children were up bright and early the next morning.
My cat Boo-Boo died a couple of weeks ago. He was 12 and an indoor/outdoor cat, so it was sad but not unexpected. 12 years is a long time for a cat who lives to fight all of the other tom cats in the neighborhood. He was a great cat, and I really want to get a new kitten. I figure if we get a kitten and it grows up with E, it might not run away from her in sheer abject terror every time she tries to get near it, as Boo-Boo did. Of course Betty-Kitty, the crazy cat that I adopted 11 years ago and who was at least 3 or 4 years old at the time, is still alive and well and going strong. And though she's not getting any younger, she can still move pretty quickly when E gets anywhere near her. Betty and Boo-Boo both pretty much moved next door to the neighbor's house about a year ago, once E started getting too close to them. My neighbor was more upset than I was when Boo-Boo died. Would you find it a tad bit odd if your neighbor asked permission to cremate your cat and keep the remains in an urn in her living room, or is that just me?
Which is weirder? To write about cockroaches in the closet or my cremated cat?