Thursday, January 31, 2008

Deja Vu

The nut doesn't fall far from the tree, or so they say.

The Hubster has always had a habit of using centrifugal force to get the last few drops of something out of the bottom of the bottle. If there's just a little bit of ketchup in the bottle, he could toss it out or simply tip it upside down and whack the bottle until the ketchup oozes out. Unfortunately, his preferred method is to hold the bottle upside down and spin his arm in huge circles until the force moves all of the ketchup to the top of the bottle.

This works well, as long as there is no one else in the room AND the lid is securely fastened.

Case in point: The Hershey Chocolate Syrup incident of 1995.

It was the first time I had left the Hubster in charge of all three kids (the Wildcard was just a baby). I came home to find chocolate syrup splattered in a perfect circle across our dining room floor, up the wall, across the ceiling, and down the opposite wall. He said he didn't have time to clean up the chocolate because he was busy putting out the fire in the backyard....but that's another story.

Anyway, the deja vu part.

It was yakisoba for dinner tonight. The Blonde One, being the finicky eater, requested plain baked chicken breasts instead. Not a problem since I was using chicken in the yakisoba anyway.

Dinner at our house is buffet style - make your plate in the kitchen and carry it to the dining room table. No one eats until everyone is seated with their dinner in front of them.

So, the yakisoba-eaters made their plates and were sitting in the dining room waiting while the Blonde One worked on his plain baked chicken plate in the kitchen. After a few minutes, the Hubster yelled to the kitchen to see if the Blonde One was coming.

All we got was "Ummmm.....yeah. Uhhh, check this out. I think I need some help in here."


(This was after he attempted to clean off the light switch, and when he decided he needed help.)


Ummmmm.....yeah. He was spinning a nearly full bottle of barbecue sauce in circles and the entire top flew off. I don't know how he did it, but he was spinning it horizontally and managed to get all four walls. It seems to me that he would have noticed that the top came off after, say, 90 degrees, or maybe 180 degrees.

Nope. He did an entire 360 before stopping himself.

It was everywhere, on the curtains, in the blinds, on the windows behind the blinds, in the air conditioner vents, across the TV, inside the pantry, splattered on the Hubster's briefcase and cover, in my stack of unfiled paperwork, he even managed to splatter StupidDog with barbecue sauce.

The one thing he somehow missed?

His plate of chicken didn't have a single splatter on it.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

More Self-Checkout Fun

The line was long at the other registers today and I was in a pissy mood, so self-checkout seemed like the best option.

It was one of those odd days when all six self-checkout registers were open, with the cashier in charge running from register to register to address problems as they popped up.

The cashier in charge today was the cashier with the attitude. I don't know her, but she seems very annoyed that real, untrained people can actually do her job. As I wait my turn, I watch as she flits from register to register, swiping her super-special cashier I.D. card and punching in random numbers before the "help me" lights even begin to blink.

She's either super-efficient or super-paranoid.

So, my turn.

I start to scan my items without any problem. She appears out of nowhere as I grab a package of chicken breasts from my basket.

"5642" she tells me.

I give her a blank stare.

"5642" she says again as I start to scan my chicken breasts.

Another blank stare.

Apparently that wasn't what she wanted, because she pushed my chicken breasts aside, swiped her super-special cashier I.D., punched in "5642", rolled her eyes at me and headed off to avert a crisis at another register.

Not only was I annoyed with her attitude, but I wanted to let her know that I've scanned chicken breasts there without a problem in the past and her "assistance" was really not needed.


I continued to scan my groceries without incident, when she again appeared out of nowhere.

"De-scale your items."



At this point am wondering what the Hell she means by "de-scale".

I was in the 'Under Twenty Items' line and even though I had fewer than twenty items, I had some large items like dog food and soda.

She grabbed the dog food and dropped it into a cart.

"De-scale. You have too much on there."

She left before I could ask if 'de-scale' was even a word.

So, I scanned and was down to my last item......fresh basil.

I did the alphabetical item lookup, but basil was not listed. Before I could double-check, cashier with an attitude rushed by in an attempt to avert a crisis at another register.

"It's under 'herbs' " she said. "That's with an 'H'."

This time I didn't let her get away.

"Ohhhhhh.....see, I was looking under 'G' for 'green'."

I hope she now understands there's a reason people use self-checkout.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

A Punch in the Gut

I don't know how else to describe the past few days.

On Friday, Destructo and I drove out to Ford Island to have lunch with the Hubster who was attending a conference there. We had a nice lunch and then took Destructo to the Aviation Museum gift shop to spend some of his birthday money. It took almost an hour for him to narrow things down to just four airplanes ("because I'm four!"), but he was thrilled with his choices.

After dropping the Hubster off, Destructo and drove around and took a few pictures, then headed over to the new Oklahoma Memorial to get a few pictures for our Okie friends.

Just a typical day.

Then we got the news.....the Hubster's dad has leukemia.

We've been trying to stay optimistic, but each additional piece of news has been bad. They are going to try treatment for a week to see if he can handle it, or if his other health issues will prevent treatment.

He was planning to retire in March, on his 72nd birthday. He planned to travel, play golf, and spend time with the grandchildren. He planned to eat great, sinfully unhealthy meals and die of a massive heart attack on a golf course. Chemotherapy and being 'sick' weren't in his plans at all.

It's just not fair.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Is It Bad......

Is it bad if I take Destructo to Sea Life Park, and leave with an uncontrollable craving for fresh seafood?

Just wondering.....

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Hi Ho, Hi Ho....

A hiking I will go!!

I managed to squeeze in some hiking while the kids were on Christmas break. I did Maunawili Demonstration Trail again, the Hoomaluhia Botanical Gardens, Puu Ohia, and Pauoa Flats (which were definitely NOT flat!). I was rained on each time I went, and the trails were all very muddy ('tis the rainy season), which resulted in some slipping and falling and a few cuts and bruises.

I did Demonstration Trail mainly because I wanted to get some up-close pictures of the clouds on the mountains as the sun set, but too many clouds moved in and left me with dreary pictures, like these:



At the Botanical Gardens I took a lot of botanical pictures, of course!

These were gorgeous, but I dropped my sunglasses and stepped on them in an attempt to get closer.


Some really cool Brazilian nuts:


I only saw a few of these, but managed to get a picture:


Did I mention how muddy it was? Under the grass was a squishy mess. This, by the way was just after I slipped and slid down a muddy creek bed.


This weekend I combined Puu Ohia, and Pauoa Flats. It was a great workout, but kind of dull from a photo perspective.

Bamboo forest everywhere!


Flowers growing in the darkest part of the jungle:


And finally, a great view of town and Diamond Head.


Saturday, January 12, 2008

How to Annoy Me

As I was driving home after dropping the Wildcard off for swim practice, the evening sky was filled with whispy white clouds. I made a mental note that sunset was going to be a must-see, and I really needed to get a few photos.

I made sure my camera was ready and set it on the desk next to the front door. Then I began making dinner while dealing with an ornery Destructo. He had been sick, but was over it just enough to be demanding and fussy. We read a book and I got some juice for him, shredding chicken for chicken tacos in between whines.

Before I knew it, there was an orange glow coming in through the blinds.

I was too late. When I popped my head outside, sunset was winding down and I had missed my photo op.

Oh well, there will be another....or so I thought.

As I was leaving to go pick the Wildcard up from practice, the Blonde One was heading in the door from soccer practice.

"Mom, did you see that sunset??!? It was so awesome, I had to pull over to watch it. I knew you would be out taking pictures!"

Teenage boys don't normally pull over to watch a sunset, so I knew I missed something big.

Well, crap.

I picked the Wildcard up, and the first thing he mentioned was the sunset.

"Coach Evil let us take a break during practice to watch the sunset. It was so cool. I told him that you were probably out taking a million pictures!"

Coach Evil never lets them take a break during practice.

Crap again.

I was really bummed as I went home and finished dinner.

The Hubster, with his incredible timing, walked in the door just as dinner was ready. He had gone surfing after work.

Of course he was gushing about the sunset. (Can big, tough Marines gush? Not sure on that one.)

"There were about ten of us out in the water, and suddenly we all just stopped and watched the sky turn red over our heads. It was freakin' amazing! Did you get any good pictures?"

Surfers don't ignore waves. Ever.


I had gotten over it enough that I was laughing about it with the Hubster as we watched the evening news. As soon as the weather report came on, the Perky Weather Woman had to get her digs in too....

"Did you all see that sunset tonight??!! We received dozens of viewer photos tonight....."

And she proceeded to show at least a dozen pictures of the most amazing sunset ever.

I'm such a loser.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

There's Always One....

The Blonde One had a soccer game today. Not really blog-worthy, but this isn't about him.

It's about one of the other moms.

I don't know her, and we've probably exchanged a dozen words, total, but I do know that I don't like her.

She's the perky mom. The one who shows up in well thought-out outfits (for a soccer game?), with matching white Keds and a wrap of some sort....just in case there is a nip in the air. Her makeup and hair are 1990's Miss America, and she has the perfect French manicure.

Today was a muddy mess at the soccer field. Destructo and I tiptoed around the edge of the field in our rubbah' slippahs, looking for the somewhat dry spots, and still ended up with mud squished between our toes. Perky Mom walked through the muddiest part of the field and never got a spot of mud on her white Keds.

(Her son must have the same Teflon coating, because he is the only player who finished the game without looking like he needed to be hosed off.)


It was Perky Mom's turn to bring after-the-game snacks. Keep in mind that these are high school boys, and presentation really doesn't matter. You could toss a trough of Doritos on the field and they would have at 'em.

Perky Mom arrived with two trays of snacks for the team. Not just snacks, but individual bags of Doritos, Famous Amos cookies, granola bars, and Fruit Rollups.....all neatly packaged in cellophane. Half the cellophane packages were done in one of the school colors, half were done in the other color. All were secured in contrasting curly ribbon (in the opposite school color) and a metallic charm of the school mascot was dangling from the ribbon.


That's all I want to know.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

It Just Keeps Giving and Giving

I love my lazy mornings during the holidays.

This morning was no exception. I slept in until almost 10 o'clock, lounged around reading the paper, surfing the internet, and eating last night's leftovers for breakfast.

By the time I made it to the shower and got dressed, it was nearly noon. I took my time straightening my hair for no real reason, making the bed, and sorting a bit of laundry before opening the bedroom door and heading back to the real world.

As soon as I took that first step into the hallway, it hit me.

There was a stench in the house like I had never smelled in my life, something along the lines of decomposing critter mixed with sewer gas and vomit. And it definitely wasn't there thirty minutes earlier.

I should have headed back into the bedroom, closed the door behind me and spent the rest of the day in my little la-la land.

Instead, I headed down the hallway, past the Diva's bathroom. I poked my head into her bedroom and asked if she was okay, thinking she may have had some serious intestinal issues.

She looked at me as if I was crazy, told me she was fine, and went about her business.

I headed to the living room, where the front door was wide open and the fans were on. The Blonde One was on the computer, and I asked him what that smell was.

He shrugged and went back to battling the bazoobiemen in his online game.

The kitchen door and windows were open, and the tradewinds were blowing through the kitchen/laundry room into the rest of the house. That is where the smell seemed to be coming from.

I inspected the kitchen. Nothing.

The laundry room was next. Again nothing.

I peeked out the back window to the lanai and it hit me.

Remember this?

And this?


It exploded.

All over the lanai, the roof, the back fence, and the side of the house.

The Hubster later explained something about organic material and methane.

All I know is it's the gift that keeps on giving.