Dear FFIs,
Hey, it's me. Remember me? I'm that Fine Art major. You remember, the chronically under employed one who is always late on her payments? We've talked on the phone quite a bit. Usually the calls went something like this:
You: Hey, you owe us a bunch of money.
Me: Yeah, you and every other bank in America.
You: Ha, but seriously, how are you going to pay us back.
Me: Uhm...slowly?
You: Not good enough, we want it now or we're going to ruin your credit forever.
Me: So?
You: So that is really going to mess up your life.
Me: So says you.
You: No, really, give us our money.
Me: If I had it, you'd be the first one I'd give it to, after paying my mortgage, my utility bills, my grocery bill and the six other lending institutions in line ahead of you.
You: Aren't there sacrifices you can make? What if you cancel your cable?
Me: Don't own a television.
You: Uh...what about borrowing against your car?
Me: Yeah, I can't afford to pay you, and all you do is harass me at odd hours. If I borrow against my car and then can't pay them...because like I said, I can't pay you, then I don't have a car. That would seriously limit the amount of pizza I could deliver if I get that desperate.
You: Did we mention that we'll ruin your credit?
Me: Once or twice....look how about I call you back in 6o years when I have some extra cash?
You: But...but...but...
Me: Click.
Yeah, that chick. That was me! So anyway, I just wanted to say, welcome to the bottom. Also, you're welcome, since, although I couldn't afford to pay you, I do manage to pay my taxes, so part of that big check you're getting with all the zeros? That came from me. I'll be expecting repayment promptly, and if you're just one day late, I'm going to double the interest rate. Also, I'll need your home phone number so that I can call you during dinner and first thing in the morning.
Ragnar...I've been on the bottom so long, it's starting to look like the top.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
All that and now he's getting smart on me?
I've been raising, maybe even nurturing (a little bit, on those days after I've gotten more than four hours of sleep...not consecutively of course, hah!) this "baby" for 13 and a half months now. You'd think that I would have realized by now that he is eventually going to stop being a baby and start being a "person," but no, every new thing he figures out is just as shocking as the last one.
There is one room in the house that is an absolute no-zone as far as the baby is concerned. It is where the computer lives, and where we throw things that are non-baby friendly so that we don't actually have to figure out what to do with them. He hates it when any member of his tribe is in this room. He used to hang on the gate and wail...but he has figured out that all he has to do is unplug the big orange extension cord, plugged in in the living room for lack of a three prong outlet in the "computer" room, and I will immediately cease to be engaged with the glowing box thingy and come back out, no doubt to play with him. If I sneak away while he is engaged with a toy or activity, I can eek out approximately 10 minutes to check my email or download photos before he figures out where I am and pulls my plug. He never pulls this plug when I am not in the computer room.
Similarly he has realized that if he brings me a toy I will say something dumb like "Oh, you brought me a green ball, thank you for the green ball Ragnarson," but if he brings me a book I will stop everything and read it to him...he doesn't really care about the book, and loses interest after about two pages (average of 10 words per page), but they work great as "mommy attention getter."
I noticed today that every time I went in the kitchen to try and wash dishes or cook (another gated off room), he would start banging one of his wooden blocks against the large window at the front of our house, which would of course bring me running.
But he still eats dirt, so he can't be that smart.
See that nice mud pit in the corner of the garden box? He made that all by himself.
Ragnar...mama of the monster.
There is one room in the house that is an absolute no-zone as far as the baby is concerned. It is where the computer lives, and where we throw things that are non-baby friendly so that we don't actually have to figure out what to do with them. He hates it when any member of his tribe is in this room. He used to hang on the gate and wail...but he has figured out that all he has to do is unplug the big orange extension cord, plugged in in the living room for lack of a three prong outlet in the "computer" room, and I will immediately cease to be engaged with the glowing box thingy and come back out, no doubt to play with him. If I sneak away while he is engaged with a toy or activity, I can eek out approximately 10 minutes to check my email or download photos before he figures out where I am and pulls my plug. He never pulls this plug when I am not in the computer room.
Similarly he has realized that if he brings me a toy I will say something dumb like "Oh, you brought me a green ball, thank you for the green ball Ragnarson," but if he brings me a book I will stop everything and read it to him...he doesn't really care about the book, and loses interest after about two pages (average of 10 words per page), but they work great as "mommy attention getter."
I noticed today that every time I went in the kitchen to try and wash dishes or cook (another gated off room), he would start banging one of his wooden blocks against the large window at the front of our house, which would of course bring me running.
But he still eats dirt, so he can't be that smart.
See that nice mud pit in the corner of the garden box? He made that all by himself.Ragnar...mama of the monster.
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