Archive for December, 2009

No Puppy Love Here

So Mark’s cuddling on my lap this morning, going through the delicious litany of his admirers.

Me:  “Who loves you, Mark?’

Mark (wiggling happily):  “MOMMY!”

Me:  “Anyone else?”

Mark:  “Daddy!”

Me:  “Does Aunt Mia love Mark?”

Mark:  “Yes!”

Me:  “What about Aunt Molly?”

Mark:  “Yes!”

Me:  “Aunt Margie?”

Mark:  “Yes!”

Then a mournful pause.

Mark:  “But not her dog.   Pepper does NOT yuv me.  Pepper straches me wiff her claws.”

Can I buy a vowel, please?

I bought Kate a copy of the fairy tale book we had growing up.  I still have it, actually, but it’s in no condition to be hauled around by a five-year-old.  We’ve been reading her bedtime stories from it the last few nights.

Last night she was sitting at the kitchen table and opened the book to the first story, the title of which she must have heard wrong last time.  “Piss in Boots,” she announced.

Me:  “Puss.  Puss in Boots.”

Sam (utterly incredulous):  “Pus?  In Boots?”

Me:  “That’s if your toe gets infected.  This is a cat.  Puss.”

Mark of Serious Grossocity

I wish I were making this up…

So Mark’s had a bad smell in his mouth since May.  At first I thought he just had cavities.  Took him to the dentist.  Sure enough, he had cavities.  Nearly six months later, the cavities have been filled, although the wrastling with the insurance company about paying for them continues.

In August, the smell became accompanied by a runny nose.  But only the left nostril.  That seemed odd.  But we figured, Kate’s going to school, he’s picking up the same colds that have her nose continually running (and licking the snot from her upper lip in disturbingly similar ways to how the cows did when we were kids…eww…).

By October, the one-nostril running proceeded apace.  So I took him into the doctor, who diagnosed a sinus infection.  One round of antibiotics.  A second round of antibiotics.  Flonase, in case it was an allergy.  No dice.  We were still in land of snot and stench.

Monday, I took him back to the doctor, who threw up his hands and referred us to a specialist.

This morning, said specialist removed a piece of paper the size of my palm from Mark’s nose, wadded up so as to fit, tight as if he were trying to caulk his nostril.  Frankly, I’m astonished that any snot made it past to drip out.

Okay, parental units of preschoolers, the moral of the story is:  1)  single nostril dripping is weird and, according to the specialist, a dead giveaway of “foreign object insertion,” and 2) never, ever underestimate how much stuff a determined kid can get up there.  I was expecting a jelly bean, pea, or some such, not a piece of paper bigger than the envelope Lincoln used for the Gettyburg Address.

Srsly, the 13th c hd ths figrd out a lng tm ago

So if I were still toodling around in the land of academia, I’d have to strongly consider doing a research project on the ways in which 21st c texting is reinventing/rediscovering the use of abbreviations, for many of the same reasons that medieval scribes used them.

As a bonus, I’d be thinking about how LOL speak is gradually moving us back to medieval spelling…

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