Friday, July 9, 2010

Don't even ask...


Aw, nerds. I was going to post something and now I can't remember what it was.

And it's SO helpful that Jonathan is sitting at my shoulder like a parrot, reading and watching EVERYTHING I TYPE.

Jonathan: Hey! I find that very offensive! I really do! And why are you posting what I'm saying? I'm gonna punch you in the face if you don't stop!

Me: *calmly keeps typing*

Jonathan: *giggling uncontrollably*

Micah: *joins the fray* DON'T! DO THAT! *whispers* (Write it down.)

They think they're so funny.

Jonathan: Have you thought what you're gonna write about? How I'm so awesome? *realizes I'm transcribing again* I hate you so much! I really do!

I'm editing this at my discretion. There's a lot of unintelligible stuff coming out of their mouths. Maybe I'll interview Micah.

Micah: Don't you dare!

Becca: Why not?

Micah: *growls*

Me: No, no tiger language. There aren't any tigers reading my blog.

Micah: I hate you! I hate you SO MUCH! I hate you than everything!

Me:...whatever that's supposed to mean...

Jonathan: HEY! I find your typing VERY offensive!

Hmm, maybe not. Little brothers, it appears, are very unwilling interviewees. It's funny how whenever I want them to do something for me, they disappear off the face of the earth; and yet, when I want them to scramoose, they cling to me like cheese to a steak. (as per my new job)

Micah: I hate you more than the universe. *whispers* (put that on.)

So, somebody help a sister out--- does that mean he hates me more than the universe hates me or that he hates me more than he hates the universe?

Jonathan: *unhelpful commentary*

Anyway, so as I was saying, what was I going to post about? I swear, I'm getting older by the minute. And since I never know who's reading this, I had to strike a sentence. But don't worry; it was really really really really really funny. Okay, not so much.

Jonathan: *reading out loud*


Jonathan: *giggles* This is so much fun! Punch me again!

Me: Aww, it's no fun when you WANT me to punch you. Get outta here.

I didn't really punch him. I'd feel bad. It's like clubbing a baby seal.

Here, Micah wants to tell a story.

Micah: One day I went to Seven Peaks.

Me: How enthralling.

Micah: Super fun. Asking questions? ARE YOU?

Me: Yeah, I guess. What made it so fun?

Micah: I got a tube!

Me: Of toothpaste?

Micah: Nooooo. No, at Seven Peaks, the tubes are like as big as regular tubes. If you exchange two tubes then you get a double tube. If you exchange three regular tube or one double tube and one regular tube, then you get...

Me: Owned with a p?

Dad: Micah, if you don't come eat your cake soon, I'm going to feed it to the Matt!

Micah: Ahhhhhh! *runs off* I'll finish it later!

Jonathan: All right, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack.

Me: Huzzah.

Micah: All right, back to the story....

Jonathan: No way!

Jonathan and Micah: *get into a loud, raucous fight*

Me: Is it bedtime yet? They haven't been this giggly since that one time we were studying scriptures and someone cut the Gouda.
*to the boys* You guys have been very helpful. Now please, go away. Or I'll sit on your heads.

Jonathan: Of course! And let me go get you ten dollars too for being my favorite sister!

Micah: No way! I wanted to give her ten dollars!

Me: Calm down, boys, you can both give me ten dollars. I take cash, credit, and check.

Jonathan: *is incensed by what I just wrote*

Micah: *actually goes and gets Jonathan's ten dollar bill and gives it to me*

Jonathan: HEY!

Micah: All right, back to the story. All right, let's pick up where we left off. If you exchange...

Me: *gives Micah a Look; this story is super boring*

Micah: All right, then you get a triple tube. And I hate that fly so much. *jerks thumb at a big ol' dumb housefly stuck in the window*
*starts giggling uncontrollably* I went to the wave pool. It's actually pretty fun. There're actually WaAaAaVeS!

And now Matt wants in on the being in the blog post action.

Matt: Hey, I want to get in there.

Me: Done.

Micah: All right. Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's all I want to say.

Me: Thank you, Micah, it's been an honor.

Micah: Now I'll beat Jonathan up.

Jonathan: No you won't.

Jonathan and Micah: *get locked in a death struggle*

Me: No blood on the carpet, please. And please don't break the baby grand.

Wow. I don't even know what just happened. I'm going to go eat some of my blueberry cake now. And then finish "Hogfather" by Terry Pratchett. And I'm pretty sure I'll be locking the door to the basement to DISCOURAGE ANY LITTLE BROTHERS WHO MIGHT STILL BE READING OVER MY SHOULDER AND GETTING ANY IDEAS.

Ha. That got rid of them. Although I think they're locking themselves in the basement. I'ma sit on their heads. Anyone want to buy a six year old red head and a crazy eleven year old? Also known as, I'll pay you?

Wednesday, July 7, 2010


So I'm at the local library (literacy plug, literacy plug, literacy plug) right now after a most adventurous bike ride.

But first, I need to explain why I ride my bike to work. Here's the deal; I'm not a crazed health nut like some people (*coughsDADcoughs*), but I decided this summer that since my jobs aren't too far from my house, I might as well save gas money and burn calories by using the ol' wheel-machine-that-isn't-a-car.

Usually, it works out pretty good. I get all sweaty and gross, then I go chill at the library until I'm sufficiently cooleed down to be presented in public (no more red face, sweatvalanches, etc).

This morning, however, my bike had other plans.


Me: Uh, what just happened?

My bike: Mwahaha! I just snagged the hem of your jeans in my chain and RIPPED THEM ALL THE WAY TO MID-THIGH!

Me: Uh, was that really necessary?

My bike: No, probably not.

Me: Um, so, can you un-rip 'em?

My bike: Nope.

Me: Uh....that's not cool.

I was faced with an important decision then; turn around and get a new pair of jeans from home and get to work all sweaty and gross, or go to work with ripped pants (and by "ripped" I mean "not even pants anymore.")

My bike: [conversationally] You know, you do keep a spare pair of black jeans at Red Hanger.

Me: True. I'll just ride there and change. Thanks, evil bike!

My bike: Mwahaha! Oh, I mean, you're welcome.

And now my favorite pair of jeans is no more. RIP, Super-Comfortable-Jeans. I guess I'll be needing to go to Old Navy one of these days and get some more...

Yep. Mangled.

This is the final resting place- the dumpster behind Red Hanger.

Yeah, welcome to, I have skirts less open than that.

The hunter proudly poses with its kill.