Kristen says ...

In a true demonstration of the pitfalls of the electronic age and its effect on families ...

As Todd, Julie, and Emilie sit with their laptops playing on FaceBook on a Friday night ...

Julie comments that Kristen is the only normal member of the family remaining. She has no laptop, no FaceBook, thus, no 21st century life. Todd chuckles. Emilie mumbles (after having wisdom tooth extraction earlier in the day). Kristen says ...

"Can't y'all just talk on FaceBook?"

Apparently, we were interrupting her movie.

Kitty Kup Sob Story

I was born with a plastic cup in my mouth.

Apparently, so was my cat.

How does one train a cat who is obsessed with drinking out of a tall, plastic Khaki's cup to drink out of the nice, clean, white, ceramic, PRETTY square bowl I purchased for her? She's made the transfer from the old food dish to the new (matches the square water bowl) food dish, but the water seemingly is just not the same.

I understand, really. I don't like drinking from glass glasses unless I have a straw. They smell kinda fishy, if you know what I mean. Give me a good old cheap plastic cup any day. (And my mom gets irritated with me when I call them cups, but I tell her if they're plastic, they can't be glasses, right?) But this is a cat, people. And they don't make cat straws.

So Yentl, she stands pitifully at the bathroom counter, sticking her head way down inside the empty Khaki's cup, hoping beyond hope there will be a few drops she missed the last time she checked. (Hmm, maybe it would help if I got rid of the cup. That was the point.)

I've carried her to the food and drink spot, a short three feet away, even dunked her finicky little nose in the new dish to be sure she KNOWS it's water (Because she's kind of dumb like that sometimes. She also finishes her business, then swishes her paws OUTSIDE the litter box inside of inside where they might actually cover the evidence.)

She condescended to drink from the dishy dish one time--when I fetched two ice cubes from the kitchen and dropped them in, because she loves ice water (she's a kidney disease kitty, and loves water cold, cold, cold). I thought it would clue her in that it's her new watering hole, but no, and we're not going to start THAT every day. I know, I know, some of you over-the-top animal lovers think I'm mean, but we do give her ice in the kitchen bowl. Ahem, the BOWL she drinks from there (that is, NOT A CUP).

By now, you're probably wondering, "What are Khaki's cups?" If so, you ain't from around here, are ya? Khaki's Fresh Food is this wonderful dress-your-own-burger joint that serves drinks in tall plastic tumblers imprinted with their logo. If you live in Arlington, chances are, you have a full set in the cabinet. The way you know it's been too long since you went to Khaki's is when you realize you need new cups. You know, when the old ones are kinda faded? Cracking in spots or overly dishwasher warped? And they are so much better than the four for a dollar crap cups you get at WallyWorld. You can bend them to fit in the dishwasher top rack, the one that's always a fraction of an inch too narrow for things you purchase.

But I digress. Yentl, she needs to move up a notch. What do I do with the plastic cup lovin' kitty??

To she who keeps us all organized

Dadgummit, I'm an hour too late to officially say Happy Birthday to Emilie on my blog!

But she got all kinds of attention today anyway. She went to the doctor last night with fever and coughing and came home with antibiotics and a possible diagnosis of p-u-monia. Yep, two doctors arguing over a chest xray--Is it pneumonia or not?--decided to treat her as if it is so. Because she had "all kinds of squeaking and squacking" going on in her lungs, so they said.

Too much stuff going on in combination with heavy duty allergies=a day off from school for your birthday. Not a bad deal. I know, right? (Just had to say it, after all Emilie says it 100 times a day these days.)

I even heated up leftover taco soup for her lunch when she finally woke up at 2 p.m. after going to bed at 9 last night. I told her never to forget I did this for her and never to say I never fed her when she was sick. ;-)

Because I felt so bad for her, even though I said we'd probably wait to celebrate until the weekend, Kristen and I made a pit stop at Target after piano lessons and bought a little cake and the rest of her heart's desires for her birthday--the sequel to Gregory Maguire's Wicked, and another book he's written about the ugly stepsister or some such character.

I was already in possession of the requested Across the Universe DVD and a few other random movies I thought she'd enjoy after an unfortunate trip yesterday to Blockbuster's previously-viewed-movies-for-sale section. (It's always unfortunate, because I always buy a lot of movies there when they're four for $20. Many I've seen and enjoyed. The pitiful part is I often never rewatch them. I just have some kind of weird emotional attachment to movies I liked. Let's just say this was a *highly* unfortunate visit because I kind of hit the jackpot.)

If we can score tickets for the David Wilcox concert at Bend Studio in November, including one for Emilie, I will be Mom of the Year, except for that minor matter of driver's ed ...

Sorry, sweetie, you don't have time for driver's ed. The only possible time slot in your busy, busy schedule is really already filled. With sleep. Maybe when you're 20.

BUT ARE YOU SERIOUSLY 15!!!!! O.M.G.