The new definition of gross

This one falls into the "What is this world coming to?!" category...

I had the misfortune recently of choosing the middle stall in a public bathroom of three stalls. The two outside stalls were occupied, so I had no choice. Usually, this is not a problem.

That day, however, the two other stalls were being used by what were apparently two close friends. I assume they were close friends because, though George Michael and US Senator Larry Craig have shown that perfect strangers strike up all sorts of relational activities in public bathrooms, these two were talking loudly to one another.

Talking loudly to one another while, audibly, both wrenching out number twos.

Unfortunately, I had a swimsuit to change out of, so my time in the loo wasn't a quick in-out job. The conversation, and the crapping, went on and on. And on.

Thankfully, they weren't talking about their current, simultaneous activities. From what I could gather (they spoke Thai), it was a bit of mindless gossip and discussion of what they were going to eat for dinner. Blech.

Finally, I washed my hands and made my escape from my centre stall of hell before I had to see either of the chatty-crappy gals, but not before I heard one ask the other, "All finished now?"

My desire to shout out a rude parting response was thwarted by my dry heaves.

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I stand corrected

A conversation at last night's bedtime reading session, while looking at a book of dinosaurs:

Me: Oh look! Here's a giant crocodile!
Justin: No Mom, no! That's an anklyosaurus.
Me: Oh right! Sorry the light's dim. Yes, that's right, that's an anklyosaurus.
Justin: (pouting) Wrong way Mom! Wrong way. NOT a crocodile. Anklyosaurus.
Me: Sorry, sorry! Yes, Mom's wrong.

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Possessive pronoun problem

My dear boy is a little confused on the pronoun front. For the longest time, when referring to himself, he would use his name, eg, "Justin went to school today."

It is perfectly normal in Thai language to do this, so it's understandable that he would start out using his name this way. He's got it tough. The rules of the game are vastly different between Thai and English. There are pronouns in Thai but in casual conversation it's far more common to drop the pronoun altogether ("Where are you going?" for example, would be simply Pai nai? - "Where go?" - in Thai. In reply, you wouldn't say, "I am going out", but rather, Pai tiew - "Go out.")

Somehow along the way he learned about the pronoun "you", but got it all ass-backwards and now describes his own thoughts, actions, etc, using "you".

Egs. "You like chicken." "You don't want to go to sleep." "You going outside."

In trying to rectify it, we end up having conversations that resemble the famous Abbott & Costello comedy routine, "Who's on first, What's on second..."

Eg.

Justin: "You like chicken."
Me: "No, no! You say, 'I like chicken'."
Justin: "No! You like chicken!"
Me: (Pointing to him) "I like chicken! I like chicken!"
Justin: "Yes! You like chicken!"

It's fun. Pronouns aside, his grasp of two languages at the tender age of 2 yrs, 10 months, simply amazes me on a daily basis. Just after turning 2, for example, he somehow figured out that Papa spoke Thai and Mom spoke English, and began speaking English exclusively with me and Thai with my hubby.

My hubby will read a book to him in Thai, then a few days later Justin will open up the book and explain what's happening to me, page-by-page. In English. Sponges for knowledge, these young kids.

But back to the pronoun problem.

Out for a drive the other day, the whole family was happily going down the road, when, from the back seat I heard a voice...

"You pooped."

Yes, we're having a bit of a potty problem, too.

Aaacck!

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Ok cutie

The fact that your mama is commemorating your first birthday nearly three weeks after the fact speaks volumes about your lot in life as the second child.

Your actions, your milestones, your little quirks and gurgles don't elicit that same rush of excitement as did your older brother's, but it doesn't make them any less miraculous.

You are my little, smiling miracle, growing up so fast it's frightening.

And you do like to frighten your mama don't you? Shocking me by standing up to walk at 11 months, having barely moved off your bottom for the first 10 months of your life. Then breaking your leg in the tub just one month into your life as a walker.

I love that you know how to whistle, and that you instinctively knew to blow out your birthday candle when it was presented in front of you. I love your cuddly nature, how you like to crash into me for a hug every five minutes or so when I'm sitting on the floor.

I love that if I happen to leave the door open when it's raining, you rush outside, throw your arms up in the air and laugh as your little body gets drenched.

So much joy and zest wrapped up into your little one-year-old body. Can't imagine life without you. We're so blessed that you came along for the ride.

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Weirdness, in nouns

Ray Bradbury, most famous for his book Fahrenheit 451, also penned a little gem called Zen in the Art of Writing, which I've probably leafed through a hundred times in search of inspiration.

One of his suggestions is to write down, without editing or too much thought, a series of nouns that come into your head. This noun list will then serve as a reference point for story ideas. It's a great piece of advice, one of the few pieces of writing advice that I've actually done and used on a regular basis.

But in reviewing my lists after the passing of a month or two (or several), I'm sometimes baffled and amazed at what I've come up with. It's quite a fun little insight into the feeble workings of my mind. Below is one such list. Some readers who know me in "real time" may have a chuckle about some of these. Or not.

The overall theme of this list seems to be messed up prairie farm images circa 1983....I must've been homesick when I wrote it!

Brown & orange carpets
Hampshire Sheep
The Quonset
The Old Pig Barn
The Back Road
Shiny Tiaras
The Culture Club
Budweiser stubbies
Big Brown Station Wagon
Windermere Lake
Blue Rocky Mountains
Bedroom Window with Burnt Leaf Curtains
Barbeque face burn
Tube tops
Trampoline
Serial killer Bob Brown
The Furnace Room
Cupboards in the sewing room
Grasshoppers
Smokestacks Chrome Runners Souped up Trucks
Jazz Dancing
The Junkyard
Big Rocks
Old Thresher (Thrasher?) Machines
Midget Hockey
The Dugout
Gladys Church
Dinton Park
Fluff Gray
Snow Rabbits
Tobogganing down grass hills
The Slough
Roseanne New York New York
Cheese Whiz & Tang
Snow Drifts
The Big Red Barn
Pastel Pink/Blue/Green Bins
Spaceship gazing while feeding the sheep
Never noticed you were an Indian!
No head lamb
Uncle Tom’s ghost stories
The Motor Home
Mice in haystacks
Tamping wool
Baboon, big mama sheep
Nosey, the ram
Bloody Mary
The Woods
Slow Pitch
Doubles Badminton
Tying Twine
Autumn Winds
Rainstorms
Yellow Doghouse
Dog face in the window
The hockey rink
Train whistles
The Landscape
Spring Crocuses
The Foothills
Highway 1
Deer over fences
Slick highways
Blizzards
Heavy breathing doctor
Atop the windy hill waiting for the bus
Crazed bus driver
Rifles in the truck cab
The Red Mustang
Hiding clothes from sister
The De-Beaker
Driving with one eye closed
Piss-off bridge
Ingrown Toenails
Horsehair couch
Slippers, peanuts and a glass of rum
Hipcheck with cousins
Shooting Crows
A Fatal Decision
A Tender Snowflake
The Brown Chevy Impala
Alcoholism down on the farm
Big sunshine skies

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To you

What do you say to the person you love when you know it's your last conversation?

Not enough. Never enough.

A lifetime of recollections, shared joys and pains, birthday cakes, camping trips, scraped knees and turkey dinners. I close my eyes now and I see you at the farm, sitting at your kitchen table with a coffee (and a cigarette, in days past) and your easy smile, and I hear that laugh that only you can laugh.

I probably never did repay the $10 you gave my sister and I for gas money when we appeared at your doorstep after running the car dry. Your loan got me home that day, but it was your steadfast welcome and care that gave me a sense of home in my heart, no matter where I lived.

You were not just a part of my childhood -- you were the DNA of my childhood, always there, taken for granted.

Here's to you and all the things I didn't say but know deep down in my soul.

You will be missed dearly, Aunt G.

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