Must Satisfy My Urge to Purge (improved version)

I know, lame title. I've probably used it before.

First, let me apologize for using the words "dumbass" and "smartass" to describe myself in the last post. While both are true, and that just adds to my enigmatic mystique, my use of the word "ass" twice within such close proximity made for an odd-sounding paragraph. As a writer, I should know better than to publish something below my usual artistic standards. So I beg your forgiveness for my not being more poetic there. Speaking of the word "ass," get this. The kids know not to say bad words, so when they want to quote one to me, they will spell it or say "the S word" or whatever. This method is usually used in the context of tattling on someone who said such a word. So the other day, Katy says to me, "Mama, Luke called me an A-S-S-W-H-O-L-E." I was so cracking up at her spelling, I almost forgot to ask Luke about it. He of course denied it, but I wouldn't put it past him as he is beginning to think he is old enough, at 11, to start using such foul language. He must learn these words on the bus, because he certainly has never heard them at home.

After being gone three days, followed by a busy Sunday, I find myself faced with a Mount St. Helen's of laundry. That's not to say that the laundry pile looks like it's about to erupt; it is to say that I am. So, while the washer and dryer run as I let every frantic client's call go to voicemail, I sit here and drain my brain.

For the record, my children have never eaten boogers. As I sat in the floor at the Continental Airlines gate waiting for my flight out Thursday morning, I watched two erstwhile adorable sisters (probably about four and six years old) as they played at my eye-level about three feet away. I had one of those sweet people-watching moments utterly destroyed when the six-year-old girl dug her way to China up her nose, pulled out a juicy booger, examined it briefly, then sucked it off her finger. The girl saw me watch her do it. I made sure the mother wasn't looking before I scrunched my face and quietly told the girl, "That's just nasty." As if a rude comment from a stranger in an airport could possibly change her disgusting behavior. I can only hope. I also see at least one booger-eating incident on each Sunday that I make it to church. Our pastor does this little "children's chat" thing at the beginning, before they run off to their classes. It has almost become a sick mental game I play. I watch the gathering of God's precious little children and make bets with myself on which kid is going to gross me out today. I'm messed up. [By the way, I use this voice-activated software when I'm too lazy to type-- like right now. Sometimes, of course, it doesn't hear me right or doesn't yet understand my Texas accent, so it gets words wrong-- such as "pin" when I say "pen." But this software does know how to spell "booger." That's quality stuff right there.]

All this news lately about China and Tibet got me thinking about the Dalai Lama. My brother heard a first-hand account about what a diva that man is. I can't really remember it all. Maybe I can get him to post it in a comment here. And I read Mr. Lama's book, The Art of Happiness (in hopes of finding some). [If any of you ever chance to meet His Holiness, I just dare you to be an ugly American by extending your hand and saying, "So nice to meet you, Mr. Lama."]. Anyway, even the author who interviewed him to write that book mentioned what a jerk he could be. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all about a free Tibet. Not militant, mind you. And I respect the Buddhist principles of austerity, mindfulness, morality, and that whole Zen idea. I just find it interesting that some human beings elevate and genuflect before another human being. Like the Pope. Sorry, I just don't get it.

Let me break this up right here with a supplemental list of words I like. The other day someone used the word "bailiwick." After basking in a fleeting wave of comfort at being in the presence of someone who unknowingly uttered a word on my list, I had to make sure that that word was indeed already posted. It was. So here are a few more: shibboleth, avatar, atavistic, apoplectic, succubus, incubus, juggernaut, jettison, flotsam, jetsam, and moniker. Moniker really belongs on my list of sort of archaic terms I want to revive, but I'm still working on that one.

When I was in the express line at the grocery store last week, the person in front of me was paying for a special, personalized birthday cake they picked up at the bakery. I took one glance at it and rolled my eyes. The lovely white-frosted creation was emblazoned with fancy blue lettering that said, "Suprise!" As in, "Surprise!, we misspelled the sentiment on your cake because we're illiterate, but that's okay because so are you!" I doubt anyone noticed it. Had I ordered a cake and arrived to find a misspelled word on it, I would have sent it back for a correction. Not just for my own peace of mind, but also to take an opportunity to offer a helpful spelling lesson and to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.

I have a good bit of notes to share from my recent airport and hotel experiences. I'll have to post those later, because it's time for Mike to give me his pre-departure man-chore lessons. I found out last night that, hmmm, we apparently have a sprinkler system. I'll be out there with a clipboard taking notes as I am absolutely clueless as to what he does outside besides pee.