If I could paint myself with special paint that made me invisible...

  I would visit all the "Secret Rooms" of the world.  For instance, when buying a car, you make small talk with white-teethed salesmen for as long as you can take it, and then when an offer has been made, they have to go take your offer their "people" to see if they can make that deal work. This can take anywhere from 10 minutes to 580 minutes.  I would like to know if they are actually running numbers to see how this deal impacts their dealership financially - or are they simply watching a game and shootin' the breeze?
Next I would slather up in the invisible paint and go visit the kitchen of the restaurant to where I just sent my meal back.  Are they actually carefully remaking my dish to my specifications - or are they simply spitting on it, throwing it the microwave, and ever-so-gently sprinkling a bit more cilantro on it?
And my favorite and final destination: ANY room that says: NO ADMITTANCE - the closest I have ever come to entrance into a room such as this is a Teacher's Lounge - but now they don't really put those signs out any more - it's more likely to say, "Teacher Workroom" - which isn't nearly as intruiging.

Silver Lining: When my son puts signs on his door that say things like "Boys Only" - he always writes in small letters at the bottom: "Except for Mom."  He knows a sign like that is only an open invitation for a curious mom like myself.

The Spork

What possesses a child at the age of six to proclaim to her mother, "I think I would like to use only sporks from now on..." ??  Whaat?  "Yes, Mom, I said sporks.  They are good because they are like two things in one and they are funny looking.  I also think they should be made for American Girl Dolls - you know, little ones with teensy weensy sharp points."
So I am thinking about this and the logistics of making a wholesale change in utensils.  This is what I think: Sporks are NOT good because they AREN'T like two things in one - they are like NO things when it comes to purpose.  They don't really stab anything AND then there are those spiky little things on the end that poke your tongue while you eat...yum...mmmmm... ow!... nothin' like eatin' salad with a spork.

Silver Lining: This too shall pass... I think...

Random Bits

When I was growing up, it was very typical to have small rivets and screws on the tops of dressers, the top of the refrigerator and rolling around in the junk drawer.  Where and what these bits were from were often unknown and were eventually thrown out... or relocated.  I thought this was a normal phenomenon for everyone... until I met the man I would marry.  Odds and ends don't fit into his schedule or organization system.  If there's an errant screw or nail rolling around anywhere, it is immediately picked up, examined quickly and then thrown out if it's use cannot be identified within 3 seconds of picking it up.  There is a place for everything and everything (come H*ll or highwater) should be in it's place.
So I have learned to either hide the tiny pins and earring backs I might need some day - or quickly throw them away hoping I will never need them again.  Herein lies today's subject: the pocket contents of a nine year old boy and his attachment to those contents - knowing that if they leave his pockets, they may immediately disappear into thin air.  As Chief Executive and Operating Officer of the Washing Machine, I have decided to protect the interests and future opportunities of the nine year old.  I have now collected enough bits and pieces of legos, rocks, marbles, staples, small toys, felt scraps, foam darts, and fishing gear to build a robot that would probably wash the clothes for me.  So today when I found two teeny, tiny light bulbs on the top of Joseph's dresser carefully hidden behing a picture frame, I was ecstatic!  If I put these with the rest of the hidden collection - I will have eyes for my robot!!
What has become of me?  Domestic Engineer turned Double Agent

Silver Lining:  I hear the pay is better...

Bad Timing

I have walked through the water.  This must have been my "hero's journey."  I just finished my 5 mile walk only to be washed down my street - literally.  Yes, the day came.  The near-sighted walker who was wearing her old sunglasses that don't supply the prescription power needed anymore (because - get this - she couldn't SEE her other glasses lying on the counter) met up with a rather oblivious city worker who decided to flush the fire hydrant in the "hero's" front yard as she was making her way UPHILL to her home - supposedly a place of peace and rest.
Yes - I am wet.  Am I beaten? No.  The city worker will live to see another day - because he didn't die of laughter - yet.  That will be a slow death that happens over and over and over again in his dingy breakroom where all city workers go to eat their lunches and to tell their best stories of the day.

Silver Lining: No need to shower now...

Sleep Habits

So I check on my kids before I go to bed every night - they've already been asleep for a number of hours hopefully by that time.  Tonight I do the check.  One is completely surrounded by stuffed animals in his bed, around his bed - generally it's an animal abudanza.  The other has chosen one animal to be her company for the evening.  It also appears as though she was holding a very close and important conversation with this one carefully chosen bear.  After my eyes adjust to the light and I get close (to make sure she is breathing), I realize that she is holding the bear so that they are nose to nose and she has tied the bear to her neck (loosely) with her sheet.  It must have been a crucial conversation.  These are my children - even in their deepest sleep they still hold strong to their personalities: one is all about quantity and haphazardness - many interactions with a number of random animals - the other is all about carefully measured out conversations with carefully selected "friends."  How does this happen even during sleep? 

Silver Lining:  Even when I ignore the blog for a number of weeks - it will still take me back.  Welcome to the random world of Julie.