Thursday, August 6, 2009

Monkeys and Balance Beams

It's still amazing to me... the generosity of people.

Last week, in between naps, I found a package on my doorstep from a couple that I'm pretty sure we've only seen twice in our lives: Fe-Lady and hubby. Of course, after we met them the first time at Benny's first Ironman, we quickly offered up our house to them to stay in for X-Terra while we were in Europe. Cuz, we're trusting people that way and that's just how we roll.

I mean, for. the. LOVE! The first time we met him, we had Greyhound hold our wedding rings while we went for a swim in Tempe Town Lake? WHO DOES THIS?

Enter Benny and Jaynee whose only possession of real value (the scooter) is currently out-of-commission because a certain, un-named FATHER-TO-BE refused to insure it when I was five days prego because of the baby on board.

Actually, I guess that's not the only thing of value we own anymore... because Tweet's bedroom situation is looking pretty fine. I'm telling you... she has nicer stuff than we do and SHE WON'T EVEN CARE!

But, I digress. Fe and family sent us this last week:












Tweets very own espresso cup, sushi dish and rice spoon!

I mean, you could TRY to be more precious, but you would fail miserably. How cute is the mug? I may start drinking my Sprite out of it, because it's the perfect size. And the spoon? I mean, I know... I know we won't be using this for a while but... did I ever tell you that my mother used to have a monkey? Like... A REAL, HONEST-TO-GOODNESS MONKEY?

So, yea... I'm pretty pumped up about the monkey, as it's the closest I'll ever get to owning one of my own. What, with all the crazy laws about owning monkeys anymore... and people being all nervous and grossed out by possibility of having feces thrown at them... or having their faces torn off... and what kind of CIVILIZED monkey does this??

I also recently finished ready The Tall Book that Greyhound sent Tweet. Man, you have NO IDEA how much I loved that book. Really put things into perspective for me. For instance, did you realize that when you go to the Gap and try on a size 14 outfit that the mannequin is wearing, that it's completely normal that it will look like six blind hobos tried to dress you? That's because all Gap clothes are size-fitted to about a 6. A SIX?? I have a second-cousin that's a size 6, but since she's only 5 years old, she doesn't have that kind of money to spend on clothes.

And let me just tell you something else about size 6, Tweet. Size 6 doesn't podium amongst the Athena's. Size six doesn't get your college paid for... unless you're a gymnast, and trust me, you may be tumbling around in there something fierce, but gymnastics is sooooo not in your future. Through no fault of your own, mind you. In fact, when I was a kid, I used to think I had the ability to be the greatest balance beamer of ALL TIME. And then... then I got on the balance beam and WHOA, THERE, COWGIRL! Is this your first rodeo?

Yea.. my lanky legs and arms had other plans. As did my pride. This is also the reason I was never able to successfully become a rodeo clown, although parading around the yard on the shetland pony with my feet almost touching the ground comes AWFULLY close.

The Tall Book also finally gave me closure on 4th grade incident that has haunted me to this day. Turns out, there WAS a reason why I couldn't dance like all the other 4-11 girls could for the pep assembly. It was just a lot more work to get my limbs under control... which is also a great explanation for my dancing style today. Luckily, today I have what I didn't have in 4th grade... a smart mouth AND blacklights lighting up the dance floor so EVERYONE looks herky-jerky when they dance.

It's taken me 20 or so years to get over that humiliation... but at least now I can appreciate "Jump" by the Pointer Sisters again.

1 comment:

greyhound said...

I have a 12 year old tweet who's convinced that basketball, volleyball and sprinting are in her future. But she's mine, meaning she's four foot nothing with lots of slow twitch muscles.

**sigh**