Thursday, June 18, 2009

My life this week: Colognes and Crayfish

So, what's new with the Dodd Squad? Nothing. But I can probably make it sound like "something." So, here it goes . . .

Jack's baseball season is in full swing. He's missed at least two games due to the flu and was inclined to miss another game this morning due to an unrelenting leg cramp, but I made him fight it/walk it off and he played a big game at Helfaer (pronounced "hell-fire"--cool, huh?) Field this morning. Helfaer Field is a little league "stadium" in the parking lot of Miller Park (where the Brewers play). It's pretty cool. Jack was especially impressed by the announcers who called the game and introduced the players as they were up to bat. He also got a RBI, so he was excited. Afterwards, they had a big cook out with burgers and brats (Jack's favorite). The nannies took lots of pictures, so I'll try to post some after they send them to me. Unfortunately, the game was at 9:00 a.m., so I was at work and had to miss it.

The other big news at our house is . . . We got a pet! But don't get too excited (Gretchen). It's only a crayfish. Regan's class raised a handful of crayfish and her teacher held a minor lottery to determine which five lucky students would get to bring one home at the end of the school year. Regan was one of the winners! She was soooo excited. The crayfish looks like a mini-lobster and even shows some personality. Good thing I don't like seafood because there is something about it that makes it look kind of yummy. I almost don't trust myself around it knowing that it is edible.

Finn is absolutely fascinated by it and loves to rest his little chin on the counter and watch it hide in its castle. It has quite a little pad--water, fluorescent rocks, and a groovy tie-dyed castle to match, all housed in a converted fish tank (RIP "Twinkle Toes"). I don't think the crayfish has a name. I'm sure it will acquire one eventually--a condition-precedent being sustained survival. In other words--we'll give it a name if it lives longer than a week.

[Twice since I've been typing this, I've heard noises out by my garage that sound like someone dragging something along my driveway. Both times, I've gotten up to investigate and can see nothing suspicious. I figure it is either the neighborhood raccoon scuttling around my downspout, or it is a drug-crazed murderer breaking into my house. So, now I'm trying to decide if I should (a) ignore it and keep typing, (b) go stare at my garage/driveway until I hear it again, or (c) put on my ninja suit and kick some A-double-dollar-signs. OK, I've made my decision: I'm going to keep typing. The edible unnamed crayfish will protect me. After all, it has a very menacing stare and its likely tastiness could be an underestimated distraction.]

You'll be pleased to know my love life is improving: Lately, People magazine has had more cologne ads than usual. I also just received their annual "Hottest Summer Bachelors" issue. However, these bachelors are no fun to look at--most of them are under 30 which is way too young for me. They just make me want to listen to Fall Out Boy and drop them off at the mall.

[I just discovered where that sound is coming from: it's thunder! Now, it's getting really loud and scary. I love it. I absolutely LOVE raging thunderstorms. Yes! Yes! Yes! I am so excited. Don't laugh--please afford me whatever small pleasures I can find].

Well, I'm afraid I have very little to complain about this week, so I'll keep it short. But before I go--a few announcements:

Congratulations on your wedding this weekend, Martha! We wish we could be there!

And Happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there and especially to my Dad, Rick, and also to Gary, Jim, John, Grandpa Johnnie, Grandpa Pat, Tony, "Step-Dad, Mark," and Uncle Mike (who will really be taking one for the team on Sunday!).

Finally, on Father's Day, especially, please remember my Jeff and Jackie's husband, Bill, who died of Melanoma this week leaving her widowed with a three-year old son. Jackie, on Father's Day I will raise my Alien head in a toast to you (and to Jenni and to Irene and to all the other Moms who now have to also be Dads . . . sigh).

Much Love,


Jenni Halley said...

Thanks for thinking of me. I bought Amberlea some flip flops at Old Navy. When we got home she came running to me with a coupon she was sure I might need. It was 1/2 off for your better 1/2, and was advertising all men's clothing 50% off. She was so proud of herself to give me the coupon and I thought I would throw up, knowing melanoma stole my better 1/2!

I was quite pleased to see Tye at his t-ball game tonight, and to see that he does NOT throw like a girl! So I guess I'm getting some of the daddy things right. Still not the same, but I guess all we can do is try.

I want you to know that I am thinking of you this coming weekend and always. Keep on keepin' on.

mka said...

I hate to break the news to you, but you still don't have a pet. Only cats and dogs count as pets to me. My cousin Scott had a "pet minnow". After it died, (which was approximately one day.) My cat Blacky dug it up (after its funeral) and ate it. I don't think Scott has forgiven me yet. I can still laugh about it though. ha ha. Love, Mom

Terri said...

WOW! Has it been that long since you've heard a thunderstorm that you've forgotten what one sounds like? :-) You need to spend summers in Nebraska. We just had golf ball size hail and it broke Bennet's storm window and damaged an estimated $1,300 to our car. It seems like almost every night there is an angry thunderstorm. So, feel free to come on down and get your angry thunderstorm fix.

Terri said...

P.S. So, tell Aubrey to saddle up because when she's in OG she'll get her fill of nasty thunderstorms and I know how she likes her a nasty thunderstorm too. :-)


Scott Foster said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
mka said...

Yeah, when you were kids and we were having a bad storm I would just say, "Don't worry, it's just a racoon in the trash". ha ha ha ha Love, Mom

Terri said...

Sometimes I can't tell the difference between thunder and other noises either. For example, the other night I thought I heard thunder and I woke up and said," Ben was that thunder?" and he said,"No, I just farted!" but really it was a storm. So, next time you think you here a noise outside your home it might just be a neighbor farting.
Love, Terri