Tuesday, June 12, 2007

I'd like to buy a U...

Well, there really isn't anything like hitting the ground running, is there? Took my mom to the airport yesterday morning and drove straight back into a morass of errands and to do lists and empty refrigerators and uncooperative checking accounts that appear to be a decimal point off. Ick. It's hot and humid to add to the joy. Wouldn't a lake breeze feel good right about now?

My sweet Isaiah, The Most Perfect Dog In The World, was very happy to see me Sunday and is still hot on my heels today. Wherever I am there he is. Problem is that when he's excited that little intestinally challenged issue tends to come up and my entire house now smells like the wrong end of a porta potty and death smoothie. All day yesterday the sounds of "Oh, Isaiah!" rang through the air, accompanied by the clatter of running feet. I keep telling anyone who will listen that this is a but a tiny flaw to keep him humble in his perfectness, but the gagging noises drown me out. You'd think I'd get a little sympathy since I'm always the closest one to the epicenter, but evidently not. Poor thing...is that the face of a deliberate toxic cloud?

Speaking of toxic, Sasquatch got his report card while we were gone. Photography, which had been (along with AP Biology) the big bad monster this semester ended up with a grade of...F. Lots of F words come to mind as I ponder this. First, since this is the first time we've had this happen here. Flatulent, as in my poor nearly perfect farty furry friend. Failure, which is not a word anyone likes to connect with their firstborn child. (Or any of the later ones, either). Freud, because as his father the Film Geek says, nothing says I hate you dad quite like failing Photography, of all the god forsaken subjects. Hmmm, dad is a tenured professor in film at the university level and does pretty well with freelance film projects as well. What would Freud say? On the whole I think Freud was a horse's ass, but I'd still like to hear his take on this. Finally, as this appears to have at last gotten the child's attention. Then, of course, there's the obvious F word that has gone through my head forty four times this paragraph. I suppose I should be grateful he pulled out a pass in Biology, but to get an F for missing work makes me FURIOUS. In Photography?

F_CK. Would anyone like to buy a vowel?

P.S. Happy Belated Birthday, Stu!!