I have decided that I need to spend a little more time observing people before I write my piece on Clueless People Saying Funny Things. Either that or I need to be in a different mood.
Today at work the little boy I nanny for had a song he decided he wanted to sing for me...like 400 times. It goes like this:
"Somebody told me that you were so stupid, but I didn't believe them, but now I believe them."
I know that sounds like he was being disrespectful, but he wasn't. And it's all his older brother's fault anyway--he taught him the song.
He sang this in response to many different questions I asked.
"Kolbe, do you want milk or juice with your lunch?"
"Somebody told me..."
"Kolbe, are you going to finish that?"
"Somebody told me..."
"Did you just say that you wanted to marry your sister?"
"Somebody told me..."
"Why don't you marry me instead?"
"BECAUSE...somebody told me..."
Unfortunately, I couldn't get mad at the kid. He was just adorable. He giggled through the entire song every single time, and I know he kept singing it because he liked the way my jaw dropped every time he said it. That, and the way he made his sister giggle when he sang it. I love those kids. They are the cutest...except for my little siblings. Hi Little Siblings!!! Anyway, I finally got tired of his singing it to me, and I hit him with a pillow. Aren't I a horrible nanny? Of course, he just laughed harder, so I hit him again. More laughing. Well, that just wasn't working for me, so I enlisted the help of his sister. We both hit him with pillows. For some reason he found this to be hilarious. So I tickled him. But then he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe, so I went back to hitting him with a pillow. Well, I finally got tired of hearing the cute kid laugh, so I went into the kitchen and washed dishes. :::sigh mixed with a laugh::: Oooh my goodness. Story of my life.
"So, Tracy, what did you do today?"
"Dishes."
"Ah. What did you do yesterday?"
"Dishes."
"Ah. What will you do tomorrow?"
"Dishes."
For some reason that has been the case for over 10 years. Well, on the bright side, I know how to clean a dish!
I think I need to cut down on the coffee. I had like three cups at Panera tonight, and I can *still* feel the caffeine running through my body--and it's 11:30. This just started happening a couple of weeks ago. I don't know why. Coffee didn't used to effect me this way. I guess I should start going with decaf.
Writing is an overwhelming job. Every time I start writing I find a million things I need to do research on before I can go any further. How annoying is that? That's one of the reasons I haven't written anything in so long. I get overwhelmed so easily. I think I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing. :::shudders::: I hate it.
Well, now it's 1:08. I started talking to my aunt, and she just left to go to bed. We usually don't see each other that much because we both keep pretty busy, but every once in a while we run into each other late at night, and end up talking for hours. Thanks, Nancy. Number one for letting me live with you, but also for being so patient and willing to listen to me talk about boring things all of the time! You're a great aunt.
Well, I have used up all of my blogging time. I'm going to get some sleep now.
12 comments:
Aaw, that sounds like so much fun! I wish I had my little siblings with me...how many do you have?
I hate my siblings. I was hit with fists and iron bars :(.
Moranzone.
How horrible for you.
Did you hit back?
No, I just stood there like an idiot and or “turned the other cheek”. It was awful.
Moranzone.
Souds just like you Tracy.
I remember always being at your house, and you would kick everyone out of the kitchen 'cause you had to do "your dishes" hehe...I remember you calling them your dishes. that always cracked me up.
Or you would just do them late at night when everyone was in bed, except April, Kelly, Mary, and I who were prank calling people in the living room. :)
Moranzone. You sound almost as cynical as JB. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you *are* JB. But if you're not, and you really did have a bad childhood, then you have my deepest sympathy.
What if I am JB and still had a terrible childhood?
Moranzone
Then I would say...
Moranzone? Where did you get that one?
And then I would say...
I don't believe you.
And then I would say...
How do you say that in Gaelic?
What if I answered:
From Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde’s “The Duchess of Padua”.
Why not?
Moranzone is ainm dom.
Moranzone.
Then I would say...
JOHN!!!!!
Then I would say...
:::laughs:::
Then I would say...
Think up another name! You are the only one who posts under more than one name!
Oh, wait...then I would say one more thing...
I thought you didn't know Gaelic?
You always have to have the last word, don’t you!
Gaelic is like a bilious attack. It surges out from time to time against one’s will. My Grandmother told me about bilious attacks; I’ve never had one myself. She’s dead but she didn’t die of a bilious attack.
Slan agus beanacht leat!
Willy the Wisp/JB/Professor Moriarty/Moranzone
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