The Price Family Home Companion

Salem's Letter to the Mayor

Salem had to write a "practice" letter to the Mayor of Sugar Land as part of her government lesson. Here it is.

Dear Mayor Thompson,

I think the taxes should be to get police departments. I also think that taxes should be lowered because my fam. and I don't have our roof fixed, still. It is a lot of money for our fam. I'm sorry you got a gun point. I also think that the cupcake law is not fair.

                                                                        Your citizen,

                                                                        Salem Price

In case you didn't understand the "gun point" comment our mayor was held up at gun point in his own driveway a couple months back. I think our pricefam. email/website has the child thinking that fam. is an appropriate abbreviation for family. We still haven't had our roof replaced since Ike (we've just been patching it) but it has more to do with insurance deductibles than taxes. She's right though, it is a lot of money. I love that she brought up the cupcake law. I don't know what the mayor can do about it. Maybe tell the state, "Hey this is one of the fittest cities in Texas! Our kids can eat cupcakes anytime anywhere! Just try to stop us!" Every "citizen" would cheer him on.

Conversations with Ryan II

I was driving down the freeway when Ryan piped up from the back seat, "Hey Mom, why do those things make my dinosaur taller?" Confused I responded, "I don't know baby. What things?" Ryan sighed, "You know THOSE things that make my dinosaur taller!" I replied, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about." Ryan growled with frustration, "YES! Yes you know! Those things with the lines that make my dinosaur taller." Me frustrated right back, "Legs? Are you talking about legs? Because legs make a dinosaur taller!" Ryan, "Just turn around and look!" Irritated I said, "I'm driving down the freeway! I can't look now. I don't know what you're talking about. You'll just have to wait until we get home." Ryan grouched, "I thought moms were smart!" Complete silence filled the car...for about 30 seconds. The Ryan asked, "Mom? You KNOW those things on my dinosaur, why do they make it taller?" It took every ounce of my self-control not to bang my head repeatedly against the steering wheel screaming, "AAAHHHHHHH!!!"

Time to Slow Down

Anyone who's ever ridden in my car knows I tend to drive a little fast. Not ridiculously fast but slightly over the speed limit. Which in Houston means I go with the flow of traffic. Jeff has made comments about my driving on numerous occasions, some of which have been in front of the children. Well, the other day Ryan was pretending to drive in the back seat. I could hear him rrrrrr-ing and screeching when he called out, "Hey Mom, I'm driving fast with you. I'm going speed just like you! We have to go speed because we don't want to be late for church." Yeah, that's just great.

In my defense, my mom and Uncle Louis are the ones who taught me to drive. I'll tell you a couple stories so you know what that means. One day when I was about 13 we went out test driving new cars. When my mom got the car out on the freeway she floored it. When she got up to 90mph the salesman was stuttering and sputtering while my dad and I were laughing in the back seat. Later I told her that she really scared the guy and she just shrugged and said "Well, if I'm going to buy the car I have to see what it can do." And Louis, well, I'll just say he sees every road as the Autobahn. So you see, I never really had a chance.

As a side note I NEVER speed through residential areas. In fact I've been known to yell at the cars that speed down my street. Another lovely habit my son has also picked up.

Return to Sender

This morning, I sent Chantell an e-mail to let her know I'd just wired money to her bank account and that the money was earmarked for holiday shopping. This was both a preemptive strike and a gesture of goodwill since she will be going to the Nutcracker Market this Friday (in what has become, I fear, an annual rite of passage - along with Canton, San Marcos, and Black Friday).

Later, she replied with a cheery Thank You. It went without saying (I'd hoped), but I added "You know, this means no credit card?"

Oddly, I never heard from her again. Instead I got one of those Undeliverable messages:

*****UNDELIVERABLE*****
I'm sorry but the email sent to Chantell was NOT received. We will try to deliver this email again on Friday sometime after 9:00am. You do not need to resend this message or discuss it when you get home. Thank you and good day.

Thirty-something

Jeff had a check-up the other day. He said when the doctor asked him how old he was he completely blanked. For the life of him he couldn't remember his age (34 in December). He hoped that wasn't part of a memory test because he failed miserably. While we were laughing I recalled going through something similar. Up until about two months before my 34th birthday when some one asked me how old I was I always answered "thirty-two." That is until some one asked me in front of Jeff and when I said, "thirty-two" he said, "No you're not! You're thirty-three." I snapped back, "I'm almost thirty-three." Jeff shook his head, "No you're going to be thirty-four." I started to argue when I realized he was right. We both had some sort of mental block at thirty-three. My mind wouldn't let me turn thirty-three and his mind blocked out age all together. I think I like his memory lapse better. From now on when someone asks how old I am I'm just gonna say, "I don't know."

Not-so Early Risers

This morning Ryan asked me, "Mommy, why do mommies and daddies never wake up in the morning?" I replied,"First of all, it's not my fault you wake up at 7:00 every day, 9:00 is still morning. So Mommy and Daddy do get up in the morning. Secondly, now that your sister can make breakfast for the two of you there's really no reason for us to wake up earlier than that."

MANers

I can't count the number of times I've had to tell my children, "Stop licking ketchup off your fingers. Ketchup is for french fries not fingers" or "Don't just lick the ranch off the carrot. If you want the ranch you gotta take a bite of the carrot."

Well, tonight Jeff brought Wing Stop home for dinner. Now anyone who's gone to Wing Stop knows they have some of the best ranch dressing on the face of the earth. Wing Stop knows this and they're quite stingy with it. They give you these tiny little cups so you learn to savor every drop.

We'd just about finished eating when I looked up and saw Jeff wiping his finger around the inside of the cup and licking it off. Our kids were right there. Before I could think I said in my most motherly tone, "Jeffrey, STOP that." He gave me a look and I immediately realized my mistake.

"Why?" he asked. "Because it's gross and bad manners," I whispered. He looked me in the eye, reached down, picked up the ranch cup lid, and started licking it. "What about this?" he asked, "Is this gross?" By then, I knew better than to answer.

Bucket List

Some people have some pretty intense things on their bucket list, climbing Mt. Everest, shark fishing from a kayak, crazy stuff. Jeff's list is of a more culinary nature and tonight I was able to help him cross one more thing off. No it's not fried pickles, we crossed those off a couple of years ago and continue to crave them fortnightly. Tonight Jeff finally got to taste chocolate covered bacon and I made it happen. One trip to Whole Foods and his dream came true. He in turn is taking me to Hawaii so I can cross that off my list. That's what makes a marriage work, equal give and take.

Healthcare Nightmare

Last night I had the weirdest dream. I was sitting in the waiting room at my doctors office, it was completely packed and I was filling out a stack of paperwork about two inches thick. When I was done I went to the counter and slid my paperwork through a slot under a frosted glass window. An automated voice told me my approximate waiting time was 2 1/2 hours. That made me really mad but I had no choice but to sit back down. Then the doctor came out (she looked like my 5th grade teacher, I really didn't like my 5th grade teacher) and she handed the woman next to me my chart and a blood pressure cuff and said, "I'm running behind. Take her blood pressure for me." The woman looked at me funny and held up the cuff. As I wondered where my real doctor was, I kinda shrugged and held up my arm. We tried three times to get my BP and every time the cuff just slid of my arm. I walked up to the doctor, who was still in the waiting room handing out assignment to her patients, and told her the thing was a piece of junk and I had a better one at home. I told her the last time I checked my BP it was 101/70. She said, "That'll work, write it down."

When I turned around I saw Jeff walk in with his chiropractor. He looked at me and said, "You're still here?" I nodded and asked what he was doing. He said they were refusing to give the chiropractor the MRI results of his back so he came to get them in person. The doctor came up and asked him what he wanted. When he told her she said that she didn't have to share the results with a chiropractor because he was not a real doctor and since she ordered the MRI she would be the one to treat him. Jeff told her he wanted to look at his results and she said "FINE!" and went to the back. When she came out with Jeff's file he took it out of her hands, turned around, winked at me, and walked out. She looked at me and asked, "Do you know that man?" I said, "Yes, he's my husband." She said, "I can see you two are nothing but trouble! Get out!" Then she stormed off to the back and I woke up.

When Jeff got up this morning I told him, "I think I got a glimpse of what it'll be like if this government healthcare reform goes through." I know the current system is a frustrating mess but I believe the government sticking their hands in it certainly won't make it better.

Not the Time for Chit-chat

As many of you have come to realize, I have several pet-peeves. One such peeve is when people try to carry on a conversation with someone who is in the restroom. I believe if someone is in the potty they should be left alone. It's a concept that my lovely children just can't seem to grasp. From the number of people I've heard talking on their cell phones in public restrooms I was beginning to think I was the only one who felt this way. Today I overheard a conversation that let me know I'm not alone.

From one stall: Daughter - "Hey Mom are you going to lift weighs today?"
From other stall: Mom- "What? Don't talk to me right now."
Daughter - "Why?"
Mom - "I can't concentrate!"
Daughter -(sarcastically) "Can't concentrate on what? Peeing?"
Mom - "Shut up!"

I found the whole thing quite amusing but now have to accept that my kids may never get it.

(By the way if I call you while you're in the restroom please don't answer the phone. If I hear the toilet flush in the background I'll lose complete respect for you and may not be able to talk to you again. Unless that's your goal, don't do it.)