“Double bunny ears! Double bunny ears!”

I usually don’t watch the Olympics when they come around, but this year it’s different. I was initially enthralled by it– I mean genuinely glued to the TV and reveling in the glories of victory and the agony of defeat, et cetera.

Then… Dodge started watching it with me.

During swimming: “Just to troll, I’d start doggie paddling.”
(later during swimming): “How come when they guys win it’s like ‘YEAH! EAT IT, LOSERS!’ And when the girls win they’re like, ‘Hug, hug, oh, you guys all did great, hehe, I win.'”

During the men’s running–
Dodge: “Where’s our guy? Oh, he’s so short! Why did they put a short guy in there? He’s gonna lose. Look, Kenya’s guy is just going for a jog.”
Dad: “Yeah, he could stop and tie his shoe and he’d still win at this point.”
[Actually, he didn’t end up winning, but only because, according to Dodge, our guy “ran under everyone else’s legs”.]
Dodge: “Yeah, just to troll, stop to tie your shoe… No, wait, they have to have pit stops– And a bunch of guys run out with a new pair of shoes– ‘Double bunny ears, double bunny ears!’ And they have to make the noises– Vrrp, vrrp, vrrp! ‘Come on, come on! Tie quicker! What do you want me to do, run on my hands?!'”

So I just laugh through the entire Games now. (Also, thank you, Hunger Games, for making that word sound so sinister.)

And on a side note, watching the runners makes me want to take up running. I keep trying to remind myself that running is not fun, but I actually might try it. Once it stops feeling like the tropics outside.

Anyway, I don’t think it is humanly possible for Dodge to not make commentary while watching something. (Except Back to the Future. Somehow he was silent during that. Oh, except–
Me: “Dad, did you ever say ‘heavy’ like that?”
Dad: “Uh, I actually don’t remember.”
Dodge: “That means yes.”)

But back to the Olympics.

Now Dodge and I have comandeered the couch, remote, TV and refrigerator (Me to the DHFs: “How come you guys don’t watch the Olypics?” DHFs: “We hate the commercials.” Me: “Oh, you mean the snack breaks?”) all through primetime. Then we go to bed way too late, and wake up the next afternoon. Repeat.

I find it ironic that watching the Olympics is making me lazy. I mean, amazing athletes performing their utmost– and then there’s me, still in my pajamas until noon, and only moving to change seats during the day as I read Jane Eyre for the fifth time.

Going for the gold, baby.

Photographic Memory

A picture is worth a thousand words…. But I can’t seem to resist captions.

Owen-ito El Burrito!
ripping up carpet. My bedroom looks much better now.
Dodge, Mom, and I all went to the Lego Store on the way to the Columbus Feis. The Lego store was located in...
...the scariest Fakeworld EVER.
Driving to Queen Right Colonies with Dad. Now you have proof of my city-slicker-ness.
Poncho is the family food critic. Five stars for my pasta dinner!
Speaking of food... apple scone = YUM.
Daisy wanted a taste.
It looks like snow. But its actually fluff from the dogwood/cottonwood trees.


clover for drying.
My fleet of sprouts, most of which have since ventured bravely into the out-of-doors.
Daisy, with her "Please? / "It wasn't me" face.
Fond "Lost" memories...
This is what it's like to live with boys.
My first spinach crop!!!
Dodge took this picture of "the accidental strawberry".
The strawberries came up because Dodge threw some moldy strawberries in here last fall. We were surprised come spring! Unfortunately, the slugs had a picnic.
That is our yard. How do you like me now, Mr Perfect Lawn? Dodge took this picture, too, btw.

Tis all for now.


Happy St. Practice Day!

At my latest dance lesson, the bar below the studio was hopping. I wondered aloud why, and my teacher said dryly, “It’s St. Practice Day, I guess.” Hahaha.

So, anyway… I am excited. My Grandpa Vegas probably is, too. He tells everyone he meets that he’s Irish; he uses it alternately as a threat. (“You tell that nasty woman that if she doesn’t listen to you I’ll come down there! I’m Irish!”) I can see him now, proudly declaring “I’m Irish!” at every gathering we happen upon tomorrow, then in the next breath saying, “Them crazy Irishmen…” until I remind him that he is one of them crazy Irishmen. To which he will reply, “Yeah, I’m an Irish hillbilly” and break into his impression of an Irish jig, singing “Doe dee doe dee do; Yeah, Grandpa, click your heels!”

He’s awesome. :D

Broduil Irish,

“Don’t Oooh.”

Dinnertime Coversation:
Poncho: “Argh! I don’t want to clean up my plate!”
Dodge: “Ooooh…”
Poncho (freaking out): “Stop it! Stop it! I hate it when you oooh!”
Mom: “Calm down, Ponch…”
Poncho (freaking out more): “I HATE IT WHEN HE OOOHS!”
Mom (calmly, to Dodge): “Don’t oooh.”

Dodge and I about died laughing, the way they kept saying ooh like it was a verb, or a regular part of their vocabulary or something… You, reader, may not have laughed at all, but then I guess it was a had-to-be-there moment. Still, “don’t oooh” is now one of my favorite funny quotes.



PS I’m sick today. :(

it’s a hard-knock life

I just finished cleaning up for when my dad gets home from his work training. He’s been gone all week and it’s been really weird. Like, I could actually sit on the couch becuase he wasn’t there asleep! He works night shift, so that’s why he’s always sleeping there. My brothers used to call him “Cluck-Cluck” and “Coffee Bean” but now they call him “Sleeping Bear”. I have no idea where the other names came from, though. My brothers are so random.

So yeah… now our tables are cleaned off, the living room is semi-neat and the bathroom is sparkly. This will last about a day. I think the mess of our house is driving me toward ONF disorder, aka Obsessive Neat Freak disorder. I mean really, how hard is it to restrain yourself from putting ten thousand things everywhere??? Dodge never puts any of his stuff anywhere, becuase he knows he will have to clean it up, but Poncho, the youngest, is loony tunes!!! He tosses stuff all around the house: toys, guns, binoculars, papers, schoolbooks, drawings, crayons, stuffed animals…. OMG. that kid will be the doom of me. Not that I’m any less guilty, becuase my own room is a disaster. ah, well. at least with that you can close the door. and the desk is cleared off, so that’s somewhat of an improvement.

Every time I clean, I think of my old 4th grade teacher (now my confirmation sponsor.). She used to turn on the song “Hard-Knock Life” whenever we cleaned the classroom. It made it so much more fun. :)

Dodge is singing a song that he found on youtube. It is very funny but also too catchy that it gets stuck in your head. My favorite part is when it goes, “And now Jacob’s kaput, in a giiiiant foot!” LOL. it is a veeeeery funny joke if you watch Lost. ha-ha.

My mom just called to say that she’ll be here any minute…. oh drat. I hope she’s satisfied with my housecleaning– it could look better. I mean, really—– OH NO!!! I WAS SUPPODSED TO VACCUUM!!!!!

which reminds me: did I ever tell you about the vaccuum, I mean, “cleaning system” guy that came to our house? It was very weird. Hm. If I have not told the story before, I will tell it tomorrow. Must go vaccuum. is that even how you spell vaccuum???