Stuff Not to Say to Moi

"Mama, you're sooooooooo . . . large."

That's what my precious daughter said to me on Saturday. Couldn't you just eat her up?

I did take her to Weight Watchers with me that morning. She doesn't know why I go or that it has anything to do with my apparent enormousness. She entertained herself during the meeting by drawing letters on a points tracker. At one point she whispered, "Mama, somebody farted at your meeting!" After Weight Watchers, we headed to a craft fair and then out to brunch with my friend Nancy.

Later in the afternoon, I drove out of town and stayed overnight at my friend Becky's house (in case you ever spend the night at Becky's, please note that she seriously turns the heat off overnight. I assured her that this would not keep me from freeloading in the future, but that it was darned good try.) I spent most of Sunday at a dog fair with the rescue. Let me just say this about that. If you ever attend a dog festival of some sort and you see me holding a leash with a homeless dog on the other end, do not say this: "He must smell my dog." Really, do you think so? It's okay, you didn't know that the 74 people who passed by before you also said it. That's why I'm telling you for next time. Write it down if you need to.

Anyway, you can say it if you want, but my foot will reflexively connect with your shin.

In other news, our kissing gourami finally expired over the weekend. I am feeling guilty because on Friday I said this: "I really wish we could put our Christmas tree right where the aquarium is." Fitting a tree in our smallish living room involves a massive restructuring each year. Plus, I had no idea that a) our kissing gouramis would live for 11 years (I know I am prone to hyperbole, but I assure you that 11 is accurate) and b) I would be the only one to clean the aquarium - ever. I never could tell the two fish apart when both were still alive, so I never named them or anything.

P did the honors of removing the fish. I am not sure what he did with the corpse. I know he was much too large to flush. A saw me emptying the aquarium and asked where the fish had gone. I explained that he had died because he was very old and his body didn't work anymore. Now, I should also add that I was out of town for a good chunk of the weekend and neither she nor her father noticed that the fish was pressed up against the glass on the front side of the tank, actively rotting.

As I was emptying the millionth pitcher of water into the sink, A came in and leaned against the pantry door. She sighed loudly. "I sure miss Goldie."



Anonymous said…
Ah-you have to love the honesty of children! Not long ago, Chloe said to me, "Mumma, you have a big butt and I have a little butt." Gee, thanks. She then assured me that, "Daddy has a big butt too." It still didn't make me feel better, but now you know that you are not the only "large" person out there!
Beth said…
My son delights in telling people that he wants to grow into a 'big huge man' like Daddy (who, btw, is 5'8" and about 170lbs--far from huge). He also told my best friend and me that we're 'big huge women!' To him, it's a compliment--at least, that's what I tell myself.

Oh...and the only dead fish we've ever seen were at Walmart. LOL

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