My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Cashew Butter: It's What's For Dinner

Man, Friday? My head was splitting like an infinitive. Thanks trees! Thanks flowers! Appreciate it! Next time keep that shit to yourselves!

Today? I’m feeling good. Mainly because I was instrumental in getting three sorority girls’ cars towed from our parking lot. The spaces are clearly marked either Faculty/Staff Only or Visitor. Nowhere does it say Students or Priss Pots Park Here. While I did not witness the actual towing, I saw the parking guy writing the tickets. Sweet, sweet justice.

While I enjoy working at a college, I do not have a fondness for that special breed of person known as a Frat Boy or a Sorority Girl. I just don’t really understand the drive behind that desperate need for sameness. I guess that’s one reason why I went to a large state university that didn’t even have a Greek system (or maybe it was because it was cheap).

And, I survived In-Law Weekend. I made spinach lasagna and corn on the cob and the hard core meat eaters had to suck it up. Dusty got some serious one-on-one time with her rarely seen grandmother and I got to disappear whenever Red needed breastfeeding. Win-win! They brought Dusty my husband’s old Matchbox car collection which included two different horse trailers with horses inside. Her favorite was the garbage truck. Naturally.

Red showed off her new walking skills (she can take eight steps in a row now before losing her balance) and was generally in a pleasant mood, possibly because she got to spend a lot of time outside giggling at the cats.

Red’s a hoot these days. She’s walking in fits and starts but she’s so enthusiastic about it that she tends to tip over and land either face first or on her butt. The former makes her angry but the latter doesn’t faze her. She is particularly happy landing on her butt when her diaper’s full of poo. And she loves, loves, loves getting her hands all down in that Area 51 when a diaper change is being attempted. She finds it hilarious when I say, “No, no! Hands off! Dammit, let me just – can you just – gimme a – damn, baby!”

She also likes to laugh. Sometimes at nothing which makes me wonder what goes on in babies’ heads. I mean, she’s being nursed, I’m reading, we’re just together on the couch. And she just all of a sudden grins and giggles. At what, I have no idea. Something’s funny, though. I hope it’s not me. I hope she’s not looking at the dreadful zits on my neck and thinking, “Dag, that’s funny whatever it is.” Or maybe she’s figuring out how to eat all the foam out of the busted chair in the music studio. She’s devious like that.

And, because the pediatrician and I brainstormed a list of proteins for her to try that won’t cause her to gag and choke, I bought a jar of cashew butter. It only cost $567. But, Red and Dusty both adore it (which is too bad because I don’t see it becoming a staple unless I win the lottery) so it's the main course now at dinner time.

Red also does this adorable thing where if you put a pillow on the floor, she’ll crawl over and put her head on it like she’s sleeping. “Night-night,” we say to her. When my mother was over, she was convinced Red was some Mensa-genius because she was saying, “Na-na! Nuh-nuh,” which my mother interpreted as “night-night.” “She’s saying it!” “No, mom, it’s just sounds. It’s a coincidence.” “No, she really understands what we’re saying.” “Okay, mom. Whatever you say.”

I have some good Dusty quotes but I can’t find them. And now I have to go to an office party – good times!


4:04 p.m. ::
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