After my “No One Loves Mona the Way She Wants to be Loved” Whine-Fest 2007, sponsored in part by the Smooth Jazz radio station and the makers of Jack Daniels, some great and magical things happened. Who knew that whining like a toddler would produce some awesome results? If I were Nathan’s age, I would write a book called, “Effective Leadership Skills for Big Kids.” Chapter 1: The Leader as a Communicator through Whining and Also? Streaking.
Nathan and I had a playdate with Ms. Grrltravler and her beautiful daughter E.
We were in the sandbox when Nathan ran behind me, bumbling toward the bathrooms. When I got up to retrieve him, he was nowhere to be found. I rounded the corner of the small building and he still wasn’t there and didn’t appear even though my call grew louder. And just when I was entered full-WHERE’S-MAH-BAHBAY??-mode fretting that someone lifted him up and headed into the bushes. Another mom who heard me yelling after Nathan said, “There he is! He’s on the other side!”
Great job, Mona. Losing your son on a first mom date is great way to showcase my superior mothering abilities.
We spent Sunday in Leavenworth, a tiny mountain town that is Washington’s version of Disneyland. It’s also my mother’s idea of paradise. If you asked her if she would rather spend a day with her youngest daughter or spend a day in Leavenworth, she’d say Leavenworth, then slip you a five-dollar check as hush money.
I spent $20 on a bottle of wine, which is the most I’ve ever spent on a bottle of wine. You know how many boxes that kind of money could buy? I could stock up on jugs of Chablis at the gas station! And whatever, Target, you can’t fool me with those wine cubes. Just because you looked in a thesaurus does not change the fact that it’s a box! Give a break! It has a spigot!
And in that Bavarian hamlet, Nathan preferred to run in the street, leading with his chin. Whenever he makes this face, it reminds me of how my sister would say, “Mona, stick out your chin and spell ‘I met.'” And what did I do? Stuck out my chin and spelled, “I-M-E-T.” And she’d tell me to do it again, only louder, until I was yelling, “I AM ET!”
I played around with my camera and captured some purdy lights.
…and the world’s only blonde Chamorro viking.
Oh Nathan. You’re about twenty years too early for Oktoberfest. But you’ve got the sidewalk sprawl down, my son.