How Many Monkeys?

That's right! 

The story never was "Four Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed".  Figured we'd better follow tradition. 

 Monkey #5 due July 2012!

Stupid Ice

Scene: The kitchen.  I'm at the sink doing the dishes.  Lil G is behind me making noise from across the room.  The kids are all doing their chores and stomping through the house.  The pestering started at sunrise and I'm on edge waiting for the next argument to break out.  Typical summer morning at our home.

Lil G: (angrily) Get in there stupid a--!

Me: (wide eyed and turning quickly....here we go!...)

Lil G: (shoving ice into her water bottle with frustration) 

Me: (Oh...."stupid ice"!!!  My bad!)

Option 1 or Option 2

Have you ever been in public or around other conscious humans when your bodily functions got the best of you unexpectedly?  Yeah.  It's pretty embarrassing.  (Refer to my other stellar ladylike moments here.) 

I haven't exactly figured out the physical need for certain things like runny noses, lugis, dandruff, body odor, excessive ear wax, female whiskers, or involuntary flatulence.  As far as I'm concerned they exist solely to demand individual humility to all who they haunt, which again, would apply to any and every breathing human being.  It's how our bodies were made.  It's how they function.  We may not like it or understand it or even be able to control it, but it is what it is.

I had an embarrassing moment this week.  I was coaching the Yankees t-ball team.  (Totally rad, eh?  And, yes, our team is not only adorable but pretty amazing.  We specialize in running the bases.)  The weather that day was a little chilly.  The brisk air triggered an avalanche of a runny nose, which frustrates me but doesn't surprise me.  In fact, I am always prepared for a runny nose, either mine or my child's, almost to a flaw.  It drives my husband crazy.  I stuff Kleenex up the sleeve of my shirt or in my sock.  The pockets of all my sweaters and jackets are always stocked.  On a regular basis a forgotten Kleenex shreds it's way through the laundry.  It's horribly wonderful.  But let me ask you, how do you have time or even enough appendages to get a Kleenex out and wipe your nose while pitching a baseball and shuffling 14 darling 5-year-olds from place to place?  You don't.  So I resorted to the sniff.  Sniff..sniff.....sniff.sniff...  Annoying yet effective in most scenarios.  But not that day.  

I was standing 4 feet from home base.  My Yankee was in position to hit, bat in hand & helmet on.  The coach of the opposing team was behind home base.  I bent over to pick up a ball and then and there it happened.  Unexpected nasal extraction.  I felt like a rodeo bull.  And when I realized what had just happened and that not only were two people (1 adult & 1 child) directly in front of me, but also a slew of family watching from the sidelines as well as my base coaches behind me, I knew I needed to make a quick and critical decision.  

Option 1: Draw more attention to myself by making a joke out of it.

Option 2: Pretend it never happened and pitch the dang ball.

Let's just say that Option 2 prevailed.  Until now.