Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts

Friday, 25 January 2013

Zombie Mary

I Have the Zombie Virus

 
It began with my oldest son getting a cold. HIS cold lasted one week. He also generously shared it with me...and it mutated.
 
This went from a cold to some kind of snotty, vomity, pasty-gray skin pallor I-don't-even-want-to-be-around-myself-ickiness.
 
I have been SO SICK... I am now Man Sick.
 
I came to this conclusion when I lost my sense of humor.
 
My children's Dad walks up to me in the kitchen and says:
 
"Hey, you have a three-inch long hair growing out of your back!"
 
"What?! NO! Please tell me you're messing with me."
 
"Scout's Honor," he says and holds his hand up - LIKE THIS:
 
Then I BURST into WILD TEARS!!!
 
I'm bawling away and he says "What? I swore like this!" And does it AGAIN!
 
"So? There really is! I can't see it!" Now I'm crying harder.
 
"Scouts don't swear like that!" he explains - all exasperated.
 
"How would I know? I'm a GIRL!!!" I wail.
 
"...Wow, you're really sick. You should go lay down."
And THIS is how I knew I was Man Sick.
 
NOW, how I know I have the Zombie Virus? It was my first guess. I was the right color, after all. (Not to mention I coughed, dry heaved AND sneezed at the SAME TIME - I didn't even know that was possible. It could only be worse if I had shit my pants.) 
 
Google is wonderful - or horrible - or an enabler. It all depends on how you look at it. After chatting on Facebook, I put my symptoms into Google and, Ta Da!...NO, it didn't say Zombie. It said Typhoid, or kidney failure, or I swallowed an object (I think I'd KNOW), or an anxiety disorder (which, okay - I already know), or dementia (which I'd forget), nearsightedness (I shit you not)...the list just got more horrible.

 
So I'm pretty sure I was just going to stick with my first guess. I'm becoming a zombie. I already have the shuffle down pat.
 
My brother is certain with my crappy immune system mutating a cold into something THIS AWFUL that I will cause the zombiepocalypse.
 
That's me... Zombie Mary.
 

School is Dangerous

 
Somedays I wonder what ACTUALLY goes on at my oldest son's school. This story will explain why.
 
I pick my son up from school today and I ask him how his day was.
 
"Pretty good," he says.
 
"What'd you do today?" I ask.
 
"Oh, I don't know. I made a paper airplane and some zombies," he tells me as he waves his paper airplane at me. It was pretty cool!
 
"What about reading? Did you do some reading?"
 
"......Aside from the killing, this place wouldn't be half bad," he says.
 
WOW...sounds like a negative to me.

Friday, 21 December 2012

Digging for Brains... - Doggie Dealership

Digging for Brains...

Coming up Short

 
Sooo, I went for my haircut. Yay!
 
I arrive at the hairdresser's and I wait...and wait...and wait...
 
I have been seeing the same hairdresser since there were VHS tapes (WOW - I totally just dated myself...age-wise, not like I really want to take myself for a candle-lit dinner).
 
Apparently she didn't recognize me: "I didn't realize you were here! I didn't recognize you with all that hair!" (And I picture in my head I became some freakish Cousin It, FRIGHTENING!)
 
I'm led to the chair (not the electric one - even if it is nearing the "End of Days: Mayan Style") and we decide to get rid of my hair cloak.
 
"If we're going to color, we won't need this!" She gathers my hair in a bunch in the back and WHACK - off a bundle goes on the floor. I start to laugh - a bit hysterically.
 
Then it's color time! I'm going Kick Your Ass Red (that's not the official name, but it should be). My hairdresser is teaching another girl as she works on my hair.
 
"Normally we add something to tone down the color when the hair is light like this so it doesn't go bright, but we're not going to do that here," she explains.
 
"That's right," I say. "Because we're not about subtle."
 
The girl looks a little surprised...not to mention nervous. I suppose she's not used to unstable customers being sassy.
 
The color goes on and starts to look like bloody red goop ALL OVER my head. I can't help it, I'm laughing. The stylists look at me - understandably concerned.
 
"You look like zombies on a hunt for brains with blood all over your hands," I explain as I'm giggling away. A little inappropriate I suppose considering it's MY head I'm imagining they're digging in.
 
They look down at their gooey, red gloves and my messy scalp with raised eyebrows.
 
"And I'm a little concerned you're going to be terribly disappointed."
 

If You're Going to Hate Me, Dog...

 
I have the best behaved dog in the world, and she hates me.
Daisy hardly ever barks, doesn't whiz in the house, you can literally eat with food in your lap and she'll lay beside you and turn her head away...
 
But there is NO FUN in her world! Oh, I've tried to get her to play - but I think it's against her religion. She's a Nofunitarian. And she takes it VERY seriously. I've tried to lead her into temptation with balls, ropes, chewies, stuffed toys... I even tried to BRIBE her into playing with CHEESE.
 
WOW... Sounds like the old "had to tie a pork chop around your neck to get the dog to play with you" story...
 
I'm pretty sure she's not really a dog. She might be a stuffie...or a robot. Or maybe I wrecked her.
 
I tell her I'm going to trade up. Maybe there's a dog dealership somewhere.
 
"One Chihuahua, slightly used, excellent condition, small mental issues..."
 
 
 
 

On a Side Note...

 
My oldest son says he wants false teeth so he can bounce them on the deck... I have QUESTIONS.
 
1. Do they make them out of rubber?
 
2. Do you use the 5-second rule?
 
3. Can the Tooth Fairy afford this?
 
4. What do you EAT when you have rubber teeth?
 
5. What kind of sound does your mouth make when you HAVE rubber teeth? Like squeaky shoes in the hallway? Or boing boing?
 
...And I have officially considered it WAY too long.
 

Thursday, 6 December 2012

Acid, Zombies 'n Marshmallows...Merry Christmas Baby!

Damn Cursive Writing will Eat the Flesh from Your Bones!

 
"Today we worked on corrosive writing."
 
Wow! Hearing this from my 8-year old son was a little surprising! I had visions of acidic ink EATING through the paper...poor lefty children losing their hands!
 
Things sure have changed since I was in school.
 
So, I'm trying desperately not to laugh - and his cousin (a pre-teen and IMMENSELY proud of the title) isn't fazed at ALL.
 
"Oh? What letter?" she asks.
 
"The letter G," he tells her. "I practiced my corrosive G over and over."
 
Her older sister, however, totally gets the difference between flesh dissolving G's and cursive writing. She's trying valiantly not to spontaneously combust while holding in her laughter.
 
I, on the other hand, am made of sterner stuff... I went into the kitchen to lose it.
 
Gz!!!

O' Little Town of Bethlehem...

With Zombies 'n S'mores

 
When you have Autism, life is a lot safer when things "make sense." Life should have logic, order, patterns. This is why objects get lined up, sorted, rearranged.
 
My oldest son apparently found fault with my Mom's nativity scene. I don't know, take it up with Jesus...
 
To back up - Kaelan is obsessed with Plants VS Zombies. He plays the game, draws pictures of them, makes them out of paper  with moving parts using little metal brads. He has a plastic box FILLED with zombies! (Beware, the zombiepocalypse may very well start here - after all, the box could spill.)
 
ANYWAY, the NATIVITY of madness! Kaelan has one of his paper zombies and is walking it around the livingroom... Then he's dancing it over the nativity.
 
"Is that a zombie in the nativity?"
 
"It's a dragon zombie," he explains.
 
Ahhh...that makes it a little more exciting!
 
Then he rearranges the nativity...
 
Kaelan adds a candle holder to the middle. VERY cozy! It now looks like a camp out and Joseph is on marshmallow duty.
 
 
Personally, I think the whole thing would have ended on a MUCH happier note if everyone had s'mores...
 

On the Good List...But

 
There is a very cool site called the Portable North Pole. You can go and create videos for your children from Santa.
 
It's very easy to do. The videos are personalized for each child. Name, age, grade, pictures, what they have been working on (LISTENING to Mom and Dad, etc.), and the dreaded how have they been this year?
 
 
My son's Dad created these super cool videos and Santa e-mailed them.
 
They were SO surprised (and a little concerned) that Santa had actually e-mailed them... I guess the Mom-is-going-to-e-mail-her-good-friend-Santa thing sank in, ha ha!
 
Kaelan is watching his video with wide-eyed wonder, nodding his head as Santa talks to him - he leans over to me...
 
"Santa says I have to try a little harder," whispers Kaelan.
 
"Are you going to try harder?" I ask.
 
"Yeah... But not too hard."
 
Omg...
 
"Just hard enough," he says. "But it makes me ridiculous."