They are doing work on the road right down the street from us, and I think the noise just woke Squeezy up from her nap about an hour ahead of schedule. I share this so that if this is the shortest blog post known to man, you’ll know why. Sometimes she just randomly starts crying during her nap; then she goes back to sleep for another hour or two, so I’m kind of hoping that’s what’s going on here.
You just never know. It’s what makes my life so darn interesting.
A few weeks ago one of the homeschool websites I subscribe to announced that they would be pairing up kids for a pen pal program. And I thought, perfect! Just what we need is another responsibility for me to slack off on!!! And so I signed Bubs right up. I would have signed Stinky up, too, but I decided to wait another year or two until he doesn’t have to ask how to spell I. A day or two after I signed him up, I got an email with the name and address of another second-grade boy, at which point I announced to Bubs the joyous news that he was officially a pen pal.
Bubs was thrilled. No, really, that wasn’t sarcasm. Bubs loves words almost as much as I do, and his hilarious mispronunciations of words he has read but never heard keep me giggling. The other day he was drawing a diagram of a ship, something he does regularly thanks to his obsession with the Titanic, and he kept talking about what sounded like the wearies office. And I couldn’t figure out what in the WORLD he was talking about, so I finally made him go get the book he had gotten the word from, and– have you guessed it yet?– he was talking about the wireless office. I would mock him, except I thought lingerie was pronounced phonetically until I was in high school, and we won’t even talk about the word macabre.
Well now, that was a tangent, wasn’t it?
We were supposed to send the pen pal letter by August 2nd, which explains why I had him write it on August 3rd and finally got it into the mail on the 5th. That’s actually pretty good for me, people. I am nothing if not continually late for everything. Before I allowed him to proudly carry his letter out to the mailbox and put the red flag up, though, I had to read Bubba’s letter. Just to make sure it didn’t say anything too embarrassing like “My Mom hasn’t mopped the floor in a month” or “I’m wearing the same underwear I’ve been wearing all week.” I mean, I don’t think my son would write something like that, but I also wouldn’t have thought his brother would paint the wall behind the toilet with orange nail polish, so I’ve decided it’s best to check up on my kids as much as possible.
Thankfully, Bubba’s letter contained nothing at all incriminating of my mothering abilities, being mostly about his unfailing love of Titanic as well as an introduction of his family: Mom (Erin), Dad (Art), etc . . . just like that with the parentheses. The best part, however, was the first two sentences.
Dear J, My name is Bubs. It is spelled B-U-B-S.
Giggle. It makes me laugh every time I think about it. Isn’t he a riot?
He got a letter back from his new pen pal, who likes skateboarding. I don’t think they have anything at all in common except that they’re second-grade homeschooled boys. But that’s okay, because it’s all about making friends with all different kinds of people.
All of this led me the other day on a search across the world wide interwebs for my pen pal from elementary school. Her name was Heather, and her parents were missionaries our church supported. I was talking to my mom about how I had agonized over writing a letter to her introducing myself and asking her to be my pen pal, only I couldn’t remember how to spell pal, and I knew it wasn’t pale or pall or pail, and I finally had to go ask my parents how to spell it. So Mom asked if I was still in touch with Heather, and I said no, but I could try to find her on facebook, and using some mad internet detective skills (she’s not on there under her maiden name) I found her. And then I sent her a neurotic message reintroducing myself and saying she could approve my friend request if she wanted to, or she could ignore it if she thought I was a scary psycho stalker lady, and then I forgot to actually send the friend request, but she must be a very nice gracious person because she sent me a request instead.
So now we’re friends on facebook, and someone tagged her in a photo at a conference that took place at the college where my husband works. If I had only thought to look her up two weeks earlier, we could have gotten together and she could have enjoyed my neuroses in person! I’m sure she’s living in dark despair knowing she missed the opportunity.
In other facebook news, a friend I met a bajillion years ago at drama camp found me on facebook yesterday. I had tried to find her, but her name is kind of like Jane Smith and there are about 7000 people with her name on facebook. But she found me, and when I went to her profile page it turns out we have a mutual friend– a girl I went to high school with. I’m dying to know how they know each other. Because I met one of them at drama camp in Wisconsin and another at school in Nebraska. It’s a weird world.
I think I’ll go stalk people on facebook now.
(Speaking of stalking people on facebook, I do hope you’ll click over on the facebook button there on the left and like my blog page. It makes me happy when I think people like me. And when I’m not happy, I have a bad tendency to write long blog posts about my toenails. I’m just warning you. Do it for the children!)
Have a great day.
(Apparently the baby went back to sleep. Life is good.)