Doodle's Doodle

Last night, Gryffin sat on my lap and regaled me with various drawings on his MagnaDoodle (a slate-type device that lets you draw and erase with magnetized fillings and a magnetic pencil). First he drew me a duck (which closely resembled a blob). Next he drew me a dinosaur (which closely resembled a larger blob). Then he drew me a tiger (which closely resembled an even larger blob....sensing a pattern?). Finally, he decided to take requests and asked what I would like for him to draw.

"How about drawing me a smiley face?" I asked. As most of you know, I have a serious addiction to smiley faces. Although I am seeking treatment, my addiction remains perilous.

"Okay," he replied. He erased his previous pictures, stuck out his tongue, and carefully placed two dots in the middle of the MagnaDoodle.

"The eyes!" he told me gleefully.

Then he drew a squiggly line underneath them. "The mouth!" He was now wiggling with delight.

"Very good," I agreed. "But where's his nose?"

He concentrated for a second, then added another dot. "His nose!"

"Nice." I complimented. "But where are his ears?"

Gryffin gave me an exasperated look. Then he carefully added to blobs to the side of the 'face.' "Ears," he announced.

I noticed his enthusiasm seemed to be waning.

"I like those ears," I told him. "But where is his hair?"

By now Gryffin was obviously frustrated with my art critique. He shook his head stubbornly and growled, "No hair."

"No hair? Of course he needs hair! Where is his hair?"

Gryffin again shook his head. "No hair, Momma! No hair!"

I studied my exasperated son closely. "Why doesn't he have hair, Gryffin?"

With a triumphant gleam in his eye, Gryffin announced, "It's Daddy!"

Of course I shared it with my husband.

Strange Happenings

Anyone who knows me is aware that I love a good ghost story. I can also tell a good ghost story; simply ask some of my former students who heard one of my stories and suffered nightmares afterwards (I once told a story five years ago...those same students still come up to me today and ask if it was true). I suppose I inherited that trait from my Dad, who can also spin a good yarn. But I digress.

Usually, I'm not much for television. I find the typical shows vapid and meaningless, and I would much rather read a book. But occasionally I do enjoy relaxing in front of the tube, and invariably the shows that capture my interest involve the paranormal. My favorite show in this genre has to be Ghost Hunters, simply because they take a very skeptical approach to their investigations. I personally believe far to many "paranormal" events are simply misunderstood natural occurrences. So whenever something happens that is out of the ordinary, I don't automatically jump to the conclusion that it is the work of the dearly departed. However, last night something occurred that I cannot explain. Perhaps someone who reads this can help.

I am the first one up in the morning. After I woke up, I headed to the kitchen to start a load of laundry. But when I entered the kitchen, something very strange awaited me.

Every, and I mean every, cabinet door was open. On the floor in front of the bottom cabinets, a pyramid had been formed from various can goods. There were four on the bottom, three on the next level, and so on. They were neatly stacked with the labels all turned in the same direction.
But that's not all.

On the counter tops, three glasses had been placed in perfect alignment, side by side, with the patterns on the glasses also turned the same direction.

My first thought upon viewing this rather remarkable display was that my son, Gryffin, had been playing in the kitchen during the night (he has stacked things before). However, I quickly realized this could not be the case since Gryffin was still sound asleep....and while he could reach the bottom counters, he can not reach the top cabinets where the glasses are kept.

I also briefly suspected the cats, who can open the cabinets. But how would they stack the items so neatly?

My husband swears he did not do it, and I believe him. He simply doesn't have that much imagination (sorry hon, but its true).

So that is my strange happening. Perhaps we will be featured on Ghost Hunters someday in the future!

A Side Order of Narcotics, Please

Yesterday I took Gryffin out to eat at the local Pizza Hut. Apparently the restaurant had recently hired new staff; we had a regular waitress and a young "trainee" just learning the ropes. This young man hesitantly took our order while the waitress watched. I could tell he was nervous; he kept swallowing, fidgeting, and blushing.

Now, Gryffin was in a very good mood and obviously feeling boisterous. The hostess chose to sit us directly in front of the large screen television playing reruns of the Smurfs, and that didn't help matters. Pretty soon, Gryffin was doing his best to dismantle the newly built restaurant; I was doing my best to calm him down without causing a scene (in other words, without spanking him in public and getting my butt hauled to jail).

Our nervous young waiter returned with our order. While he served us, Gryffin decided it would be an excellent idea to climb the curtains....literally. I was pulling him back down, he was screeching "up, Mommy!" and general mayhem ensued (as is usually the case).

The waiter watched all this commotion, wide-eyed. After setting down our meal, he cleared his throat and shyly asked if we needed anything else.

Now, most people I know are familiar with my sarcastic wit, and my response would not shock those folks at all. However, this young man was not someone I knew.

Exasperated with Gryffin, who was once again shimmying up the curtains, I quipped, "Can you bring us some Valium, please?"

The young man swallowed, studied his menu pad, and then glanced at the other waitress. Leaning towards her, he whispered, "I don't see that on the menu. Is it a special?"

Needless to say, we left a nice tip.

Toilet Training Troubles

As you know, we are diligently trying to potty train our son. Progress has been slow. Very slow. Gryffin will sit on the potty now, and he will (usually) tell you when he needs a diaper changed, but he has yet to actually "use" the potty.

Yesterday, he asked if he could "go potty like Daddy?" We figured this meant he wanted to stand. Encouraged by his enthusiasm, we agreed and helped him into the bathroom. We stripped him down, positioned him in front of the potty, and then cheered him on (You can do it! Go pee pee! We're so proud of you!)

Unfortunately, nothing happened. After a couple of minutes, Gryffin turned to us, frowned, then pointed at himself and said "It won't work."

What in the world can you possibly say to that???