April's Real Blog

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Liz gets caught chewing gum an' folding undies

Liz came by the (new) house 2day, all flippy cuz a student of hers and his mother saw her folding underwear and chewing bubble gum @ the laundromat. Of course, she'd gotten 2 the pt where she had NO clean clothes 2 wear, including what she had on (P.U.!), so she loaded all the clothes in the car that Mom helped her buy from Gordo. There was so much laundry, she cd barely cram it all in2 the trunk. Next, she drove out 2 the Lucky Laundromat that's next door 2 Café. Liz had put her hair into a sloppy bun using one of those plastic clips, and she put her glasses on.

She was totally "CHOMP-CHOMP-CHEWING" on tsum bubble gum as she was unloading the dryer. And as she took her last giant pile of clothes back 2 the counter, where she was folding (4 sum reason she was doing one load at a time, from start 2 finish, insteada using multiple washers and dryers), she was blowing a ginormous bubble. And Just then, she heard a kid's voice going, "Hey, Mom!" Then there was enuf of a delay 4 her 2 dump the clothes on the table and start folding sum lacy underpants B4 the kid who'd sed, "Hey, Mom!" continued w/"There's Miss Patterson! --My TEACHER!" And @ that moment, Liz's bubblegum bubble popped in her face, so that when the kid's Mom looked @ her, she had a gr8 big splat o' pink gum covering the area from just under her nose to rite under her mouth.

Liz sez that she was so mortified, she tossed all the laundry in2, like, 3 of those baskets that U use 2 take the clothes from the washers 2 the dryers, and as fast as she cd, she used them 2 take the clothes back 2 the car as fast as she cd. When she got here, she was all, "Mom! That boy is going 2 tell every1 abt my sloppy bun, my glasses, my stinky red t-shirt an' mom jeans, the lace underwear, and the pink gum on my face!" And I sed, "Also, he mite mention that U hi-tailed outta there like sum freak w/out saying NEthing. The Mom will prolly tell the parents, 2!" And of course Liz chased me around the house, but I know it better than her, so I dashed in2 a gd hiding place, and when she ran by, I seized her from behind and got her in2 a full nelson. And gave her noogies.

After we were dun w/that, Mom told her 2 calm down and sed that the kid wd prolly just tell other kids how amazed her is that a teacher does laundry and doesn't live in the school. Liz was not convinced, but since she was here, she decided 2 eat sum of our breakfast food. She sed, "MayB next time, I'll just bring my laundry here." And Dad walked in, all, "Open-door policy." ::smirk smirk::

Apes

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4 Comments:

  • At 1:58 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    So, Little Whatsisname thinks Liz lives and breathes school work? That she doesn't have a private life. The kid should have known better, right? He's not the only one, though. Liz should have known that, at some point , she'd meet a student outside the classroom. Apologizing for being human sounds a little silly, so she can do whatever the heck she wants with her own time. All I ask is that she not dawdle.

     
  • At 4:33 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    i can cut the kid a lil bit of slack, cuz he's only in grade 4, and kids that age kinda think teachers r just, like, alwayz @ the school. or they really don't think of them being out and about during non-school time, i guess.

    but liz just gets her (freshly laundered) panties in a bunch over everything. mayB she oughta think twice abt chewing bubble gum like that when she's out in public. other than that, i'd chill abt the whole thing, eh?

    apes

     
  • At 7:04 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Same here. It's not like anything really bad happened to her. It may be even a good thing because it sort of makes her look more human.

     
  • At 2:17 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. One of the more interesting things about living in our new house/my old house from living in our little apartment in Toronto is how the marital dynamic and parenting dynamic between my lovely wife Deanna and I have changed. When we were in Toronto, I was the breadwinner and I spent most of my time in my apartment attic, doing the work which made the money which allowed me to be the breadwinner. Deanna naturally was the children’s disciplinarian, and I took the usual role of the father, which is to play with them out of doors.

    Now we are in the new house and Deanna is the breadwinner, she has gotten all kinds of strange ideas into her head. The other day, she was bringing me a box of Oaties cereal for my breakfast, when my daughter or my son (I don’t know which one), hurled their Super Teddy with their phrase “Hiiyaa Kowabunga Super Teddy!!” and the characteristic “Whap!” sound effect followed it, as it hurled into Deanna’s back and caused her to “float the Oaties” (I am sure you remember that commercial. Well, maybe you don’t. You are only 16, after all.”

    Hanging the Super Teddy by his cape, as if it were a distasteful thing to her, Deanna put the Super Teddy in my face and said, “Michael, this Super Teddy thing has got to stop!” I immediately recognized, by its unique circularly-shaped muzzle, it was not the Super Teddy used by my son or daughter in either of its other appearances in my house. However, I did not point this out to my lovely Deanna. She was not in the mood, and she even wore black lipstick to emphasize this point. It took my mind completely off the bad news I had read in the Editor and Publisher where it discussed a nice lady named Lynn Johnston and the pain she was suffering from her divorce that she planned to pass on to other people via a national medium in over 200 papers. I learned that on November 25, my wife Deanna will be dressing our children, and I expect that fact that she does this activity, common to parenting young children, will warm the hearts of all the other mothers in the world, who also dress their children. The mothers, who don’t dress their children, will probably wish they did when they hear my lovely Deanna does that.

    But I digress. My main shock was that, as Deanna is now the breadwinner, she seemed to expect me to change and become the disciplinarian for our children. Instead of calling the Super Teddy thing to a halt herself, she expects me to do it. As you know, formerly little sis, my beliefs when it comes to discipline are: If it’s funny, you can do it. To illustrate this point with my wife, I googled my eyes around on my face and said, “I think it’s kinda funny.” This was another way of saying I had no plans to stop my daughter’s hurling of Super Teddy. Deanna responded in the typical Patterson woman way to adversity, which is she turned her back on the person with whom she had a disagreement and tossed comments over her shoulder as she walked away. She said, “Just because it’s something you used to do, doesn’t make it funny.” I don’t know where she got that idea, but I have a feeling I am going to use lots and lots of photographs from my early history to prove her wrong. After all, if something doesn’t appear to be funny to some people, there is no better way of bringing their opinion to match yours, than an unceasing series of old photographs.

    So I said, “Come one, Dee--when you were a little kid, you must have done a few things that were off the wall!” My lovely Deanna sat there in a trance for a moment and then she left. When she came back, she was carrying a photo album and said, “I will show you just how ‘off the wall’ I was when I was young.” Then she showed me a picture of a woman wearing a Patterson man outfit, (collared shirt and pullover sweater and drab pants), looking down at a young Deanna Sobinski, who had apparently mastered the technique of drawing on a wall using a sponge and a bucket. The pictures on the wall were a monster in a dress, a disembodied head on a string, a sun, and a curled up horizontal snake in the grass. The pictures were a little disturbing for sponge art, but perhaps appropriate for October and Hallowe’en. I mentioned this to Deanna and she said, “No! You goof! She’s washing the drawing off the wall with the sponge and the bucket. That way I can use the phrase ‘off the wall’ to go along with your pun lead-in.” I was quite embarrassed that I had not realized my lovely Deanna was making a pun. It’s an activity she does not do very often; but now she’s the breadwinner, I suppose I better get used to it.

    Then Deanna said, “Since I am the breadwinner and you spent the last month torturing our daughter with your reminisces of your past, it’s my turn to tell you about my past. Did I ever tell you the reason why I left Milborough, all those years ago?” I said, “You said your dad started a hardware store in Burlington and so you had to leave with your parents.” My wife said, “Michael. Michael. Michael. Forget I ever said anything about that. My story will have 3 purposes (1) Give people relief from having to hear about you and your family, (2) Tell the true story about why I had to leave and (3) Point out as many bad things about my mother and her parenting as I possible can.” I said, “That’s pretty ambitious. If you are not careful, you will make people love your mother and hate you. Perhaps I should write it for you.” My lovely Deanna refused.

    So, formerly little sis, it looks like the next month will be of Deanna telling about her life with her mother (the most evil mother in the world) and why Deanna moved. I think I am going to go into an old room in the house and watch paint peel off the wall, while she tells her story. That way I will have something to sustain my interest.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

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