Red Mosquito

Higgs wrote:My daughter is 20 and mostly living at her boyfriend's family's place. She's here every Monday and Thursday though. My son is 23 and knows full well he has to be out for his 25th birthday.

Bring it.

spike wrote:Parent fail.

I awoke at 4:30am and realized I’d forgotten to order school lunches for the kid this week. It’s a no peanut and no sugar campus, so I spent the next several minutes itemizing what I knew we had in stock and what could be put together within these parameters. Settled on a ham and cheese sandwich, some Pirate’s Booty, and an apple. Picked up some sun butter for a PBJ tomorrow, since it’s too late to order that lunch too.

She was pretty excited to finally have a “lunch box” as several of her friends bring lunch. There may be no turning back.

spike wrote:My kid’s been an absolute jerk the last several days and we are set to take an overseas trip next week. Hoping she’s through this mood before then.

tree_ wrote:

spike wrote:My kid’s been an absolute jerk the last several days and we are set to take an overseas trip next week. Hoping she’s through this mood before then.

Do you ever lecture her about her attitude when she's like that? "People won't like you if you're an asshole and you will die miserable and alone"

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

spike wrote:Condolences, Reid.

Not the same of course, but when our dog died, we were direct about it. We do say he’s “gone” and avoid the word dead though.

B wrote:Oh, and we made shutterfly 8X8 books full of pictures when a pet or a family member died. The kids spent hours and hours going through them and sleeping with them.

spike wrote:The kid’s finally into Bluey. Nice to have a watchable program on for once.