Dear Kid,

There are many things I’m good at. There are even more things I’m not terrible at.

Opening bottles of sparkling water doesn’t fall into either of those categories.

I take incompetence to an entirely new level when it comes to opening soda water. (Not Diet Coke. For some reason I am an exceptionally gifted Diet Coke opener.) My inability to politely open a bottle of soda water is so thorough I may have to consider it one of my Super Powers.

Here’s how it goes.

Find bottle of flavored fizzy water. Place on counter for a long time. Gently turn cap. Watch in horror as it explodes all over the kitchen/workplace/breakroom. Fetch towels. Lots and lots of towels.

Other people seem to have figured out the secret code. It involves (I believe) simultaneously twisting the top in multiple directions, probably through multiple universes. It is possible that it involves secret pacts with the bottlers, being really tall, and a super-secret handshake with aliens although I haven’t been able to verify this.

After thorough analysis, I have determined there are three ways to handle this problem. One is to learn the super-secret handshake and get good at opening the bottles. The second is relying on friends to open the dang things for me. The third is to invest in a paper towel factory.

Guess which one I’m going with?

Love, Mom

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Dear Kid,

This morning I woke up waaaay before my alarm thought I needed to.

My typical MO (modus operandi) when I wake up early is to do the only rational thing and close my eyes and go back to sleep. This particular morning, however, my eyes and my brain refused to cooperate with the going-back-to-sleep plan.

Did you know that the plural of modus operandi is modi operandi? Of course you did.

Don’t ask why; I have no idea. It’s not like I went to bed early last night. But there I was: awake. Not bleary eyed where-is-my-coffee awake, but really awake. Brain functioning awake.

While going back to sleep would have been the better option, there is something delicious about really awake before you have to get up and start the day.

Things I thought about while lying in bed wide awake:

This week’s menu. Here’s what I thought: we should have one. (I never actually got around to creating it.)

Today’s blog. Here’s what I thought: I should write one.

My comforter: Here’s what I thought: I love snuggling here knowing I don’t have to get up for an hour or so.

House cleaning. Here’s what I thought: Someone should do that.

Dreams. Here’s what I thought: I can’t remember what I dreamed about.

Clothes. Here’s what I thought: Maybe I should decide what to wear today.

Clocks. Here’s what I thought: Why the heck am I awake?

Sleep. Here’s what I thought: I should probably try to get some.

Reality: Here’s what I thought: Yark! My alarm is set to go off in 10 minutes!

Breakfast: Here’s what I thought: Yum!

Clock. Here’s what I thought: How did it get to be time to leave for work already?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Well, the To Do is still staring me in the face and the elves haven’t shown up to help get any of the work done. One of these days I am going to find good, hardworking, loyal elves and I will have a clean house and finished tasks. Until then, I have a house and unfinished tasks.

Dad and I spent part of this morning cleaning in the kitchen. Yesterday, he and I went to a home remodeling show where we saw lots of things we like and pretty much nothing we can afford. Shocker, I know. We decided cleaning the kitchen would be an excellent place to start. We managed to get the center island clean and the dishes in the sink dealt with before we lost steam and interest.

The good news is that we lost steam and interest at about the same time so neither of us is annoyed with the other about not cleaning any more.

The bad news is that we lost steam and interest at about the same time so neither of us is still cleaning even though there is a great deal more to do.

Sigh.

I’m giving away a giant hug to anyone who can teach me how to make perfect medium boiled eggs—every time. I keep having the problem of the white sticking to the shell so that I end up with only half an egg. Life is tough.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Things NOT to do when you’re cooking.

1. Overcook the green beans. Mushy. Keep an eye on those babies.
2. Cut a whole bunch of onions.  Easy to tear up. Hard to see. Therefore hard to keep an eye on the green beans.
3. Step on the Puppy. Hoping something drops on the floor. Except onions.
4. Undercook the green beans. Better than overcooking. But too crunchy.
5. Cut a whole bunch of yourself. Good for the Band-Aid people. Not so good for anyone else.
6. Experiment with a new recipe. Generally better to make something once and then go for variations. Except sometimes.
7. Burn the green beans. Tricky little buggers.
8. Miss when transferring soup to a container. Makes the Puppy happy. Not so good for anyone else.
9. Set off the smoke detector. Hard to see through the smoke. Leads to stepping on a barking puppy.
10. Forget the green beans. Tricky and sneaky little buggers.

Happy cooking.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Sunday is an interesting day.

It’s either the first day of the week or the last day of the week depending on how you count these things. For some people it is a day of rest, for some it is a day of work, for some it is a day of football (at least this time of year), and for some it is a day of catching up and cooking.

No century (if you are following the Gregorian calendar) starts on a Sunday. Rosh Hashana never falls on a Sunday.

Today (for me) has turned into a day of grocery shopping (did you know that when you buy $200 worth of groceries you can’t really go through the Express Lane unless the lane you were going to go through is staffed by someone who REALLY wants to go on break?), baking, cooking, soup making, and football watching (although I didn’t turn on the Bengals game in time and missed the safety. Dang!). I am really hoping some elves show up to help clean in the kitchen but so far no sign of them.

You may be wondering where the name Sunday came from. Turns out there are a lot of etymological explanations. Unfortunately, all those explanations involve a LOT of words which I don’t have time to read (what with being the only one home to do any cleaning up in the kitchen).

Who Dey!

Love, Mom