Posts Tagged "office"

Rabbits and Rubber Bands

Dear Kid,

Once again, the proper authorities have failed to consult me.

You know how rabbits are generally considered to be the best symbol of fertility and reproductive efficiency?

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Rabbits are quite prolific little dudes. But they are nothing compared to rubber bands.

Rubber bands in the wild. DearKidLoveMom.comTo prove this, I voyaged into the wilds of our kitchen drawers to view the rubber bands in their natural environment.

Like most infestations, they’d wormed their way into some of the deepest, darkest corners and underneath all sorts of useful objects.

When I told Daddy I was going to declare open season on the R. B.s, he was not impressed. “We don’t have that many,” he told me.

I donned protective gear, left word with the station manager as to my coordinates, and dove in.

I scooped up a pile of rubber bands and put them on the counter.

“See?” said Daddy, “it’s not that many.”

“It’s an entire handful. More importantly, it’s just the first handful.”

I took a deep breath and dove back down to retrieve more.

And more.

And more. And more.

By the time we’d finally found most of the varmints who’d taken up residency in the kitchen, the pile was six or seven feet tall. And it was growing as we watched. Clearly, rubber bands have no need for privacy.

I pinned Dad with a Stare. A severe Stare. A Stare meant to convey the enormity of the rubber band problem.

“Whaaaat?” was his comment.

“Deal with it,” was mine.

I’m still waiting. Which worries me since (according to my calculations) the rubber bands will have taken control of our entire living space by next Tuesday.

Love, Mom

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The Best Reason to Quit Your Job Immediately

Dear Kid,

As I have mentioned more than once, wildlife belongs in the wild.

This is Part II of my Foot Saga. Here’s Part I if you’ve forgotten.

We left off with my foot swollen and painful and with my trip to Urgent Care having been less than diagnostically successful. After I picked up the fabulous prescription cocktail the physician suggested, I went over to the high school for the soccer game.

Never mind the pain of trekking 92 miles from the parking lot to the stadium stands.

Why are they called “stands” if one sits in them?

After about 3 minutes, soccer mom conversation turned to my foot (which was by then doing its impression of Moby Dick). Soccer mom medical consensus quickly determined I had been bitten by a spider. Possibly twice.

Someone saw a spider in the office. Obviously, now I have to quit my job. DearKidLoveMom.comDid I mention the pain started in the middle of the afternoon while I was at work? Did I mention that WILDLIFE BELONGS IN THE WILD AND NOT UNDER MY DESK???? Obviously, I have to quit my job if spiders are going to be allowed on the premises.

Yesterday I was somewhat better what with my friends at Walgreens helping me live with reduced pain through the miracle of prescription chemistry. Still swollen, still painful, but better.

After several more people weighed in on the Diagnosis of Moi including a relatively long (and terrifying) discussion of the possibility of an attack of brown recluse spiders—ick—I learned that Mark-whose-desk-is-near-mine saw a wolf spider not too long ago. Why he didn’t report this, I have no idea. I haven’t completely ruled out a hungry walrus as the culprit, but no one’s seen a pinniped in the office recently, and they don’t hide nearly as well as spiders.

So the building people are bringing in an arachnid eliminator. Which is really fun to say (go ahead, try it. I’ll wait…See?).

In honor of the exterminator, I’m introducing Pick Your Own Cliché Time.

  • Locking the barn door after the horse is gone.
  • An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
  • A stitch in time saves nine.
  • Die, spider, die.

Every cloud has a silver lining. In this case, the silver lining is a two-blog story.

Feel free to add your own appropriate cliché in the comments.

Love, Mom



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