Hey, Remember Me? Yeah! Long Time No See!

Sometimes I impress myself. Like, slack-jawed astonishment at what I just did, or is happening around me, or how I attract trouble like no one I've ever known, except for one other person. That person is my mom, Denise.

We like to call ourselves the Two Stooges, and sometimes the 'Two-and-a-half Stooges', if Adam's tagging along. In the spirit of the disastrous directions our lives sometimes take us, my mother and I have decided to write an autobiography titled How on Earth Could We Be So Stupid? and sequel, titled How on Earth Could We Be So Stupid, AGAIN?

Well, okay. Maybe we won't actually call them that - those titles might be kind of embarrassing, later on - but they're quite accurate.

I haven't actually started it yet, but I figure, at least write it down somewhere, right? Those little instances where I do a mental head-thunking excersize. Mental because I've found that if you literally pound your head against the walls in public places, people tend to look at you funny and then concentrate very hard on not looking at you at all. Sometimes they even walk very quickly to get away.

Okay, they tend to do that anyways, but usually it's because of something I can't actually control. Like my mom doing squats in the Detroit airport, or cursing a blue streak behind me as we stare blank-faced at the airport departure board that tells us we're over two hours late and our plane departed three minutes ago.

That was in Venice. Which, you'd think, Venice, right? Not so bad? Wrong.

Then, sometimes I get the feeling I should include my three-year-old cat Foxy in the Stooges thing. She'd make a full blown one, not a half-stooge. She came in the other day with a very constipated look on her face, sneezing and rubbing at her nose. Of course she didn't want me to look at what was wrong, so I had to pin her in order to get a look at the little bit of grass sticking out of her nose that atually turned out to be about six inches long. In her nose.

Don't ask. I have no clue.

And then there's Adam, who just came up to me. This was the conversation.

Adam: "Jennifer?"
Me: "Hmm?"
Adam: "My butt is itching."
Me: "Would you like me to scratch it for you?"
Adam: "Yes, please."
Me: "No!!"

I have no words. Really.

And this was kind of a useless post. Oh, well. Whatever.