I Never Really Wanted a Pony

You know how it seems like most kids go through this stage where they want a pony? I don't recall ever hitting that - maybe my family will correct my recollection, but while I wanted just about every other animal (and, in fact, had just about every other animal at some point), not so much with the ponies. And yet here I am today all set up with a hoarse.

I'll wait for you to stop throwing things at your screen. I realize it's lame (and therefore quite ready to be put down)...but this is what happens when I'm unable to communicate vocally - I think up all these puns and they have to get out somewhere. I'll try to rein them in.

With the notable exception of the past two or three years, I have lost my voice for about a week once each year. Generally it's in the January timeframe and so I had thought to escape it again this year (with the further thought that perhaps I'd broken whatever string of bad luck had started the trend in the first place). Apparently not so much. And so I give you a list of things it's darn near impossible to do without vocalizing:

  • Call the dog in from the yard
  • Tell the dog to stop eating her own leavings in the yard and get in the house. Right. Now.
  • Tell the dog she's a bad, bad dog and really...that's a gross habit she's developed.
  • Tell the kiddo "no touch the trash can" as he flips up the lid and starts fishing.
  • Tell the kiddo "no touch the trash can" as he persists in flipping up the lid and fishing while looking at you with a big grin on his face.
  • Tell the kiddo "no touch the trash can" as you bodily remove him from the general area of the trash can and wash his little grubby paws.
  • Tell the kiddo that it's fine and doesn't change anything as he throws himself on the ground and kicks his feet, screaming, when bodily removed from the general vicinity of the trash can.
  • Tell yourself any anyone else who will listen that you don't really care that it's only 8:30 a.m., you would really like a drink about now.
  • Remind the kiddo that you said "no touch" and, in fact, you meant "no touch" regarding the trash can and would he kindly remove himself from the lid before he pinches his fingers.
  • Tell the kiddo that he's ok, his fingers are not permanently damaged and didn't mommy warn him about the whole pinching thing with the "no touch" in the first place? And here's a kiss and boo boo bunny to make it feel better.
  • Read the book that the kiddo presents to you (yay! an appropriate toy!)
  • Explain why mommy can't read the book and try to mime the story of Pip the Penguin looking for his tools behind the flip up flaps.
At least building stacks with blocks requires no voice. If all goes the usual route, I should be speaking again sometime around Wednesday.

In the mean time, I'll leave you with this. It reminded me of Tim and gave me one slender reason why sometimes watching the commercials isn't a bad thing.


Anonymous said...

That's actually my cousin Llawrence.

He was always the artistic one in the family.

beth said...

I wondered if you might be related. He had a bit of family resemblance through the teeth and ears, but I didn't want to ask.


Gwynne said...

I was waiting for the spit. Where's the spit? Starbursts? Llamas? And no spit? Sheesh.

Maybe now would be a good time to take up sign language with the boy, eh? ;-) Hope you get your voice back soon!