flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

August 10, 2011

School Daze

Because I am evil, I make my children do school work in the summer time. Every day, it's math, reading, some LA, and geography. They whine; I cackle. All is well.

Today, the topic of the day for the Moth is compound words. They gave 2 pictures, and he's supposed to come up with the words. Like there's a picture of a pinna and a congo drum - eardrum! So there's a picture of a woman and a grasshopper. Ladybug, right? Nope. According to Tim, it's personhopper. Personhopper. I was like, "Tim, is personhopper a word?" and he replied "I don't know! It could be!"

He's such a charmer.

In other news, Stinky is developing Style. When we were at the beach this summer, he got a shark-tooth necklace. It is worn all the time. But it is incomplete. He has one more key part coming in the mail. What is it? Part of his prize for learning all the states and capitals was a set of dog tags. Dog tags. Why you ask?

He needs them for his army assignment.

Apparently, he's been promoted to captain in his squad of the Kids Creek Army. Which the kids refer to as the KKA.

Maybe I should be harping on spelling this summer?

Anyhow, apparently this army is a big thing for the Lee Circle Gang. I mean, the Moth was getting court marshaled because he didn't do enough of his sentry duty at the central headquarters (that are secret from all people over 18). There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth when this demerit was announced. But Tim stiffened his upper lip and did extra entry duty so that he wouldn't get court marshaled after all.

Where on earth do they get these ideas?

Meanwhile, I am waiting to find out where I am working this year. It's a strange time. I keep looking to the horizon for a big storm. Feels like one's coming. Or maybe my husband's paranoia is rubbing off on me. (no snickers from the juvenile audience.)

Take care, and see you in the funny papers!



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