Tagged With: Kris & Gene
A thistle bit Kronk
The Lad’s motorcycle has a little bathrobe which he keeps chained to a post when not in use so that it cannot run away. It fits snug over the motorbike and in its bathrobe the motorbike looks like a little cartoon viking guy. It is so endearing. This bathrobe is for keeping the wet off. … Continue reading
From the jokers who brought you Devil Bunny
I have this game and this game now. I urge you to believe me when I tell you that they are fabulous, even though this is pure speculation on my part. And if y’all want to play them with me (I would play alone if I could, fearing you and all people as I do, … Continue reading
Nothing rhymes with “papaya scent.”
Last night I said, “You make me glow like a sparrow.” “Sparrows don’t glow.” “Like the ghost of a sparrow.” “Oh, that kind of sparrow.” “You make me glow like a dead sparrow,” I said, pleased. “I try.” I showered in his shower for the first time yesterday. It was amazingly painless for a boy … Continue reading
second adolescence, god help me
When I was thirteen, I fell in love with a character on a short-lived sitcom whose name I can’t even remember now. I was desperately, sweatingly in love, turning over and over all night like an eggbeater, gazing out the window for hours, writing the poetry, singing in the shower, sure that such a love … Continue reading
Mmm, forbidden cake.
It’s not like you’ve never said it was your birthday in order to get a free dessert. This really wasn’t any worse. We waited until we were just about done with the main course. We were in that picking-at-the-food phase where you still have a few minutes before the waiter comes along and tries to … Continue reading
This just in, winter causes sadness.
This morning I found myself singing that sad song from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty in the shower. I wonder why each little bird has a someone. You know this song? Where all the animals of the forest improbably gather to provide four-part harmony like furry little do-wop girls? I think I’m not really used to being … Continue reading
Oops, no.
The Lad and I met in 1993. Because that is the year I started high school. 1993-94 Freshman 1994-95 Sophomore 1995-96 Junior 1996-97 Senior Considering that fully half of my readership is comprised of members of my high school class, I wonder that none of you caught that. Oh well, my fault. See previous entry … Continue reading
Happy anniversary, Lad.
My helmet may be too loose, too old and basically unsafe, but it has great acoustics. I discovered that I can sing at the top of my lungs while we’re riding up 680 and no one can hear me but me. I can sing, for example, “Anna Begins” over and over, putting the chorus in … Continue reading
Kicking is never the answer.
“Are you going to go on your ride tomorrow?” I asked The Lad at dinner last night, because I am The Stupid. The Lad had been planning to drive his motobike 1,000 miles in a day to get an obscure certification which would profit him nothing in the real world, much like a Bachelor’s Degree. … Continue reading
Kate Hepburn on a motorbike; let my Hepburn go.
I finally got to ride on The Lad’s motorbike this weekend. His spare helmet is too big for me so it tends to wobble around on my head a lot; I probably look like a Parkinson’s sufferer from the outside. On the first ride we took he reminded me to lean with the driver into … Continue reading