Don’t Make Me Laugh

Seriously, it hurts.  But I couldn’t stop myself from laughing a few times this morning.  This is what I woke up to.

Feel like baking this morning?

Feel like baking this morning?

The other night I made banana pancakes for dinner.  Well actually, I made the batter and got them started, and then had Nerd Child make the majority, because I couldn’t stand upright to flip them.  I also couldn’t reach to put the ingredients away, and haven’t paid enough attention to notice said ingredients were still on the counter.

Dumb freakin dogs.  Why?  I swear I feed those bozos every day, twice a day, and then they get treats multiple times per day in addition.  5:15 in the morning, I could barely walk, there was no way I could bend to sweep and wash the floors.  And by no way, I mean physically no way. Over the years I’ve noticed the severity of many illnesses and injuries are contextual.  In other words, if I had options, I’d have said I physically couldn’t get Flower Child to/from school the last couple of days.  But there’s no choice, so in fact, I could and have done it, albeit slowly and painfully.  But this?  Even the thought of attracting roaches couldn’t get me to bend and stretch in the ways necessary to clean this up.  Luckily Husband woke up when he heard me cursing, and got most of it.

Big Senile Dog went to his bed and kept his eyes away from mine, pretending he had nothing to do with it.  Mmm hmm.

Who me?  This isn't flour, it's umm, coke, yeah, it's coke.  The pugs down the hall threw this party and...

Who me? This isn’t flour, it’s umm, coke, yeah, it’s coke. The pugs down the hall threw this party and…

Ok.  Now I’m on the couch, feet up and coffee in hand.  Open my email and find a rejection for a query.  Not just any rejection, but one that was so nice, personal, and friendly, I thought it was a request.  Took me two times reading it through to realize it was, in fact, a rejection.  I don’t think I’ve ever met this agent, it isn’t likely I wouldn’t remember, but maybe I have, the note seemed that friendly.  Or maybe he follows Mrs Fringe.

I don’t know why it struck me as funny, but it did.  Maybe it’s part of always being braced for “the worst,” as I go through the query process.  Silly, because I have never experienced “the worst.”  No one has ever responded to a query of mine in a way that was rude, disparaging, or questioned my abilities.  And while I haven’t received any offers (yet!), I’m doing pretty well in terms of requests for more material.

This was turning out to be a banner day, and it wasn’t even 6am.  Sometimes you really do have to laugh.

An hour later, Flower Child is awake and getting ready.  And continuing a running conversation.  The one where she tells me bits and pieces of her interactions at school.  I’m continuing to pretend it’s possible to get socks on without bending.

“And you know what else he asked me.”

“Hmm, what did he ask you?”

“Is it true that white people don’t get cold?  Why did he ask me that, what should I tell him?”

See what I mean about the universe conspiring, and having to laugh?


  1. Girl, my dogs do the SAME thing! I had them tear apart a FULL 1lb box of Morton Salt all over my dense rug. Ever tried to vacuum salt out of a rug?


  2. Now I need to know what your advice was re: whether white folks get cold. 😛 Sorry for the rejection letter, and mostly for the flour mess. I know you’ll be published someday, but flour is hard to clean up. 🙂


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