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Archive for November, 2008

If you find yourself in a Thanksgiving bind, Ava has a time-saving turkey recipe for you.

Thanksgiving Day Turkey

by Ava:

  1. Get it from a turkey store.
  2. Stir it on a pot on the stove for 7 minutes.
  3. Then in the oven for 8 minutes.
  4. Take it out and sprinkle spices and little pepperonis on it.
  5. Put it on the table and eat it!

There you go, spicy turkey in 15 minutes.

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I’m thankful for a daughter who writes me poetry while we eat our morning granola.

I’m thankful for your face.

I’m thankful for your name.

I’m thankful for your rosy cheeks.

I’m thankful for your hands.

I’m thankful for your soft, soft arms.

I love you, Mama.

And I’m thankful for everything around you.

***

Hoping that your thanksgiving day is full of lovely people and scrumptious treats.

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banana, who?

Oh, the canned jokes. Thank you so much for all your contributions! They have provided Ava with a steady source of giggles and HungryMan with unpreventable eye rolls.

I think he has distributed more than one “groaner foul” in the past week. Personally, I think he reserves these for the knock, knock jokes that I create.

I don’t think that it helped matters that I tested out the interrupting starfish one on him. He wasn’t nearly as amused as Ava and I were. Perhaps it was too early in the morning.

The Dwayne one is my dad’s all-time favorite. It’s actually the first one I learned and the first one I taught Ava. She loves it and I love to hear her attempt to lisp.

The olive one has become a favorite as has the turkey one.

Watching Ava try to say “Moo” before I say “interrupting cow who?” has made me laugh so hard that I cry. Ava has a knack for interrupting that is unparalleled among her peers, a little weakness that we work on most every day.

However, the pre-planned break-in is more than she can handle. She hops up and down, flapping her arms with her lips pursed so hard that her face turns red. She’s a little tea pot ready to shout. Except she gets so steamed up that when she hears her cue all she can say is “Ah, Ah, Ah!” until finally the “Moo!” pops out of her like a screaming whistle top.

Oh, it is so fun!

Now teaching Ava the banana one has proven to be a serious tactical error. I should have gone with my first instinct to keep that one tightly wrapped around pieces of Laffy Taffy. That way school girl Ava would meet “Banana, who?” while chewing her way through a square of artificial banana flavored sugar in the company of like-minded classmates thus sparing this Mama of the endless repetition. (Three cheers for giggling girlfriends and run-on sentences).

And then Shari posted in the comments and I felt obligated to pass it on. At last count I have said “banana who” about a gazillion times. No lie.

On Wednesday, I said, “Banana, who?” all the way from our driveway to the mall parking lot two suburbs away. True story.

I finally began to answer, “banana, go away,” which caused an eruption of laughter from the backseat and had no affect on the persistent Banana whatsoever.

When the orange finally arrived on the scenes, she said, “Orange you so glad that I didn’t say ‘banana’ anymore!”

Oh, Ava, you have no idea.

We are headed to the library today to find some banana-free joke books.

At the very least, we have to keep HungyMan’s eyes spinning.

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“Mama, under the grass is dirt, right?”

“Right.”

“Dirt where the worms live?”

“Yes, where the worms live.”

“What’s under the dirt?”

“It’s different in different places. At our house there is sand and then clay, which is like hard play dough, and then there is water.

“Well what’s under all that?”

“Rock.”

“What’s under the rock?”

“More rocks.”

“Well, what’s under all the rocks?”

“There are lots and lots of rocks. The rocks go very, very deep under the ground. For miles and miles and miles. It’s farther than from here to St. Louis or even from here to Paris. That’s how deep the rocks go. And after that there is dirt again.”

Well, what’s under that dirt?”

“There is grass again and people on the grass. It’s the other side of the earth.”

“No, Mama, that’s not right cause the people will fall off. They’ll fall off if they are all the way on the bottom.”

“Ava, do you remember gravity? The gravity keeps them on the grass, just like the gravity keeps us on the grass right here. It’s the same on both sides.”

“But, but, Mama! Mama, how do dead people go up to Heaven if we put them under the dirt and the grass?

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“Mama, I always want to be with you. We’ll always be with be-chother. We’re with be-chother now and when we go to Heaven we’ll be with be-chother.

And then God will have all the boys go to one part of Heaven and all the girls go to the other part of Heaven. So all the girls will be together, and not with the boys.

But we’ll still be with be-chother. Right, Mama?”

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