Ass Deep In Alligators--a riff

Okay, so the number of things I'm working on is outnumbered only by the number of things I SHOULD be working on but can't get to.

A. Editing Fish 4

B. Finishing Fall Games

C. Writing the class for Fiction Haiku

D. Answering an e-mail that's two weeks overdue

E. (laughs hysterically) Newsletter that's six months overdue? Holy Goddess is it SIX MONTHS OVERDUE?

F. *lapses into weeping* Update my website? *chokes on a laugh/sob*

G. *hysterical laugh cycle starts again* I LEAVE FOR NOLA WHEN?????

H. oh dear god. I HAVE ANOTHER BOOK DUE ON JUNE 15TH!!!

I. *waves hand* *speaks through full mouth* Don' min' me...mmmmm jus eeemin sum oo'ies... *wipes crumbs*

J. *stares into space* Wait, don't I have to come up with a worksheet too?

K. I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH SWAG!!!!

L. Oh my God, my workspace is a mess. Isn't it a mess? Who thinks I should clean my workspace RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

M. Yeah... I'm just going to lay here and play a phone game and pretend that other stuff doesn't exist.

N. Oh shit. Like, shit. As I was composing this I remembered I have a blog tour when I get back from NOLA.

O. Amy can't take your call right now. Please leave a message and she'll get back to you when sanity returns.

We call this condition "ass deep in alligators" or "neck deep in nematodes" or "eyeball deep in iguanas" or "pit deep in piranhas" or "cock deep in crocodiles" or "brain deep in barnacles" or please... somebody... help me...

Just don't send the zoo.

Methinks I'm already there.

Kermit Flail-- April/May HURRAY!

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!

I'm so excited to be back with Kermit Flail!

I'll admit-- this spring has just WHEEEEEEEE!!!! Gotten away from me, and at the beginning of April, I hadn't sent out any notices and everybody else was just as busy as I was so we all just sort of spaced Kermit Flail altogether.

But I was ready for this month--so ready it's out a week early, but given I'm getting ready for Book Lover's Con and am up to my ass in alligators again, I'm calling it a win!

For one thing, I'll be honest. String Boys is coming out. Yeah, sure, it's the end of May, but I'll be signing String Boys at Book Lovers, and it's a story so close to my heart. For once, I'm looking forward to the promotion behind this book--it came about in an interesting way.

But String Boys isn't the only book on the list! Let's look at some of the exciting new offerings we have!



R.J. Scott is a romance world LEGEND. Most years I participate in her blog hop for autism in April (this year was an exception and I missed being a part of it!) She writes heart wrenching romance with lovable characters, and she reached out to me to promote a really good deal! Her Harrisburg Railers are on sale at Amazon--and only available for ninety days. Changing Lines is the first of the series, it's available at a bargain, and it looks like exactly my kind of catnip--by all means come check it out!

Changing Lines--and the entire Harrisburg Railers series--on sale from Amazon exclusively!

Can hockey phenom Tennant show coach Jared that age is just a number, and that love is all that matters in this May/December love story? Read book #1, for only 99c, in the bestselling Railers MM hockey romance series which is filled with family, humor, team dynamics, hockey action, unforgettable characters, steamy bedplay, and a guaranteed happy ever after. The
complete six-book Railers series has today gone Amazon-exclusive (also available to read for free with your Kindle Unlimited subscription), but it’s only staying in there for 90 days, so catch it before it’s gone.

Changing Lines (book1), on sale at 99c - “… Hockey, age-gap, best friend's brother and strawberries! …”

Can Tennant show Jared that age is just a number, and that love is all that matters?

The Rowe Brothers are famous hockey hotshots, but as the youngest of the trio, Tennant has always had to play against his brothers’ reputations. To get out of their shadows, and against their advice, he accepts a trade to the Harrisburg Railers, where he runs into Jared Madsen. Mads is an old family friend and his brother’s one-time teammate. Mads is Tennant’s new coach. And Mads is the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Jared Madsen’s hockey career was cut short by a fault in his heart, but coaching keeps him close to the game. When Ten is traded to the team, his carefully organized world is thrown into chaos. Nine years his junior and his best friend’s brother, he knows Ten is strictly off-limits, but as soon as he sees Ten’s moves, on and off the ice, he knows that his heart could get him into trouble again.

BUY HERE


Pat Henshaw is one of the members of the QSAF-- the Sacramento based writer's group I attend. She's written articles for All About Romance and has generally mentored as many young writers as she can. Her newest, The Thaw, promises to be touch on her favorite motifs-- the good and the bad of finding romance in a rural setting, where being yourself isn't always as easy as it could be.




The Thaw

by Pat Henshaw

Thirty-three-year-old gay farmer, Vladimir Wozniak IV, lives for his crops and the hard work that makes them profitable every year. Five miles up the road, former rodeo bull rider and rancher, Thomas Sullivan, is just as committed to his corn-fed beef. Once best friends until VJ kissed Tommy during freshman year in college, they stopped speaking when Tommy rejected VJ.

Ten years later, after the country doctor who helped bring them into the world dies and his will names them as co-owners of property, they decide to check out their inheritance to see which one wants to buy out the other. As they travel down memory lane through the Doc’s correspondence and visit familiar sites on the land, they work their way back to friendship—and beyond.

BUY HERE 


Saffron Blu is an avid reader and a writer of her own romance fiction. She gave me a heads up for this charity anthology, Love is Love, which promises a delightful variety of short stories. Please check it out!


Love is Love

Anthology

Love is Love charity anthology.

A LGBT charity anthology, with a collection of 12 new never released before romance stories.

Each story is standalone and complete.

Also including two bonus stories previously released.

Support the LGBT community around the world.

This content is for mature audiences only.

•Being Me by J.A Melville
•Affirmation by T.L Wainwright
•Finding Zaide by Kim Deister
•Hardware by Lucy Felthouse
•Against the Odds by Kacey Hamford & Amy Davies
•L.O.L - Loving Only Leo by Kamisa Cole
•Take the Chance by C.H. Thomas
•Break Away by Saffron Blu
•Fight by T.a. McKay
•The CEO’s Secret by Callie Vegas
•Collateral Beauty by S.M Phillips
•Coming Out by J.F. Holland
•June by Skye Turner
•September by Skye Turner

BUY HERE

Diana Waters is new to me--but she writes fantasy romance and that's one of my all-time favorite things! Please check out Kaidyn's Courage--it's a Romeo and Tybalt sort of story, which is always a delicious trope!

Kaidyn's Courage

by Diana Waters

Kaidyn is the son of the queen and a trainee officer in the kingdom of Sareen. He is also a Half-Blood—his father is from Iskandir, a neighboring kingdom which has been at war with Sareen for many years. Bitter and angry at the prejudice he faces, Kaidyn meets Sorin, a healer from one of Sareen’s most prominent noble families. As their relationship deepens, the war between Sareen and Iskandir grows worse. Not only will the pair inevitably become involved with the conflict one way or another, but Sorin is also hiding a secret, and time is running out for them both.

BUY HERE 

B.L. Maxwell is another Sacramento native, and whenever we see each other at conventions or through our writer's group, we talk about the vagaries of our little stretch of earth. This story looks particularly poignant to our area--I know my own father has a thing for motorcycles, and my stepmom rides them too so they can make it to shows and club functions together. The blurb for Ride gave me a little *ping* in my heart region--this one could definitely strike some chords!

Ride

by BL Maxwell

Kace Hallard leaves Sacramento, bound for the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, something he and his fatherhad always planned to do together. When his father realizes he won’t be able to make the trip, he makes Kace promise to go on his own. 

He takes off, not sure he’s up to the challenge. When he has mechanical trouble a few hours away from home, he questions his choice even more. 

Striker Johnson is just out buying lunch for the guys at the shop when he notices the handsome stranger in the parking lot checking over his Harley and looking confused. He approaches him and offers his help. 

The next few hours fly by, and Kace asks Striker to join him. 

It’s the trip of a lifetime for them both, one man looking to ease his grief, the other riding toward emotions he has no hope of controlling. One way or another they’ll have to decide if they ride together or separately, when life throws them one more curve.

BUY HERE

Tinnean is known for quirky humor and outrageous sci-fi and fantasy. Surviving the Apocalypse: Long Leggity Beasties appears to be no exception, and with a lovers reunited them going on in the middle of the beasties, it promises to be action adventure fun!

Long Leggity Beasties

by Tinnean

Dark deeds are being done, and Jenn Canaday, a special agent with the FBI, has been assigned to look into them. This takes her to New Mexico, where cattle are being rustled and people are going missing -- one of them the niece of the state’s governor.

Meg Parkinson is a sheriff’s deputy in the small town of Laurel Hill. She and Jenn had once spent a steamy week together, but then Jenn had sent her away, something Meg hasn’t gotten over, as reluctant as she is to admit it. 

When Meg notices that the homeless camp on the edge of her town has become deserted, Jenn is brought into her vicinity to aid in the investigation. Will the former lovers be able to work together? Can they rekindle the flame that had once burned so brightly? And will they learn what’s behind all the disappearances without disappearing themselves?

BUY HERE 

Kim Fielding is another inmate, I mean resident of Northern California. But Kim lives in nearby Turlock, which is seriously in the heart of the valley. All of her Bureau stories donate their proceeds to Doctors Without Borders, and this is a series that I've been dying to sink my teeth into. (I've bought the first couple, and they're on my towering TBR list!)  So, if you want to lick the cover-model's abs, you may have to buy the book instead--just remember, the money is going to a GREAT cause!

Chained

by Kim Fielding

An agent for the Bureau of Trans-Species Affairs? That’s the best job in the world. And it’s enough for Terry Brandt, who doesn’t need personal relationships complicating his life. His newest assignment puts him undercover, investigating a Hollywood agent who may have some evil tricks up his sleeve.

Edge is not the man he appears to be. Although he’s a member of the Hollywood agent’s security staff, his true situation is darker and deeper than that. Ordered to seduce the new prospect, Edge finds himself caught in conflicting loyalties.

Haunted by their pasts and tied up in secrets, neither Terry nor Edge can afford to allow passion to interfere with duty. And with danger dogging them, it’s impossible to envision a future together.

BUY HERE

And String Boys.  Two years ago (was it only that long?) Squish was in the choir and we were all assembled in a shitty auditorium with cracked floor tile and broken sound tiles on the ceiling and a stage full of splinters to hear her perform. Before the choir sang, however, we heard the band--and in addition to the band, there was a group of nine boys who had been grabbed by the collar coerced threatened convinced by their teachers to play one of nine donated violins. The boys called themselves "string boys" and as I sat there, listening to a not-bad rendition of "Three Blind Mice", I looked at the earnest faces of those boys and this story emerged, in its entirety, from behind my eyes. I knew who Seth and Kelly were before I left the auditorium, and I carved out two months from a packed schedule to write their story. I love this book. I wrote Seth and Kelly as diverse as the population in my children's school and I love them fiercely. I hope you all give this one a chance.

String Boys

by Amy Lane
Seth Arnold learned at an early age that two things in life could make his soul soar—his violin and Kelly Cruz. In Seth’s uncertain childhood, the kindness of the Cruz family, especially Kelly and his brother, Matty, gave Seth the stability to make his violin sing with the purest sound and opened a world of possibility beyond his home in Sacramento.


Kelly Cruz has loved Seth forever, but he knows Seth’s talents shouldn’t be hidden, not when the world is waiting. Encouraging Seth to follow his music might break Kelly’s heart, but he is determined to see the violin set Seth’s soul free. When their world is devastated by a violent sexual assault and Matty’s prejudices turn him from a brother to an enemy, Seth and Kelly’s future becomes uncertain.


Seth can’t come home and Kelly can’t leave, but they are held together by a love that they clutch with both hands.


Seth and Kelly are young and the world is wide—the only thing they know for certain is they’ll follow their heartstrings to each other’s arms whenever time and fate allow. And pray that one day they can follow that string to forever… before it slices their hearts in two.

BUY HERE

The Bottom Five

Okay--

So I wasn't doing much today-- or rather I was busy but I didn't care who saw me.

Walk the dogs, go to the post office, pick up the kids, go grocery shopping, cook dinner-- that sort of thing.

Nevertheless, I did draw the line at that one wardrobe item...

I mean, battered T-shirts--yes.

Gym shorts that double as parachute pants? Why not.

There's always the three identical sets of capris that need to be pulled up from the middle of the waistband ala Kung Fu Panda, at least three times every five minutes. Sure. IDGAF.

But the backless white gym shirt that hugs my white-bread-and-sugar belly, shows off my Hawaiian flowered bra, and reads "Better Sore Than Sorry!"

THERE'S where I draw the line.

The thing is... it's brand new.

I've NEVER worn it.

But getting the urge--and then quickly losing it before even the dogs could see me--made me wonder.

Hey-- why did I decide to buy that anyway?

I mean, we ALL have wardrobe brainfarts, right? Who among us has not shelled out $60 for a dress only to have your husband wash it with something red so that we can never wear it again because dammit, the Tardis was not MEANT to be a gentle blue-tinged pink.

Okay-- that example may be a wee bit specific.

I'm just saying-- with great wardrobe freedom comes great opportunities to buy something we wish we'd not.

I mean, I have an entire era of shirts that have tacky jewelry sewn into the front bib because that was the thing then. I can't bear to give them away because they're barely worn, but I can't really wear them NOW because they make me feel like my grandmother. And, let's face it, that one tank top is my favorite and I'm never giving it up, ever, I adore it, you'll pry it out of my cold dead hands.

But you all know those clothes--the clothes we'll never wear but we're embarrassed/can't bear to part with?

The pants that keep falling down and no belt will tame them?

The white organza beach wear that will show every dimple in my ass as well as my purple flowered granny panties?

The adorable rustic overall dress that hugs my belly just a tad tightly when I sit down?

The what-was-I-thinking Goth Lace dress that doesn't work with a single bra I own?

C'mon, folks--I"m baring my closet to you here. It's your turn.

What are YOUR fashion regrets?

More adventures with boys and gas....

So Sacramento usually has one transition week between winter and summer--one real "spring" like week, where the weather is perfect 75 degrees, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the weather is A-OK.

Yeah-- that week happened when we were in San Diego--too bad, so sad, it's 93 or higher from now on, this is our life now.

Anyway-- that gives some context to our ride home.

I've got the air conditioner on because HOT and we're listening to an audiobook and the kids are like TAKE ME TO WATER but all silently.

And the audiobook is really good--it's romantic suspense, and the cops are after a teenager who didn't do it and...

And then there's this smell.

This TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE SMELL.

But the audiobook is on and is the kid going to get caught and suddenly Squish, ZoomBoy and I are rolling down our windows and letting the blast of hot air wipe us out.

And the smell goes on.

The voice on the speaker pauses, the chapter ends, and Squish goes, "ZoomBoy, if that was you, keep your window down or get the hell out of the car!"

"Hey! Don't blame me, blame the ham! It's getting hot back here!"

The audiobook starts again, and for a minute, we all think about rolling our windows up again.

And change our minds.

And anybody outside the car at that intersection got a healthy dose of murder mystery--but only if they survived the stench.

So when ZoomBoy comes out of his room tonight as I'm doing Avengers Swag Assemble and Squish is doing homework, it's only a little bit funny when he goes, "This is a test of the Emergency Flatulence system. This is only a test."  And then proceeds to do armpit farts.

Because if this was an actual Flatulence Emergency, it would have been followed by screaming, gagging, retching, and the whole lot of us attempting to flee from the living room by any means necessary.

But now you see why we needed the test.

The Truth About Steve

Ah, returning to normal is a pain in the ass. Why can't we just work out in the pool and read ALL DAY? I used to think that's what this job was all about, but now there's sending letters and making decisions and... *grumble*

Anyway--

So, this evening, ZoomBoy came and gave me a hug as I was working. He said, "So, did you notice Steve, trying to get us to open the screen door when the pet door is RIGHT THERE?"

And I said, "Okay, so, there's something you need to realize. I know when you look at her, you think of Steve as our beloved pussycat. You think, 'Oh, yeah, sure, she hides in the darkened bathroom only to dart across the hallway, claw your ankle, curse you out, and then disappear.' But that's nothing, right?"

"A personality quirk," he agrees. "Like stealing your money before spending it."

"Exactly. But the truth is much more sinister. The truth is, that underneath the ten pounds of severely allergenic cat hair--"

"That sticks to all my clothes."

"Yes, that. Underneath that, and the fleas that no amount of flea treatment can vanquish--"

"Is that where those bites are coming from?"

"We have some aloe and lidocaine on the counter. Anyway, aside from the head-butting you in the boobs at three a.m. if she doesn't have food--"

"Mom, that's only you."

"And the clawing in the arm in the middle of the night--"

"She got my nipples once. She wanted my pillow."

"Well, you're blessed. Anyway, aside from all of that, there's something else you should know about our beloved pussycat."

"Hit me with it."

"She will try to convince you that she is neglected. That nobody loves her. That she has been ignored and shunted aside for the entire day, only to be passed over in favor of the hated dogs."

"She's singing the song of her people even now."

"Well, you should know that our beloved pussycat is a LYING SACK OF FUR. I've been petting that shameless whore all fucking day."

"Understood."

"You may need to pet her too. She's still out for our ankles."

"Understood."

"Pass the word on to your sister."

"Definitely."

I work for a little while, and then I hear from the bedroom, "And you should know that Steve the cat is a LYING SACK OF FUR."

Because I'm a good mother and I warn about the shit that will happen.

Simply a lovely day...

I admit, one of the things that has changed over the years is my complete obsession with taking a thousand pictures. I am much happier in the moment than behind the camera--and the kids have grown big enough that they don't change from week to week. However now that Big T has a new girlfriend, who hasn't been obsessively recorded, I have an excuse to take bad pictures to share my joy, and she picked up Johnnie who apparently had found his soulmate and, well, it's a lovely picture.

I had to share.

I warned the kids--we were getting back late (around nine-thirty last night) and I was not going to be up to the full court press Easter. I promised a modest Easter basket--and that's all they wanted. The highlight was a Target gift card and chocolate bunnies and a few favorite sweets--but apparently, that made them happy.

This morning my parents invited us over for brunch, and that's when I got to see Big T and Alyssa--and she got to see the chickens and meet the horses, and I have to say her delight was mine too.

After that, we came home, everybody napped... well, okay. I napped. That was me. Sorry. Anyway, there was quiet time during which the ham cooked, and then when I woke up, Chicken was here to take chocolate for herself and the roommates--and, of course, to eat ham.

I also cooked brussels sprouts which will be forever known as "chicken farts" to my family, and they were DELICIOUS and I will continue to cook chicken farts in olive oil and romano cheese because YUM.

Next time I'm trying brown sugar, balsamic vinegar, and bacon. Also yum.

Anyway--

It was a quiet day, but we managed Easter, and tomorrow is school and three weeks from now is NOLA and it's all good.


 Oh yes.

And there was yarn.

This made me so happy.

I can't even tell you.

A few notes on travel

 Wow.

It's funny-- we keep saying, "We're just going to go down there and relax," but, uh, we seem to be doing an awful lot.

Monday was a little scary-- ZoomBoy had a fever and as nice as the time share is, I was thinking, "Okay, gonna spend a whole lot of time here."

But Tuesday we drove up the coast and spent a bit of time at the beach and went out for pizza, which was pretty awesome.

Although, while at the beach, ZB chivalrously chased a group of seagulls and a squirrel named Rigby away from someone's picnic, and they got revenge.

Seagulls--Francis in Familiar Demon said it best: Garbage birds.

Anyway-- so Wednesday we went to Balboa Park which is lovely, but it is apparently even lovelier on a spring day. First I dragged the family through the Timkin gallery, which was apparently something outlawed by the Geneva convention and I was unaware.  Now I know. By the way, there is nothing--and I mean NOTHING--more embarrassing than having your coffee, erm, hit your digestive system while in the bathroom in a fine art gallery.

When people are knocking.


And you're left shouting, "I'll be out as soon as I can! The toilet paper isn't coming out as it should!"

Yeah. We classed the joint up, can you tell?

Anyway-- Balboa Park was all the things-- the Natural History museum, the arboretum, the rose garden, and the smaller fine art museum. (The larger one was closed on Wednesday--much to the fam's relief.) It was food trucks on a bright afternoon and music and an overpriced gift shop and the kids being awful and yet delightful at the same time.

Wednesday was a good day.

Today Mate took me to a yarn store.

A REALLY nice yarn store. ( www.yarningforyou.com if you are interested--their stock is sublime.) I bought a few things--including their mascot--Bruce and punk rock Bruce. Their store brand is called Bruce's revenge and I bought some STUNNING colors in that, and, well, a good day.

After that we went to a craft brewery restaurant (Stone Rippers, I think) for Mate, and he might have gotten away with just a taste flight of beer and called it a day, but there was a glitch with my meal, so they refired it (and took it off the bill) and offered Mate four more tasters and a 10 oz of something called Arrogant Bastard in a gesture of "good will".

We were feeling the good will, and I drove us back.

Which was fine.

Mate found a back way that had not a damned thing to do with 5 and we called it good.

And then we came back here and I kept working on "essentials bags".  Now, I have four of them made, and I was going to stop at five and one for Squish. What they are is a bag just big enough for a cell phone and a wallet and keys-- or a trade paperback, which is how I'm going to give them away at Cinema Craptastique. I sort of love the simplicity of these bags, and how three colors can be used in myriad ways for something unique and useful. I've left little slots in the straps to weave in earbuds--if audiobooks are your thing--and I'm pretty pleased.

Anyway--I'll write up the pattern for Yarn Magazine I think--I already have a story to go with them and their theme this quarter. Yay!

Now tomorrow is the beach again and maybe a baseball game. I'm sort of hoping now. I want to be good and rested up for the trip home on Saturday.

I really want to see my dogs again.

A wee bit busy...

Okay-- so social media a little thin on the ground in recent days.

Let me give you a rundown.

We left for San Diego yesterday around eleven o'clock.

Friday, I got the kids home and cleaned the house a little.

Saturday Squish had soccer and then we cleaned the house did laundry and Squish napped because she was sick and then we got dressed and went to my stepmom's surprise 70th birthday party, which was themed in the 70's so we all wore 70's themed clothes.

It was a lot of fun--as the picture in the bus proves, and Big T's picture with his girlfriend as well--but we got back at ten o'clock at night and THEN we had to pack.

We packed... and I use that term loosely because apparently I just threw stacks of folded clothes into a bag and hoped for the best.

Then we got up at 8, I took the dogs for a walk (babies! I hate leaving them home! Chicken is watching them and staying at the house but BABIES!) and then we packed the car and loaded it up and...

Left.

I... was not feeling great. The kids were... not feeling great. Squish in particular was hacking up a lung every two minutes.

But Mate got a time share in Solana Beach and we figured we weren't going to do more than hang out by the pool and read and maybe work. I mean, Mate did taxes today--and turned them in, which I am very impressed by.

But by this afternoon ZoomBoy had spiked a fever and is feeling shitty even with medication.

And I'm thinking that tomorrow--when we'd planned to go to Balboa Park to see a museum--may have to be put off until the day after.

And when I get back, I'm gonna be eyeballs deep in prep for BookLovers.

Anyway-- if it seems like I'm a little distant, it's because I'm a little far from home.

but I will say this.

I've been listening to Audio Books in the past week, and as crappy as I felt on the way down here, Jim Butcher's Grave Peril-- which is fun for the whole family and only a wee bit PG-13-- sure did help make that trip pass better.

I think I"m officially a fan.

I'll try to have pictures tomorrow!

And... kids.

So, I made this sort of handy thing-- a pouch for my wallet and phone while I'm walking which has the earbuds stitched into it so I can stop losing them and they don't get tangled. Trust me, this is all a big deal for me, because I'm a dork.

Squish wants one.

Now, you need to picture my entire house is full of yarn.

FULL. OF YARN.

"Mommy! Can I pick the yarn for my phone pouch?"

"Yeah, sure. But it's coming last--I'm making a few for BLC."

"Okay-- what yarn can I pick?"

"Well, the stuff in that one bag is okay, and the stuff over in that box, or--"

"How about this?"

She pulls out one skein of four--four skeins for a completely planned sweater I have been thinking about for her sister.

My brain breaks.

"Uh... okay... I mean... anything else there--"

Picture the saddest most depressed face you've ever seen.

"No, no," I say. "That yarn is fine. Excellent choice. I'll do zig-zags."

She lights up. "Thank you Mom!"

And I'm calling that a parenting win.

And also...

Squish was working on a school project today during TV time. She kept asking us things like, "What's a synonym? What's an idiom? What's a metaphor?"

I'd paused TV to answer her and her brother said, "So... tell me about MacBeth."

Now, Macbeth is a sore point with me and ZoomBoy's school-- Chicken's teacher taught this play, and I'd taught it for something like eighteen years.

Chicken's teacher did a particularly shitty job of it.

I don't care how much hot shit you think you are as an AP teacher, you don't spend a week on Macbeth in high school. If you do, you're doing it wrong.

So, I start telling ZoomBoy about Macbeth, while Squish waits for the pauses to say things like, "Is dastardly deeds an idiom? Or is it alliteration? Can you give me a metaphor that will fit with a ladies finishing school for spies? I'm doing this as a report on Gail Carriger's series. What about an idiom?"

I pause in the middle of explaining how Birnam  Wood came to  Dunsinane to tell Squish, "If you want your daughter to triumph in a dog eat dog world, enroll her in our finishing school and she will bloom into the stoutest of roses, with thorns dipped in blood."

I finished Macbeth and both kids looked at me.

"How was the idiom and the metaphor?" I asked.

She gave me a smile and a thumbs up.

"It's like you're a writer," she said, batting her big blue eyes.

"Or taught English for twenty years," ZoomBoy added.

"You know, like storytelling is your jam."

I bowed.

When Chicken was in fourth grade she asked me, "What's chlorophyll? What's photosynthesis?" and I gave her the answers off the top of her head.

When I was done, she said, "How do you know that."

"I'm an English teacher," I said, because words, definitions, natch, right?

"But this is science, Mother!" and then she proceeded to check my answers against the back of the book which is where she should have been looking shit up in the first place.

I have to say, this evening did a lot to take away the sting of that moment. True story.

ZoomBoy ho!!!!

A short post tonight--I spent some awesome time chatting with a friend over Skype so awe could crochet-- believe it or not this was a big deal for me!

Anyway-- ZoomBoy.

Today Chicken and I went to Target today to buy chocolate.

Almost completely chocolate--for kids. For fun. And Easter. Because I won't have time the week before Easter to shop.

Anyway-- we hit there, and then we hit the grocery store. and then we got home and Chicken had a place to go afterwards, and I was DONE.

Anyway-- we walked in the house and I called for Squish and ZoomBoy to come help put away groceries. ZoomBoy--being the good kid he is-- came charging down the hallway, sounding like a herd of elephants.

So we heard that sound... followed by WHOOSH! THUMP! CRASH!

"Oh my God, ZoomBoy--are you okay?"

"ALL SOCKS ARE STUPID AND SHALL DIE!"

Followed by a wadded up sock, sailing across the living room.

He ran outside to empty the car, leaving Chicken and I blinking.

"Alrighty then," I said.

"All socks are stupid and shall die," she said. "I can buy that."

So, now you know.

All socks are stupid and shall die!