BerthaBlog – Page 82 – Not like other chicks.

Must Be About That Time

Cat Tales, General Comments Off

Mar 182011

I’ve been sitting here on the couch, working on my research paper, for an hour or so.

Duchess has spent the entire time stretched out on the floor, dozing in the kind of comfort that only a cat can achieve.

A few minutes ago, she suddenly woke up, stretched, and ambled over to the window. I thought she was going to go check out the wildlife and see if there were any birds.

But no, she didn’t take up her normal bird-watching stance. For bird-watching she sits directly in front of the window, where she gets a maximum angle on the outside view. Now, she’s sitting off to the side of the window, and looking specifically up the street.

I glanced up at the clock, and then I understood.

It’s about time for The Director to get home. She’s waiting for her boy.

People Pay for This?

General Comments Off

Mar 132011

I’ve been doing research for a history paper, which is due at the end of the month.

I came across one of those sites where you can buy research papers. My search had turned it up because they had a paper on my topic, all ready to go. They offered the first couple of paragraphs as a sample to entice me.

“Their paper was awful,” I told Alpha Geek later. “I’d be ashamed to put my name on it. Why would anyone buy an awful paper?”

Rational as always, he pointed out: “If you’re someone who has to buy a paper, maybe it has to be awful so the teacher will believe your sorry ass actually wrote it.”

Look Out, World

Breeder's Corner, General Comments Off

Mar 092011

…The Director turned sixteen yesterday.

As always, he wanted to have his party at his favorite pizza restaurant. When he was little, parties tended to consist of parents, grandparents, and sometimes a friend near his own age.

This year, he had three of his friends from high school at the party. The adults (and older brother) sat off to the side and talked among themselves, while the birthday boy and his crew discussed video games and gadgets. They demolished most of the birthday cake, and gathered around to be impressed at the gigantic modular toy gun one of his friends had gotten him. It shoots foam darts and lights up, and is actually three different guns that can be snapped together to form a single gun.

They were all dying to see it in action. “Can we take it outside and try it out?” asked one of his friends.

At first, a decade of Mommy habit rose up and I started to demur—playing outside, next to a parking lot? Unsupervised?

Then common sense stepped in, and I told my son, “If you can’t handle a parking lot at sixteen, there’s no hope for you. Go have fun.”

So they did. They swarmed in and out a few times, reading the directions on the box and collaborating on how to make the gadget work. It was a complete guy-fest. They had a ball.

Two of his friends were dropped off by their parents. The third drove himself there. My son has peers who can drive. If he would get off his ass and sign up for driver’s ed, he would be driving.

Be afraid.

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