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 GirlChild managed to shock herself in the head with the charging-end of the cordless phone today. (It makes me laugh to write that.) She cried and complained of tingling in her head that sort of came and went and we struggled with lamest-trip-to-the-ER vs. girl-has-seizures-for-life-because-we-did-nothing.
It was a tough call because GirlChild's appearance was homeless looking and you don't want to walk in with an obviously neglected child that got 120 volts to the head. (I made up the volt number. I don't know anything about electricity as shown by a previous post regarding batteries in canoes filled with water.) We had experimented with purple hair dye last week and it's fading in places. Her hair was also kinda dry and Bride-of-Frankenstein looking, but I'm not sure if that was from the phone or just because she hadn't brushed it. Outfit: high-energy orange t-shirt with sky blue capris. Barefoot. 'Cause that's how we roll to the ER.
BabyCakes took her in regardless of appearance and told me the aftershocks wore off by the time they got to the end of the driveway. Turned out to be THE lamest trip ever because they didn't even write anything on the dismissal papers. Was sort of expecting, "keep away from hair dryers and bathtubs" or "replace phone."
 Prior to our trip, I checked out CouchSurfing.org after reading about an old bloggy friend's experience with it. I found a family that was willing to take in another family and we corresponded for a bit. While she lives in Iceland with her Icelandic husband and her very Nordic children, Ko-leen is from Canada and completely snarky about lame Facebook updates which means I love her.
 AND...our two oldest kids could have been separated at birth. Behold BoyChild and Kasper! Identical hair, identical hand holds on the Nintendo DS, identical gravitational pull to the television. The only real difference is that Kasper can speak Icelandic AND English which means we'll always be the lame Americans trying to pronouce 'Eyjafjallajökull'.
 We didn't bunk down with them, but we met up a couple of times, the second time at WaterWorld in Keflavik so the kids could swim. Iceland being what it is with all sorts of hot water underground is not wanting for heated swimming pools. We swam every evening at a new pool and loved every minute of it. But before swimming in all that awesomeness you have to bathe NAKED and clean yourself before going in. And they mean it. I stole this sign off the internet because I feared the wrath of 20 naked Icelanders if I were to have taken my camera into the locker room. They inform you EXACTLY where they want to you wash before getting your funky body into their pool.
The first time was intimidating until I saw some ladies that were fatter and saggier than I was. After that, GirlChild and I embraced our nudity, soaped up (being sure to hit all the key points denoted in hot pink). GirlChild didn't really need to embrace anything because she's already sorta comfortable with being naked. Now while I was fine with the whole naked-in-front-of-Icelanders-that-I'll-never-see-again, Ko-leen and I had to work out a schedule so we didn't appear in the showers at the same time because we'd have to look each other in the eye for cake and coffee afterwards.
The most eye-catching batch of hot water comes from a geo-thermal power plant and is known as the Blue Lagoon. BoyChild's jaunt into the waters was pretty short. He couldn't take the squishy bottom on his toes, but GirlChild took full advantage of its benefits by rubbing the mud all over to maintain her youthful 7-year-old appearance.
(Attn: Iceland Shower Police - I never washed my feet...mwahahahha.....)
(It's getting too hard to fix the pic locations so forgive the messed up look of all this.)
 We only met about five other groups of Americans on our trip. Iceland logs a lot more Europeans all of whom are packing mega cameras with foot-long zoom lenses. Regardless of the language barrier, BoyChild and GirlChild wormed their way into a soccer/football match to show off their skillz....*snort*....ok, well, the German family was REALLY nice and tolerant. Here they are having fun at about 10:30 pm. 24 hours of daylight is pretty damned cool, unless you're trying to sleep.
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Sadly, Alice didn't bring a watch on the trip. A typical night's sleep with the sun streaming around the blackout curtains went like this:
Alice: What time is it?
Babycakes: Huh? Urgh....2:12.
Alice: Babycakes...what time is it?
Babycakes: *snore* Hunh? 4:25.
Alice: Wake up...what time is it?
Babycakes: Gnnnahhh...huh...5:05.
Alice: Oh.
 We had a goal to get north of the Arctic Circle and had to fly a little 8-seater plane to get to the greater metropolitan area/island of Grimsey. It was hard to find our way through the maze-like concourses of their airport, but after stepping around the chainlink fence we made it to our tour guide, Katla.
 We chose the driving option around the island since the wind could best be described as hurricane. And so Katla drove us around the tiny island pointing out the puffins, kittiwakes and terns and letting us tourist pose by the pole marking out the Arctic Circle.
The island is so tiny that Katla had a few problems turning us around on the single lane 'road' and Babycakes had to put his shoulder into freeing us from a depression. Go Babycakes! But don't push so hard that we back up over that cliff and become puffin fodder. And so we left Grimsey, saying goodbye to the 64 people who call it home and took off in our tiny plane taking out a few arctic terns with our propellor on take off. Whoops.
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*thunk*thunk*
GirlChild: What was that?
Alice: Natural selection.
We headed south to visit the Jokulsarlon Glacial Lagoon soon after. Who wants to be lounging by pool while sipping Mojitos when you could be decked out like a sherpa? How do you like that hat? You better like that hat. I paid enough for it.
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 The lagoon was pretty spectacular, even with the crazy wind having blown all the icebergs to one side. That iceberg was so blue it looked fake.
A t one point, our guide Helga (her real name) who was decked out in a way that surpassed any lame high schooler trying to North Face their way to popularity, stood holding a chunk of 1000 year old ice in her bare hands for a good 10 minutes. I don't think I heard a word she said as I pondered how long I could hold a chunk of ice in frigid weather without dropping it which I would estimate to be 30 seconds. I'd be no good as a Jokulsarlon tour guide.
Part 3 to follow...
I was about to hunker down in the WC for what I thought might be an extended period of time, when I realized I'd already exhausted the reading material on the side of the Lightdays box. I quickly fished around the bathroom until I found a book on the history of the Civil War nestled under some Q-Tips. I pondered, "WTF is that doing in here are where is my copy of Star with Brad Pitt on the front?"
I sighed heavily and resigned myself to the Civil War, written for 5th graders it seems.
Teaching math all day, I don't dabble into history books all that much, but I've always enjoyed it as long as I won't be tested on the material. The book proved interesting enough for me to continue reading it outside of the loo. And then it started to irritate me with passages like this: Book: "As the South becomes desperate, Southern soldiers fight harder than ever. Do you remember when Cortes faced Montezuma in Mexico City?"
Alice: Ummm...sorta...
Book: "Do you remember that the Aztec leader would not surrender?"
Alice: No.
Book: "Do you remember what happened?"
Alice: No
Book: CHAPTER 25: SPEECHES AT GETTYSBURG
Alice: WTF happened in Mexico City? Don't leave me hanging stupid book!
 So now I have to Google stuff and find out my Civil War book is even lamer than I first thought because Cortes did NOT face Montezuma in Mexico City, because it wasn't even called Mexico City then. I'd leave you hanging like the book, but I'm not that cruel. It was called Tenochtitlan. I had to Google Patrick Swayze after that because it's nearly impossible to read about the Civil War without thinking how Orry Main was pretty hot for a Civil War dude.
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**Favorite Quote** (re: Grant, the Original Survivor) "He was the kind of general who didn't worry much about military theories. He just outkilled and outlasted his enemy."
Unless you've been in a coma and not following your East Coast friends whining via FaceBook you might have realized I've been cooped up a bit.
 BoyChild was starting to look shaggy and I happily pulled out the electric clippers as a new indoor activity I hadn't explored yet. After some soothing words about how a little hair in his eyes wouldn't kill him, he ran off tearing his shirt from his body and my first thought about his head was "mange". And then I only wanted to wish him well in the coal mines. With the right side a little closer to the skull and a cowlick that eluded the clippers, he's only a black smudge and hacking cough away from working the tunnels.
He's skillfully been eluding me since then. But that's OK since I've found "Hoarders" ON DEMAND. It's my new favorite show that makes me feel better about the state of my house. I've had to move on after exhausting Comcast's selections of "Cake Boss" and "How It's Made." "Ruby" was hitting a little too close to home.
Babycakes shoveled pretty fast today, I think to get me out of the house faster. I tried to kidnap my neighbor but she claimed her husband was "working". Riiiigggghhhhht...and I'm going out to get groooooceriiieeesss...
Dammit, don't they even think about MY feelings?!? Didn't they realize that I'd need a designated driver for my planned stop at La Tolteca for a Modelo Especial or five? I had to satisfy myself with an order of soft chimichangas that are now sitting quite heavily in my upper GI. So lonely without a Mexican beer to digest them. 
My verbiage was getting too much for Facebook's limited space and my sister kept hinting that I should blog during my house arrest as determined by the Maryland Public School System, the Federal Government and Fat Bastard Winter (FBW).
 In addition to completing a thorough investigation of my toenail cuticles, GirlChild and I explored our artistic side on her bedroom wall.
Her Lorax isn't half bad!
 Under the butterflies, BoyChild added some wind, both artistically and literally (after consuming the dreaded Fiber Bar). The Fiber Bars are the weapon of choice during the confinement for their combination of lip-smacking tastiness and near-lethal gas producing qualities.
Babycakes sat with them in front of YouTube until GirlChild had THIS memorized. She chimes in with "nobody comes to visit me...in my little cloud" as she streaks past you leaving a wake of offensiveness.
 On what felt like day 100,000 GirlChild created TentCity in our living room. Peering closely, under my didgeridoo, you'll find her wardrobe hanging on a novelty known as "hangers". Hidden in the underbelly of TentCity is "guest bedroom" and "pile where I put my dirty clothes".
 BoyChild is so easy. World Of Warcraft. A billion and one days off of school. Bliss.
As for me, I finally took a look into my school bag that I abandoned on Day 1 of FBW. I unfortunately abandoned it with a banana sitting at the bottom that had nicely oozed all over my new gradebook. And some Algebra 2 homework. Oh well, I'm sure the kids will have forgotten they ever turned those in by the time we get back to school. Or better yet...
Alice: Class, your mastery of exponents is deplorable. After THOROUGHLY grading your last homework assignment I threw it all away in disgust after wiping the banana...er...stench of failure from my hands.
Stay Tuned for Day Billion and Two! Unless I get apathetic and watch M*A*S*H reruns all day.
Sorry about my blog header - it's all messed up and I need to get WebMaster Nick on the job. I've been silent far too long and the blog gods don't like that.
Anyhooo...I directed a few folks this way so I didn't get banned from FaceBook for showcasing pornographic material. Apparently GirlChild was rooting through my belongings and started a little chant about an old cake photo of mine that she found. I tuned her out as I was avidly searching the internet for cool ideas for math in the classroom and shirtless men.
The part of the tune that caught my ear was : "Long leggedy lady cake...with a bone behind her."
ARGHHHHHHHH........gimme that kid.....
 Our first day of inland Belize adventure took us tubing through caves at Caves Branch which was fun for the portion of the trip where my ass wasn't being dragged across rocks.
I conveniently didn't bring my camera for that ... but was able to score a pic from the internet. I wasn't able to score a picture that simulated BoyChild walking through some ants while humping an innertube through the forest. Haha. Good times.
 On the second day, we began by visiting the Mayan ruins of Xunantunich. You can see GirlChild approaching in her kickin' sun gear. The kids raced to the top (and I do mean the VERY TOP) on tilty, un-hand-railed steps, some of which had been plastered back together after an earthquake.
(dialogue at Xunantunich)
Alice: Hold my hand. Alice: Put your back against the wall. Alice: Go down those steps on your butt. Alice: Omigod I'm going to die.
 We somehow left the ruins (not dead) for a leisurely canoe trip into Barton's Creek Cave. On the way to our canoe, we found a friendly spider monkey - who took a shine to GirlChild's headband. GirlChild lost.
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Here you can see the friendly canoes. Bear in mind that we're about to enter a DARK cave. GirlChild has already screamed her way through dark caves on an inner tube so I'm concerned. Luis comes back with what looks like a small car battery and thunks it into the watery bottom of the canoe, hands us a huge spot light and then says we'll need to attach it to the battery when we get into the cave. Alice: Ummm..isn't that dangerous?! (Holy ACDelco, I'm going to be electrocuted!) Luis: It's only 12 volts. Alice: Omigod, I'm going to die. (I have no concept of what kind of impact a 'volt' has on a body.) Luis get Babycakes, BoyChild and their own killer battery settled into another canoe and gives them the keys. Babycakes isn't really an outdoorsy type of guy so I was kinda curious as to how his canoe/spotlight handling would be. Turns out he and BoyChild survived. At least Luis was in charge of the gals and I was pretty sure he could save us if GirlChild decided to drop the spotlight into the water. In order to get into the cave, you have to sort of hump your canoe between the cave wall and a rock that sits right in your way. It's not really a fast process, I'm sitting in the front, and I notice a fist-sized spider on the cave wall about 5 inches from my personal space. I'm silently freaking out because the last thing I want to do is alert GirlChild to the fact that this Godzilla Spider is hanging around and start her screaming before we even hit the cave. I move my body right as far as I can. Luis yells something lame about tipping the canoe. And I finally manage to splash enough water around the spider so that he disappears. Luis gets us over the rock and into the actual cave, we hook up the Battery-Of-Death and experience an absolutely gorgeous cave ... right up until GirlChild says, "Mom...there's a spider on your back." And the first thing that comes to mind is the tunnel scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. And I wonder if it's that evil spider from the front of the cave. And now I don't care if I tip the canoe as I start flapping my arms randomly around my shoulders since I can't even really reach my back. At some point, GirlChild says the spider is gone. I can only guess that he fell into the water in the bottom of the canoe and eletrocuted himself.
This is how you do South-of-the-Border the sad way.
Doing South-of-the-Border the RIGHT way involves a big dent in the bank account, but was ohhhhh so worth it. Let's get y'all back up to speed.
Freeing myself from the shackles of high school was nice and ended on a pretty cool note. I've housed a TV in my room for the whole year and it's only collected dust since math videos are either
a) lame
b) retarded
or
c) 25 years old.
 Well, one of my favorite students and his circle of hooligans brought in Guitar Hero and hooked it up to that there TV. I don't know that anyone else has had such a fantastic last day. I demurred when they asked me to play. I mean really - they had every song on uber-expert-devil-hard. How would I have looked slogging through "Eye of the Tiger" on medium difficulty?
 I packed up my crap and labelled all my desks in an effort to stop other teachers from swiping mine during the summer. Although I plan to do exactly that when the opportunity presents itself. No one wants to sit in my one desk abomination with the seat that tilts forward at a 45 degree angle.
Annndddd after packing up the classroom, I packed up 20 bottles of bug spray, a few bathing suits and some sunblock so we could head on down to the REAL south of the border.
Flying to Cancun was uneventful, and from there we hired a van to drive us to the town of Chetumal, just north of the Belizean border. I discovered that when poking around a town that speaks Spanish, I'm suddenly a master of Swahili. Even GirlChild knew more Spanish from Dora the Explorer - her favorite thing to say being "Ayudenme!".
 We spent the night in Chetumal and visited their very excellent Museo de la Cultura Maya. Being the culturally sensitive Americans that we are, we took pictures of the kids picking the nose of a giant monolithic face. And had to read OVER and OVER again how Mayan men would pierce their wieners with stingray spines. (Wieners being our word, not theirs.)
We were picked up the next day and driven to our beautiful stay in inland Belize via these guys, who we'll highly recommend if you need to be carted around the area and  I can't say enough good things about our stay at the Jungle Dome.
Here's a view from our porch. *sigh* I miss it already.
I'll end on this note. Hoping to fit in the GirlChild-Monkey-Attack and Spider-The-Size-Of-My-Fist story...next time!
School ended in late June, we spent 11 glorious days in Belize and Mexico and came home so that BoyChild could fracture his foot on my watch.
My friend Gretta was distracting me with some intense homework grading scenarios while BoyChild was busy missing bars on the jungle gym. He screamed, I pulled some major muscle groups trying to heft his 85 lbs. into the car and we carted him to the ER. I'll try my best to replay that evening for you.
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*arrive at the ER door and beg for wheelchair because I can't carry him any more*
GirlChild: *wail* "I wanna ride in a wheelchaiiirrrrr..." *high pitched keening*
Alice: "There are no other wheelchairs except the one for the incredibly obese."
GirlChild runs over to it but wheels in circles since she can only reach one wheel. Mean nurse tells her to stop and I think... "Do you want her wheeling in circles or screaming about wanting to be in a wheelchair?"
Babycakes arrives to pick up GirlChild right after GirlChild points out the patient with the hairy back.
I accompany BoyChild for x-rays. The techs play the game Can-Frick-Get-Behind-The-Barrier-Before-Frack-Hits-The-Button?. I predict cancer within five years for one or both.
We wait in the room, killing time by blowing up the medical gloves and playing Milk-The-Cow. Things get interesting once they give BoyChild Tylenol with Codeine for the pain.
*weep* *cry* *snicker* *laugh* *uncontrollable laughter*
BoyChild: "Penis"..."Penis wenis"...(laughs for 30 seconds)..."Penis wenis"... (laughs and almost fall off the bed)
Alice: "Every time you say that, you get one less pack of Pokemon cards."
BoyChild contemplates this for 15 seconds, stares me in the eye and yells out "Bob Evans!"
More hysterical laughter for 30 seconds followed by "Bob Evans!" This happened roughly 50 more times, each time funnier than the last.
*fart* (more laughter)
BoyChild: "Wait...it's coming." (three more farts and extended snickering)
BoyChild: "EXCUSE ME FOR ALL THE FARTS I HAVE EVER MADE!"
Nurse comes in to sit by him and asks him about the accident.
BoyChild: "I think it's here!"
Alice: "MOVE...he's gonna fart again!"
Nurse: "I'm outta here."
Discharged at 11:45 pm.
Time did permit during the break to work on the next Vanilla Ice production, but I felt my time was better spent honing my Rock Band drumming and guitar skillz. Watch out Tommy Lee! Or don't watch out as the case may be.
Turns out that if my 7 year old neighbor drums while GirlChild works the foot pedal and BoyChild sings while I guitar...we're not half bad. Or half-good.
This two week break held a lot of firsts for me that I'd like to share...
1) It's my first time that I housed a dead cat in my garage for 3 days. My poor old cat Mina decided to kick the bucket on the floor of my bedroom while I was reading a book. She sort of let out a little squeak and when I looked over, her tongue was hanging out of her mouth. We were sad.
We wrapped her in blankets and put her on the sofa in the garage. I guess I wanted Babycakes to have a final viewing or something.
The next day was pretty cold so we left her on the sofa. And thought about Pet Semetary.
The next day was even colder, but three days was my max since I'm already fearing that we have a cat ghost. A good friend of mine informed me of a great pact she has with her fam...if you think you're gonna die...you have to pull yourself out to the yard first. I second that emotion!
2) I snorted cayenne pepper up my nose.
I rarely cook. And by rarely, I mean that my kids made the comment the other day - "Hey! This dinner is hot!"
Anyhow...I made one of the few dishes I know how to make which involves lentils and rice and some Indian spices. I tossed in some cayenne pepper. My nose itched. I wiped my nose with the hand that contained cayenne pepper residue and snorted. It burns.
3) Redneck Headrests
 Babycakes manufactured some redneck headrests so we had something to strap the DVD monitors to on the drive to Savannah. Yee Haw! Pictures of the styrofoam blocks with dowels when I can find the cable for the camera.
We successfully blended at our annual pitstop at South of the Border. I'm not sure if it was the headrests or that our minivan has lost all four hubcaps now and has a Snorlax sticker on the back windshield.
Happy New Year All!
Episodes coming (as time permits during the break)...
 Dear Diary,I can't believe it - after 15 consecutive video submissions, I was finally chosen to be on Survivor! I'm pretty sure it was getting "I 'heart' Jeff" tattooed on my left pec that did it. God, it burns. I hope the first challenge isn't swimming or the salt water will kill.Yours,V. Ice
It's been a while, but this post practically wrote itself.
I guess having a blog where you haven't blogged in over a month does tend to attract businesses that would like to advertise to the three people who swing by every now and then to see if I've decided to write about the extraordinary ability of students to write profanities on my graphing calculators while failing to add two numbers together correctly.
I was contacted via e-mail.
Hello,I'd appreciate if you can give me some feedback on our site: www.regencyshop.com and our item hanging Ball chair.
I realize that you are home decor-modern design connoisseur :) I'd like to hear your opinion/feedback on our products. Also, it'd be swell if you can place our link on your
blog.
Thank you,Sean
Well, thank you Sean. I am indeed a home decor-modern design connoisseur. You're the first person to acknowledge my latent talents and I'm here to showcase what I can do for the average blogger's home.
I call this UTILITY BIN, or in IKEA-speak -URFNA For $11.35, not only can you fill your cat litter box, but you can place your pruning shears inside so that when it fills with water from the rain, they'll be good and rusty by next spring.And because I AM a home decor-modern design connoisseur, I like when things are multi-functional. Fortunately, URFNA is great for storing batons, baseball bats and swords too.
This lovely little dandy came from some leftovers my mother-in-law sent. Little did she know that the lid was great for catching MOST of the water and even better at trapping water underneath on the window sill.
 Home decor-modern design connoisseurs strive for new and exciting looks. I call this: I'm-too-lazy-to-pull-out-all-the-Christmas-ornaments-because-we're-going-out-of-town-so-I'll-let-the-kids-hang-deflated-balloons-and-assorted-crap-on-a-prelit-tree.  Keeping with the spirit of URFNA, SAMAD does a fine job of keeping all your wrapping paper together. Sorta. When it doesn't tip over.
I'll leave you with the blogging world's home decor-modern design connoisseur's ultimate design secret. When you have a large empty space that you don't know how to fill - BEACH BALLS. 
This didn't scan as clearly as I would have liked.
His reply that you can barely read...
"No, because it is not consistent? Damn I don't know this stuff. HA HA. was I close?"
Alice dropping in to let you know that she hasn't been hit by a bus or had her classroom dictatorship overthrown by a student coup. Oh, I'm a dictator alright. But a kindly one. With a big stick and a wicked backhand to the side of the head.
Not only do I not have a blog life anymore, but my real life is almost entirely school-centric. Every last minute is sucked up with lesson-plans and grading and bribing kids with the Jumbo Bag-o-Jolly Ranchers.
The straight up scoop is: I love the kids.
I hate the paperwork.
My strange existence starts far too early in the morning. I wake up and can only gulp down one cup of coffee before I pray that something ironed has magically appeared in my closet. I simply don't put on anything without a camisole or slip because there is far too much reaching in my day and I'll be damned if those kids will ever catch a glimpse of my pasty white belly.
I also realized last Friday that I hadn't shaved for at least 10 days and hoped the kids wouldn't start calling me 'Cactus' when they caught sight of my legs. They really were a travesty. I didn't even let the hair get that long in Africa in the middle of the bush.
I usually arrive in the dark at the same time as the physics teacher across the hall. We've decided to form our own bi-umvirate. Is that a word? Sort of like a triumvirate. But with two people. Instead of three.
He's cool in a completely geeky way. Here's how we work:
PhysicsMan: Hey, what math do you teach?
Me: I have all algebra.
PhysicsMan: The kids in my class stink with formulas, could you work them into your class?
Me: Sure, just slide them my way.
Now does everyone see that that exchange took no paperwork AND was completed in under 20 seconds?
We should be co-dictators of the school.
Anyhoo...I'm in the midst of filling out interim reports for the kids and there is a pull-down menu of comments that you can insert into the report. They've got everything from 'excessive absences' to 'needs to review for tests.'
For my favorite class entertainer, I've already included the comments 'has a good sense of humor' and 'needs to improve posture.' I hope his parents have a good sense of humor. Or I suspect I'll be called in soon for adding stupid comments to interim reports for a math class.
Missing you all - I suspect I won't be back into any regular blog action until next summer. It's all just too much right now. I use my 10 free minutes of me-time for a good cry and something with the word 'tequila shooter' in it. I think my interim reports could be even MORE interesting after that. Hmmmm....
Joe Blow - C - 'whines more than my kids'
Amy Smamy - B - 'no one gives a shit about your Hollister shirt'
Pat Smat - A - 'lighten up geek, it's Algebra 1'
Ted Smed - F - 'hope you can work a spatula'
Alice signing off.
 How do you kick your own daughter out of the band?
Seriously... her drumming skills keep getting us boo-ed off the stage. She's all show with her main stick-trick being the drumsticks wedged between her headband and her ears.
In an attempt to keep up with the times, Babycakes got me the much coveted Wii for my birthday and I promptly went out to purchase Rock Band for it. I'd been dying to play Guitar Hero but I guess the times they are a-movin' too fast for me and I'll need to look for it elsewhere.
And so I walked into the house with the mammoth box of instruments in an attempt to avoid lesson planning for the weekend and we immediately formed the lamest sounding band named SuperRoq. I was rooting for SuperBad (because we are) but I couldn't convince my bandmates. I play guitar, BoyChild sings and GirlChild drums (or more accurately, bangs randomly near the color she's supposed to be hitting while stomping around for the foot pedal and trying not to fall off the chair.)
BoyChild's affair with the drums ended when BabyCakes moved the chair he was sitting on during a moment of standing drum performance. Of course BoyChild went to sit back down and hit carpet. Jeez... nice move on your own son...
It appears that SuperRoq's forte is "Blitzkrieg Bop" - the only song we can make it through completely without the crowd calling for our slow death.
And there is something just wrong about BoyChild singing along to "Roxanne" - him crooning "...you don't have to sell your body to the night..." At least he's not asking questions about the deeper meaning.
In case you didn't think SuperRoq was punk enough to cover The Ramones, here's a picture of how we got crazy in the days before school started.
 ------------------------------- Hey Ho...Let's go...
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GirlChild managed to shock herself in the head with the charging-end of the cordless phone today. (It makes me laugh to write that.) She cried and complained of tingling in her head that sort of came and went and we struggled with lamest-trip-to-the-ER vs. girl-has-seizures-for-life-because-we-did-nothing.
