This weekend we organized a neighborhood clean-up and threw away approximately one ton of phone books. What.a.waste. From felled trees to paper mill pollution and gas guzzled by delivery trucks – it’s such an incredible and unnecessary cost across all levels. It’s almost as egregious as the Chicago Park District not authorizing recycling of bottles and cans at Soldier Field. And when was the last time you used a phone book? 1993?* At least we met some of our neighbors and had an excuse to eat donuts. Many, many donuts.
|Prepping for the group hug.|
On Friday Ellis and I went out Oak Park to visit Ho-Ho and drop off requested sundries. I walked into her room and immediately fell into this conversation:
Me: Hi mom.
Ellis: Hi grandma bubbles (gramah bubbbbbbble). Bubble? Bubble? [he is a bit of an uptalker when he whines or is frantic].
Ho-Ho: Look at my eyelashes. Look!
Me: OK…[I examine her eyelashes.] Yep, those are eyelashes.
Ho-Ho: You don’t see it? In the middle? They cut my eyelashes while I was sleeping.
Me: No. You curl them too much.
Ho-Ho: No, dammit. They cut the middle part of my eyelashes shorter than the rest.
This is the most obvious and reasonable explanation. Someone also stole all of her mugs. Somewhere out there, the very strange collector of Ardie oddities has added halved eye lashes and coffee mugs to his museum and/or altar.
While we were in Oak Park poking and rolling eyeballs, Mr. Swirley was at an ENT’s office getting his sinuses jabbed. Since he is so stuffed up, he was ordered to take Amoxicillin for 20 days and then get a CAT scan to look all up in his business. He also might get meningitis. In 50 years. All I heard was meningitis and something about cysts, thin bone, brain explosion (great listener, no?) – so that has come up for discussion approximately 30 times since he left the doc’s office. I am 99% convinced that tomorrow he will wake up with a hole in his head.
My discussion about a lack of transition is my transition.
Ellis continues to be a huge fan of stickers. I know you are very surprised. “Ticker? Mama? Ticker?” They are everywhere. On the carpet, floors, his safety gate has an entire army of Sesame Street characters marching across its flimsy, opaque plastic walls – I can’t keep up. I find them on my face, clothing, computer. If we aren’t playing with adhesives, we are coloring or watching music videos. Generally speaking, EK eats his crayons. Again, very surprising. However, I have to give him credit since he makes an effort to appear as if he is coloring on paper while surreptitiously slipping some colorful wax into his pie hole. I can appreciate the effort.
* I realize that my comment re: using a phone book assumes a certain level of regular access to the Internet. However, it would seem that yellow pages could cut costs by figuring out a way to identify those who still want books vs. those find them unnecessary. For example, could they send out postage paid post cards requesting that people return them should the want a hard copy phone book ? Those who don’t respond don’t receive a book. I am sure it is more difficult than this, but there should be some sort of compromise so we don’t just produce books to be immediately trashed, no? There does exist an opt-out list but the delivery men certainly weren’t referring to any piece of paper when slinging phone books over fences.