The Most Powerful Government

Noooooooooo. . .not THAT kind of government. I’m talking one that’s WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY more important than that.

Setting: Langley kitchen, 5:40 a.m. on a school morning. Daughter is sitting at the bar nibbling (as only she can nibble) at a dinner roll, Father is hunched over a bowl of Corn Chex and milk shoveling them down, Son is wandering aimlessly trying to argue his case of why he DOESN’T need to wear his shoulder bag at school today when he marches in the Book Character Parade as Indiana Jones. Mother is scurrying about monitoring three people (and a toasting bagel) at once.

Mother: Dude, if you don’t have the bag, it will be harder for people to know that you are Indy while you’re in the parade.

Son: (signaling with hands and pointing finger) Well. I’ve got the whip AND the fedora. AND he didn’t have the bag in the book. (Young Indiana Jones and the Tomb of Terror–a CLASSIC. Let me tell ya.)

Mother: Alright, baby. Whatever.

Father: Buddy, most people will recognize the bag, because he’s worn it so much in the movies. (Thad has never seen an Indiana Jones movie.)

Son: But he DIDN’T have it in the BOOK. (Mother and Father give up as they have a LOT of experience trying to argue with such definitive logic since Son is a cookie cutter image of Father and Mother deals with them BOTH. Son exits stage left to go to bedroom where he will supposedly brush his teeth but will, in fact, find something with which to play for the next ten minutes.)


Father: (still shoveling in the Corn Chex) No. We have paterfamilias rule.

Daughter: What’s that?

Mother: Daddy rules.

Daughter: (yelling to her brother for clarification) SORRY, THAD. IT’S A DICTATORSHIP.

I can actually envision this in comic strip form. . .of course, I can’t draw, and I don’t write a comic strip. . .

Shortly after, Thad comes into the kitchen and says, “Let’s make a deal Momma.” “Okay.” “I’ll carry my SHOULDER BAG as my BACK PACK today. How about that?”

Sooooooooooooo. . .maybe he was THINKING while he was back in his room not brushing his teeth.

That boy.

They still managed to make it out of the house (with much hustling and insistence) by 6:07, while I sit here and type this and am late for school.

But it was SO worth it. (cue Indiana Jones Theme Song)


Hi. My name is Roxanne. This is my blog.

At least I think it is. I used to come over here to divulge bits and pieces of myself to you. . .alas, a couple of bad colds, several busy weeks, and life have occurred leaving me busy but quiet.

No. Really. I CAN be quiet. . .and if I am, either something is wrong or I am too busy to talk–which is very, very busy indeed.

I have spend three solid hours in my son’s room today. This did absolutely NOTHING to help my allergies OR to fold the ginormous pile of laundry in the floor of the living room. However, should our house catch fire in the middle of the night, neither Thad nor any fireman will be injured trying to get into or out of his bedroom or bathroom. It was not so at 2:45 this afternoon.

Now, we are off to take Victoria to Girl Scouts and make a trip to WalMart and then home again, where the clothes will still be in a big pile in the middle of the living room floor. This is especially irksome as I had actually GOTTEN THE LAUNDRY IN HAND. . .literally. All the clothing was contained in the appropriate color waiting-to-be-washed baskets. Stacks for each family member were folded neatly atop the shelf in the laundry room, then at least taken to their bedroom so you could SEE the shelf in the laundry room. Then I got sick with ick and allergies and had two busy weekends and THAT went down the tubes. You CAN actually see the shelf in the laundry room right now. You just can’t see the living room floor.

It’s autumn. It’s been dry, so this is a year with little color and lots of dead, brown leaves falling. There was a freak wind on Friday, so leaves and pine needles were everywhere. Saturday dawned cloudy. Around noon there was a little rain, and the scent of my childhood blew into the car windows on the way to Thad’s Cub Scout event. It was the scent of damp, dead leaves on a muggy day which meant that Daddy was in the deer stand and would be home when it either got too hot or when he had a deer. Heady stuff that sensory memory, smells and songs seem to be the strongest ones for me.

And now, I have to go. I’ll try to get back here before November. How are you?

Update–now with wheezing

Autumn has arrived in southeast Texas. This place does fall like nobody’s business as far as weather goes. . .hay being cut and baled. . .wildflowers blooming all over the place. Low humidity, perfect temperatures. My lungs and eyes and nose will not be the same for at least a month–and that is where I’ve been.

BUT–as you were all so sweet about my student B from last year, I wanted to let you know that he WAS identified as having Irlen Syndrome and his brother will be tested soon. I was out two days last week, so I’ve not gotten to talk to him yet myself, but just knowing what the problem is will get him well on his way to making up for lost time.