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July 10, 2006

I die, I goes to heaven, this is what they serve me

This past weekend the Bean and I made a brave solo foray down I-95 and crossed state lines deep into the heart of Connecticut. My mom is a chef on a private yacht and when the owner is away, the crew's gonna play, bitches! This means inviting your daughter and her two-year old to spend the night aboard a yacht, letting said two-year old put his greasy paws on every shiny service, and supping on the equivalent of a seafood turducken. Lobster! Stuffed with a shrimp! Stuffed with a clam! I have never been so satisfied with a meal in my young seafood-loving life. Plus my kid got to play golf, just like a real yacht-owner would.

Another highlight of the trip was when my potty-trainin' toddler, who enjoys doing his business with the door closed, came out of the bathroom and shyly announced that he had accidentally fallen off the toilet and pooped on the rug. First of all, who has a rug in the bathroom? Rich folks do, that's who - weird! As for falling off the toilet, well who hasn't a couple of times?

Speaking of weird stuff, the other night at about 2 a.m. a disembodied robotic voice started shouting something from our deck. At first I though it was my husband's cell phone, but soon realized it was the Bean's toy school bus repeating "The wheels on the, the wheels on the, the wheels on the..." over and over again due to dying batteries. Thinking our neighbors might not appreciate this, I staggered out to disable the blasted thing. As I stepped out onto the deck, the bus abruptly stopped its creepy half-song and announced "I'm happy."

Us too, bus.

Posted by Max at 10:07 PM | Comments (0)