Poop coffee

After yesterday's post, my teenaged son tried to convince me that there are actually people who eat animal poop as a delicacy, but I totally didn't believe him. Just out of curiosity I asked my best friend, who is scary smart... I can ask him just about anything, and he usually knows the answer or knows where to find it. He told me about this rare coffee where the beans are pooped out of a little animal. I googled it, and it's totally true. Check this out: http://coffeetea.about.com/cs/kindsofcoffee/a/aakopiluwak.htm
http://animalcoffee.com/

Wow. I really don't think I would pay $160/lb for coffee beans that went through the digestive system of a little cat. But if someone offered me a cup I'd probably take a sip just for the hell of it.

King Friday XIII, Detrol Spokesperson/ Disturbing things about PBS Kids

I was watching Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood today with one of my kids, and I suddenly remembered an episode that was totally weird.

It was in the Neighborhood of Makebelieve, and King Friday XIII was supposed to be looking at some royal paintings or something. All of a sudden he goes, "I'll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom," and he leaves. So the other characters stand around and make small talk for a minute until he comes back to finish looking at the paintings. It was really random, and it totally caught me off guard. And remember how Mr. Rogers used to go to factories and see how things were made? Well, I kid you not, in this same episode he went to a factory that made toilets.

This was not a faded memory from my childhood, either... this was less than a decade ago. I totally remember it because it made me laugh my ass off.

Another disturbing PBS fact: I totally remember that, when I was a kid watching Sesame Street, Big Bird had a butthole. He'd bend over to straighten his nest or pick something up, and there it was under his tail. It always kinda grossed me out. I mean, he was a frickin' puppet... why did he need a butthole??? Then one day in the 80's when I was home sick from school and watching Sesame Street, I realized that he didn't have it anymore. Maybe parents complained or something, I don't know.

Something else about PBS Kids that I don't get: why they indulge the Kratt brothers on Zoboomafoo. These guys are creepy. They have this fascination with poop. This one time they were talking about different ways animals in the rainforest help plants grow. They're putting seeds into these holes in the ground, and suddenly, in close-up of course, a huge crap drops into one of the holes. They look up, and this puppet monkey goes, "Oh, sorry, that was me." Then they go into this whole explanation of how animal crap helps spread seeds and fertilize them. It was hilarious and disturbing all at once. That's not all, though: these two freaks have stepped in poop, fallen in it face first, sniffed it, and just about everything but eaten it... but I wouldn't be surprised if that happens in tomorrow's episode. I hate those frickin' Kratt Brothers so much.

I'm glad my youngest kid has almost totally outgrown PBS Kids... I'm not sure how much more my sensibilities can take.

Weekend Getaway

Yesterday I got back from my own little three-night retreat.

I was originally going to go to a hermitage in St Francis for a few days of silence and solitude, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that this city girl could not conceivably spend three nights without electricity or running water. I went there for 24 hours last year, and I was afraid to go to the biffy all night because it was really, really dark outside and I saw a garter snake hangin' out by the steps. Go ahead and laugh.

Anyhow, I found out that, for the same price, I could go to a hotel with electricity, running water, a pool, cable, and free continental breakfast. So I booked it, and off I went with my hubby's blessing. Lemme tell ya, mentally I was already looooooong gone.

So the weekend was good and bad. Good because the only person I had to worry about for three days was ME. No schedules, no responsibilities, no distractions. I laid around in my jammies all day reading a couple good novels, surfed the Net without my teenagers hanging over my shoulder, slept as late as I wanted, took long, hot bubble baths without people walking in to pee, got to control the remote, and could hear myself think for a change. I only left my room to eat or to soak in the hot tub. It was so nice.

The bad part is that I realized that I am my own worst enemy. There's nothing like spending several days immersed in your own thought processes with no distractions to make you realize some disconcerting and difficult truths about who you really are. Saturday in particular was emotionally grueling as I forced myself to be honest about some things I would rather gloss over. Luckily, I have a dear friend who was willing to give me a reality check and keep me from totally punishing myself.

So now it's back to real life with some new perspective and at least a vague idea of the direction I need to go in order to be happy. Things are about to get interesting.

No more toads

Well, I convinced my little boy to let the toads go last Friday.

He only had them for a day, but he and his little sister kept fighting over who got to look at them, who got to sit closest to the cage, etc. And lately when they fight they start beating the crap out of each other. Not cool. Plus, a friend of mine told me that the toads would die if I let my kid keep them for much longer, and that made me feel like crap. I totally do not want any animal deaths on my conscience.

So my son said a tearful goodbye to the toads, which made me feel even crappier. So crappy that I told him I'd buy him a frickin' tadpole and let him grow it into a frog that he could keep. Of course, tadpoles are out of season... he won't be able to get one until the end of September.

That means I have a couple months to overcome my hatred of everything creepy crawly, because apparently I've committed to the whole tadpole/frog thing for the long haul. What the hell have I done???

HOLY CRAP.

So, for some reason I am watching Maury on tv, and there's this mom crying over her 68 lb, 2 year old kid. Holy frickin' crap. The poor baby wears a girls' size 9, and her boobs are bigger than mine. She can hardly walk. She's stopped breathing in her sleep three times because she's so overweight. SHE IS STILL A FRICKIN' BABY.

This mom is tearfully explaining her kid's diet: three eggs, waffles and sausages for breakfast, a few hotdogs and a pizza for lunch, and like half a fried chicken, a box of mac and cheese, and a bunch of veggies for dinner. Yeah... kudos on getting the veggies in there, mom.

Who the hell is in charge here??? The kid is frickin' TWO. If you want your kid to be healthy, stop feeding her like she's a trucker. "But, if I don't give her what she wants, she throws a tantrum..." WHATEVER. At least she's getting a little exercise then. Quit your damn whining and take charge, idiot.

The kicker is that this poor excuse for a parent parades her kid out on stage in a two-piece outfit with her gut hanging over the waistband, and makes her do a little Truffle Shuffle to the Maury theme music. Can we say EXPLOITATION???

Maury Povich... what a frickin' pig. Way to have a show that encourages people like this stupid woman to bring their poor kids on there like sideshow freaks in the first place.

Of course I suppose that, instead of letting this crap get my undies in a bunch, I could just shut it off. Besides, I think there are two toothless bisexual hillbilly cousins fighting over who gets to shack up with their grandpa on Jerry Springer... where's my frickin' remote?

Kingdom of the Toads

Okay, right now, this second, I am officially the coolest mom on earth. Of course that may change five minutes from now, but for right this minute, I'll take it.

My 8 year old son found a few toads in one of the window wells this morning, so I told him I'd let him keep them for a couple days. We went out and got a house for them and some really, really gross crickets for them to eat.

In case you haven't figured this out, I am a complete girly-girl. I hate bugs, reptiles, rodents, snakes, and any other creepy crawlies. So the whole toad thing is a huge stretch for me.

When my son brought one in the house to show it to me the thing almost got away, and he ended up hanging onto it by one leg. Yeah... much to my own shame, I ended up screaming and nearly climbing over the back of the couch. I shooed him back outside, but then another one of those horrid little things started climbing out of the bucket on the back step and almost touched my foot... again with the screaming.

So how I ended up allowing those gross little buggers to spend a few days in a container in my living room is beyond me... and how I managed to find myself at the pet store holding a bag full of live crickets... I still feel totally creeped out, and probably will until the toads are back in the window well where they belong.

But if you could've seen the look in my little boy's eyes today... my temporary hero status is well worth a little case of the creeps.