Quirk & Logic Posts

I am blessed with two children who (heaven help them) seem to think a lot like me.  That is to say, they work to find the logic in life.  In the absence of logic that suits their needs, they invent their own.  Admittedly, most of these come from the 6 year old Owen, but he started blessing us with these little nuggets around age 3.

Just this week, out of the blue, he commented ‘When I get married, I’m going to pick a girl who likes kids.  Cause if she doesn’t, she’ll probably be a terrible mother.’

Hmmmm, while true, I am curious how much time he has spent considering that eventuality.

This is the same child who, since age 3, has decided he will be a paleontologist.  He has actually asked questions about schooling requirements, and has resigned himself to lots and lots of education.  He plans to work in a bakery in college to earn money (and eat ice cream for breakfast, because his dad told him Orange Leaf opens at 11:00 am for college students).  He knows he should study rock climbing, and feels the best vehicle for him will be a Ford Raptor off-road truck.  That’s why he has to work in a bakery – they are expensive.   And why does he want to be a paleontologist?  Well, he loves dinosaurs for one thing, and has for years.  This is the reason I know so much about dinosaurs.  How much you say?  A. Lot.  That’s a post for another day.  A few months ago he amended that plan to say he wanted to be a paleontologist because of the teamwork, and because of ‘no paperwork.’  Why does my 6 year old know what paperwork is, and why does he know it is not a good thing???  My husband and I don’t talk much about work at home.  Well, at least he has a life plan.

His back-up plan is to be a meteorologist.  He loves weather.  He doesn’t understand that other’s don’t always love weather.  When he was 5 and his sister 2, a storm was cooking up, and the wind really started to blow.  Lucy got a little upset and his response was, in his best comforting big-brother voice, ‘Don’t worry Lucy its just wind.  It just knocks down buildings and makes tornados and stuff.’  Very helpful.

I do keep a record of these bits of wisdom, of course.  I was just looking back over them, and found one from the middle of kindergarten, 6 months or so ago.  I had picked Owen up from school, and was asking him how his day was.  They had been playing in the gym in the after-school program, so I asked him what his favorite thing to play was.  His answer? ‘I need suction cups.’  Me: ‘Um, why?’ Owen: ‘I need 4 suction cups so I can climb the walls when we play tag.  Then I can hang from the ceiling and laugh.’

My record stops there, probably because there really is no good response to that.  The root of the problem is that he was a kindergartener, so one of the smallest kids.  Also one of the slowest, so he gets tagged easily.  Instead of asking how to run faster (hint: the answer is to stop worrying about how awesome you look running), this was his solution.

Let’s go back to age 4.  Driving in the car, running errands one morning.  This happened:

Owen: ‘Mom-I need to go poop!’ Me: ‘We’re almost home buddy.’ Owen: ‘Ok, I’ll lock my butt up so he poop doesn’t get out.’. (5 minutes later) Owen: ‘Mom! The poops going to come out!’ Daddy: ‘You said you locked your butt!’ Owen: ‘The poop has the key! It took the key out of my hand!’

Yep.

On another day, another time, I will share some of the nuggets his little sister has begun dropping about.  Not the least of which include some of the things she has told God she’s thankful for during prayer time.  Like the holes in mommy’s sweatshirt.

Until next time y’all.  I should be getting a report from Carl and Raylene anytime!

Kim

Child Logic Quirky Thoughts

I have thought long and hard about this, and I think I have uncovered the most effective marketing strategy ever.

I am pretty sure that even fancy marketing people have nothing on this – it is truly just the best idea ever.

Do you know what it is?

I bet you can’t guess.

Its so simple, so effective, its almost diabolical.

Its. . . . . . . Kindergarteners.

More specifically Kindergarten teachers, but eventually the kindergarteners themselves.

Why yes, I will explain!  You see, I recently had a child complete kindergarten, so this comes from that experience.  I can’t really speak for kids in other grades, its possible this model could be more widely used.  However, because I have only had a kindergartener up to this point, I am going with that.

There were a number of things that came up this year, and despite my ambivalence or outright dislike of some of the things that came up – we knew about each event, fundraiser, ‘special restaurant night,’ purchase opportunity, and other school related sundries.  Not because of colorful fliers (which sometimes made their way to the ‘get rid of when the kids aren’t looking’ pile without a lot of attention), but because my kindergartener was certainly aware of each one and made it his personal mission to remind us.  I assume much of this information was passed along through his very wonderful kindergarten teacher (no sarcasm here – she was absolutely terrific).  Now, a lot of this I can understand.  If the school is having a fundraiser night at, oh let’s say Chuck E Cheese, of COURSE my kid is going to want to go.  He has an ulterior motive, unrelated to his school spirit and his desire to assist his school with getting a new floor for the gymnasium.  He loves that horrible, horrible place.

So, it goes something like this.  My husband and I get the colorful flier and find out that a certain date is my child’s elementary schools special fundraiser day at Chuck E Cheese.  We quickly look at one another and say ‘no way, rather write them a check.’  And into the pile.  Great!  Problem solved.

Problem not solved, because a certain Kindergartener will bring up the subject each and every night until the night in question.  And we will attempt to delay with ‘we’ll see’ or ‘we’ll decide later’ (parents you will recognize this as ‘absolutely no way in heck that’s going to happen, but I will procrastinate this decision in case you get into big trouble and losing this opportunity can be spun into an important learning moment.’)  Every day.  Multiple times.  With great excitement.  Enthusiasm.  School spirit.  And big happy cow eyes.

So, we end up at Chuck E Cheese, my husband and I staring at one another and trying to figure out how this happened.

Repeat as needed 14 times throughout the school year.

You may ask yourself, how does this relate to marketing?  Well, quite simply, kindergarteners have the innate ability to zero in on our weaknesses, and exploit them through a combination of unwavering tenacity and cuteness.  Want to get a political candidate into office?  Get the kindergarten teachers on your side.  BAM!  You’ve got them bringing home their subliminally implanted lessons to propagandize the parents.

Want to sell a new product?  Convince the kindergarten teachers its awesome (this will take some doing – they are intelligent people – but let’s assume your product warrants approval).  ZOOM!  Kids wear down parents with relentless marketing until we wake up one day, and without realizing it, think out how amazing that product is indeed.

Do I intend to use this?  Absolutely.  You see, if no publishing company sees the brilliance of the children’s books I am trying to get them to buy/publish/print, I will go the self-publishing route.  And then I will do a reading at every kindergarten in the metro area.  I will pass out business cards.  And I will be ready.  In 10-15 days (depending on the self-control of the parents involved) the orders should come rolling in.

BWAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!

Of course, in this case, its absolutely the right thing to do.

 

 

Quirky Thoughts

Hello to all my readers! (reader?)

I am very excited to announce a new segment here on Quirk and Logic!  I have been tirelessly interviewing potential contributors for a travel category.  I have found a couple that I just know you will love.  They will be traveling the country, reporting in periodically on what they find!

They were really the perfect candidates as they were already traveling the country, and had an extensive lists of sites to see.

I would like to introduce you to Carl and Raylene Schputt.

Here’s a little background on Carl and Raylene.

Carl and Raylene hail from Nose Lick, Texas, and have been married ‘since Carl had hair.’  They own and operate ‘Nose Lick Picks,’ a roadside shop that specializes in Decorative Hubcaps and Commemorative Spoons.  As a matter of fact, they are hoping to acquire some new merchandise for the shop on their trip around the country.

Raylene wears her very blonde hair styled ‘just so’ every day.  When the wind blows she looks a little bit like the ‘Flying Nun’ except with more sequins and lipstick.  She does ‘declare’ a lot, and dotes on her pet pig Bacon Bits.  Raylene declares that her somewhat curvyish, somewhat fluffyish figure is a result of ‘loving life and sticky buns a bit too much.’  She is, in fact, a hoot.  Perhaps a hoot and a half.  Definitely one of a kind (I hope).

Carl is a patient, much quieter soul.  He’s never too far from a YooHoo, and has an extensive collection of belt buckles – some shaped like Hubcaps!  I’ll be honest, I don’t have much of a read on Carl yet – mostly because Raylene rarely stops talking, and the poor man never has a chance to speak.  He seems happy enough though.

Then there’s Betty Jane.  That’s the truck.  Complete with Skamper – because ‘what fun is it to see the country if you’re always inside a Super 8!’  Its pink.  The truck, not the Skamper.  Bright pink.  Its. . . . . interesting.  There’s also quite a collection of tokens hanging from the rear-view mirror.  Raylene claims they are Betty Jane’s good luck charms.  I smiled when she said it, but I’ll be honest – I’m not entirely sure she doesn’t really believe the truck has a mind of its own.  Time will tell.

For the most part when Carl and Raylene check in, I’ll let them share their travels in their own words.  I’ll try to only add information when I’m relatively certain no one knows what they are talking about (from some of our early conversations, this may be frequently).

So – So long for now!  Happy Travels Carl and Raylene!

Carl and Raylene's Travelogue

The subject recently came up, ‘what would be the best last name to have.’

Here’s the deal – you can use any logic you like!  Would you choose the last name of a famous person and go for the ‘I’m totally related to them,’ angle?  A notable scholar?  A famous person from history?

All very solid choices – and I applaud you.

That is not where my conversation with Matt (my husband) went.  Now, I knew it would have to be a name that could be spelled, because between my maiden name and my married name, I have been spelling my last name 147 times a month since I learned to spell.  And despite spelling it to everyone who will listen, people still constantly spell it wrong.  So, in addition to all other requirements, I do insist that my ‘Best Last Name Ever’ be spelled phonetically.  All that aside, the whole equation changed  while back.

You see, several months ago, I ran across the last name of someone I do not know (and cannot remember where I saw their last name), but it was so awesome, I have thought about it since.  And that name was ‘Fightmaster.’  Oh yes.  Its just SO COOL.  I think, though, if your name is Fightmaster, there’s probably some kind of obligation to get your kids martial arts lessons.  Likely for their own good, cause everyone would want to take down the Fightmaster.

I would not have changed my name when I got married if my last name was Fightmaster.  In fact, I think I would have insisted that Matt change his name.  He actually agreed with that.  So, if the time ever comes that I have to change my identity to escape my enormous fame and fortune as a writer (yes please), I’m going for Fightmaster.

I thought that was it.  Problem solved!  But no.  Matt and I. . . . we . . . . I don’t even know how to say it.  We DISAGREE.  GAH!   You see, Matt contends that he best last name to have ever is ‘Asaurus.’  Think about that for a minute.  Add your own first name.  Would it be Dave Asaurus?  Wendy Asaurus?  Heinrich Asaurus.  Well, poo, I think he might actually be on to something.  Endless giggling opportunity.  I should probably point out we have been deep in dinosaur country for the past 4 years (nothings cuter than hearing a 3 year old say ‘I’m going to be a paleongologist.’ – Yes, I know that’s not correct, but he was three, cut him some slack.)  The only thing that could even possibly make it better would be if you happened to marry someone who’s last name was Rex, and you decided to hyphenate.  Kim Asaurus-Rex.  Dang, I concede.  That would, indeed be the coolest last name ever.

Do you have a better one?  Speak up!  I dare you.

Kim Asaurus-Rex (in my mind)

Quirky Thoughts

I can hear you saying ‘ewwwwww’ you know.  Its not what you think.  Ok, its partly what you think, but not entirely what you think.

I will not be discussing grody toenails or fungus infested toenails, or my dad’s weird toenail that he ran over with the lawnmower one time and now seems to be made of concrete.

Well, except for that sentence – I did discuss those things in the sentence above where I said I wouldn’t.  But I’m done now.

Ladies – I am going to just fess up and admit I don’t get pedicures.  I mean I don’t get them (I’ve never had one), and I don’t ‘get’ them.  If it makes you happy to get one – please know I completely support you and wish you all the foot-related happiness in the world.  Just please don’t invite me because the idea of it completely gives me the heeby-jeebies.

Now, part of this is the fact that I consider toenails along the same line as my lawn.  No fuss, no muss, just a regular trim from time to time and you’re good to go.  I really don’t want a professional to every gaze at my toes and then look at me with ‘that look.’  I assume they have ‘that look.’  I don’t really know, but I have a good imagination, and in my imagination they do.

It is summer now, and while I absolutely flaunt the toes in sandals and flip flops from the time the frost leaves until the time it returns, y’all are just going to have to deal with boring, naked feet (unless you never ever look at anyone’s feet because you are secretly terrified of feet because one time you dreamed you were an ant and that mean kid from next door was coming ever closer to your precious anthill and . . . . . . oh, not that, ok).  I see what appears to be every other woman in existence showing off perfectly polished painted piggies (Yay Alliteration!).  Sometimes extremely elaborate paintjobs too.  Once again – if this is you, I promise not to judge you if you don’t judge me.  Let’s just agree to disagree on the painted toenail front. I support your right to groom your feet however you choose.  Question – how do you choose the color?  What if you get a pedicure and it doesn’t match your outfit the next day (or really 6 days out of 7)?  Is that just cool?  I don’t know the toenail color etiquette, so forgive my ignorance.  Or – do you just plan all your outfits around the color of your toenails for the duration it is there?  This is why I can’t do it – this is *actually* how my mind works, and I would be stuck in an endless cycle day in and day out when trying to pick out my clothes.

Recently I heard about fish pedicures where you stick your feet in the water and fish eat the dead skin.  Seriously?  No way my feet are going anywhere near a tray of water wherein dwell carnivorous fish of undisclosed hunger. Besides, I assume others have also stuck their feet in that same pan of water (I also assume it is not possible to sanitize fish).  That’s just more than my mind is able to wrap around.

On another toenail related, but not pedicure related, note: why do my husband’s toenails appear to be made out of titanium?  The man has broken toenail clippers.  Sometimes when they are freshly cut, his foot bumps mine in the bed, and I have to make sure I’m not bleeding.  Maybe we should start growing them out, and he can get into the Guiness Book of World Records!  Because of all the things that are kind of gross about toenails, the fact that there are groups of people competing to have the longest (for years at a time), might just take the cake!

I apologize for inadvertently linking cake to toenails.  I hope it does not ruin cake for you.

Enjoy your personal toe-expression this summer!

Quirky Thoughts

From time to time, you will find posts relating to some logical issues I have found in movies, books, tv, and other popular culture.

Today, I need to talk about Frozen, because this has been bothering me for a very long time.

Let me be clear. I LOVE Frozen.  Its probably one of the top 10 movies EVER for me.  Its fabulous and yes, we totally rock out to the soundtrack at home.

Here is the basis for my concern.

The premise of the movie has us believe that Anna has been stuck in a castle for about 13 years, bored out of her mind.  Ok, sure.  However, after Elsa’s ice magic is revealed (uh, spoiler alert, I guess), the first thing Anna does is send for her horse.  The one she is absolutely capable of riding up a mountain.  Her horse – as opposed to ‘a horse’ – the one specifically assigned to her.  Ok.  Call me crazy, but if they reduced their castle staff to around 6 people, I’m guessing one of them is not devoted to picking up horse apples in the great hall.  That girl has been outside.  I guess you could argue that there’s a courtyard or some other inclusive area where she exhaustively practiced horseback-riding on fake snow-covered mountain-simulations.  It is possible.  However, I would like to argue here that Anna HAS been out of the castle, probably on ‘tours of the kingdom’ with her parents.  She probably didn’t get to interact too much with others or she would probably not be so desperate to do so.  After all, I interact with people constantly, and my dearest wish is to be ALONE.

Anyways, my point is – she’s been outside the castle riding her horse.  Probably doing something boring, but still.

 

Second issue, also relating with the sending for the horse.  Arendelle must have the most efficient grooms in the history of everything.  Anna says ‘bring me my horse.’  She walks about 10 steps, and LO!  There is the horse.  Saddled, waiting, and someone has fetched her cloak as well.  Ok, I am not really a horse person, but my understanding is that saddling a horse requires the horse to be brushed, then comes the saddle blanket, then the saddle, all the girths and buckles need to be checked and re-checked, and the stirrups adjusted.  If the horse is -ahem- stubborn, you may also need to knee them in the gut to make them exhale the breath they are holding to make the girth too loose.  Then comes the bridle, checking the hooves – OH! and it was summer 10 seconds ago, so you know that horse isn’t wearing ice shoes.  I smell a plot hole.  Still, in my efforts to find some kind of logic in this (hey, its one of my favorite movies, I’m going to give it the benefit of the doubt before I call shenanigans).

1. The grooms in the palace in Arendelle are as bored out of their mind as Anna.  After all, there are very few staff and their rulers are hermits.  Not a ton to do.  So, they have invented their own version of either the Olympics, or an elaborate drinking game (same thing, right?).

2. The first groom, let’s call him Larry.  He times Gunter (the other groom) to see how fast they can do all the above steps, and get the horse to the courtyard.  Gunter then times Larry doing the same.  This continues day by day, continually trying to better their time.  And to see how much they can confuse the horses.  Also, you can see how this devolves into a drinking game pretty quickly.

3. This gets boring, so they start inventing new twists to their little game.  Like who can invent the underground elevator to get the horse there the fastest.  Who can create the most ridiculous hair-do for the horse – you see where I’m going with this.  Seriously – what’s with that horse’s hair. . . . I’m off topic.

4. Where does the cloak come from?  Ok, you got me here.  I am going to assume old butler dude just always carries a lady’s cloak with him at all times (even though it was summer 10 seconds ago), because that’s just kind of his thing.  Works for me.

 

So that’s that.  Its the most logic I can come up with to explain the unexplainable.

 

Until next time!

Movie Logic

Ok, so this is my very first blog post. I’m a little nervous. I mean, this is the foundation of my entire blog, and potentially the beginning of a writing career.

Serious stuff.

I mean, someday I may need to reference this in the dedication of an actual published book. So, of course, I needed to write about something very thoughtful, serious, and full of impact.

Today, I am writing about underpants.

I am the proud mommy of a 6 1/2 year old boy and a 3 1/2 year old girl (if you have kids or know kids, you know the 1/2 is really important). As it turns out, underpants factor into our conversations pretty frequently! My son Owen, for example, appears to have underpant amnesia. It is a chronic, yet treatable condition where the individual routinely ‘forgets’ to wear underwear. I actually discovered this situation on laundry day a couple months ago. Being a creature of habit, I do laundry the same time every week. Since Owen showers 4-5 times a week (it wasn’t summer yet), and changes undies after his shower, as well as each morning, I expect to find around 11-12 pairs in his laundry. On this very special occasion, I found 2, which is less than 12 (I am good at math). That’s a whole lot of commando going on. He was pretty cool about it. He just let me know he ‘forgot’ and went about his business. There’s a pretty simple solution. It involves either Mom or Dad asking the child whether or not he is, in fact, ‘fully dressed’ after each and every change of clothes from now until the end of time.
But, you might say, surely its easier with your daughter. After all, her fabulous undies are covered with the most desired Disney characters available. Fairies, princesses, and Doc McStuffins abound in her underwear drawer (and no, we never, ever call them panties because for some reason it weirds my husband and I out). Today, she decided to wear a dress. Once Lucy decides something, that thing typically happens. We had a lengthy discussion about KEEP YOUR DRESS DOWN! Today after dinner, she came and stood in front of me and said ‘I took my undies off. Because . . . . because I didn’t want to wear them anymore.’ Oh. Well, ok then. I suppose I’m just grateful they don’t just run naked through the house – as that still happens from time to time.

I would here like to point out that both my husband and I are avid underpants wearers. Seriously, I promise.

Tomorrow I promise not to talk about underpants.

Quirky Thoughts