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Showing posts from March, 2012

Social Grooming

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I’ve started to wonder if those gatherings of monkeys we see on nature shows who patiently, yet methodically, comb through each other’s hair in order to find an eatable bug, first started out as grey hair hunting parties.  While searching for my own grey hair this evening, and plucking them out with excited triumph, I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if I had friends willing to help out?  O.k. the more I think about it, ya, kind of weird.  But if you didn’t think about it too hard, it would be very convenient.  I always half-jokingly ask my hairdresser to pluck any she sees but I don’t think she thinks I’m serious, or maybe she’s just got bad vision and can’t see them; in which case, I probably shouldn’t trust her with scissors near my head.“Did you find one?  Pluck it!  NOW!”

“The Trouble with Tribbles”

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Why is it that messes in my house multiply like Tribbles?Honestly, I put one thing away, turn around for a second and it’s reappeared only to have a mate or two with it.  They not only keep multiplying but they seem to be following the lead of my children.   In fact, I think if there were such a thing as a Tribble flock, my kids would be its shepherd.  At first I thought this was just the way things were when you had 5 kids, especially when they came in pairs.  The other day, I realized the messes were in fact planned and part of some grand scheme that I have not yet come to understand.  I decided to be brave the other day, in the presence of my kids, and began vacuuming the floor.  For some reason, Miriam was against the plan and as an act of protest, kept sitting in the vacuum’s path and squealing at the top of her lungs.  They call this a sit down strike.  If there had been a tree in my living room, I’m sure she’d have hugged it.I must call in the Tribble patrol if I’m to get the h…