7 Quick Takes (Volume 182)

1) Drama Queen has this way of sizing up people and deciding what animal they look like. The other night at dinner she was saying someone looked like a cross between a hippo and a bug and that another guy looked like a bull with an ant head.

Me: Where do you come up with these things?

Drama Queen: That's just what they look like. Dad is a koala bear. We all know it.

Me: What did you say I am again?

Drama Queen: A meerkat.

Everyone else laughed, but I was not amused.

Me: Now how do you figure that?

Drama Queen: You're kind of twitchy like a meerkat. Your eyes dart around from person to person. You have a meerkat kind of nose and a skinny neck. When you get excited about something you talk in a really fast high pitched voice. You're a meerkat.

Me: What?! I am not twitchy!

I looked at my darling husband for support.

Me (to Kevin): Am I twitchy?

All he could do was laugh. Traitor.

I'll give her the darting eyes and skinny neck and maybe the meerkat nose (maybe), and yes, I do talk a little fast when excited, but twitchy I cannot accept. Boo on you, Drama Queen.

2) Miss Innocent One experienced major stress with her band concert this week. She was to play a solo in one of the jazz band pieces and last Friday her saxophone quit working. Her instructor said he'd get her another one to use since hers would not be fixed in time for the concert, but she couldn't practice her solo all weekend like she wanted to. She didn't have band on Monday and wasn't able to get a horn until Tuesday, the day of the concert. She brought it home, hoping to practice on it a little only to discover she couldn't find her music! She really wanted to run through it because the borrowed horn had a few idiosyncrasies her sax doesn't and she wanted to make sure she compensated for them. No music, a borrowed sax and then to top matters off, the skirt she hoped to borrow from her sister was too big. So then there was a clothing issue! Any of you with a 13-year-old daughter understand the crisis that ensued. To top it all off, once she figured out what to wear, she cut herself shaving. It just wasn't her night. The poor girl kept pushing herself along through tears. Despite all the odds, she looked good and her solo sounded great. Nice job, babe!

I'm a terrible picture taker (I blame it on my cheap camera. It can't be user error, can it?), but if you look closely, you can see her flashing me a whatever-I'm-glad-that's-over look after the jazz band performance (she's the only girl playing saxophone). Is it any wonder she had a headache by the time it was all over?

No worries, babe. You did it. And did it well. I'm proud of you for pushing through and giving it your best. We thought you sounded good.

3) Since he's finished his P90X routine, Kevin's been looking for alternative programs to follow, something that isn't quite as strenuous or time consuming, but helps him maintain what he's worked so hard to get. He downloaded an app that gives you short 15-20 minute routines you can group together yourself to make your own workouts. We tried a couple the other day and found them to be pretty good, good enough to get the sweat rolling, but the free app is a computer telling you what to do. Imagine the most deadpan robot voice you can think of and see how these would motivate you.

"Good job."
"Remember to breathe deeply."
"You are doing fantastic."
"Lay on your back and chill out."

I don't know about you, but hearing robot lady at 6:30 in the morning didn't really do it for me. She lacked any kind of Tony Horton charm. Not that she didn't try. At one point she did say (again, think computer generated monotone), "Bring it." I never thought I'd say it, but we miss you, Tony!

4) We have this bad habit at our house of teasing each other about our strange physical flaws. Drama Queen always gets it about her freakishly small ears and ugly toes. Drummer Boy gets teased about how hairy he is (Now that I think about it, I believe Drama Queen's animal name for him is Sasquatch.). Kevin consistently hears about his lack of an upper lip along with his freakishly small ears as well (wonder where she gets it). Miss Innocent One's thumbs do not look remotely the same. One of her thumbnails is very short and stubby and the other is quite a bit longer. They look like they come from two different people. One of the kids calls them toe thumbs because they look more like toes than thumbs. Of course Ladies Man is constantly teased about his size, but Drama Queen and Drummer Boy like to bug him about his "lady hands" too. I'd swap him if I could because they get on me about my "old lady hands."

I guess the good thing about it is we're all included and we've all accepted the truth about our flaws and can laugh about them. Somehow the laughing provides a perverse form of bonding. Is that bad?

5) We have a ceramic bowl one of our kids made in pottery class sitting on the edge of our kitchen counter. We've gotten in the habit of dropping our keys in it whenever we come in the back door. It gave me a practical use for yet another pottery project (how many different sized bowls can a family use?), and the upside is we always know where to find our keys. The other day Ladies Man put his keys in the bowl, heard the familiar plunk of metal against ceramic and said, "Ah, the sound of home. When I go to college, that will be the sound that tells me I'm home again."

I couldn't help but smile. For me, the sound of home is rain falling on a tin roof outside the back door or train whistles blowing in the middle of the night. Cows mooing and locusts humming take me back to childhood immediately. There's aromas too. But I wouldn't dream of asking Ladies Man what smells like home. It's hard telling what he'd say!

6) Happy Birthday to Drummer Boy who turns 22 on Saturday. How did my baby with the funny ears (hey, there's another one I forgot) grow into a man so quickly?

I was teaching the year he was born and lucky for me, had a student teacher my second semester. I got to spend every afternoon with my feet up in the teacher's lounge, preparing finals for when I'd be gone on maternity leave. He arrived a few days early on my principal's birthday, one of our good friend's birthdays and the birthday of Kevin's deceased grandfather. He was the first Boesiger to carry on the family name and being born on the same day as his great-grandfather was a thrill for Kevin's grandmother.

I'll never forget the response we got from Kevin's mother when we called to tell them the good news. She knew we had chosen an unusual name for him (Keygan) and immediately asked, "And what did you name him?" When Kevin responded with her biggest fear she said, "Well, we'll love him anyway."

Now of course, she can't think of him as anything else. To her defense I remember dreading it when people would ask what my baby's name was. It undoubtedly led to "What?" and me doing my best to get them to understand. But I've never regretted choosing it and he's always liked it. When he writes it on a piece of music, it definitely stands out.

Happy Birthday, Keygan! We love you!

7) We've got a full weekend with a bridal shower, graduation party and celebrating Drummer Boy's birthday on Saturday. Sunday brings our regular activities and rehearsals along with a band banquet for Ladies Man. Why is the end of a school year such a marathon? I think school administrators ought to be passing out protein bars or energy drinks at every event. The teachers should get a double dose. No wonder they get the summers off. They put in 150 hours a week the last month of school!

And that's all I got this fine Friday. Hope your weekend is good. Find more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.