For some reason, the other day, 16-year-old-Boy decided to rummage through my purse. And when he found the little cars I keep in there for emergencies (read: meetings), he began making that car noise that only boys can make properly. I can't even type it because I am not a boy. When I was a kid, we rode around in Krazy Karts (before Big Wheels and their horrible ratchet-y sound came along). One of my friends, Cheryl, made the car sound by saying, "Naaaaaaaaa, naaaaaaaaaa, naaaaaaah," rising and falling like a transmission shifting gears. Not the same. Also, boys make excellent bullet noises. It must be on the Y-chromosome.
C and D are the tiny little cars he found. I think they are left over from when he had a million Micro Machines cars and the fucking SuperVanCity that came with four sheets of decals (FOUR! SHEETS!), which meant I was up until 3:00 a.m. Christmas Eve applying stickers so the damn thing was play-ready in the morning. I was a happy camper that day, let me tell you.
Anyway, those two, along with F are what keep me entertained at staff meetings. F is my Homie. Really. I got him out of a vending machine for fifty cents. On his back it says 'Homies, TM China.' I find myself very amusing at meetings when I hold him up in front of me and say, "Homie don't play that." Someone has to entertain me.
A is the metallic Sharpie I paid like six bucks for because I am stoopid. But it comes in handy if you need to mark something that is black. Like when the offspring and I all got new laptops ($450 each? Shit! Gimme three!), and I was able to mark mine as my territory without having to pee on it.
B is a key chain Husband got at 'Close-It-Already-Yankee-Stadium' and gave to me after I whined about it. The baseball has a real leather cover on it, actually stitched. Cool.
E is a button I found on the floor at school and nobody claimed. Not sure why I kept it, but the same could be said of 16-year-old-Boy, so there it is.
And G is a key. To something. No idea what. But you know the minute I throw the damn thing out, I'll remember that I desperately need it to shut off the self-destruct mechanism, "...five...four...three..." Uh. Oh.
*Sometimes? Who am I kidding?
