Friday, January 27, 2006

Imitation is the truest form of flattery

Yes, Monkey has reached the parrott-stage. She is trying to repeat things I say more and more, and has begun to imitate actions she sees me doing regularly. For example, in the morning we brush our teeth together- I give her her little baby toothbrush and she walks around chewing on it, then I sit her on the toilet and brush those tiny teeth before giving her a drink of water from the cup. She Imitates my dancing- which admittedly i don't do that often, but if I see her getting into the groove, I join in and she copies. A 16-month-old headbanging is hella-cute! She watches me putting on my makeup from the other side of the bathroom barrier and now puts any wet substance she comes into contact with onto her cheeks with a gentle rubbing motion.

Unfortunately, she does not discriminate when it comes to what substance she applies to her porcelain skin. Also, she does not really understand the difference between Milk, drinking water, bath water, toilet water, spaghetti sauce and peanut oil. This was particularly problematic the other day when I turned around from filling the sink with dish-water (yes, I do dishes and no, we don't have a dishwasher) to find her splashing gleefully in the sauce-pan of peanut oil my dear Hubby decided to store in the under-the-oven drawer. Now, in all fairness, he has been storing that sauce pan full of oil in there since I can remember, and it was covered with a lid, and Monkey had never found that pan before, though she had most definitely found things to play with in that drawer as of late. So, there she is, splashing in the peanut oil and delicately applying generous amonts of it to her face and hair. I began the "oh, no! Monkey! nononononono! routine and she thinks it's time to play chase... she takes off through the house dripping oil from her head and face and hands, as I chase her in a half squat with that horrified face that says "PLEASE GOD DON'T LET HER TOUCH THE COUCHES!!!!!!!!"

Luckily, I caught her before she got her hands on anything and of course she promptly got a bath featuring copious amounts of baby-shampoo. The dishes didn't get done that day and we had leftovers for dinner because I spent the next two hours cleaning oil off the pans and drawer and oven and linoleum. When Hubby arrives home from work, I fill him in on the day's excitement and he says with a giggle "See Monkey, that's why I'm always saying not to play in that under-the-oven drawer!".................................WHA?!!?!?!!!!?!!????

So instead of seeing that monkey has taken a liking to that drawer and REMOVING THE PAN OF OIL, he has been saying "No!" and maybe putting her in her penalty-box ( which, by the way HASN'T WORKED FOR ANYTHING ELSE WE WANT HER TO STAY AWAY FROM SO WHY DID HE THINK IT WOULD MAGICALLY WORK FOR THE PAN OF FUN-OIL!!!!!!!!) and now I can really fully blame him for the three or so hours of my life which were hijacked by that damn pan of oil. Men.

On the upside, I didn't have to put baby-lotion on her after that bath.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Cold Pizza and Spam

So here I am again, guilty of not posting in a while. And I know you were all (all three of you readers, that is) crying into your dinners at night, going into Funny Withdrawal because hey, I bring the Wit, right?* And the Wit was M.I.A. Just when you needed an injection. *(Actually, that's a joke; the Irreverent sis is more simultaneously funny AND irreverent than I am irreverent AND funny. I am not irreverent, I am Saltine Crackers, but she can be funny.)

Anyway, there were many/several/some scattered very good reasons that kept me away from the keyboard...none of which I can actually remember at this moment, but hey, last time I checked YOU weren't my MOM. So get over it. Ha. I guess I told you.

I don't really have much new to write about -- kids are fine, hubby's fine, Christmas has passed but we're still listening to the CDs and watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." That's just the kind of happenin' family we are. I'm just sitting here on a friday afternoon, killing time before I go meet the bus, eating cold Domino's pizza dipped in their garlic dipping sauce (does Domino's have that in the U.S.? They should, lemme tell ya) and blogging.

Cold pizza is actually my favorite way to eat pizza. I guess it reminds me of being a teenager: we'd have pizza for dinner Friday nights and I'd eat a couple of leftover slices for breakfast Saturday morning, cold. I think it tastes best cold the next day, actually. (You'll remember, last night, Thursday, was pizza night here.)

Writing about pizza reminds me of something I've been wanting to amuse you all with: the pizza peculiarities of Korea. Garlic dipping sauce aside, you think, pizza is pizza; how "peculiar" can it really get? Haha, ye novices. Kinda funky, I tell ya.

For one thing, every pizza comes with a small container of sweet pickle slices. Some chains send sweet relish instead. One is supposed to eat these along with the pizza. Yeah.

Sure they do expectable things like have a cheese crust option and toppings like pepperoni, mushroom, "Hawaiian," etc., but how about sweet potato? No, not as in sweet potato slices on top, as in a thick ring of mashed sweet potato piped just inside the crust edge. That's a really big thing here. There's steak and broccoli, too (with sour cream), which I can't imagine on a pizza. Of course there's also the obligatory bulgogi pizza. I guess we should just be glad they don't offer kimchi pizza anymore (but there was a time).

But the funniest thing by far about ordering a Domino's pizza here is the delivery box. Witness: (those are the containers of sweet pickles) See the motto thing? It's some kind of picture of a swiss chalet-lookin' place and it says "Enjoy Cheese! Enjoy Domino's!" Whaaaa? I laughed so hard the first time I saw this -- it's as if cheese = Domino's pizza! As if no OTHER pizza chain offers cheese. In my mind, there can be no way Domino's HQ in the U.S. knows about this. It just about belongs on The Irreverent One's favorite site,

(In other news, I just figured out how to upload an image onto this blog! Woohoo! Dire events may soon follow.)

So, I'm off to call hubby and see if he's not getting home early today. This Sunday is Lunar New Year, which is Asia's equivalent of Christmas in the U.S. (even in largely Christian countries like South Korea) because this is when they do all the gift shopping, make the pilgrimage to the in-laws' house and make the gigantic holiday belt-loosener of a meal. Except that here, an acceptable Lunar New Year's gift for your aunty might be a luxurious Spam gift set. I'm serious. How much easier would Christmas shopping be in the U.S. if we could give Spam, or several bottles of canola oil, or a prepackaged set of housecleaning products?

Sweet pickles aside, there is much to learn from Asia, young grasshopper.