About me: I'm 40 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 8-year-old Junior, our 5-year-old Everett, our baby and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Questions to which I just don't have the answers
Mrs. Mullet: "Junior, look! It's Mrs. Butterworth. She came to our house to give you syrup for your pancakes!"
Junior (eyes bulging): "Who is she? Does she have friends? Where does she live? Is she syrup? Is that syrup? Where are her eyes?"
Mrs. Mullet: "She's like Santa, except she gives kids syrup. For their pancakes and waffles. Isn't that neat?"
Junior: "Who is her mommy? Are you her mommy? Can she talk? Why isn't she talking?"
Mrs. Mullet: "She, um, talks in syrup. It pours out of her mouth."
Junior (growing agitated): "Is it blood? Do forks hurt her? Why won't she talk to me? Does she live with us? I can't see her mouth."
Mrs. Mullet: "Sweetie, Mrs. Butterworth's mouth is right here. Listen, she's talking. Hello, Junior! May I put some of my delicious syrup on your pancakes?"
Junior (having mild panic attack): "I can't see her eyes! Why does she have two faces? Her head is sticky! Is it syrup? Is her head syrup? Am I syrup?"
Mrs. Mullet: "No, honey. Just Mrs. Butterworth and her, er, family. Eat your pancakes, okay?"
Junior: "Where are they? Do they live with us? I can't see them."
Mrs. Mullet: "Junior, she's a sweet little syrup woman. I don't know where her family is." [Bangs head on table]
Junior: "I can't see them, Mommy."
Mrs. Mullet: "I know. I know. Say goodbye to Mrs. Butterworth, okay? Goodbye, Junior!" [Puts Mrs. Butterworth in cabinet. Gets vodka bottle and takes swig]
Junior: "Is that where she lives? Is it? Is she alone?"
Mrs. Mullet: "Yes, sweetie." [Slumping to floor] Dear God, yes."