Attitude...It's What's For Dinner

As the old saying goes, “Mothers of teenagers know why some species eat their young.”

Steele: All we have to do is walk by the Starbucks counter and they start making your drink before you even order it!  That’s pretty bad.  You should probably consider getting help for your caffeine addiction. Oooooo banana bread, can I have one of those?

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Me: What are all those stains on your white hoodie?

Steele: DARN those hot Cheetos!

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Me: (getting ready for a business party) How does this look?

Steele: Well, you kinda have a little muffin top goin’ on.
Me: Yeah I need to change to a looser top.
Steele: Or you could do some crunches.

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Steele: (around 8pm) Oh yeah, I need a poster board for an in-class assignment tomorrow.

Me: Why am I just hearing about it now?!  You really need to let me know these things ahead of time.
Steele: But then we wouldn’t get to enjoy the element of surprise.

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Steele: Uh oh.  That awkward moment when mom realizes she’s just like maw maw.

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Me: (belting out a tune at the top of my lungs) It’s time to tryyyyy defyyyyying graaavity, I think I’ll tryyyy, defyyyyiiing graaavity, and you can’t pull me doooown

Steele: Maybe you should stick to singing songs more in your range


Remember back when they were babies and you would say things like, "Oh...he's just so cute and adorable!  I could just eat him up!"  Well, same concept...different context and tone.  Welcome to the teenage years.

An Easy Mystery to Unravel

I don’t know HOW many times I’ve told Steele, “We have a new puppy in the house. Please remember that while he is being trained, we need to take extra precautions and not provide opportunity for him to create mischief.”

“I KNOW, Mom, I know.” This is usually the reply I get, accompanied by an ever-so-obvious-eye roll. “It’s not just a matter of KNOWING…you have to FOLLOW THROUGH.”

I rarely chastise him about his hurricane aftermath inspired choice of bedroom and bathroom décor. Nor do I nag him on a daily basis about tidying up his bathroom. ALL I ASK is that he make it a point to CLOSE THE DOORS to those rooms before leaving the house, ensuring that Benny "the Jet" does not have access to the temptation that exists within them. Simple, right? So why do I come home on my lunch break to find THIS?!

The older dog, Maggie, just sits there on her perch, with that clueless look on her face. I know she egged him on. She likes to see him get in trouble. And he provides ample opportunity to oblige her, believe me.  He has also discovered that people think he's adorable when he carries around stuffed toys in his mouth.  His get-out-of-jail-free-cuteness-toy-of-choice for this incident was his dinosaur.  Well played again Benny, well played.

The Honeymoon Is OVER!

Okay, so a few posts back I introduced that adorable little fur ball of fun, Benny. Everything about this new member of our family is charming...irresistably darling. We have forgiven him for chewing on our toes, leaving puppy chow crumbs on the floor, or leaving a puddle behind for us to step in…all at the bat of those big brown eyes. But yesterday…oh yesterday…Benny just went a little too far…

Check out my pretty new “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto” shoes. Don’t you just L-O-V-E them? Well I do! I got them last week. I woke with anticipation to wear them for the first time yesterday. I carefully selected an outfit to pair with my new shoes because, well, you KNOW that it’s ALL about getting a great pair of shoes and then putting an entire outfit together to compliment them. I get dressed and pull out the pièce de résistance…and that’s when I lost it.

“BENNNNYYYYYYYY you ROTTEN little ball of TERROR!!!!!! Where is he?!?! I’m going to BEAT him with my new shoe!!” He slowly rounds the corner into the hallway and we meet face-to-face, like a stand-off in the old country westerns. He, with his rotten cuteness and I with my damaged Gianni Bini red patent leather mary jane pump. SOMEONE was not going to make it out alive…SOMEONE with four stubby little legs and a bark that mimics a squeaky toy. He took his first shot… cocked his little floppy ears up, tilted his head to the side and gazed at me with the innocence of a newborn child. I was determined not to waiver. I marched toward him with the shoe in my hand, prepared to teach him a proper lesson, and then…he lost his balance and fell over like a little piece of freshly chopped timber.

My heart welled up and I began to giggle, which only made him roll over on his back and shoot those eyes at me from the upside-down cute angle. I was defeated. He had won. How could I stay mad at this little guy? Lesson learned. I can’t compete with that action. He owns me, and I should have known better than to leave my closet door ajar. Well played Benny Bop…well played.

He’s Got Electric Boots and a Mohair Suit

Our family dynamic has taken an interesting turn into retro cuteness with our newest addition…Benny “the Jet”. He’s an adopted eclectic mixture of terriers and other small breeds with a personality that packs a punch! Mischievous, playful, inquisitive, and full of spunk, this little guy has owned our house…and our hearts since the day we brought him home.

The name, you ask? Well, his name was initially Elvis Aaron Presley (because there is a little hound dog in all of us). So we were on the long drive home when the radio chimed in with Elton John’s classic tune, and wouldn’t you know…little “Elvis” sat up, cocked his ears, and started howling. It was the funniest thing ever. The song ended and he quieted instantly. I began to tease him saying things like, “Elvis? Do you like Benny and the Jets?” And every time he heard the word Benny, his little head turned and his ears stood at attention. Needless to say, Elvis had left the building and Benny was here to stay.

I know, right? Benny “the Jet” Miller. It sounds a little mafia. But you don’t know the half of it. Yesterday I brought him home a bone and he was chewing it and using the blunt end as a teaser toy for our other dog Maggie. At some point my cousin Del looks over and was all, “O-M-G that bone looks like a cigar in his mouth!” Yes people…Benny “the Jet” Miller went all gangsta, and earned his street cred. This little guy means business.

For Halloween, Benny surprised us with this uncanny impression of George Burns.  You're Welcome.

My Bank Is Conspiring Against Me

I needed to make a bank deposit this morning after running carpool. Having just rolled out of bed and walking out the door in my pjs with bed head and sleep still clinging to the corners of my eyes, I was not dressed appropriately for public viewing. I thought, No biggie…I’ll just go through the drive-thru.

Apparently my bank has a new “watch dog” of sorts. A GIANT locust was waiting for me near the receptacle. He was probably the leader of the locust plague in the bible. He sat there guarding the drive-thru receptacle…staring me down…inviting me to make my next move. What I saw was this:

I risked life and limb to get this photo.  You SEE?!  He's bigger than that lady's head in the car next to me!

What I pictured in my mind was more like this:

Clearly I needed to use proper caution

Where AM I?! Is this thing LOST or something? Why is it sitting there taunting me…laughing at my fear? I tried honking my horn to scare it away. He didn’t even flinch! Oh yeah…he was a professional alright. It was time to bring out the big guns…my loose change. I cracked my car window juuust a tad and began hurling pennies at the beast. (Just so you know, it’s pretty hard to properly aim your pennies through a one inch crack in the window when the lady in the black car next to me is giving me dirty looks.) So distracting!  I wasn't throwing the coins at HER!

Needless to say my deposit was not made this morning. Maybe my banker is jealous of all that moola I keep depositing into my account, or maybe it’s just all a part of a larger conspiracy.

Breaking all the “Cool Mom” Rules

First day of school! First day of school!  So here are the gratuitous shots I got this morning through my sleep-filled eyes…

This was his reaction to my instruction to "look more enthusiastic about your photo being taken"

The only somewhat normal photo I got

This was him telling me he was done with photos for the day

The progressive "eye roll" shot.  I tried to tell him that the proper eye roll is done CLOCKWISE...not counter-clockwise!

Have I mentioned that I LOVE my Canon 40D and it's ability to shoot several frames per second?  Okay, back to the story.


I was filled with pride today as my only son walked toward Bolton High School (Go Bears!) for the beginning of his freshman year. Then suddenly…a thought…THIS, my friends, is a Kodak moment!!!



So I whip out my Blackberry and frantically press the buttons to open the camera app. My heart was racing. What was I doing?!?! My next move could make or break his reputation for years to come. What would he say when he found out?? How could something be sooo wrong when it felt sooo right? So I did it. I threw caution to the wind and snapped a photo of my baby bear walking up to the school. Oh yes I did. Right in front of everyone! I paused for a moment and gazed at my new photographic treasure as the narration ran through my mind. After 14 years of inconspicuous and expert maneuvers, Abby’s efforts were amply rewarded with the coveted cell phone camera shot of the elusive bear cub approaching his new den.

Steele Wilson...freshman bear cub

The line of carpoolers piling up behind me was my cue to flee the scene before being discovered.  I'd like to think that those parents were not annoyed, but beaming with pride at the new frontier I had reached.  The car horns honking behind me led me to believe otherwise.

Oh yeah…I’m THAT mom!

I could have spared his ego this one time…but sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.

The Squirrely Bird Always Gets the Worm

I believe we all have that one screwy neighbor…you know the one I’m talking about.  The soccer mom  who does 5 point turns in her driveway to park her enormous SUV just right; that guy who paces his back yard after digging shallow graves spraying insect killer sporadically in the air and creating his own exterminator version of Swan Lake; the old woman who cuts the grass along her stepping stones with craft scissors while humming “Tinny Bubbles” by  Don Ho and who visits only to bring you bagged specimens of dog poo collected from her yard to inquire as to whether or not your dog made it.  Okay well maybe that last one was just an isolated case in which my aunt and uncle were living next door to a lunatic, but you get the point.

Well in my child “hood”, that one neighbor was a doozy.  A hoarder of sorts, she would chase her two rambunctious boys around the junkyard known as her lawn with frying pans or ping pong paddles threatening to beat some sense into them.  When you knocked on her door, she would answer by cracking it just enough to catch a glimpse of her hair net and lazy eye.  But all of that probably would have gone unnoticed amongst the neighborhood cast of characters if it hadn’t been for the fact that she would come and go in her dented, busted –up old truck at least 30 times a day.

Our living room had several windows facing the street, so day and night we would see her leave, then return, then leave, and return.  My dad would yell out, “Look kids!  There goes SQUIRRELY BIRD again!” And we would run into the room to giggle and make up stories about where she was headed THIS time.  I’m not sure where my dad got the nickname “squirrely bird”.  It could possibly be another of his famous coonass terms like fiddly-fartin’ or old as the hills or T-totally ugly.  But at age 10, I pictured the squirrely bird to be something like this.

"Git back here you spawn of the devil!"

And sometimes I would defend the squirrely bird by suggesting “normal” reasons for her comings and goings.  Things like, “She’s probably just getting groceries.” Or “Maybe she’s secretly a superhero who has to fight crime.”

Heeeere I come to save the DAAAAAY!

My dad would be like, “Nah, she’s just squirrely.”

My neighborhood now is peppered with squirrely birds.  But at least there aren’t any peepers.

Monkey see, Monkey do WHAT?!

So I want to talk a little about this photo.

We Are Awesome!

It has been on the front of my fridge for about 4 years, so yes, I’ve glanced at it hundreds of times. So why did I never notice before today that my son is giving HIMSELF rabbit ears?! Really? So basically he took a moment to consider his options, and the best candidate ended up being HIMSELF?! Knowing my son, it sort of makes sense…but still.

There’s one in every group, but since when is it this child of mine?

About 3 weeks ago, my friend Laura was visiting from out of town (her kid is the one front and center) and we were discussing how this photo captures perfectly the personalities of this group of neighborhood kids back in the day. Jonathan (Laura’s son) front and center, taking charge and challenging the photographer to dictate his next move, Brandon (far right) relinquishing the attention, doing his own thing in his own little world, but still making futile attempts to earn a smile, Ryan (second from left) flailing around like a monkey on meth, and most likely singing the Pokemon theme song as loud and repetitiously as possible in order to clown his way into the spotlight, and Tyler (far left) the quiet, unsupervised country boy from down the street who stares in awe at the other three thinking…”Hey ya’ll quit posing and let’s go blow up a bull frog in the ditch behind the house and build a fort in the woods.”

These little monkeys have since grown apart and gone their separate paths into their teen years…it’s probably a good thing. Maybe Brandon won’t be THAT one in his next group, but then again…I sure love that kid.

Citizens for Sasquatch Privacy

I’d like to bring your attention to one of The Gambit blog of New Orleans posts this morning, where they shared this fancy little nugget of information through a press release issued as follows:

"Bigfoot Captured on Video in New Orleans City Park

06.27.11 - New Orleans, LA - The New Orleans Bigfoot Society (N.O.B.S.) received a video of what appears to be an unclassified non-human primate in New Orleans City Park this week. N.O.B.S. immediately dispatched a field team who gathered hair and fecal samples from the site of the encounter. N.O.B.S. has sent these samples to a lab for analysis and will update the public on the results as soon as they are available.

You can watch the video footage on the N.O.B.S. website: www.nolabigfoot.com

If this evidence proves conclusive, it will be a major breakthrough in the scientific search for Bigfoot.

The New Orleans Bigfoot Society (N.O.B.S.) was founded in 2001 by a group of Sasquatch researchers and enthusiasts in the Greater New Orleans area. It’s a little known fact that there are more Bigfoot encounters in Louisiana than in any other region of the USA (other than the Pacific Northwest).

Several of our members have had personal encounters with the creature, many of them during the course of N.O.B.S. research. Surprisingly, many verified sightings occur near urban areas and there are several documented encounters that have occurred inside the City of New Orleans (especially in the wild areas of City Park over the last few years).

N.O.B.S. is dedicated to uncovering the truth behind the nature of these creatures, finding evidence of their existence, and revealing it to the world.

There has been a rash of recent sightings in the area including one in New Orleans East (at the abandoned Six Flags) and at least two other verified reports of strange humanoid creatures encountered in City Park. We have also received audio recordings and photographic evidence that is currently being analyzed.

If you have seen or encountered one of these creatures, please contact N.O.B.S. immediately by emailing: sightings@nolabigfoot.com

For interview requests please contact:

Dr. Xavier Jenks, PhD

Research Team Leader

New Orleans Bigfoot Society (N.O.B.S.)

http://www.nolabigfoot.com/ "

A direct link to the post is here: http://www.bestofneworleans.com/blogofneworleans/archives/2011/06/28/big-foot-real-or-imagined

First of all…OMG!!!!! Sasquatch in NOLA?!?!?! People! Leave him alone! He’s not hurting anyone! I’m sure he’s just trying to pass a good time on Bourbon Street…have a little gumbo, join a second-line parade…

I have to admit, I feel like a blossoming expert on sasquatches after the 2 hour period Sunday afternoon wherein I found myself editing marketing pieces on the couch with Animal Planet droning on endlessly in the room. When all of a sudden, right before me was a 2 hour marathon of a show called Finding Bigfoot. Basically what I know is this, sasquatches DON’T WANT TO BE BOTHERED! They pretty much always run away or hide when spotted, despite their superior size and strength. And also, even though none of the sasquatch info we have can be confirmed to be fact, I'm pretty sure if you are out camping in the woods, and you play Wilson Phillips Greatest Hits in your tent, sasquatches will throw rocks at you…but really, can you blame them?

Second, and most importantly, I’d like to bring mention to the fact that there presently exists (and has for a while) duhn dhun dhun DUHHHHHHNNNNN

The New Orleans Bigfoot Society (N.O.B.S.)

Wha? Are they for real? Because there is a REAL demand for this institution in the big scheme of things.

I think the sasquatches are just gentle giants watching over us as we watch for them. Maybe we have it all wrong. Maybe they are our protectors against the cataclysmic zombie invasion that everyone keeps talking about. People! I implore you! Think about Chewbacca, and what an asset he was to those on his side! Don’t piss off the yetis! Save the wookies! And stop following Big Foot!