Pre-Turkey Day Turkey Day

The Spare.  He is 18.  Today.  At straight up 5pm.  Dear Lord.

He entered the world in the craziest roller coaster ride ever.  He broke both arms before he was 2 1/2, in separate accidents -- neither of which I have heard the real truth about, I'm sure.  He swallowed a quarter and had to have it surgically removed.  I still have the quarter -- and the $3000 hospital bill that went along with it.  He got lost at Vacation Bible School when he was 2 -- they couldn't find him for 45 minutes -- and he had just had surgery that day.  (That's a story for another day.)  He got lost LOTS of times at the Children's Museum, but we virtually always found him in the gift shop, playing with the trains.  He went to Europe, tasted some wine and, as he said "found out I'm a depressed drunk."  To which Thomas replied "that sucks."

He speaks a different language than us, most days, but it is a highly intelligent one that, though it may not make sense at first pass, is actually pretty darned smart.  He has a wicked sense of humor -- even when he doesn't intend to be funny.  He can dance, and it's a very amazing thing to watch when he really breaks loose.  He's has a 3.9 GPA, but doesn't consider himself to be one of the "smart kids," and will argue that point till he's blue in the face.  It's not that he doesn't want to BE one of the smart kids.  He just doesn't think he's in the top echelon.  He's wrong about that, by the way.

He's got a heart as big as the universe, and is a sensitive soul.  He gives great hugs -- frequently -- and would put himself in front of a truck for his mama, I think.  He loves the chickens.  And his cat........oh, Lordie, his cat.  He loves that cat, and that cat loves him.  ::sigh::

And so it is that we celebrate today the birth of Seth.  If I've heard once this week, I've heard a hundred times "you know, I'm gonna be 18 on Saturday."  I know, I know.  He was a little disappointed to hear that although he can now buy lottery tickets, he still can't go into a casino (this is a good thing).  He can now get drafted, buy porn and cigarettes, drive with passengers in the car, and vote (he's quite sad he missed the election by a few weeks, but things turned out ok, so he was fine with it).  He was somewhat dismayed to hear that although he can't go into a strip club yet, he CAN work as a stripper.  And he gave me a little slinky wiggle when he announced that.  Oye vay.

This boy, The Spare, is, and will be, forever my baby.  He makes me proud every day, and makes me laugh even more.  And in between, he makes me smile, because he is Seth.  The one and only.  The brainiac.  Switzerland.  The little brother.  And all around good guy.

Happy birthday, baby boy.  Your mama loves you.

IED

My boo and I made homemade spaghetti sauce, and canned 26 quarts.  It's a process that took about four days to complete, and I'm still trying to find the space for him to store it all.  It's some pretty amazing stuff though -- full of beef, sausage, veggies, and fresh tomatoes.  Those of our friends who have tasted it have begged for more, and for good reason.  The man can COOK.

We discussed the fact that he needed to come up with a good name and label it, so we could give it away for Christmas.  He called it Cleveland Red,"bottled in the Mistake by the Lake, Parma, OH", labelled one bottle, and left it sitting on the coffee table in my living room.

So, Jill and Michael were home this weekend, to attend a wedding for a friend.  A great time was had by all, and Jim has decided that Seth might just be in demand by every fraternity on whatever campus he lands on, because the boy let it loose.  It was fun to watch the kids out there tearing it up, especially given the fact that Seth was exhausted going in, because he'd been to a lockin at school the night before.  Jillie and Michael went to hang out with friends afterward, Seth came home and, of course, fell asleep on the living room floor, and I hit the sack early.

This morning, Thomas decided to make me breakfast.  He asked me rather nonchalantly "do you smell poop?"  Keep in mind that this is not out of the question when there are three dogs in the house.  Of course, my nose is typically fairly nonfunctional, but yeah, I smelled something that seemed off in the living room.  Neither of us could find the source, but something wasn't right.  I kind of got distracted by the wonderful breakfast, but then Seth came upstairs.  Seth has a nose like a bloodhound -- probably even MORE sensitive -- and he made a beeline out to the living room to see what was up. ( Irony.)

Next thing you know, I hear him say "Mom, come here."  "What?  I'm eating."  "Ummmmm, you need to come here."  So, I wander out there, mildly annoyed that my French scrambled eggs will either a) get cold or b) be eaten by a dog, and find Seth standing in the living room looking up.  I look up, and realize that the ceiling is covered with something red.

It took a minute to register that the stains were spaghetti sauce.

Apparently, we must've not filled that can up far enough, and the pressure built up in the jar until the top blew completely off.  There was spaghetti sauce on the ceiling, walls, tables and carpet, making it look slighly like a murder scene.  I'm still waiting for Shemar Moore to arrive........

I scraped the ceiling off with a spatula, washed the tables and will deal with the few spots on the carpet later -- they were already dried, and they're little enough not to worry about.  I've already called the painter, and will finally get the living room and dining room painted, like I've planned to do since I moved in.

Meantime, I think that we should rename the sauce USMC IED Spaghetti Sauce.  The only sauce that you need a helmet to use.

Apples to Oranges

So, a series of weird things happened this week.  First, Seth asked if Jim and I had plans for Friday.  Of course, I asked why, quickly followed by the inevitable question "are you planning a party?"  This was on Monday.  Thursday, Thomas said something about cooking dinner on Friday.  "For all of us?"  "Well, that's a lot of pressure, but sure."

Chris, as usuall, arrived promptly after school, so I came home to one cooking, and all three boys talking nerd.  One day, I will miss these meetings of the minds, because it's kind of fun when everyone is in the kitchen talking, no matter the subject.  Anyway, Jim arrived shortly after, and I discovered that really, no cooking was going on.  I knew Thomas was feeling the pressure of cooking for everyone, so I didn't push it, but hey, it was after seven before I saw much action going on.  Meantime, I realized that I needed to pay a bill, or it would be late, so I ran back to my room to boot up (my living room is, for some reason, a big ole black hole for the new laptop).  Next thing I knew, Chris was in my room, asking what I was doing, whilst sitting on the exercise bike.  A minute later, I got up to leave, and realized that Chris was blocking my way and messing with my door.  He said he was fixing it, and I was getting a bit annoyed before he got out of the way and let me out -- a little claustrophobic, dontcha know.

So, I wandered down the hall and walked into the entryway.  Glanced toward the living room and saw a familiar profile.  One that wasn't supposed to be here.  WOOHOO!  Jillie was home!  Turned out that everyone but me knew that she was coming, cause she wanted to surprise me.  What a wonderful thing, since I haven't seen her for a few weeks.

So, we had dinner, which included Chicken Marsala, sticky rice (yum!), and string beans (oops, Seth forgot to snap the ends off, but they were good anyway), then settle in for a game of Apples to Apples.  Now, I don't know if you've ever played it, but it's a pretty fun game, and is good for some laughs.  We used to play it with the kids when we went camping, but it had been forever since I'd played.  Good thing, cause we had to explain it to Jim.  Here's kind of how it goes:  you get dealt seven cards.  Each card has a word or a phrase on it.  Someone pulls a card off a different (green) deck, and tosses it down.    That card has an adjective on it.  Each person then tosses out one of their cards, and the first player now has to go through and pick one of the tossed down cards that matches the adjective in whatever way they choose.  Like, say the green card is "Peaceful".  People throw down their cards, which are "war," "rivers", and "pond scum."  A sensible person might choose rivers as the best match, but in our family, it would probably be pond scum.  After the first player makes their choice, the green card is given to the person who laid it down.  The first one to get to seven green cards is the winner.  Now, everyone has their own idea of what they are looking for.  Personally, "ninja" is a sure one for me to choose.  Thomas would choose "Canada."  I can't remember what Jill's favorite card is.  We have to keep Chris' words short, because he had to really, really look when he picked up one that said "incense."  ::sigh::

And so it was the Jillie tossed down the green card "unforgettable."  I think I threw down "the 1920s."   Someone threw down "horseback riding."  Thomas tossed down "Leonardo da Vinci."  I don't remember; the other cards, because what happened afterward was so stinkin funny, I about peed my pants.

Jill, of course, chose "horseback riding."  Anyone who knows her knows that's a sure thing with her.  Thomas promptly brought both fists down hard on the table and shouted "WHAT THE HELL!  HOW IN THE WORLD IS THE SISTINE CHAPEL NOT THE MOST UNFORGETTABLE THING EVER???"

Now, I'm gonna give you a minute to let that register.

And yes, this is my "gifted" kid.

And now, for your dining pleasure.........Sethanese

So last night, Seth and I were chatting about food.  He was, as always, hungry, because he's almost 18 and is a bottomless pit.  Although I have found that the psychology of putting the healthy stuff on the eye level shelf gets him to eat the good stuff, he still couldn't find something to satisfy him.  This, of course, means that nothing was jumping off said shelf and into his hands.  I gave him a list of things that might work for a snack, and of course they were all shot down.  He finally said "I think I'm just bored with food in general."

I asked him if I needed to worry about an eating disorder.

Then again, this is Seth, whose take on the world is slightly off our orbit -- and I truly, truly love that about him, because as you can tell, he's more than a little entertaining.  So, we wandered into my room, where he jumped on the exercise bike whilst I checked my email.  I gave him the "hey, you're gonna be on your own next year, and so you need to get with the whole idea of actually cooking" talk.  Reminded him that one day, his significant other would greatly appreciate his cooking skills.

Keep in mind -- the boy can cook.  He has made such delicacies as home-made ramen (which he said was good) and candied bacon (which he said was awesome).  He can make some pretty good string beans, and he can properly boil just about any kind of noodle.  So yeah, he's got the basics, but he needs to learn how to put a real meal together, so I started showing him how to find recipes for things that interest him, using websites like food.com, foodchannel.com, and heck, just plain google.  Of course, we were searching for recipes that included, of course, ramen, but also found one he actually tried out for breakfast this morning.  It's progress.

All in all, he decided, FINALLY, that he needs to expand his horizons and start trying new foods.  He had asparagus last weekend, for the first time he could recall, and loved it.  And so it was that tonight he told me that he had tried guacamole today.  I can't remember where he said he got it, but I asked him if he liked it.  "It was ok," he said.  "It tastes like liquid lettuce."

Gotta admit, he's kinda right.

The Weather, According to Sethanese

So, here I am riding the exercise bike in my room, minding my own business, when The Spare walks in.  Mind you, I am watching my husband, Anderson Cooper, report from the areas affected by Hurricane Sandy.  The TV is showing a video of New Jersey which includes footage of a huge area of houses (do they call them housing additions in Jersey?) that are inundated with sand brought in by the storm.  Scary stuff, even if you are watching it from hundreds of miles away.

I said to Seth "can you believe all that sand?  That's just awful."  Seth replied "is that sand?  I thought it was snow."  "Nope, it is sand."  "What the heck?  Did the hurricane do that?"  "Yep."

We sit, silently watching the footage, and taking in the commentary.  Suddenly, Seth says "wait a minute.  What's the name of that hurricane again?"  "Sandy," say I.  "WHOA...........did they do that on purpose?"

Once it sunk in, I laughed for probably about twenty minutes.

Knock Knock

Seth told me yesterday, "hey Mom, some creepy guys came to the door and gave me this."  He handed me a card from the Mormons.  Oh heck, they found us.

19 years we lived in the other house, and we never once had a Mormon or a Jehovah's Witness knock on the door.  I used to joke with my boss, because she was a JW.  She would leave on Thursdays and say "I'm off to Bible study, so I can learn to knock on your door."  I would always point out that no JW had ever once knocked on our door.  She would smile and then ask for my address and say she was sending them my way.  They never came.

So how is it that after mere seven months here and they found me?  Well, not JW, but Mormon, but same difference when you already have the Jesus you want in your life.  I need to buy one of these,

but in the meantime, I'm going with the theory that they will go away after the election.  And Seth has been given instructions that should those "creepy guys" show up again, he can dismiss them with something along the lines of  "Don't bother.  We're voting Obama."

Dinner Isn't Done............

I took out a package of meat out of the freezer over the weekend, fully intending to take advantage of the grill.  I wasn't sure what it was at first, but the label said ribeyes.  I had bought them some time back when my boo was over making dinner, but it turned out he showed up with New York Strip steaks, so the ones I bought went back into the freezer.  Well, I didn't get around to cooking this weekend, because of course, he cooked, so the steaks sat there for the past couple of days.

Not one to let a nice slab of meat go bad, I figured I'd make 'em into fajitas for the spare to the throne.  He's not a huge fan of steak, but he does love fajitas, so that was the plan.  Then I realized that Thomas was off work, and my boo had made chili for me out at his house.  What better way for the boys to bond than over steaks?  It's a guy thing, right?  So I texted Thomas and asked him over.  Sure, no problem.

Next thing you know, he showed up at my house with a backpack.  He laughed and said he was pulling a Jim, because Jim tends to show up here with his own spices and pans -- he's particular about his cooking, dontcha know.  Thomas pulled out a cast iron skillet and a bunch of spices from his backpack, and said he was gonna show Seth how to cook like a man.  When I went out the door, there were three fat ribeyes on the cutting board, with the heir to the throne hovering over them.

Ten minutes later, my phone rang.  It was Seth.  I picked it up, and heard a horrendous wailing noise and Seth.  Seth yelling, to be exact.  Yelling "WHY IS THE SMOKE DETECTOR DOING THIS?????"

Sometimes, a mother just doesn't want to know.