Sandwiches and the Wilting Spider

Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies  who will dazzle you with insight on various topics.  After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World

For this week, Tracey chose: Those that get it will understand

When I saw the topic for this week, I immediately thought about inside jokes and life experiences.

Last night I had a visitor. A good friend of mine was in the neighborhood and had a couple of things to drop off. This is the same friend I adopted Chance from and who I affectionately refer to as his Aunt, so of course she stayed a while and spent some time with the little guy. While I attempted to syringe feed him (kitten formula going every which way but into the kitten’s mouth) I admitted to my friend how hard it’s been acclimating to life with Chance. He can’t eat out of a bowl yet. Or won’t, believe me I’ve tried to coax him off the syringe and onto a bowl of formula. I’ve even gotten down on my hands and knees pretending to lap up the formula myself, hoping he’ll watch me with interest. He’ll walk up to me and keeps on walking. He turns his nose up at wet food, even when I offer that to him at almost every feeding. He wants to get into everything or under everything, and the other day he was so excited to see me that he went barreling down the hallway and tumbled down a few steps. I had to catch him before he continued rolling down the stairs into the living room.  I keep a watchful eye around him with my boys and our dog, and not that they don’t do well with Chance, but Chance is so tiny. He sleeps in my room and if he hears us make any noise he wakes up. It’s not a big deal, not unless I have to go and do something extremely important like pick my son up from school. This happened yesterday. Chance can’t be contained anymore. He climbs right out of any box you place him in, so he mournfully meowed and I felt as though the clock was ticking while I was out. He is getting a lot better with the litter box, but there are still contingencies with that. I have to watch for ques to know when to plop him in so he’ll do the deed in the right place. All of this leads to proper training, and all of it leads to a great kitty later on, but this part is hard when throwing in my boys, my husband, my house, etc. Life doesn’t stop, not even for Chance.

It was nice getting this off my chest with someone who completely understood why I was wearing formula-covered pajama bottoms and a kitten saliva-stained t-shirt (Chance is teething. Big time.) My friend said, “Sara, I totally get it.” She’d been there not a few weeks prior, dealing with the same stuff I am currently dealing with before I took him in. She also gently reminded me that it would only last a couple of more weeks before Chance would be eating on his own, drinking on his own, and in such a short amount of time everything will fall nicely into place, and all this hard work will have paid off. It’s just nice to be understood, even when I say, “It’s time for Chance to take a nap.” I know, that sounds weird, but for anyone who has taken care of a newborn animal they will totally get it.

I love inside jokes. Nothing brings people closer than having something intimate that they can share. I won’t divulge all of my inside jokes, but there are a few worth mentioning. Anytime my husband or I say the word “sandwiches”, we say it… well, you have to see the G.I. Joe Sandwiches clip to understand. It just slips out, every single time! Years ago, while working as a leasing agent with women who would later become my best friends for life, I came up with the wilting spider. I stood in place, arms slowly wrapping around myself as I collapsed down towards the floor, just like a spider who is slowly dying would do. We still use this one on occasion whenever any of us feel as though life is particularly tough. We just stand there and do the wilting spider. There’s also pantomiming absolute fear when sitting in the passenger side of a vehicle. I was dating someone who was a bit of a pain in the ass during my reckless 20’s, and to be funny I plastered my face to the passenger-side window, palms pressed on either side of me, pretending to scream. My friends were standing and watching the spectacle the entire time. We’ll do that one on occasion if we are about to embark on a journey we don’t really feel like taking. Recent inside jokes involve my kids. When stress levels hit an all-time high, humor always helps. When either boy wants something, they have a tendency to pull the Stewie card, from Family Guy. “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom…”  To be funny, my husband and I will face one another and begin to keep track of how many times they say my name, or his. We show the count by using our hands. “One. Two. Three. Four…” We wont’ say a word and try not to laugh while we do this, but it’s hard not to. I don’t think the boys have caught on yet. It still remains a little inside joke, helping us sail an at-times chaotic sea.

 

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2 thoughts on “Sandwiches and the Wilting Spider”

  1. Great post. Great minds think alike in how we saw the topic. 🙂 When I hear “sandwiches,” I think of something funny from How I Met Your Mother. (Sandwich was a cover up word for something that’s only legal in a couple of states.) My husband and I joke about the ways our kids react to certain things. Like when E cries, it’s VERY hard not to laugh. I feel bad about it, but he and I just look at each other when it happens and the giggles come on. Or we call it an “eye grinder.”

  2. I love inside jokes and I also love when people can finish each others’ sentences. No one ever understands why my BFF Michelle and I are laughing. Just as we like it. Great post!

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