***

Last night I walk downstairs, cup of tea in hand.  Jay is sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Whatcha watching?” I ask.

“The Democratic National Convention.”

I look at the screen.  Sure enough, some politician-looking guy is standing in front of a bright blue background talking avidly about something.  He’s ALL worked up.

“Ewww!” I say, “Why are you watching that?  Didn’t you know Bones is on?”

Jay rolls his eyes.  “Jen!  it’s not every day you get to watch this stuff.  This is history in the making.”

I grunt.  “Whatever.  It seems like a big fat infomercial to me.  How many people watch this who aren’t voting democrat?  Huh?  Huh?  It’s like… propaganda.”

(and Bones is high-quality entertainment)

Jay shakes his head in disgust.  “It’s NOT propoganda.  These are REAL people.  This could be our PRESIDENT and VICE PRESIDENT.”

Whatever.

I plop down next to him to watch.  CJ joins us.  “MOMMY!  I don’t want to watch this!” he hollers.  But he is overruled by history in the making.

Despite myself I find that I’m sucked in.  The excitement on screen is infectious.

Plus they’re promising to do stuff like FIX THE ECONOMY and LOWER GAS PRICES and STOP GLOBAL WARMING. Which all sounds pretty good to me. Although there’s a teeny-tiny voice in the back of my mind that wonders, can you really do ALL THAT in four years? 

At least Bones is realistically unrealistic.

As Joe Biden starts shouting “JOHN MCCAIN WAS WRONG!  BARACK OBAMA WAS RIGHT!” over and over, CJ looks up at me and says, “Mommy?  Who’s Barack Obama?”

“Well,” I scramble trying to come up with an answer, “Barack Obama might be our next president.”

“President?” he wrinkles his nose, “What’s a president?”

“Umm, well… it’s like a KING.” I tell him.

“Ohhhh.” this makes total sense to CJ.

Biden’s speech is drawing to an end and the camera pans behind him to show a row of fans (but really, is there anything else at this event?)

“Hey!” I shout, pointing at the screen, “I recognize that silver-haired guy!”

Jay looks at me in disbelief.

“What?” I ask. 

“That’s John Kerry,” he says, his voice thick with disgust.

“Oh.”

What can I say?  Politics is not my bag, baby.

***
On to more serious topics…

I was saddened to hear that blogger Stephanie Nielsen and her husband, Christian, were in an airplane crash and are both are in critical condition.  The family has set up a website for them here.  Many bloggers are stepping up to help out, including Katie who is currently hosting a silent auction to benefit the Nielsens with money to help with what are sure to be hideously large medical costs.  Be sure to stop by and show some support!

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• This girl’s still got it
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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

The problem is, I’m allergic to cats and most dogs.

So… I’m thinking I’ll get him a zedonk.

“A ze-WHAT?” you ask…

A ZEDONK.

(emphasis on the DONK)

Oh no, I am not making this up. 

Witness the VERY OFFICIAL sign:

(note: zedonks cannot reproduce)

You want to know what this rare and unique creature looks like, don’t you?

Patience, grasshopper.

First I have to tell the WHOLE story.

***

I spent my high school years in Idaho, so fairs are not a mystery to me.

Greasy, fried food that smells so unbelievable you want to gorge yourself. Never mind that you’re SURE to have diarrhea later… it’ll be WORTH it.

The smell of farm animals and hay and exhaust and sweat.

People in tight jeans and cowboy boots with sunburns and acne and mullets.

Old creaky rides that spin and twirl you till you’re ready to throw right up the elephant ear, churro, and WHOLE BAG of caramel corn all over the hay.

Exhibition halls filled with food choppers and hot tubs and MAGIC DEVICES that you need (only you just don’t know it yet).

Ahhh, the fair. 

So when Wendy suggested that CJ and I ferry over to Bainbridge Island and visit their county fair on Friday, I said HECK YEAH!  And is that an elephant ear that I smell?

**on a totally unrelated note, my spell check is asking if I might perhaps mean “beanbag” rather than “bainbridge” which is totally making me giggle.  And now I wish there really was a place called Beanbag Island, because I totally want to go there.**

So we hopped on the ferry, CJ and I, and made our way across the blue waters to Bainbridge (NOT Beanbag) Island.  Wendy picked us up on the other side and we followed the smell of cows and churros to THE FAIR.

Even though global warming seems to be happening everywhere else but here the sun managed to find its way through the clouds and make it feel… one last time… like summer.

We filled our bellies with hot dogs and frozen lemonade and wandered. 

And we saw all kinds of interesting stuff.

CJ was infatuated with the white man who moved when you dropped coins in his bucket.

I preferred the animal barns because there were lots of cute critters in there and also it was SHADY.

(that sun is HOT, when it comes out)

It was in one of those barns that we saw the zedonk.

(I’m NOT making this up!  I’m NOT!)

Apparently one activity that people engage in on Beanbag Island is to have exotic animals (like zebras) mate with not-so-exotic animals (like donkeys).

Can you say THRILLING?!

You saw it here first.

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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

So it isn’t a surprise when CJ announces, “Mommy, mommy I found a spider in the house!”

I should tell you that I’m not afraid of spiders.  They’re little and we’re big and WHAT is there to be afraid of, logically?  At the same time I wouldn’t say that I’m exactly a fan.

Efficiency is my primary objective as I pull off a piece of paper towel and advance on the unsuspecting spider.

Make a web in my house, will you? 

CJ’s eyes widen as he watches me. He sees my diabolical plan written out in the whites of my eyes. ”Mommy?  You’re going to SQUISH the spider and throw it in the garbage?”

“Well, ok.  Yeah,” he continues, “We can THROW it in the GARBAGE.”

I pause.

This is not the message that I’ve worked so carefully to communicate. 

In fact, just a few days ago I distinctly remember shouting something about DON’T SQUISH THAT BUG BECAUSE IT HAS FEELINGS AND MAYBE EVEN A FAMILY!

And here I am, wreaking deadly violence on this small unsuspecting critter.

I need to take a different approach.

I sigh. “No, I’m not going to squish it or throw it away,” I tell CJ. 

Carefully I hold the paper towel underneath the spider so that his legs catch on it.  I carry it outside and fling the arachnid interloper across the railing and off our deck.  He’s airborne for a moment, before plummeting to the earth below.

I wonder if that spider will die from falling so far, I find myself wondering.  Can’t it use it’s thread, spiderman-style, to catch a nearby plant and soften its landing?  Or will it smash into the hard concrete and die an instant death?

What do you think?

(deep thoughts here at the Bananas house)

***
If you’re looking for the Weekly Writing prompt, I’ve decided to take this week off from that.  Because I couldn’t think of anything and I didn’t feel like it and it’s the last week before school starts and because I can.  But never fear, the next one will be a goody… a THEME for the entire month of September.  Cheerio!

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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

“Look!  Over there!  Look at the moon!”

I turn around and gasp.

It’s like a sign.

Well, to be EXACT, it’s like a letter.

See for yourself.

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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

OW! I turn around to see CJ winding up for another 1-2 punch.

“CJ! NO PUNCHING MOMMY!” I exclaim. The guy at the checkout counter smirks.

JAB JAB!! CJ hits me again. These punches HURT!

“CJ!!!” I howl, “Stop it!”

“But MOMMY,” CJ responds (very seriously), “I’m learning karate!”

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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.