Green day at school

Today was green day at school. All the kids had to wear a green top. There was a presentation by the WWF and the elementary kids will be having a recycled paper making session after school. I'm pretty impressed by the recycling efforts at her school. They have recycle bins everywhere. The kids don't really have an opportunity to not recycle actually. No regular bins. Only 'paper', 'plastic' and 'waste food' bins in groups of 3 wherever you go. Good idea really.

Anyhow, we've been home for a bit. I'm messing on the computer and she's reading something when all of a sudden, she comes up to me and says, 'Mummy, don't put your juice box in the bin. It has to be recycled. We have to look after the environment or the endangered rhinoceres (rhinoceri?) will have nothing to eat. There are only 60 left! Also, if we chop down trees to make paper, the squirrels will have no homes and no nuts. So recycle your paper ok? The lady was asking people to adopt rhinos in school today. Can we adopt one?' As I sit there a bit stunned by this deluge of information, my automatic reaction is, 'Sure. Let's adopt a rhino.' Then it occurs to me that kiddo might think we can bring the fellow home! So I cautiously say, 'You DO know that we can't bring it home right?' Kiddo, 'Of course mummy! They live in the national park and eat leaves and stuff. We just have to go there everyday to give it some love!' Riiiggghhhttt. 'Everyday?' I say, trying not to fall on the floor screaming with laughter. Bad for the child's self esteem, you know. 'Ye-ah' she says matter-of-factly, 'after school everyday, we'll just go to the park and play with it.'

Now, I have full respect for the WWF presenters having to deal with a bunch of yelling fidgety kids, but if I EVER see any of them I shall very strongly suggest that presentations to impressionable young kids include the statement, 'Adopting means your parents PAY for us to look after the animal. You may not visit, touch, or play with said animal.' Capisce??

Porn

Hubby and I were perusing our much over crowded workroom when he suddenly declared, 'You have too much porn.' I looked at him and was debating whether to slap first and ask questions later or just pretend my ears were acting up, when he continued with, 'Look at your shelf, it's full of books on beading, candle making, origami, sewing, painting, scrapbooking... And that's just what I can see! And I don't even know when you add something, the piles just get bigger!' Ohhh. Ookkaaay. Well, I was feeling rather unfairly attacked so I came back with, ' Oh yeah?! What about all your running and triathlon magazines? And your collection of running shoes that look perfect but YOU say they have gone past their distance limit and you need a new one? And your bike? And the indoor trainer? And the mammoth bike case when you've only ever gone for ONE triathlon?'

This is my work table. I admit it's a LITTLE messy.

Part of my craft book collection.

The Man's new bike. Brought it back all the way from New York.

His running shoe collection. Except the white pair on the right. Those are his super special bike shoes. Not in the picture are the ones he took into work for his daily running session at the gym. Also, to be fair, what looks like an extra 3 pairs is actually a reflection off the mirror. Don't ask why there's a mirror under the table. That's a whole different story...

The Man's collection of Runner's World and Triathlon magazines. And all the other various running and tri training books. Also the running and tri dvd's. He's forever in search of the perfect technique...

Let's put it this way, we both think the other is spending more on their 'porn' but I think it's pretty equal. I could've bought at least 100 craft books with what his bike costs!

As I said before, I love my crafts. Sometimes I buy books on crafts that I probably won't have time to learn anytime soon, but I love looking at the lovely pictures and filing it in my 'to-get-to-at-some-point' mental box. I reckon this is the main difference between the way Hubs' brain is wired and mine. He has his little interests, but they come one at a time. First, photography. When that was over, running, with biking and swimming now tacked on.

Carrying on with our little contretemps, I said, 'Anyway, porn is the wrong word. I don't know about you, but I CERTAINLY don't derive any sexual gratification from my crafting! It keeps me sane! I spend less on gifts! Don't you like my scrapbooks!' Well, The Man has THE MOST amazing ability to just suddenly switch off. His answer was, 'Hey, whatever tickles your tackle babes...' Followed by him whipping out the latest Runners World magazine. Grrr... Annoying Y chromosome carrier, I wasn't even finished with the discussion! We love each other. Honestly. We do.

Out of the mouths of babes

I just HAD to write this down before I forget it. Never mind that I'd give a kidney for my bed right now.

Tonight, right after bath time as I was snipping kiddo's nails, she suddenly turned to me and said, 'Mummy, when I grow up, I want to be a doctor.' Ok, nothing new there, but knowing my experience and with the benefit of a bunch of horrific over night shifts behind me, I calmly (while yelling 'No! No! No!' inside) said, 'Well, it's a lot of hard work you know, and mummy decided I'd rather spend my time with you and Daddy. BUT, you can do whatever you want...!' Never forget equality and female emancipation! Nor hold your kids back because of your own prejudices... So say all the books. Kiddo replied, 'That's ok, then I'll just be a teacher, like you. But I also want to be a scientist... So I'll be a doctor 1st, then a teacher when I get tired of being a doctor, then a scientist when I get tired of being a teacher!' Um. Well. 'Kiddo, it's hard to earn money if you keep changing jobs like that you know. And it takes a long time to study for each thing, so why don't you have a good think about it. You have plenty of time to decide.' Reply, 'Hmmm, yes, I also want to earn lots of coins like daddy.' Ulp. Too much farmville perhaps? Then, 'That's ok, I'll just stay home like you. And do stuff I like. Like being a doctor, a teacher, a scientist...' Me (out-talked by now), 'Baby, you can't earn money by staying home and just working a bit here and there you know...' Kid, 'You do.' Urk!! Beleaguered mummy, 'Mummy was very blessed because daddy makes enough money so I can stay home to look after my little baby.' Kid, 'That's ok, I'll just stay at home and be your grown-up little baby...!' Me (in a bit of a panic now), 'Where are you going to get your money from?' Answer, 'Daddy.' *slams head against the wall* What have I done?!?!