“I told [my teacher] that we were late because you couldn’t find your keys,” Rachel told me nonchalantly yesterday. Really?, I thought. “What did she say?” I asked, curious to know what impact that piece of news might have on Rachel’s teacher’s impression of me. “Nothing.” Rachel answered.

But really, I wonder what else seeps into the classroom from our quirky home life. Does anybody know about the game, “Mommy, Mommy, Pants on Fire?” The game that I made up to amuse myself during a late afternoon of a looooog day in the last stretch of summer? A simple game really. Someone holds up a handful of cards. Someone else pulls out a card from the hand and says, “Mommy.” They thoughtfully pull out another card, look at it and say (what do you know) “Mommy.” Then, at the very right moment, they pull a last one out and shout, “PANTS ON FIRE!!!!”

Do they know about that? (Blush)

Do they know that I sometimes give a stern look and say, “You are headed in the right direction for a smack on the bottom” and then grab the daughter in question, put her over my knee, and playfully pat her on the bottom until her tummy hurts from laughter? Or worse yet, have they only heard half of the story? Do they think I just outright smack my girls on the bottom?

(Blush)

Do they know that my daughters are working patiently with me, trying to help me break my addiction to saying “HELL-o” like Mike Myers in “I Married An Axe Murderer.” I say it every time something happens that’s little offbeat. Rachel always smiles, shakes her head and says, “You’ve got to stop saying that” and I nod my head and say, “I know. You got a point there.”

Do they know about that?

And Hannah. At school, does she spout off Music Man references like she does at home? Does she run through the schoolyard holding her finger in the air and shouting, “But he doesn’t know the territory!!” Does she suddenly break into song, singing “Goodnight My Someone” with an exaggerated falsetto? Does she say “Eee gads?” or “Waddya talk?” Does she sing “She-boo-pee?” Does she tell people that she’s Marion, and that they can be the librarian?

Last week while getting Hannah ready for nap, she said “HELL-o” in the Mike Meyer way and I asked her quietly if she ever said that at school.

“No.” she answered, looking a little puzzled. “They don’t know “hello.”

Oh yeah.

I guess that settles that.

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(Hannah this morning) “I don’t want to die like a baddie or a sister. I want to die like a ballerina.”

Why does watching the very beautiful (there is one scene when Charlotte is dying that just takes my breath away) Charlotte’s Web always spark a loss of innocence in my children.

Damn spider.

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A very sad fact: I just spent a half hour searching for a post I wrote more than six months ago. On the post I asked for advice. One thing I asked for was recommendations on bras. I found it again, and am finally sitting down to order a good bra.

(Blush)

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I have no explanation for the fact that I am blogging when I am officially not a blogger anymore.

(Blush)