Jump Off, Smackdown & An Open Letter to My Family

Let it be known to all that Mrs. Avery is a better jump roper than Mr. Hayes.

Today at lunch recess Mr. Hayes thought he would be funny and tried to jump rope, two people at a time--himself with a little second grader. He didn't do so well. I believe the two rope twirlers were singing the jump rope song "Texaco Texaco over the hill to Mexico"--Mr. Hayes crashed and burned at "over"; disappointing his jumping partner. So I was like move-over-Mr. Hayes-here-comes-Mrs. Avery. Now mind you I was wearing my wicked black boots with there two and half inch heels. The foot wear was not about to stop me. I did set down the megaphone but kept my walkie talkie in my hand. And...well, I rocked. Two of the second grade teachers watched with smiles on there faces as the two building assistants had there jump off. It was reminiscent of the walk off in the movie Zoolander.

I think I may have to ask Santa to bring me a top of the line jump rope for Christmas...figured out that jump roping is quite the work out.

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M is having her first weekend comedown from the marching band season. She is not thinking, wondering or praying that she catches her sabor or releases her flags at the exact correct point. She is not concerned how she will look in her silver foil costume. Instead she is curled in the leather recliner nearly yelling "this is gonna be great. someone, someone has to come watch this with me!" I don't know... I don't understand... please explain to me...what is the allure in Friday Night Smackdown? I continue to be baffled at the idea that I bore a wrestling loving daughter. Tag team? Undertaker & Batista? Great Kahli & Mark Henry? What is with this stuff? Finally M has found a taker in her quest for viewing company--King Ralph. M has just announced with glee, "tomorrow Wrestlemania tickets go on sale and guess where it is going to be...Orlando". Watch out Disney, move over, Wrestlemania is coming to town.

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Now for my open letter to my family.

Dear Children:
It is quite apparent as I look around the house that is was indeed Halloween this week.

What you ask gives me such an idea? Well now, let me answer that for you all. The Sherlock Holmes hat that was resting on the floor of the front foyer-- till I tossed it down the stairs-- would be a good indicator. Or how 'bout the London Fog trench coat I hung up? Could the Raggedy Ann costume strewn all around the living/dining room be yet another clue? The thing however that is the number one hint would be the never ending candy wrappers. Please take careful note to what I am about to say next...I am not your slave! Which basically means when you leave multiple suckers sticks and wrappers on the glass top of the end table--I see red! When you chose a piece of candy to eat while in the kitchen look around, you are guaranteed to find a trash can close by. A trash can holds trash. Odd I know but it was in fact invented for just that purpose.

So my lovely daughters, I do not care if you think you are princesses, you are not. We do not employ maids or have slave laborers in our home. We are self maintaining. The threat is now being issued here, for all the world to hold me to my promise...one more candy wrapper found lying loosely about and the fruits of your October 31 slogging for treats will be GONE.

Love,
Mutti xoxo