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Fabio the Hamster

By conversations, fabio the hamster, little cousins 7 Comments

Sammy: “Make sure Fabio doesn’t get out.”

Me: “That’s his name?”

Sammy: “No, that’s his nickname.”

Me: “Oh.”

Sammy: “His real name is Boots.”

I watch to make sure Fabio/Boots doesn’t get out until Sammy gets back from the bathroom.

Sammy: “FABIO! What are you doing?  Bad!”

Me: “What did he do?”

Sammy: “Awww, look at his pokey pokey head! Aww, he’s lookin’ out!  Awwww!  BAD FABIO!  What are you doing?  Stop kicking your food.  You need to be punished!”

She takes out the hamster and tosses it up in the air a few times.

Me: “We used to do that to my friend’s hamster.”

Sammy: Laughs

Me: “It died.”

Sammy: “WHAT? How?  How did it die?  Oh, FABIO.  Kiss, kiss Fabio.  Aren’t you glad I feed you?  Go in your hole.  Night night, Fabio!”

Me: “I thought his name was Boots.”

Sammy: “Fabio.”

Saturday Night Panties

By conversations, little cousins No Comments

Tonight Kristin and I got paid $25 each to sit around watching Reel Big Fish videos on my laptop and get mooned by Franky in the kitchen while we made fun of his panties. It all started when I told him to go downstairs and get into his pajamas. He said, “I’m gonna get a big t-shirt from up here and wear it. I’ll leave my underwear on.”

“Oh, keeping your panties on tonight?” I joked.

“PANTIES!” he replied. “I don’t wear panties!”

By the time we got downstairs to pop in a movie, he was throwing himself around the kitchen in an oversized Keds t-shirt with his hair in a little ponytail (which later turned into a mohawk) on top of his head screaming, “They’re not panties!” We started calling him Franky Panties and FrankBob PantyPants. Soon, every time we even mentioned the word panties he’d just pull them down and show us his little Franky butt.

Then, while Kristin and I were enjoying some milk and cookies, he said the stupidest thing I heard all night. “Back one time when I was three, I did poops and I forgot to wipe and a half hour later, I was itching my rear end like crazy!” This resulted Kristin falling to the kitchen floor practically in tears as milk flew out of my mouth and Franky turned bright red and pulled his shirt up over his head.

We finally calmed down and Franky grabbed onto me pleading, “Can we please start the movie now?”

“Whoa there!” I said, “Find the remote and start it. No sense getting your panties all in a bunch over it. Calm down.”


A trip to the mall

By conversations, las vegas, little cousins, shopping 12 Comments

We all piled into the truck this morning for a trip to the mall – me, three cousins, Aunt Kim, and three next door neighbors. Before I could say, “Wow, I’ve never been to the mall with this many people before”, we split up into three groups – Kristin and her friend, Aunt Kim and the neighbors’ mom, and me and the three youngest girls.

I followed Courtney, Sammy, Amy as they ran (literally) to Hot Topic. Perhaps the last thing you would expect to hear in Hot Topic is three girls shrieking, “Let’s go build a bear!”, but I guess anything is possible. I pleaded with them to buy CDs or something instead, but they insisted on paying the Build-A-Bear Workshop a visit.

As we walked toward Build-A-Bear, I tried to ignore their attempts to go up the down escalators and down the up ones. Once we reached Build-A-Bear, the girls couldn’t afford to make bears anyway. I consoled them and let them know that we still had 35 minutes left for them to waste their money on something else. We ended up in the candy store instead where Sammy purchased two Beanie Babies and Courtney bought two packs of bubblegum cigarettes, a bubblegum cigar, and a bubblegum yardstick. Yes, a bubblegum yardstick.

We proceeded to consume the bubblegum yardstick as we headed back towards the food court to meet up with everyone else. I lagged behind a little, blowing bubbles, wondering when the last time I had a real piece of bubblegum was – real bubblegum, not the sugarfree crap. It must have been years ago when we used to buy BubbleTape from the ice cream man and play street hockey with the empty containers.

I contemplated intervening when they started wacking each other in the head with the three foot box that the bubblegum came in. A grumpy old woman took care of that for me though – when they started hitting each other while walking down an up escalator. “You girls better stop that. I’ll tell the guards on you.” Bitch. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of that threat.

When we met back up with my aunt, Sammy threw a small fit about the bear (which I missed because I was busy removing the remnants of a large bubble from my face) resulting in $100 being handed off to me to take the girls back to the Build-A-Bear place. Great. So, we trekked all the way back to Build-A-Bear while I explained that they were only allowed to spend $20 each on a bear. I could swear they nodded in agreement, but I guess Sammy forgot by the time we arrived back at the store.

Here is what followed between Sammy and I:

“How about this puppy? I want this one.”

“Sammy, that puppy is $18. If you get it, you won’t be able buy any outfits for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have $20 to spend.”

“No, you have a hundred.”

“Right, but your mom said $20 each.”

“She won’t care.”

“Sammy, just get the $10 bear like you said you were going to. Please?”

“How about this cat bear?”

“It’s a leopard. It’s $25, kiddo. You can’t do it.”

“I can. You have a hundred. My mom would let me.”

“Give it to me.” (I point at the leopard.)

“This?” (She holds it up.)

“Yes.” (I take it and throw it back in the bin. I walk over to the $10 bear bin.) “Make this one or don’t make one at all.”

“How about that duck?”







“BEAR. Take it and stuff it. Now.”

(She stomps her foot and tilts her head in a huff, but realizes I’m not kidding and grabs the bear.) “FINE.”

Meanwhile, Courtney and Amy are trying to decide on outfits for their bears. Courtney asked me to find a Marine uniform for hers and she named it Franky – it was totally cute. Sammy was a bit more indecisive while picking out clothes.

“Can I get this?” (Holds up a shirt.)


“Okay, but it needs pajamas, too. I need to dress it in pajamas every night before bed.”

“No. Come on. You hardly spend thirty seconds brushing your teeth before bed. You think you’re going to change this thing’s clothes every night? Right. Get a grip, kiddo. One outfit.”

“I need TWO.”



“Sammy. Good lord. You’re already going to go over your $20 limit. Just please pick an outfit.”

“How about this one? Can I get underwear? It needs socks. Can I get a hat?”

“That’s cute. You don’t need underwear or socks. You want shoes?” (I cringe, realizing I shouldn’t have asked.)

“Ooh, YEAH. Shoes.”

“Put the hat back then.”

“Okay.” (She picks out shoes – Skechers – for the bear.)

Then we sit down at the computer, name it, get its birth certificate, etc.

“What outfit did Courtney get?”

“The Marine uniform. Are you sure you want to name it Bob?”

“I want a hat like Courtney’s.”

“Well, her hat came with the outfit. Bob? Are you sure?”

“Is there a hat like that?”

“The Navy one has the same hat. Are you sure you don’t want to name the bear Garrett or something? Just Bob?”

“Can I get a different outfit?”

“Oh, Sammy. Bob it is. Push the green button. Do you want the Marine one?”

“Courtney? Can I get the same outfit as you?”

We eventually made it out of the store with two teddy bear Marines and Amy’s naked bear and headed back to the food court for pizza which is another story all in itself.

On the ride home, we stopped at a red light next to these two crazy teenage guys in a yellow Lancer rapping to some wacky music thinking that only my aunt and her friend were looking at them. Once we rolled down the windows and they realized they had an audience of eight, they did a double-take and sped off. Of course we caught up to them blasting Good Charlotte and Sugarcult in the truck, all singing along at the top of our lungs like lunatics and waving the bubblegum yardstick box out the windows. We definitely frightened the security gate guy on the way back in.

A Musical Argument

By conversations, music 5 Comments

I downloaded this Good Charlotte song, “Hold On”, because I heard it on the radio this afternoon during my bath and decided that I liked it. Stephen walked in on me listening to it and decided to give me his expert opinion:

“MTV is controlling your brain!”

“I don’t watch MTV.”

“That’s not the point. The point is… You’re just… You have… You’re such a poser!”

“What I am I posing as?”

“You pretend to be all in on the punk and emo scene and you buy this Von Dutch gear and you’re just not.”

“Stephen. What?”

“You’re just ridiculous. And then you see that MxPx is opening at the Simple Plan concert and you suddenly become their biggest fan.” (I bought tickets to see Simple Plan at the House of Blues to surprise my two cousins in Las Vegas — if they’re reading this, they better act surprised anyway!)

“Stephen, I bought the Simple Plan tickets to take our two little cousins to see them. I figured if I spent the money and MxPx was gonna be there, I’d listen to some of their shit before I went. No?”

“I’m going to write about this in my LiveJournal and all my friends are going to make fun of you.”


“And you listen to Dashboard Confessional!”

“So do you!”

“Yeah, but…  You don’t even like it.”

“I wouldn’t listen to it if I didn’t like it.  You think I listen to music I don’t like in the privacy of my own room to give the impression that I want to be ‘all in on the punk and emo scene’?  You’re nuts.  You told me to listen to Dashboard Confessional.  You said I’d like them.  You loaned me the CD to put the songs on the computer!”

“Well, why’d you buy a Von Dutch hat?”

“Because Brian Conover has one.”

“That’s why?”

“No, you dumbass.  Because it’s pink, and I like it, and it’s cute.”


“What does the trucker hat have to do with the song?”


“Bite me.”


“Get out.”

What seems to be the problem here? Do I need to pick one genre of music and be obesessed with it for the rest of my life? The best thing about MP3s is being able to download whatever songs I want. I can honestly say I listen to just about anything and everything. Am I a poser because I have a Kenny Chesney song on my computer and think cowboy hats are cute? Am I a poser because I listen to Israel Kamakawiwo’ole and enjoy eating pineapples? I must have multiple poser personalities…