Monday, June 8, 2009

Being A Fairy Godmother...

It's kind of like being John Malkovich. But it's not.

What is see is when you have a friend of little religion but huge on all things woodsy and sprite like. A friend who believes in fireplace demons and that chickens should walk amongst us. A friend who home schools, I mean non schools her children but feeds them home made caramels for breakfast. This is the kind of friend whose children you get to be a fairy godmother for. There is no real ceremony for the child but the friend puts you through all kinds of tests. She makes you drive around NYC to every different Whole Foods there is so she can find a candy bar. She waits until there is dead silence in the most boring of anatomy lessons ever given to a group of people til she leans over and says, "Raise your hand. Ask her (the teacher) what kind of body part cooks up best." she does this to see if your laughter can go unheard and unseen. She makes you balance on tightropes and drink out of a trailer park wine bucket all in the name of are you worthy of my children.

I'm not, but I'll take the job anyways just so I can feed them even more candy, get them hopped up on orange juice that has little or nothing to do with juice and ply them with parting gifts.

Scene One:
Twist, Steroid Tom, miniature Twist and the most precious little boy who is pushing three walk in the kitchen. Twist has taught her children and they really believe it that my first and last name are all my first name. It is how they address me every time and with a little British accent even. "Amyshromm."
Precious little boy of almost three points up on my counter to my Grateful Dead psychedelic cookie jar and says in the sweetest little oddly accented voice, "Amyshromm may I please play with that truck?"

so we go up in the playroom to find him some trucks. His tiny little self is following me up the stairs. "Amyshromm it is so quiet up here, I take off my shoes?"

There has never been a politer almost three year old and I thought mine had been good.

Scene Two
There is a big huge sandbox with jungle gym bars in my back yard. I hate it the sand. It was supposed to be rubber mulch. It's stupid.
"Amyshromm? Amyshromm, why does the sand look so odd?"
"Here baby. Eat some more caramel."

Here is the wrapping of the bottle of moonshine Twist brought as a treat. I guess regifting this bag is out of the question?

Here is the lovely packaging of breakfast caramel. Word to the wise: Only put a couple of pieces of salt on it. It should be a warning on the label like when a waiter hands you a hot plate. This isn't one that's fun to figure out on your own. Thanks for that Twisty.


Me perfecting the tight rope walking part of the test


Steroid Tom lying around doing nothing AGAIN


This is what you do when you are wearing a skirt but decide it's time for handstands (please take note, I had on grey). Because this is a totally normal thing to do when you're...ten.



Just for the record, Mickey was a perfect angel. He smelled great! There is no proof otherwise.

Om Om Om Namah Namah Namah Shivay Shivay Shivaya. Three down. One hundred and five to go.

17 comments:

twist said...

Still no comments? Astounding.


Maybe people are afraid of encouraging one of your alters. "Amyshromm" maybe? Because my people were clearly saying "Amy




Schramm." Fairy Godmothers? Fancying yourself a circus performer? And the photoshopping; don't even get me started on the photoshopping! ; )

June 8, 2009 2:31 PM

Amy said...

It is certainly surprising. Who wouldn't understand this? Duh...

Kathy said...

Okay, Okay. I was on the Chesapeake for a sailing lesson. For real. Just got home. I'm reading this before/instead of making my poor starving children their dinner.

Love the caramels for breakfast. "Moonshine" and tightrope is good also. But WTF is Twist - oops, I mean the person not wearing grey - doing? I hear that kind of handstand causes blindness.

lxbck funyp49g said...

sht bjyh ;vbh wpnvryb w;dsgn;osdjtvhx.dfkvotj jnv adivucsfjghq8 sd;otgnvc; nd;ofjvsdo gcha'pez ;sdifgjvn; fnbc8
soi vgjbs;ijvgn[0

twist said...

Oops, forgot to use the Braille keys.

twist said...

Oops, forgot to use the Braille keys.

twist said...

Now, let me set a few things straight. First, I would NEVER do handstands after moonshine. Indeed, Amy has misled her readers on more than one account. You see, in addition to the handstand allegations, the Micken was neither angelic nor sweet-smelling last night. He was covered in some kind of black, sticky, stink. And his pal Lucy was fixin' to power vomit (since she apparently devoured a pound or so of raw chicken that was to be our dinner.) So, you can see, I had reason to grimace and hike up the skirt.

Amy said...

Kathy, you are right that person not wearing grey was displaying some questionable behavior. You know how she is...

Twist, I'm sorry you went blind. Kathy totally warned you.
Do you have proof of the allegations against the Micken? He is lying right next to me and looks perfectly white and fluffy.
Lucy never had an issue. Next time I am going to feed you the raw chicken and see if you can say the same. Ready. Set. Go.
Om. Om. Om. Namah. Namah. Namah. Shivay. Shivay. Shivaya. 6 down, 102 to go...

Christy said...

I'm going to start calling you "Amyshromm" from now on--British accent and all.

Are you sure those were caramels? I can't say I've ever seen that before...and who wouldn't love the re-gifted moonshine bag? That's what I would like to know!

Bretthead said...

多少在上植树造林一个森林轻拍轻拍会如果一个森林轻拍可以扔森林?

Bretthead said...

In case you don't know simplified chinese:

Quanta madeira uma madeira jogaria mandril se um mandril de madeira podia jogar madeira?

Amy said...

阿土拨鼠可以查一塌糊涂负载的木材。你甚至不知道。

Bretthead said...

That's a lot of timber.

Speaking of hummus:

Πιτ Yorn θα θέλαμε να διδάσκουν γιόγκα για την συμμορία των midgets.

Lula! said...

I want your arms. And thighs. And those caramels.

Would yoga give me those arms? I just want to hold them in my hands and feel the firmness.

Do I sound like a porn star? Please forgive me if I do. I just love a good set of firm ones.

That's what she said.


p.s. There's ghosts in my house--they come in from the fireplace, up from the cemetery that's at the edge of our property. No lie.

Sue Jacquette said...

oy.

Kathy said...

Amyshromm-san,

Iay ancay peaksay niay aay oreignfay anguagelay ootay !!!

eahyay emay!

twist said...

Can we move on now? (Except for Lula with the fireplace who makes me sound like a sane person.)