7 Quick Takes Friday, #48

1. Apparently, I have a problem with music. I can't seem to listen to it lately without causing either myself or my family some sort of harm or confusion. Last week, there was the run in with nasty lyrics, and this week...well this week's offense was a little different.

Justin had just gotten home from work while I finished making dinner. We had some children's music on Pandora (thanks to Gail for the recommendation!) and I was dancing around the kitchen to some funky alphabet song. (Actually it could have been a bird song, for all I remember. The beat was funky, that's all I recall. What happened next has blurred the exact details in my memory; a case of my brain trying to erase the deed from ever happening.)

Bumping and shaking my rear end to the beat, I felt a tap behind me. Knowing the husband was in that general area, I assumed it was him smacking me as he walked past. I, of course, swung my back side into the tap, trying to play along with his flirtation. Except, it wasn't him.

"Sarah!" he blurted. "You just knocked Lauren over!"

Confused, I swiveled around and sure enough: Lauren was sprawled on the floor, staring up at me with worry.

That's right. I'd slammed my hiney into my toddler's head, throwing her to the ground. All for the love of a funky beat.

2. Due to the quickly browning and nearly festering bananas on my counter yesterday, Mia and I made banana bread. (Boy. If that doesn't make you want to be invited over for a fresh, warm slice of bread, nothing will.) But I was puzzled by the recommendation I'd never noticed before at the end of the recipe: Cool and wrap tightly overnight; wait until the next morning to slice the bread. So puzzled was I, that I went ahead and tried a slice to see what the heck they were talking about. It was perfectly delicious. 3 sweet slices later, I'd gathered enough evidence to decide that the recipe was a scam. Nobody should postpone the consumption of warm banana bread.

3. Sunday night, my eyes were so, so ready to be closed for bedtime and Justin was still flipping through our 6 channels. I'd gotten ready for bed and come back to the living room to say goodnight when I saw what he'd clicked to: Masterpiece Theater...Emma...The newest version...One I'd never seen! I was so excited! This one looked really good, with modern production and wonderful actors. But, it was 11:00 at night. I was way past tired: I was dead on my feet. Still, I couldn't tear myself away. Justin went to bed with a promise from me that I'd be right behind him. I kept telling myself I'd stop once I'd seen Emma befriend Harriet. Once I'd seen Mr. Knightly get upset with Emma for meddling in Harriet's proposal. Once Mr. Elton tried to propose in the carriage. Once I'd seen Jane Fairfax. Frank Churchill! Augusta Elton!

I finally gave up after Frank Churchill. Knowing the girls would be awake early tomorrow morning no matter how late I stayed up, I went to bed an hour and a half after I'd intended to. So sad that I'd not been able to watch more.

To my great (disproportionate, astounding) joy, Betty Duffy posted yesterday that the first installment of the movie is available on the PBS website! And I somehow managed to restrain myself until bedtime to finish watching it. So wonderful. Really, I think this newest adaptation is my favorite one yet.

Notwithstanding Clueless, of course. That one is too perfect to be improved upon.

4. This weekend is supposed to be a wonderful one. Tomorrow we've planned to take Mia to the 'bouncy slides!' place as a reward for enough chores and good deeds accumulated on her sticker chart over the last few weeks. (She's been really receptive to the whole sticker chart thing, which I keep meaning to tell you guys more about. Are you interested in hearing more? Or will it bore your retinas off?) Also, we're getting together with a group of several of my high school BFF's and their husbands/babies for a long-time-no-see gathering. I'm so looking forward to this! The only thing is...

Our weather forecast looks like this:

Right above that big '6', covered by the big blue blob, is my house. And scattered within the blue blob's expanse are the houses of all my friends, and the bounce house. Wish us luck. If the party with friends falls through, I'll be sad. But if the bounce house visit falls through, Mia's disappointment will be heard far and wide. Even the silence of newfallen snow won't muffle her sobs.

5. My parents have a dog named Copper. A sweet, loyal dog who thinks he's a strapping, young boy. I went with my dad on an errand last weekend, and the strapping, young boy-dog hopped right into his normal backseat spot. He travels often, too attached to leave my dad's side for long. While my dad ran into a store, Copper and I sat in the truck waiting.

I tried to make conversation. I told him he was handsome. But he studiously avoided me, like he thought I was going to try to kidnap him or something. Never to reunite him with his daddy ever again.

"Copper," I sang. He ignored me.

"Copper!" I demanded. He merely glanced at me from the corner of his disdainful eye.

"Copper, over here buddy," I cajoled. He might as well have put his paw in my face, talk-to-the-hand style. He just wasn't going to acknowledge my presence.

"Copper, why are you so snobby?!" I couldn't believe he was ignoring me!. Then came the ultimate insult:

I'm thinking he doesn't like me.

6. Which brings me to this: I'm not really much of a dog-lover. Copper is sweet (if a bit suspicious) and a really good-natured, smart dog, but I'm always happy to come home to my dogless house. And it's strange because I always had and loved dogs as a child. I think I'm just too unwilling to let an animal take up my ever-decreasing time, and I've never met a dog who wasn't high maintenance. Or maybe it's me who's a high-maintenance pet owner. Whatever the case, I'm happy with our (outdoor, for the love of pete) cat.

What do you find yourself liking more...cats or dogs? And why, pray tell?

7. Mia has this habit of walking through the door and stopping in her tracks to throw off her coat and shoes. Then they're left in a heap right where the rest of us need to walk. I finally got some sort of brain in my head and realized I could just tell her not to do that instead of wait for it to happen and get frustrated about it.

So that's what I did. When you get inside, Mia, please put your coat on the chair and your shoes someplace out of the middle of the floor so we don't trip over them.

She listened.

It might not be exactly what I had in mind, but it's a step in the right direction.

Thanks for shootin' the breeze with me today, and have a gorgeous weekend! Stop over at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes!