Life is weird

Life is weird. I don’t mean this in the existential way, like it’s so weird that life on Earth grew from nothing, and now we are being hurled through a universe that is so big that the concept of the size of the universe is too big for any one human head to contemplate. I mean that’s all sorts of weird, but it’s not the weird I’m focused on today.

When I say weird, I am talking about your every day, run of the mill odd, unusual, bizarre, wtf-esque. Let’s just start with nature, I grew up in Canada and sometimes wore a hat and mitts mid-October. Last week, however, I was at the beach and my kids were in the sea. I “understand” the science behind why there are different climates and such around the world, but this doesn’t stop it from being weird. I mean, my son is still trying to figure out the whole time zone thing that is flipping him out. I thought he had it some-what figured out until my dad told me he tried to call him at 4 am his time this morning.

Beach Oct 2015

So, back to the weird, last week on some day I don’t remember precisely, just after lunch, I walked into my house after eating outside on the terrace. I think terrace is the right word, it’s definitely not a porch or a deck; it is not a balcony, and it wasn’t a picnic in the garden, so until told otherwise, I will stick with terrace-I also feel it is worth noting that in my head, I read that tear-iss, not terr-ass.

So, I walked inside and found what looked like the outcome of a pillow fight from the movies, because they always have the cheapest quality pillows in the movies, as soon as anyone hits someone else, the pillow explodes in a cloud of feathers. They should seriously talk to whomever buys their pillows and suggest a new supplier, or at least a discounted price. I would go bankrupt if every time I threw a pillow at one of my kids it exploded. For the record, throwing pillows is not a form of punishment, my kids just really like pillow fights.

So, in my living room, feathers everywhere…and a half eaten bird carcass (that I will be pronouncing cark-ass rather than the more traditional car-kus, because it was super gross on top of being weird). The horrifying part was that this was perfectly explainable weird, and it turned out to NOT be the weirdest part of my day. In any case, it would seem my kittens are expert hunters and although I hope I won’t need to clean up their exploits very often, I am feeling positive about our rat problem (which is actually no longer a problem, but with any luck my mega hunters will keep it from happening again).

The weird culminated towards the end of the day, when my little girl was granted 20 minutes of iPad. She has taken a fancy to watching videos of kids playing with toys, and sometimes adults playing with toys. This whole concept of adults playing with toys frankly deserves a whole chapter in this post, but I am not feeling the energy or open mindedness to do justice to a group of adults who take time out of their days to tape themselves playing with toys, while narrating their actions and then posting said videos on the internet. I don’t understand so much about that, that it would read ??????? with a few wtfs and not much more.

So as per the norm, Cutie-Pie started watching a video of a little girl playing with something equivalent to an easy bake oven…in Russian. Yup, Russian. For like 10 seconds, I was concerned about the appropriateness of the language being used because I don’t speak Russian, so I couldn’t tell if they were using profanity or anything. I wish I could say I realised my own stupidity before asking Hubby his opinion, but then I would be lying. Luckily Hubby responded to my question with a crappy joke, so I just made fun of him to get the heat off of me.

Cutie-Pie broke our banter by laughing at her Russian friend and her easy bake oven – apparently it was a really good joke. We spent the next few moments in stunned silence and just before turning off the iPads, we learned that “double cheeseburger” is pronounced “double cheese burger” in Russian, this being a perfectly normal phrase to use when baking.