Binta Hits the Big 04!

Four years ago, I achieved the greatest feat of my life. I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. My labor - a miserable, vicious period of discomfort - lasted a full 24.5 hours, with the last 2 hours being consumed with active pushing, alternating with vomiting.

I had some kind of freak type of "morning sickness" that lasted every damn day, every damn hour, for the full 9 months. Eventually, I had been prescribed a medication that prevented me from puking every hour, on the hour, and I am greatly in debt to the makers of that miraculous drug. During the labor, however, all bets were off, as the medication had no power during the transformation my baby was making to the outside world.

It's difficult enough to push a human being out of your body, but it just seems to be cruel and unusual punishment to have to spend the time in-between contractions vomiting into a dish held at your chin by a nurse. Other women use that time to rest before the next contraction arrives. My mind kept busy by fantasizing about a tall glass of ice water and a cold, cold, shower.

Four years later, I'm focused on the cold beer that I'll get to enjoy after Binta's "My Little Pony" party.

Preparations began with the My Little Pony invitations, filled out and mailed. My clever contribution to the Event of the Year was to use my school overhead projector to blow up an image of a Pony for a riveting game of "Pin the Tail on the Pony."

How do you follow an act like that?

With a pinata!

Please note that the pinata in the photo is not a genuine "My Little Pony" pinata. The store we went to didn't have any, but this white horse-shaped form with rainbow strands of crepe paper for a mane and tail seemed to be a logical substitute. I saw the slightest hint of a spoiled teenager as she wrinkled her nose and pointed out the obvious to me:

"That's not a My Little Pony pinata."

My response:

"Of course it's not! You don't expect the real My Little Pony to let herself get strung up just so we can beat the crap out of her for our amusement, do you? This is the My Little Pony stunt double. She's been specially trained to get beat with a bat after having her belly loaded with candy."

What Do You Do the Day After You Find Maggots in Your Cupboard?

You scour your house - top to bottom. Twice.
















Now does that look like a kitchen that had been providing both room and board to a sack of maggots only 14 hours earlier?

The house has been fully sanitized, and I'm sleeping better at night. I do thank those of you who have contributed your own personal tales of horror. Keep 'em coming!

The Post I Hope My Mom Doesn't Ever Read

Warning: This post contains contents of a highly disturbing nature. The reader is hereby advised to skip this post entirely.

It seems that we've noticed a lot of little gnats in our house recently. Actually, I hadn't been convinced that we had an excessive amount living with us. I wondered instead if my highly sensitive entomologist roommate (Binta) was just making a big deal about the same 3 or 4 guys. Three or four seems like a manageable number. I'm sure I could find that many in any given home.

But that foolish attempt to self-deceive ended the moment I happened to open the cupboard this evening to put a measuring bowl away. Now, those three or four have been joined by a colony of gnats. It's a problem now.

Just so my reader doesn't lose faith in me at this point, I'd like to remind him or her of several things:

• I've never forgotten to pay my rent.
• I've never forgotten a student's report card.
• I've never forgotten my child at the grocery store.

But I did forget about a 5 pound bag of russett potatoes in the back of my cupboard.

Instantly, my olfactory senses detected the problem. As I lifted the dripping (yes, dripping!) bag out of the cupboard, the gnats (or maybe they're not gnats, after all...I'd rather not know, at this point) flew in all directions, clearly angered and disturbed by my inconsiderate act. The bag felt dense and pudgy in my hand - distinctly wrong, not at all what a sack of potatoes should feel like.

I knew enough to get the rotting 5 pound corpse of rancid potatoes out of my house immediately. As the sack skulked on the concrete, I warned Binta to stay back.

Although I didn't know the horror we were about to witness. I should have had her run back in the house and lock the door and put her head under her pillow and start praying to god.

Instead, I leaned in with the scissors, so that I could slice open the bag to get the exceptional camera shot. My hand poised above the muck, I suddenly sensed movement coming from inside the bag.

There was something moving inside the bag.

I looked closer and retched with repugnance. Yes, if you haven't yet figured it out: Maggots. Maggots in the bag means there were MAGGOTS in my house!

I'm still a little shaky from the events of this evening, and feeling a little reluctant to go to sleep in the house. However, I wonder if perhaps I'm being too hard on myself?

I'm going to tell myself that this kind of thing is common, and has happened to many others. In the comments section below, I'd appreciate you sharing a time when you found maggots in your house. Make something up if you have to. Please.

Heaven: 1000 4th Ave, Seattle WA

If you were suddenly abandoned on a desert island, what would you take?

I'd take the Central Branch of the Seattle Public Library. Now it's no secret that I like the library, but wow. This library defies description. Check out this little slide show. If you haven't been there yet, I encourage you to visit. I'll be in the living room.