Lark's Dating Service

Dear Mother Nature,


I think that your phone must be disconnected, your email box full of spam, and your Facebook account has been deleted. Otherwise how could you NOT NOTICE that we are not pleased with your continuing relationship with Old Man Winter. 


Lady, it is past time for you to end this fling. MOVE ON. In fact, I think it is time for a dance card full of dances with someone with a little spring in his step. 


Shivering, 
Lark

Oryctolagus cuniculus is no friend of mine

Dear Baby Rabbit,


You may have not heard about my bad attitude today. You probably didn't know that I was upset and sad and mad and in need of some glimmer of happiness. I imagine (since you are not my friend on Facebook) that you were not aware that I was going out to the farm with the express purpose of seeing YOU and getting a large dose of cute and cuddly and warm fuzzy feelings. 


But your reaction to me was inexcusable. INEXCUSABLE, I say. 


Seriously, I was gently cradling you in my hands, cooing and smiling and softly petting your adorable little ears. The warmth of your soft fur was slowing softening the hurt in my heart. I was smiling. I was finally relaxing. I was having a wonderful moment of cuteness therapy.


And then you had to go and ruin it. 


Thank you so much for peeing all down the front of my shirt. I had no idea that baby bunny bladders were so large. 


(Even that alliteration doesn't take the sting of the situation away. And I love me some alliteration.)


Thinking that karma has something against me,
Lark 

Unnessary

Dear World,


You may not know this, but my daddy is an inventor. He can grab some things out of his stash of treasures and turn it into a something useful. Recently he made extensions for his truck mirrors out of the bottom of crutches. Sometimes I wish I could see the possibilities in a pile of junk. I have accumulated quite the impressive pile in my attempts to be more like him. But it still just looks like junk to me. 


While I may not be an inventor, I can tell you about a two things that would be bad inventions. 




1. The Barf-O-Matic Alarm


Pros:
The sounds of retching quickly awaken and rapidly deploy all mommies


Cons: 
~Messy to use. 
~Cause much extra housework which causes more exhaustion.
~After the initial surge of adrenaline, sleep quickly returns. 
~Occasionally the snooze button feature works, but is irregular (and unwelcome) in nature. 
~Does not seem to work on daddies. 


All attempts of utilizing this device with the daddy backfired with duplicate "alarms" from the daddy. Any and all experiments have been terminated. 

2. The Awaker Dog; a dog alarm clock

Pros:

Effective in its persistent volume

Cons: 

~No snooze button.

~No off button. 

~No way to set the time that it would start "alarming". 

~No way to set it to not "alarm" on Saturday. 

I have confirmed these conclusions thru lengthy research. My neighbors kindly supplied the Awaker Dog for the test trials. I am currently working on another invention, "The Awaker Dog Silencer .22" with encouraging results.

Wishing I was still sleeping,

Lark

Insert Eye Roll Here

Dear Mom,

Now that I am a mom of my own, I can understand why you told us certain things.

Watch for cars as you ride your bike down the street. 

Obvious.

Wash your hands before dinner.

 Of course.

Wait until your father gets home. 

Been there, said that.

You taught us so many things; 

a love of reading, learning, (for some of us) a love of the great outdoors, to love Jesus, to be witty, to rope, to laugh, to love family.

But there are a few things I still don't understand.

1. Nothing bad happens if I lift the lid while the rice is cooking. For years I was sure it would mean the imminent demise of the world as we know it. 

NOTHING HAPPENS.

2. Saying the word "fart" is acceptable in polite (ish) society. I obey when told to respect my elders and I don't want to be eaten by bears (remember when you told us that story?!). 

Because I fear for my very life, I will not publish your replacement word for that bodily function. I still remember the day I realized that 

NO ONE,

 not one other family, used your word. Probably the first time I realized I was 

weird. 

(No worries, Mom, it certainly wasn't the last time and you were not the sole reason for that state of my being. Dad helped, too.)

3. Calling someone a jerk was not allowed, but calling them a "muscle spasm" was?

4. Seriously cookies DO need the amount of sugar called for in the recipe. Yes, they do.

Whole wheat does not belong in cake.

 As much as you want to fool yourself, there was no fooling us. 

We were just desperate. So we ate them.

5. The verdict is still out on whether or not I will go to hell for dancing and playing cards. Guess we'll see whose right on that one later. 

See ya in heaven - wanna play Texas Hold 'Em there?

6. So far no one has died of typhoid from my messy bedroom. Twenty years later and it pretty much looks the same. Sorry about that.

I always thought that when I grew up I would finally understand all that you taught us. I'm all grown up. When does the Great Enlightenment finally come?

Until then I'll be perfecting my eye roll,

Lark

P.S. I used my creative license in taking or ignoring your corrections on the first draft. Whatcha gonna do about it? Spank me?

Ode to Toilet Paper

Dear Toilet Tissue, 


I was noticing on your packaging that you tout that you are "hypoallergenic" and "dermatologist approved".


Does that mean some toilet paper is allergenic and dermatologist deplored?
Do I really need to start reading labels on my TP? 


Warning: This paper made out of peanuts, pet dander, and/or rag weed.


Warning: This paper made at a facility that may also process stinging nettles, poison ivy, and itching powder.


Thanks for stating the obvious, 
Lark

Irony

Dear Blog, 


Is it just happenstance or is it deliberate maliciousness on your part? Don't you find it a little ironic that the words that you have highlighted by a larger font in my 
Labels column  Look over there -------------------------}                                                             
are "food" and "sarcasm"? 


What are you trying to tell the world?


Thinking you may know me too well, 
Lark

OldLadyitis

Dear Universe,


You must think that you are a riot. Ha. Ha. I am so not laughing at this twist of fate.


Due to increasing gas prices, we purchased a van to replace the Suburban-beast. And the van we could afford? A GMC Safari.


Ok, I think, ok, so it's a little boxy. Not fun or sexy.
Boring brown.
Like driving a brick with wheels.


But I can get past all of that. For the sake of my wallet.


But I blithely ignored all the warning signs. The boxiness. The glaring lack of visual appeal.


I ignore the fact that it has a CD left in the player - it's the best loved songs of Bill and Gloria Gaither. 

I ignore that it came with a handicap sticker.


But I cannot ignore the fact that I am a woman of average height and I have to stoop to see out of the windshield. Let me expound. 


When I am one of the first 2 cars at a stoplight, I have to BEND DOWN to see if the light is changing. It appears that the optimal viewing height through this van's windshield is 1.5 inches above the steering wheel. 


I am now the proud owner of a old lady car. 


Ha. Ha.


Turning in my Young Mom card for an Old Lady membership, 
Lark

Refrigerator Racism

Dear Refrigerator, 
What's up with the segregation going on inside your doors? Haven't you heard that it's the 21st century? Who died and made you the boss of things?! Maybe my fruits and veggies don't want to be separated any longer. Maybe they want to hang out together. Who are you to force them to be apart? And what about those weird vegetables that are really fruit, like tomatoes and avocados? Where do they fit in, in your segregated little world? It is long past time for you to do your part in not condoning or encouraging xenophobia. 


Can't we all just get along, 
Lark

TV Commercials

Dear TV Commercials, 
You assure me that happiness can be found in the bottom of a Happy Meal box, at Golden Corral, and in a heartburn free day. I think that if I were to participate in finding happiness at McDonalds and Golden Corral I would not be having a heartburn free day. So what is it? 
Feeling conflicted, 
Lark