So first of all, I have to tell you about what happened with the deer. There were about six deer milling around in my front yard the other day. I don't care if deer want to hang out in the front yard. I'm deer-tolerant. But Tchai? My freaked out little dog? She is pretty sure the deer are murderous rapist communists who just insulted her mother.
So the ridiculous pup was barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarking, and I tried to gently redirect her by bellowing "SHUT UP, RIDICULOUS DOG!" but that didn't seem to help, somehow.
So fine. I went outside to shoo the deer away, opening the door about an inch and a half wide and slithering through the opening while I nudged an enraged ball of fluff and fury away with my foot. She really wanted those deer.
Once outside, I made shoo-ing noises at the deer, and most of them turned and trotted away, alarmed. But one of them, a doe that was just settled in for a nice snack of lawn, just turned and gave me the most disgusted look before turning back to eat. It was exactly the look my middle school nemesis Joyce used to give me. I clapped my hands, waved my arms, grabbed a stick and pounded it against the ground, and tossed a golf ball near her (not AT her, near her). Nothing. Finally, I went down the steps onto the lawn, clapping and yelling and generally looking like an insane person.
Did I mention I was in my jammies still? Because of course I was in my jammies.
Finally, the deer turned and ambled away. I'm pretty sure she was muttering something about being done here anyway.
"You know you can MOVE a little FASTER," I bellowed after her retreating butt, "that's JUST RUDE."
From across the yard, behind the trees, I heard the voice of my very sweet neighbor. She must have been playing with her dogs in her yard.
"I'm...sorry?" she called back, sounding a little afraid.
So yeah. Sadly, it's not even the stupidest thing I've done recently. I'm just sharing it with you so I can share what happened the next day.
I was puttering around in the kitchen, probably trying to remember how to pour coffee (because morning), and getting Sophia's lunch packed for school. I noticed that she was still not dressed and downstairs, despite the fact that I'd woken her up twenty minutes ago. Theoretically woken her up.
I called up the stairs, "HEY, KID! Get moving!" To add to the whole rousing feel of my words, I clapped a few times.
"MOM," she bellowed back, "I'M NOT A DEER."