funny farm

i live in a funny farm and there's nowhere else i would rather be.

for starters, my mom is dr. doolittle incarnate--she talks to her dogs and our house cat... sometimes she sings to them. other times, well...better if you could hear her. i often tell her that she might get the surprise of her life when her dogs answer her one of these days.

"cedric, (or chester or curtis or amy or vanna) didn't i tell you that one bark is enough?!? more than one bark is too much!" i'm trying to imagine how a dog would control its bark to just one "whoaarrfff!". i couldn't, but it makes me laugh.my husband on the other hand talks to his plants. and his flowerhorns, too. tells them to behave while he's gone. ever seen a cactus in her bestest manners? or a flowerhorn sitting in the corner of an aquarium, behaving?

weekends are always a treat. my mom and husband debates on anything under the sun... or roof, for that matter. but don't get me wrong--they also laugh most of the time. my mom is a mom through and through for she always has a reminder for everything we ever do, or a suggestion for a better way of doing what we do. the ratio of words output would be 20:1, with mom on the lead and always on the advantage.

my son is the soft-spoken one. a soft-spoken great escape artist. he'll be there one minute and gone the next. there were even times he disappeared in the middle of my sentence and would return home in the middle of the night or early morning. when asked where he had been to, his usual response would either be "just a few blocks from here..." or "practicing with the band". he's a sweet kid, though. never forgets my birthday, greets me every mother's day, valentines, christmas... i think he got that from his dad. he's my big taz. you should see his room.

every afternoon i come home to a living room with scattered feeding bottles, toys, baby powder, bottles of lotion, baby oil, combs, pillows, hair clip... amateur handiwork of little ayel, our baby taz. everything she grabs, she puts in her mouth. and she loves paper--she would rip wallpapers off the wall, shred them to bits and leave a trail for us to follow. i would often find her under the sofa, lost in her thoughts. makes me wonder what she's planning to do next.

as for me, i believe i am the anointed arbiter of our herd, content just to stand in the middle. sometimes at the back. at times from the side. come to think of it, i stand in all directions.

there is nothing more i want to do at the end of the day than to rush home to these sometimes crazed and funny people who keeps my world alive. just the sound of their voices assure me that everything is just as it should be.