Lord of the Flies

So, I have an assignment due. I have to watch Lord of The Flies. I know...it says something about the higher education system in Utah, when an assignment for a college class is writing a paper on the video Lord of The Flies. But who am I to complain? I never watched this video. Probably because it came out during the time that R rated videos, or PG-13's were expressly forbidden in my world...that, and two sparkly pink earings in each ear.

So now I get to watch this piece and I am sure make some comment about how when people are left to their own devices and there are no social barriers placed on them..no big brother to watch over them..all Hell breaks loose. There is a new book that a friend of mine just got, called The Lucifer Effect, that I have been wanting to read, that speaks to this very issue. I will have to get on that...or watch the movie when it comes out.

I hate that I took this Sociology class online. I mean, I know it's a general class, and if I would have taken it at school it would have been in a giant auditorium with three hundred other kids, but I don't care..I need banter for heaven's sake. Even if it is between the Professor and himself up on stage. I already missed one assignment. I was supposed to do something really socially inappropriate, like sing on an elevator or wear my underwear outside my clothes, and get people's reactions. But I forgot, because I didn't check my computer that day, and I missed it. And I was bummed because that assignment sounded like a lot of fun. I mean, how cool would that be to have an excuse to completely embarrass the living daylights out of Dalton, by singing in public, because it was for an assignment!?

So, I am going to do this assignment..which means I need to do the reading..which means that I will procrastinate and write down every menial thing that I can think of to postpone the inevitable. Let me see...I will start with Garrett.

He is still not saying much. I was starting to worry. I mean, Shelby was practically talking in the womb, and I have no memory of Dalton being "delayed" so when my friends who are speech pathologists start telling me that they like to see two year olds who have fifty words, I am thinking Are you seriously kidding me?...mainly because the chances of Garrett learning 45 words in four months is slim to none. I mean, yes- the kid has some serious talents. Can dance a blue streak all over the house. Can make every animal sound on the planet. Can communicate with you by a complex set of grunts and gestures. But the talking thing..he's just not that interested. He can say Mum. Not Mom. It's the British version. He can say Geck, which can either mean Gecko if he wants to hold that reptile of his brother's, or Yuck if you are offering something which is deems as heinous as in tuna or salmon. He can say Sis to Sis's delight. He can say Da, which can mean Dad or Dalton, depending on who is coaxing him to say it. He can say No and Uh Oh. But fifty. Nope.

So, I made an appointment with the ear doc. Our friends said it could be fluid behind the ears that was causing the delay. Nope. Perfect ears...perfect hearing test. The doc said, "He's the third kid. He's fine." So...I am fine. And lately, he is just a little fun machine. The winter is thawing, and we can go outside more. He stands at the door with Shelby's boots on motioning that he wants to go outside...at 7:00 AM. He is so interested in EVERYTHING. The neighbor's dog, the neighbor kids, our tree, our trash...it's all one big gift. He dances to Barney..thank goodness for that dinosaur. He plays with his trains, and his blocks, and his big LEGO's.

But most of all, more than anything, his fave-or-rite thing in THE WORLD is the gecko. And let me just tell you, that when we bought that scaly little guy for Dalton, four years ago, for $49.00 at PETCO, little did I know the bang that that dude was going to be for my buck.



He is like the gift that keeps on giving. Every so often he resurges as the new "it" thing in our house, and this time around it's with Garrett. So much so, that we had to move him in to Shelby's room because of the ten daily trips that Garrett took in to Dalton's room, to visit the gecko, which almost always led to the ever so-probable scenario where one of Dalton's Star War LEGO ships could have been touched...or looked at. Whatever the case...it was just too big of a risk.

So Gecky got a new home on Shelby's dresser, and now Garrett can wander in and bang on the cage any time he wants. He knows that he can't get the gecko out on his own, despite his best attempts, so he drags you by your finger, in to Shelby's room, and then furiously points at his finger and then at the cage over and over and OVER until you GIVE!...You scream UNCLE..I WILL GIVE YOU THE FREAKING GECKY. Gosh, that poor little object of Garrett's affection. I had to get tough and make Garrett stay seated while holding the little reptile, because Amigo, our cat, started to circle around Garrett as he danced with the gecko hanging precariously from his fingers, just waiting like a piranha, for his tasty snack.

I am happy. I am. I think that we are going to spruce up the house....I hope, I hope, I hope.

Which will include this:

for my countertops. Dare to dream.