The Return of the Lithuanian Spy

When I was in high school, and when I received a phone call at home, I would drag the phone (cord and all) into my bedroom and close the door firmly and sit with my back against the door, to keep out all the people in my house who were dying to overhear my conversations. "Are you conducting secret business in there?" my father asked in reference to this behavior. "Are you a Lithuanian spy?" When the phone rang and it was for me, he would say: "Tell Krista the Lithuanian embassy is on the line!"

Now Mallory, whenever she receives or makes a phone call, immediately ducks into the bathroom with the phone and closes the door. Could it be that this characteristic is inherited? Did she receive it genetically along with my hazel eyes and Chris's long fingers?

She does have it easier; our phones are cordless, at least.

Comments

MomofK9s said…

Actually I would co upstairs to my mom and dad's room and then drag the phone into the bathroom where I sat on the counter and talked...a lot!

9:01 AM

aimee said…

That is cute. Rhett just walks around in circles. All over the house. I think he likes to rub it in that he has a phone call and Noah doesn't.

11:17 AM

I ask you

This is my garden: Or rather, this is the patch of soil that was my garden last summer. It produced millions of tomatoes, dozens of green peppers, a handful of cucumbers, and two puny watermelons. I do not wish to repeat last summer's vegetable bounty, because most of said bounty went to waste. Nor, however, do I want this patch of soil to remain brown and bare throughout the summer, because it's unattractive. So, what do I plant here, in the shrubbery/flowery vein? Keep in mind that I do not have a green thumb. Also, I don't want to spend a lot of money. Also, this area is in full sun most of the day. And it's really hot. And sometimes we get rabbits. Any advice? To thank you in advance, I give you these goofy photos of my children and their homemade parfaits (which Mallory persisted in calling "specialinis").

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...

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