It’s not mine!

Ah yes, the cry that repeatedly rings through the house, the call of the lazy and unwilling to do for ones self.

And then in frustration you find yourself stuck having to do it yourself while muttering oaths under your breath about what you’ll do with the stuff *next time*.

I think my day today actually started yesterday, that is how hectic things have been.

I pick up the kids at daycare, and as usual it takes no less than 15 minutes to get the seven year old to get her stuff together and out the door.

We’re in the car and the first cry rings out, “I forgot my shirt!”

Send her back in to retrieve her brand new animal sweatshirt that *all* the kids have and they just had to have (lucky for them they actually needed a few sweatshirts and got one).

We get home and as expected, the shoes, backpack, jacket, and sweatshirt go flying to land in a pile of rubble at the front door and she is gone out of sight.

No less than eight times I asked her to pick it up.  Put away the sweatshirt and hang up her jacket and backpack.

And then the nine year old is out of pajamas.  So, I tell her where they are, all freshly washed and folded and waiting to be put away.  At least six times I ask her to put them away, specifying “That means in your drawer not on the floor.”

You guessed it!  This morning they are still sitting exactly where I left them for her to put away.

And then I spot them.  Two school library books tossed carelessly on the floor at the front door where they will be walked on, kicked, and generally abused.

Twelve times I asked. “Who’s books are these?”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Well, they must be somebody’s books.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“They’re school library books – Bone and Bad Kitty.  Someone must have brought them home.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Ok, if nobody wants  them then I guess I’ll get rid of them.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Nobody took them out of the library?  Nobody brought them home?”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“So, if nobody brought them home then I can get rid of them.  I’m tossing them in the garbage.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Ok, so I’m getting rid of the books then, since they don’t belong to anyone at all.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“It’s not my fault if you get in trouble at school.  If nobody brought them home I can get rid of them.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“The school library won’t let you take out any more books if you don’t bring them back, whoever’s they are.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Ok, so Bone and Bad Kitty are nobody’s books?  Nobody at all borrowed them?  Nobody brought them home? They’re nobody’s books?”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

“Ok, so I’m tossing them out then, since they’re nobodies books and nobody wants them.”

“Not mine!”

“Not mine!”

"Ok, here they go, into to garbage.  Bye bye books!”

“Wait!  Don’t throw them out!  They’re mine!”

Well, finally!  That was all I wanted.  Take ownership of responsibility for the books, admit they’re yours, look after them, and put them in your backpack.

Why Telemarketers Get My Goat

What can possibly be more annoying than getting an unwanted telemarketing call?  Just read on and I’ll tell you.

Apparently there is some unwritten rule that they must happen when you are (a) in the middle of eating supper, (b) in the middle of getting your kids to do something important like bathing, (c) on the toilet or in the shower, or (d) any other time it is entirely inconvenient to drop whatever you’re doing to race for the phone.

The Three Annoying Types of Calls:

Generally, we get hit by three main types of calls.

1.            The talks too fast to butt in forcing you to be a rude schmuck and hang up on them calls.

These are the ones who also generally think that any words sounding similar to “No thank you”, “No thanks,” and “I’m not interested” really mean “Oh please please please tell me more.  I’ll just totally die if you don’t go on for another 30 minutes on your products and/or services!”

They also are entirely unable to grasp that “No” means “No” and will try to send or sign you up for crap regardless of how emphatically you say “NO!  NOT!  NO I DON’T WANT YOUR F-ING CRAP!”

And to add that final insult to injury, they take on the injured tone and ask you “Why not?” as if you’d just told someone you don’t want to be their friend after all.

And, of course, some of these are the outright scams like the caller who tells you that they are calling on behalf of your internet provider because your IP address has been used for questionable online activity and you could face legal problems, but its ok because you are probably the victim of a hacker or virus and if you just give them remote access to your computer they can fix it all up (for a fee) ...  yeah, and I’m the  Queen of Sheba too and know darn well they could not possibly be trying to both hack me and bill me for doing it too.

2.            The dead air calls. 

Yeah, we’ve all had those.  You drop everything, dodge kids and dogs, leap over obstacles of toys and laundry baskets in a mad race to catch the phone ... and there’s nobody bloody there!

“Hello?  Hello?” you say, pause and wait.  “Hello?  Is anybody there?”  You pause again, listening for any background sounds, wondering if you just got butt dialed or a friend or relative’s toddler is playing with the phone, or if someone dialed and got distracted.

You half expect to start hearing the laboured heavy breaths of a prank caller or some kid to ask you if your refrigerator is running followed by the warning, “Well then you’d better go catch it.”  Both of which would probably grate my annoyance nerves less than telemarketers intruding into my home via telephone and trying to push crap on me that I don’t want.

And eventually you or they hang up with the sure knowledge burning angrily through you that you just wasted those moments on a freaking telemarketer spam-crank calling you with their automated dialler.

3.            The telemarketing machine calling me because I’m not even good enough for a real person call.

Yeah, it’s frustrating and you ask, “What?! I’m not even good enough for a real person to harass and annoy me?!  You have to send a flipping machine to do your dirty work?!”

But they are, at least, the least annoying of the three.  You don’t feel guilty for hanging up on a machine, and you don’t waste time talking to dead air.

And then things turn from annoying to ugly.

After days of repeated hang-up dead air telemarketing calls at home – one per night every night at about the same time and all originating from a different long distance number ...

... and this despite the fact we are registered on the National Do No Call List ...

I am now getting harassed on my freaking CELL PHONE!

Yep, not only am I now having to drop everything and race to answer the phone (and this is a number that almost nobody has and is used only for calls from immediate family members or for the kids school or daycare to reach me anytime anywhere), but I am now also PAYING PER CALL TO ANSWER AND HANG UP ON A FLIPPING TELEMARKETING AUTO-DIALLING ANSWERING MACHINE!

To top it off, I’m not on an unlimited monthly plan or anything like that.  I’m paying prime $$$ for those handy but expensive per minute pre-paid minutes that are more economical for people like me who rarely use their phone.  And if this keeps up, I’ll have to go buy more minutes because they’re getting used up a telemarketing pre-recorded auto-dialling machine.

You got it!  I’m paying to be annoyed and harassed by a machine spewing out a pre-recorded message!

Silly me, I thought since cell phones cost the consumer money every time they answer it, they were legally off limits to telemarketers calls.

Apparently Air Miles Canada (or so the recording claims to be) has a very important message that I need to spend $$ just to listen to.

I wonder if they get a cut from the cell phone company.

Anywho, while I have to chose between turning off my cell phone and missing an important call from my kids’ school or daycare or wasting my money hanging up on telemarketing machines, I have added the cell to the do not call registry – for what its worth.

Since they’re calling me at home too and I’ve had that phone on the list for a few years now, I already know the registry only works for the ones who chose to follow the rules.

Labour Day Camping and Itsy Bitsy Creepy Crawly Things

It's the Labour Day long weekend, the last long weekend of summer, and I we did it single-married-parent style.

Camping with the girls this weekend started with a bang.  Okay, maybe a lot of bangs.

With ...

- some shrieks and screams

- a lot of Raid

- calls for help

- a seven 7r old girl grumbling “all right, where is it?  I’ll get it

- frantic emptying the counter, more Raid

- 7 yr old declaring “oh, its one of those ones.  Those are the bad ones!”

- a Kleenex box (not the Kleenex tissue)

- EEKK!  It’s dropping to the floor!

- grab a shoe!  No not my shoe!  Scrap the shoe, we have no daddy shoes!

- demand to know where there’s a cop with a gun when you need one

- mashing it into the wall in the corner with Kleenex box – omg not working!

- 7 yr old and me mashing it into the wall in the corner with the broom handle about 2000 times

- 7 yr old inspects “Yep, it’s mushed into the wall” and returns to her movie

- another scream

- ZOMBIES!  It’s alive!  Zombie spider!  It’s gone!

- 7 yr old rushing to the scene too late

- smushed it with a shoe

- “Aw mom!  Not my shoe!  Spider guts on MY shoe?!  Clean it off!”

- “No way, you clean it.  It’s your shoe!”

- indignant 7 yr old, “It’s your mess, it’s your problem.  You clean it.”

- grudgingly go outside to wipe shoe on ground.

- We high-5, do the dance, girl power!  OOOAH  OOOAH OOOAH!

- 7 yr old makes me carry her back to bed (wait a minute!  I’m juggling one de-spider gutted shoe, a broom, flashlight, and a 7 yr old?!

... and girls rule and spiders drool.  We killed the beast and lived to tell the tale and I had to scrub the entire stove and counter top.

The 9 yr old pointedly ignored us through the entire ordeal and will probably deny any relation to us in the future.