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Showing posts with label Purple Cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Purple Cat. Show all posts

Sunday, April 15, 2007

What's new pussycat?
Woah, Woah
What's new pussycat?
Woah, Woah
Pussycat, Pussycat
I've got flowers
And lots of hours
To spend with you.
-- Tom Jones "What's New Pussycat?"

Kate: "Mommy, Daddy, I wan' a boat for my birfday."

India: (big sigh) "Katie, we can't buy you a boat...we don't have enough wrapping paper to cover it up."


The Geat Belated Birthday Extravaganza was Saturday, and despite a cake CATastrophe (sorry; couldn't resist) it was great fun. Check out the purple wombat. The only thing that could have made the cake more hideous was a flesh wound, and the cat/wombat received a slashed throat as I removed it from the fridge. Not as visible in the photo, but trust me...almost an R rating for excessive and gratuitous violence. Never was I so sorry for cherry insides!

Both Short People have adored Eric Carle's "Brown Bear" book, and Katie P. particularly loves the purple cat. Thus the inspiration for the party. My apologies to Mr. Carle...the cake is heinous but the compliment remains. I'm planning to write Mr. Carle a little note to thank him for all his books, but expecially this one. When India was in the Children's Hospital for a week at 6 months of age that book soothed her like nothing else. We didn't even need the book itself...I could recite it by heart and calm her instantly. Thank God for Eric Carle's special magic. I promise, I won't scare him by sending him a shot of the wombat.

Desipite the nasty cake we had a great time. We were all to reconvene at the Mason's house for Ellie's 6th birthday party on Sunday, but the weather had other ideas. We've had so much rain from the Nor' Easter that Ellie's parents driveway is impassable. We have enormous flooded spots in the yard but NO LEAKS in the walls, which is a feat, believe me.
Tracy and I passed the unexpected free time by reading the local paper. Janice, look what was published just for our amusement; another "Giz" installment! Tracy, myself, my friend Janice, and perhaps three quarters of the residents of the Easern Shore enjoy the twice-yearly poems for "Giz". Do you think his spouse understands slang?