Stow-away

Stealth, incognito.

When Stealth learned we were heading out tomorrow morning for the Grand Canyon he only had one thought: stow-away.  Fueling this crafty choice was his desire for world domination; after all, one cannot dominate if one never gets out from beneath a twelve-year-old's bed.  Never mind that the dust bunnies under there are extraordinary.

So Stealth is coming along, and just like every other trip we take, you'll experience a blogging black-out while we're away.  Two reasons for that, actually.  First, my husband will not tolerate me hovering over a computer when there are sights to see and conversation to be had and second, Stealth Panda has indicated he cannot possibly travel without an entourage to document his every move and schedule his appearances.

As we cannot possibly afford an entourage, he'll have to settle for moi.

While I'm out and about, check out this week's blog tour stops (hosting on Thanksgiving Day, no less!):  Andi's Young Adult Books and Welcome to my World of Dreams.

Thanks!  See you Sunday night . . . . unless Stealth achieves his life-long goal to dominate the world.

stealth panda

Stealth Panda in his Element

Having returned to my weekly routine of work, writing, cooking, and the occasional diversion of laundry or a good book, I've resume my search for a worthy substitute for Xavier, the French Bulldog who will one day enjoy world domination, but whom for the moment isn't born, and therefore cannot dominate anything.

Today my quest led me to my daughter's room, where I often find Stealth Panda under the bed and foraging for dust bunnies.  Stealth and I go way back, eleven years this month.  He is the notorious stuffy favorite; the friend whose faux French accent calms the turbulent waters of my daughter's childhood angst: the tears, the distress, the all-around disgruntlement.  No matter what her mood, Stealth Panda and his crafty ways can fix it.

Is she mad at me?  Stealth has a rude joke for that.

Is she distressed over a friend?  Stealth's lack of hygiene makes her smile.

Has her dad turned an unfeeling shoulder to her tender estrogen?  Again?  Stealth will pester her until she laughs.

Like quantum physics, Stealth Panda has never failed me.  So beginning tonight, I'll launch him into the uncharted waters of world domination.  Everything will go just fine, I'm sure.  Unless he meets up with that radioactive stuffy from Imagine Dragons . . . .

perhaps the world IS mad

plastic animals could achieve world domination, but choose not to

I'm not a Saturday-night blogger.  I couldn't tell you exactly why, except to say that world domination isn't appealing on the weekends.  It's not laid-back enough.  I'd rather veg.  So last night I rented an oldie-but-goodie, Mad Mad Mad World, thinking my daughter would get a kick out of people like Ethyl Merman and Spencer Tracy and that one guy, Jimmy Durante.  Not to mention Buddy Hackett and a lot of other old-time favorites.

Nope.

Turns out, slap-stick humor isn't for today's rising generation--unless it involves body-function jokes, the martial arts, and/or a lot of super-hero action (think the Hulk abusing Loke in the Avengers).  If I misspelled Loke I apologize, but it's still the weekend and apparently I'm too lazy to look it up.

To amuse herself, my daughter whipped out her DS and began battling Pokemon.  She eventually drifted into her bedroom, claiming an extreme and extenuated need to skype with a friend.  My husband stretched out on the couch and began to snore.

So I finished watching Mad Mad Mad World all on my own.  The movie is almost three hours long, BTW, and contains an intermission cue (music and all).  I stuck it out, because I already know.  Once I've finished saving for Xavier, the French Bulldog, my own world will be made insane as I potty train, rescue various shoes and furniture legs from teething drool, and walk said Xavier in minus thirty degree blizzards.  But the rewards of owning a fine and furry friend are vast.  I mean, I'm pretty sure a super-cute bulldog, when properly photographed, can dominate the world.  Unless he/she/it disgraces his/her/itself by pooping in the neighbor's yard.

Ah.  Now my daughter's laughing . . . .