From the Vault: Experiment log, June 17th, 2005

By Graysen Riedel
Age 12 months, 13 days

1. If you dip your sister’s Powerpuff Girls sock in the toilet and then suck on it, Mommy will tell you that this is socially unacceptable behavior and remove you from the bathroom.

2. If you suck on a piece of dog food and then put the piece of dog food in the empty dryer, Mommy will tell you no and remove it from said appliance.

3. If you try to remove clothing from the dryer while Mommy is loading it, Mommy will again tell you no but this time insist that said items remain in said appliance.
Conclusion: some wet items are acceptable for insertion into dryer, some are not. More tests are necessary to ascertain appropriateness of a range of items for drying.

4. If you yank on wire of unknown (even to Mommy) usefulness attached diagonally across inside of front screen door so that end of wire snaps away from fastener, Mommy will tell you that you are a “destructo boy” and remove sharp end of wire from your grasp.
Conclusion: research about the grammatical accuracy of “destructo” is necessary, as is further study of functionality of wire (which, it is important to note, Daddy reattached upon his return home in the evening).

5. If you try to nurse and suck on your index finger at the same time, Mommy will announce that you have made her nipples “mincemeat.”
Conclusion: must ascertain definition of “mincemeat.”

6. Due to diminutive size, it is acceptable to pair “cute cute Uncle Cletus” shirt with orange kaleidoscope diaper cover, eschewing pants. If you decide, however, to sport such attire for any length of time, you can expect the following:
a. For Mommy to grab her “camera” and begin acting insanely happy. The focus of her happiness, when the “camera” is in her hands, will appear to be directed at you and have something to do with aforementioned ensemble. Acceptable reaction to Mommy’s insanity is to smile and look “cute cute” (as in cute cute Uncle Cletus shirt). Due to diminished attention span (which correlates with age—further testing on this connection is desirable), turning your butt to the camera and crawling away to seek out more stimulating experiences (like the fun game called “How Close Can We Get To Mommy’s Flowers Before She Reacts!”) is acceptable (and desirable, as well).

7. If Mommy makes a barricade with the dining chairs, in the hopes that you will no longer be able to eat handfuls of the delectable potting soil found in the pot with the curiously waxy plant growing by the front window, your goal should be to slip beneath the rungs of said chairs to further research the necessity of aforementioned barricade. This is a primarily psychological experiment. Closely observe Mommy’s reaction when she notices you on the other side of her carefully constructed barrier. Note: her reaction will be more striking if you do the following after infiltrating the forbidden zone:
a. pull a smallish handful of dirt out of the pot and spread it liberally on the floor (particularly the rug beneath the dining table).
b. eat enough of the soil to develop a brown beard (refer to Daddy for details on this peculiarity) at least below your lower lip, if not all the way down your chin. A sheen of saliva on your skin prior to application of soil is helpful in enhancing the appearance of the “beard.”
c. if you are lucky enough to locate another forbidden object on the floor near the plant, make haste in getting it to your mouth. An old dryer sheet works nicely here, ensuring the dramatic quality of Mommy’s initial reaction.
d. When you are noticed, smile and giggle. These two behavioral elements will ensure that Mommy cannot get “mad” about your experiment. Second reason Mommy is unlikely to react to experiments with anger: see above description reading “age 12 months, 13 days.” Conclusion about this: Mommy is an ageist and a pushover. Further experiments are needed to test this conclusion over time. Say…the next 17 years.

Uberlist, 2007

The year is nearly a week old and we’re still frozen beneath the weight of a storm that dumped about 30 inches on us.

Our roof has protested, and the sound of water dripping in the dining room pervades the entire house. It feels like Chinese water torture but we try to remember that we did always want a fountain.

As is tradition, I have been thinking about what 2007 will hold for us. 2006 pretty much sucked so we’re hoping for better. I resist, however, making resolutions. Perhaps it’s because they’re so cliche or perhaps it’s because I never keep them anyway so why not save myself the personal disappointment. But then I read about the idea of an Uberlist at Mama Says Om: http://www.mamasaysom.com/

And, of course, I couldn’t resist.

Here, then, is mine, though perhaps not as uber as it could be. I anticipate many interruptions from his grumpiness, Sir Gray-Gray, who has been positively fractious today due to cabin fever.

Without further ado:

1. I will assess my career goals and figure out how to fit in the following: full-time work at Desert Academy as assistant to admissions and the business office (also, international student point person, standardized testing coordinator, and “Desert Wear” store operator); photography for various clients and my own self; writing (since I’m in a writing group again, and thus should really be writing stuff to share); my aspirations toward jewelry making that distract me greatly, particularly while driving home from work; finishing my BA someday before I die. Or turn 40.

2. I will make sure I get all the paperwork done so that Soren can start 7th grade at Desert in the fall. I already shudder to think of the countless hours this will take.

3. Well, I mentioned writing but would like to expound on that. I would like to actually make headway on my story. That I cannot discuss further, at least until I make some headway on it.

4. Learn to love cooking (I consider this goal to be highly unattainable).

5. Learn Spanish beyond my poquito grasp of various ways to tell people off.

6. Take horseback riding lessons to make the whole f’ing saddle debacle over Xmas worth my while after all (more on that at a later date).

7. Read read read. Don’t foresee any problem keeping this one.

8. I don’t know.

9. Try to overcome my writer’s block that has become chronic.

10. Assimilate the truth: that writer’s block is a myth and I’m just an f’ing procrastinator.

11. Learn how to actually save money.

12. Learn how to not spend the money I actually learn how to save (assuming I make good on goal number 11).

13. I don’t know.

14. Turn 35 gracefully.

15. Get a new camera.

Okay, no interruptions of my time here aside from my own brain farts. My mind is drifting off in several directions at once–a chronic problem with me. I could, in fact, call it an uber problem.

There’s my list. For now.