I've Got to be Me
How to be Quinn:
Go to the laundry room. Choose whether to do darks or lights, start machine. Add soap. Then decide you hear the phone ringing in the front of the house. Hurdle pets and various shoes to get to phone, only to remember the washing-machine in the first ninety seconds of its cycle makes a noise which sounds exactly like the distant bleating of your cell-phone.
Now, forget this until your next load of laundry.
Go to the laundry room. Choose whether to do darks or lights, start machine. Add soap. Then decide you hear the phone ringing in the front of the house. Hurdle pets and various shoes to get to phone, only to remember the washing-machine in the first ninety seconds of its cycle makes a noise which sounds exactly like the distant bleating of your cell-phone.
Now, forget this until your next load of laundry.
posted by Unknown at 9:11 AM
7 Comments:
Boy, how many of these tapes play in my life! Like clockwork, & then forgotten until the next time. I've thought about writing them down, but I know I wouldn't remember to read what I've written.
I used to have a parakeet that could perfectly mimic my cell phone ring, the microwave beep and the low-battery smoke alarm chirp. Talk about racing around the house! I swear she did it on purpose to amuse herself.
Haha! I could do 30 loads of laundry and still make the same mistake... If you happen to have an idle moment, check out my blog post from last week, in which I discuss how everyday distractions (including cats) keep us from remembering anything: http://sherrystanfa-stanley.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-all-started-i-believe-with-my.html
I have a cat whose "meow" sounds like my son is crying somewhere. Whee.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
My dishwasher sounds like a coocoo clock, coocooing way off in the distance.
Of course, I did not realize that's what it was until I went searching for a coocoo clock.
Like, someone dropped one off here without my knowledge?
Oh my god, you've described my life again. Just wait for another 15 or so years... my husband stands in one place and just watches while I whirl from thing to thing to thing grasping at pieces of memory along the way.
This is the exact concept which can explain why people have more than one child. Oh, yes, NOW I remember the colic/exploding diapers/sleeplessness.
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