Purple

My naked blog is starting to bother me.  I’m currently fresh out of fresh words.  So I’m recycling.

I wrote this 9/13/2011

Littleloudone enjoys making concoctions.  I try not to pay attention because it’s annoying.  Today the ingredients were food coloring and raspberry juice (juice from actual raspberries)- both ingredients incredibly purple and staining.  She put these in a container with a questionable lid.  I continued to ignore this because whatever would make me think there would be shaking involved?  Well, there was shaking involved.  Purple, bad lid, shaking, and standing in a central location.  I hear a noise (I’m always hearing a noise, thought nothing of it) and a relatively quiet voice saying “Mom, you might want to come here.”  Fine.  I walk out to the dining area and see it.  The purple explosion.  Purple everywhere.  Kid, wall, floor, table, chair, kitchen cabinets, refridgerator.  Purple.  Everywhere.

I did what any good mother would do.  I freaked.  I unleashed an epic tirade of language that would make a sailor blush.  Handed the kid a dishcloth, which was kind of like handing her a bucket to bail out the ocean.  She’s crying.  I’m yelling.  Also crying.  Eventually laughing- kind of a wild hyena laugh.  Kinda got most of the purple off my green wall.  Sort of.  The floor is purple.  My chair is purple.  (actually it is soon going to be her chair).  Our kitchen cabinets are purple.  The fridge is purple.  Because raspberry juice doesn’t come out of anything.  Oh, and LLO looks like Violet from Willy Wonka.

I’m going to have to pay for a library book.  It’s already overdue and LLO wouldn’t let me read it to her anyhow.  I threw out all kinds of paper because it’s wet and purple.  Curtains are purple spotted now.  Probably forever.  I keep finding more spots of purple.  The radius of this disaster is amazing.

Purple.  Not Purpleicious.  Not even matching the purple in the hallway.  Purple.  I’m not as enthused by purple as I was yesterday.  In fact I might be allergic to purple now.

Positive note to this experience:  LLO doesn’t do anything halfway.

9/26/2011 I had to write a “song” for class.  I chose the inspiration of that disaster for the content.  LLO loved the song.  And, no, there is no music.  We don’t need actual music in my house to dance and sing.

Purple

You don’t think before you act (that makes you just like me)

You fight for worms and bugs and the injustices you see

You give hugs that break ribs (like an apple off the tree)

 

Purple… it is a state of mind.

Purple.. helps me feel fine.

Purple.. makes the world more fun.

Purple.. a storm or flower in the sun.

 

Others criticize your fashion sense (what’s wrong with print and plaid?)

You’d rather see a chrysalis than enjoy the latest fad

You’re moodier than a teenager (you spin from mad to glad)

 

Purple… it is a state of mind.

Purple.. helps me feel fine.

Purple.. makes the world more fun.

Purple.. a storm or flower in the sun.

 

You say what’s in your head (without thinking you will blurt)

Yet write melancholy poetry so poignant from your hurt

You dance in joyful dresses (completely covered in dirt)

 

Purple… it is a state of mind.

Purple.. helps me feel fine.

Purple.. makes the world more fun.

Purple.. a storm or flower in the sun.