It's a Mystery: The 4th Snark Child

Miss Bear to Mr. Snark: "There's a mess in the family room."

Mr. Snark: "Really? A mess? Who made it?"
Miss Bear: "Hmmm..."

She actually draws this sound out for a really long time...

Miss Bear: "...mmmmmmmm... It's a mystery!"

Miss Bear turned 4 today and I came to a startling realization--there is actually an invisible child living with us who leaves wet towels on the bathroom floor, shoes scattered throughout the entryway, and doors wide open. He hits his brother when I'm not looking and steals candy without permission.

I'd been aware of something being amiss for some time. I've made inquiries without success.


Mrs. Snark to the boys: "Who left the milk on the kitchen counter?"
The Boy: "Not me!"
Middle Child: "Not me!"
Miss Bear: "Hmm...it's a mystery."

Mrs. Snark growls in aggravation. "Was it 'Not Me' or "It's a Mystery'? We really need to settle on a name for your unseen sibling!"

And...

Egads...

It just occurred to me--what if there's not just one invisible child, but two????????????????


Note from the author:
My friend tells me Family Circus has already done the "Not Me" joke so I wanted to apologize to the creator of the strip. I wasn't intentionally trying to rip off her joke. I simply wasn't aware of it.

Snarkology: 1st Birthday, Halloween Blog Hop & Keeping the Nip Flowing

The State of The Snarkology

10/20/2013 Edition

The Snarkology is a year old. Technically, it was created on 10/19/12 but I'm holding an impromptu birthday party for my blog today over on Facebook starting at 12PM PST. Drop on by and say hi! There will be door prizes and a few party games.

Snarkology Paranormal Blog Hop

Signups close tomorrow for the Snarkology Paranormal Blog Hop. If you've been thinking about joining and haven't yet, do so! Time is running out.

Simply go to my left sidebar and click on the blog hop button. It will take you to the Blog Hop page where there is a signup form at the bottom of the page.

<--The button looks like this!

Oct. 21-26th

Exciting things in store this week! 

• On Monday, I'm blogging about the mythology and superstitions surrounding vampires.  
• Tuesday and Wednesday, author Lyndi Alexander is visiting with me, talking about her paranormal romantic suspense novel. And I'll be reviewing: LOVE ME, KISS, ME KILL ME.   
• Thursday, Book spotlight of Susan C. Muller's THE WITCH ON TWISTED OAK.
• Friday, Author Kris Brock is giving writing tips on the difference between elements of suspense versus surprise with a book spotlight for  WHISPERS IN THE DARK.
• Saturday, Author Sarah Bella talks about life's writing lessons and her novel, 14 Days of "Ohs!"

25 Days of Christmas Stories

I still need Christmas Stories for my "25 Days of Christmas Stories" promo to run Dec. 1-25th. Again, the link to the event blog page is in the left sidebar.
 

<--Looks like this!


Leave me a comment to signup or shoot me an email at melissasnark at gmail.com.


 

 

 

Finally, bonus feature! A couple snippets from the Snark Family: 

(Like most writers, I keep a notebook. These are things that made me laugh but haven't evolved into a post.)

The Gym Parking Lot:

As Mr. Snark zips along, Mrs. Snark waves her arms in agitation. "You just passed a perfect front row parking spot!"

Mar. Snark (sneers):  "It was a compact space."

Mr. Snark then heads for the back of the lot in Bumfuk, Egypt.

Mrs. Snark:  "This is a very compact minivan!"

Mr. Snark:  "No it's not."

Mrs. Snark:  "Yes, it is. Have you ever seen the width on a Sienna?"

Mr. Snark:  "It's not width that matters. It's length."

Mrs. Snark (rolls eyes):  "Pffff. Only to a man. Ask any woman and she'll tell you that it's girth that matters."

Mr. Snark: "Are we still talking about parking spaces?"

Mrs. Snark:  "I am. But I know what you're talking about."

On Litigious Kitties:

Mr. Snark walks past an octopus of hyper cats wrestling on the floor.
Mr. Snark:  "Cat nip again?"
Mrs. Snark: "You didn't ask any questions when the cat lawsuit went away. Move along."


Come by the Snarkology's 1st Birthday Party on Facebook!

Are you worth your weight in rubber ducks?

The most delightful and astonishing aspect of being a parent to a three-year-old is rediscovering the world through your child's eyes. Everything is simple and straightforward. But their capacity for honesty is just brutal.

By the time most of us reach adulthood, life has beaten the joy out of us. Society frowns upon exuberance outside of music videos and carnivals.

At the mall, Miss Bear receives a fresh pretzel coated in salt, dripping with butter, with a huge smile on her face. She takes a huge bite and proclaims: "YUM! Mmmmmmmmmm...."

Two women standing nearby are startled by this loud proclamation. They turn to look and spot Miss Bear. Their expressions run the gamut: surprise, then delight and finally amusement. They trade grins and one of the women opens her mouth and looks at me.

"Yes, I know," I say. Miss Bear is the curly blonde-haired, blue-eyed pixie poster child for CUTE.  "But you wouldn't believe how bad she is."

The woman points to her younger companion. "She was bad too. They grow out of it."

At home, Miss Bear's most important worldly possession is her pink blankie with satin trim, but whatever else she happens to be holding at the moment comes in a close second. She is very fond of a collection of toy animals she owns, including a rubber duck.

I decided to measure her valuation of the duck, so I held it up. "Miss Bear, what do you like better? Your brothers or duck?"

She looked me straight in the eyes and proclaimed, "Brothers!"

At this point, both of the Snark boys were chortling up a storm.

I pointed to The Middle Child who happens to share a close bond with his sister. They play together all the time. He solves her problems and dances to entertain her. He hugs her when she's sad and kisses her boo-boos. As I've mentioned in the past: We call him The Baby Whisperer.

"Miss Bear, duck or this brother?"

"Brother!" she said without hesitation.

I aimed a finger at my oldest son, The Boy. (It was one of those rare occasions when he'd come out of his cave.)  "Brother or duck?"

Miss Bear glanced at her brother and frowned. You could see the wheels turning. The Boy pays more attention to our fat gray cat than he does to his dear sister.

"Duck!"

The Boy rolled away laughing. At least he has a good sense of humor about being valued below a rubber duck. However, without The Middle Child to tip the scales, it is clear where her preferences lie.

Later, after relating the incident to Mr. Snark, I wondered aloud: "Do you think Miss Bear would choose us over the duck?"

Mr. Snark looked thoughtful. "I think that depends on what happened just prior to her being asked the question."

A parent's life is hard. You can't always be your child's best friend. Sometimes you have to be mean and live with the fact that a rubber duck would win the popularity contest for her affection.

A Male Conspiracy

August 26th is Mrs. Snark's favorite time of the year, topping both Thanksgiving and New Year. It is the time of great joy and happy Snoopy dances, when both of the precious and incredibly annoying Snark boys return to school.

Stress precedes this glorious event. Mrs. Snark worries about every conceivable thing that may be of consequence. She drags children shopping for new shoes, purges closets of clothing that no longer fits and makes shopping lists of school supplies for weeks in advance.  Bus schedules are checked, checks written, and backpacks locked and loaded.

Each child receives a map of their school with classrooms highlighted and corresponding periods handwritten next to locations. She circles  the cafeteria in bright yellow so her hapless male offspring don't perish of starvation due to their hereditary Male Pattern Blindness.

The night before, Mrs. Snark gave Mr. Snark a mission. "Please set the Middle Child's alarm clock to seven."

"Will do." Mr. Snark accepted the alarm clock thrust toward him and set off to accomplish the ONLY thing he'd been asked to do.

Trusting fool that she was, Mrs. Snark went to bed without double-checking. She spent a restless night tossing and turning, dreaming of late arrivals and angry teachers.

In the morning, The Middle Child's alarm blared down the hall and her feet hit the carpet. With the urgency of a fire fighter, she rushed through dressing and sped downstairs, banging on doors and shouting for the whole house to awaken.

It was 5A.M.

"Why is the boy's alarm going off at 5A.M.?" Mrs. Snark demanded shrilly of Mr. Snark. "I said 7."

Per Mr. Snark, his conversation with The Middle Child went like this:

"What time do you want me to set the alarm for?"

"5A.M."

"Really? 5A.M."

"Yes. 5A.M."

The present...

"It didn't occur to you that he wanted to get up two hours early so he could play video games or that he needed those two hours of sleep?" Mrs. Snark asked.

Mr. Snark shrugged.

Not to be outdone, the eldest Snark boy set out for the bus stop for his first day of high school. 

"Do you know where to meet the bus?" Mrs. Snark asked.

"MOM, I'M FOURTEEN YEARS OLD! I KNOW WHERE TO GO!"

Almost forty minutes later, Mrs. Snark found the following texts on her phone:
 

Mrs. Snark panicked. "The Boy missed the bus! Why would he text my cell phone instead of calling the house! The bus stop is one block away! Why wouldn't he have come home?"

Mr. Snark: "Have you tried to call him?"

Mrs. Snark: "I'm doing that now!"

The Boy: Did not answer his phone.

Mrs. Snark (hyperventilating): "He's not answering! I'm texting him!"
 

"I'm going to the bus stop!" Mrs. Snark shouted and ran out of the house wearing frizzy bedhead, PJs and a pair of flip flops.

Time passed. Mrs. Snark returned home and the Middle Child was dropped at school. The whole time, Mrs. Snark clutched her phone, watching for incoming texts.

Mr. Snark: "Why don't you call the high school to see if he arrived?"

"I don't want to seem like an over-anxious mother."

Mr. Snark rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Snark called: "Hi, my teenage son never got on the bus. Can you tell me if he ever made it to school?"

School Loud Speaker: "Could the Freshman Snark boy please report to the principal's office? Your mother is worried about you."

As it happens, The Boy was actually the first kid to arrive in class.

Mr. Snark: "Serves him right. Next time, he'll answer the texts."