Vinegar kids and cliche dates, plus a few bruises

Ever notice how little kids are always told the truth, and then sometimes when they do, they get in trouble for it?

For instance, last night, I was having dinner with the boyfriend and his family. Right as we were getting ready to settle down and eat, his 7-year-old brother, Davy, came up to me and said “Jason hates you.” (Oldest brother of the family, who does, in fact, hate me. The feeling is mutual, but once again, names have been changed.) just out of the blue.
I kinda laughed it off. It was funny. But his mom and dad heard Stefan talking about it and got angry. The little one ended up getting vinegar  in the mouth, and went to his room and cried for a while.
All I could listen to was him crying, and I felt absolutly terrible. I adore that little boy, and I kinda sorta in a turnabout way got him in trouble.

Anyway, after dinner, Stefan and I had the evening planned at one of the most cliche dates of all time. The fair. It happens every August, and at the baseball fields the set up carnival rides and games and stuff. Before we left, I said to him “You are gonna win me a giant stuffed animal, right?” all he said was that he’d try.
Once the little siblings heard that we were going to the fair, they wanted to go too. Soooo we took the two youngest with us for a few hours, until it got dark. Then the parents took them home and Stefan and I had the rest of the night to enjoy the fair.
First we got nachos and drinks and went up to the top of the metal bleachers and ate. When we were done, we made our way down. There were three younger teenage boys sitting at the bottom, and just as I was about to say “excuse me boys” so as not to scare them, my foot missed the next row of seats and I went tumbling down on my face. My pop went flying and my leg went in between the seats.
The kid nearest me JUMPED out of his seat and immediatly started laughing, as did I. The wonderful boyfriend was all “are you okay let me help you up” but I was laughing too hard. We all ended up laughing. Although, I have large bruises everywhere, including my eyelid. I don’t exactly know how that happened.

Here are some diagrams to help you! 🙂

This is how you are SUPPOSED to sit on bleachers

This is how I ended up when I fell

It was pretty impressive. I’m alright though. 🙂

After that we went on a ride or two, then we got to the carnival games part. I reminded him of his ‘promise’ to win me a giant stuffed animal so we sat down at a skiball sort of game. Depending on the hole you got your ball in, your corrisponding character behind the counter would go faster or slower. We lost the first game, but we had paid for two more, so we kept playing. And my wonderful boyfriend won!!!!!! 😀 He won me a big kissy fishy.
We had one more game to go, so we figured “what the heck?” and played again. And guess what??? He won again! This time we didn’t get to choose the prize though, the carnie just handed us a little bear with money design all over it. 🙂 I was very proud of my boy.
After winning me the prizes, we headed over to the ferris wheele and got on, adding to the disgusting mushy gushy cliche-ness of the date. It was sweet though, and kinda sorta romantic.

So even though I came out on the other end with bruises, a pop stained shirt, and two stuffed animals, it was a wonderful night.

Love Always,

Flopryn

Kids say the darndest things

First off, I’d like to apologize to my parents and anyone who ever cared for me as a child. Since I have ADD, and it went untreated until I was maybe… 8 or 9… I was a very… difficult child. To say the least.

I am apologizing now because tonight I had to babysit a friends kids. Jasmine, who is 8, and Jessica, who is 6 (names have been changed for privacy). Jessica is a perfect angel most of the time. Jasmine, not so much. Jessica has ADD also, and this morning, she forgot to take her pills. Oh joy.

When I arrived, their mom told me that Jasmine was grounded, and had to stay in her room all night, and while she was there she had to clean it. Now, I’m no stranger to dirty rooms. If it weren’t for the fact that my bedroom also serves as an office for my dad to work out of, this room would be the same as all the other disaster zones.

I remember one time when I was around 4 that my mom was trying to get my brothers and I to clean our shared room. (we lived in a two bedroom apartment then) and I remember her saying “I just want to be able to make it to your beds without stepping on anything to kiss you goodnight!”

So what did we do? We pushed everything aside to make a path just wide enough for her to walk along to get to the beds. We proudly went to retrieve her and show her our accomplishment. She was not pleased….

Jasmine’s was the same. Everywhere, clothes, toys, shoes, papers, clothes, toys. I could not see the floor. And I had to make her clean it? When something so little as the shine on the window distracted her?? And the fact that I was ‘only the babysitter’ and I ‘couldn’t MAKE her do anything’ and I’ve never had children of my own (thank god, I’m only 18. o_O) made it all that much harder.

I finally bribed her with Zingers and a sucker. But it got nowhere near finished before bedtime.

In the middle of all this, I took the girls out to dinner to visit the boyfriend (who will be affectionately known here as Stefan, yes the fancy pronunciation, just because I like it like that. :D)at his workplace.

As I was eating, (they had already ate dinner and weren’t hungry) The younger one, Jessica, suddenly pipes up with “Boys don’t have babies, right?” I stifled a laugh, as did Stefan, then said “Nope, they don’t. They aren’t able to.”

Jessica: “Like they will get in trouble?”

Me: “No, their bodies won’t let them”

Jessica: “Why not?”

At this point I looked over at Stefan with a look of what I would assume was pure terror. I did NOT want to have to give this girl that talk. Stefan nodded encouragingly.

So, I went into a brief explanation, saying that while girls had the extra space for a baby to grow, guys didn’t. She seemed to accept that answer. I feel like I got off easy. But this bugger asks a lot of questions. It’ll come up sooner or later.

Sorry no pics tonight, Jasmine wore me out. Maybe I’ll make some tomorrow after sleep time.

Love always,

Flopryn

Lets stick together!

Fist post! Woo!!!!1
😀

Sooo I know I don’t have much on here yet, but I’m hoping to be able to post some funny stories and drawings for you guys soon! Just stick with me and we’ll be good okay? ok.

 

Okay so maybe sticking together was the wrong term. There’s crystal meth tweakers out there and stuff. But you get what I mean.

By the way, thats me in the purple mumu lookin thing. Yes I have brown hair and bangs, no I don’t wear a purple mumu. Although I’ve heard they are quite comfortable…
You can just refer to me as Flopryn, or just Flop. I’ll save that story for another day.

Or not, cuz nothing special has happened today and I am having writers block on what to talk about. This blog is gonna be a fail lol

My dad is a MAJOR goofball. When my older brother was a baby, he would squeak when he nursed. So my dad called him Squeaker all the time. After a while it just shortened to squeak.
When I was born a year and a half later, my parents had gotten used to handling a baby who could hold himself up. When my dad held me for the first time, he said “She’s so floppy!!!” and so, my nickname was born.
Flop, flopper, flopryn. He chose to spell it like that because my real name ends in yn, as apposed to the more common in.
My youngest brother would wiggle out of their arms when he was just an infant, so they called him Wiggler. But the only names that really stuck, and that we use today, are Squeak and Flopryn.

 

Wow. That was probably THE most boring blog post EVER. I’ll get better guys. I have plenty of funny stories and drawings for you!

Love always,

Flopryn