Thursday, November 19, 2015

Zoe vs. Famous Literary First Lines: Quiz & Giveaway

I'm doing my first giveaway today! (Cue the confetti.) If you're like me, you love free things. Also, if you're like me, you love to read. And so my giveaway involves a quiz about books.
I'm going to give you ten famous first lines from literature but rewritten as if viewed through the prism of parenthood. The first to guess the source for all of them will win the prize.
Ready?


Famous First Lines from Literature (if written by parents, or their children)
1. It was the best of times, and then we decided to have a kid.
2. Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see my five-year-old hitting another child.
3. Call me "my feet smell."
4. The five-year-old was spiteful.
5. In my younger and more vulnerable years, my mother gave me some advice that I've been ignoring ever since.
6. As I awoke one morning from uneasy dreams I found my bed transformed into Grand Central Station.
7. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single toddler in possession of a toy must be in want of a toy in another kid's hands.
8. The whining child thinks this is the saddest story I have ever heard. 
9. A screaming comes across the Chuck E. Cheese.
10. For a long time I delayed going to bed early.

Hold up. It says here that if you keep asking they'll eventually give in.


And a bonus one that sums up my life:
11. What made me take this trip into the bedroom?

Be the first to guess all eleven and I will send you one of the books, though you've probably read all of them already, right?
Zoe: 118; Universe: 0
For more of Zoe's hijinks, follow me on Facebook and on Twitter at @zoevsuniverse
I need a win here, people. 

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Thursday, November 12, 2015

Zoe vs. Uptown Funk

Lately, I have not been allowed to look at Zoe when she's enjoying herself.
Zoe dancing: "Don't look at me!"
Zoe singing: "No listening!"
Zoe watching Frozen when the stirring emotions of "Let It Go" overtake her, and she looks up to see me watching her: "Can you go away?"
I'm not allowed to take photos or video of her when she's smiling and happy. I have a lot of pictures of her frowning. That's if she even stays still for the picture and doesn't run at me with her hand up, or dart away just as I snap the photo so all I capture is a strand of blond hair at the edge of the frame.
Her embarrassment reached an apex recently. All in regard to the song "Uptown Funk." She loves "Uptown Funk." She sings it to herself, especially at night in the bath. While I lurk outside the bathroom door, because if I go in, I get yelled at, and all joy flees. 
So Zoe may whine and cry and get mad, but I prefer to channel my emotions in a more productive fashion: by writing parodies. Today I give you "Pint-size Punk."



Pint-size Punk

This kid, five-year-old
Like Caillou, can't be told.
This one for them sad mamas
Them mad mamas
Fallin' to pieces
Photo? No go.
Pathetic Facebook timeline
Got socks on with no pants.
From your camera make a beeline.

Don't look! (no ma'am)
Drop your eyes, and that camera, man
Don't look! (no ma'am)
Ain't no fodder for your Instagram
Don't look! (no ma'am)
Turn around, you know how I am
Don't look! (no ma'am)
In the corner see Mommy
Breaking down

Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Saturday night, I won't leave the park
Climbing too high, don't watch
Crazy dangerous, don't watch
Falling down now, don't watch
Ripped my new pants, don't watch
Trying to dance now, don't watch
Enjoying myself, don't watch
Hey, hey, hey oh!

Stop.
Wait a minute.
Fill my cup, put some juice in it
Take a sip, gobble gummis,
Mommy, pick me up
Playground, restaurant, Grandma's house, do what I want
Leave me alone, drop that phone
Singing with my Frozen microphone

Don't look! (no ma'am)
Drop your eyes, and that camera, man
Don't look! (no ma'am)
Ain't no fodder for your Instagram
Don't look! (no ma'am)
Avert your gaze, you know how I am
Don't look! (no ma'am)
In the corner see Mommy
Breaking down

Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Mom, can you go away now? (Shoo!)
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Cause pint-size punk ain't gon' pose for you
Saturday night, and we in the bath
Splashing around, don't watch
Water all over, don't watch
Sing my song now, don't watch
Slip and fall now, don't watch
I'm Queen Elsa, don't watch
My hands shoot ice, don't watch
Hey, hey, hey oh!

Before I brush my teeth
Lemme tell y'all a lil' something
Put. The. Camera. Down. Put the camera down
Put. The. Camera. Down. Put the camera down
I said, Put the camera down, put the camera down
Put the camera down, put the camera down
I'm gonna dance
Don't film it
If you listenin', don't hear it
If I'm creepin', don't fear it
Don't cry about it, come dress me
On the bed
Jump on it
Uneaten dinner, I want it
Well it's Saturday night and we're not going to bed.

Don't believe me? Just watch.
[Repeat refrain]

Zoe: 117; Universe: 0
For more of Zoe's hijinks, follow me on Facebook and on Twitter at @zoevsuniverse
I need a win here, people. 

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Thursday, November 5, 2015

Zoe vs. Throwdown Thursday

Today I'm proud to be the first guest poster on the humor blog The Next Delusion. It's hosted by the captivating Cassandra and mysterious Momus, a lovely pair whose loveliness is only magnified by their willingness to engage in arguments from the mundane to whether or not to give up cable TV.
On Thursday they post their throwdowns, and this Thursday they invited Zoe and I to share one of our arguments. Well, we are often at loggerheads so I thought it'd be easy, but it turns out Zoe and I can't even agree on what to argue about. So I corralled the Husband into arguing with me instead. And since I always get him to do things whether he wants to or not, that's exactly what we argued about: "Whose Idea of Fun." To see our throwdown, click here.
Of course, now Zoe's peeved about being left out. Her feeling is that when any "throwing down" is occurring---real or metaphorical---she should be the one launching the aforementioned items in a downward trajectory.
She'll just have to get over it. Ever since Zoe was born she's been placing herself between The Husband and myself, from our arguing to our making up, from our trying to have a conversation to trying to sleep. And in the end our old argument about who's in charge of weekend leisure is moot, since now that Zoe's on the scene, we do what she wants, and it's anything but leisurely. 
So that's why I'm signing off, as usual:
Zoe: 116; Universe (including other blogs): 0
For more of Zoe's hijinks, follow me on Facebook and on Twitter at @zoevsuniverse
I need a win here, people. 

Don't fight it.
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