Winecone Wednesday – Where the Wild Things Are Edition

 

“And it is through fantasy that children achieve catharsis. It is the best means they have for taming wild things,” Maurice Sendak once said. As adults, we have perhaps lost our imagination. (I guess that’s why we throw winecones.)

Maurice Sendek left this world yesterday. “He sailed off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.” To the author of splendid nightmares: I do not believe there is a child out there who has not turned their mischief making into a fantasy world of fierce monsters – in a land where we can all be the king of our wild things.

“And now, let the wild rumpus start!”

“And the wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.”

So my boys have Hand, Mouth and Foot Disease (HMFD). Yay. Please note – not to be confused with hoof-and-mouth disease – which afflicts well, animals with hooves. I have been assured that HMFD is a common childhood virus of the coxsackievirus genre (capable of taking out an entire preschool class in a single afternoon).

HMFD. Making cherubic toddlers look like acned teenagers. If that doesn’t call for winecones, then you clearly need more wine. (Also, sick toddlers make for sleep-deprived parents. Roaring terrible roars and gnashing terrible teeth pretty much sum us all up.)

The preschool may also have a winecone to throw at me for my hypochondriacally impressive abilities to panic about the outbreak of a mutant pox. (Not that it wouldn’t be totally cool to parent an X-Man. But geez I don’t even want to *think* about those diaper change wrestling scenarios. I need to go find more wine. Throw some cones among yourselves…

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Smokers ruining perfectly wonderful weather for everyone. Forcing me to roll my windows up and recycle the air. – Sisyphus

Editor’s note: Smoking is a vile past time. I fully support your rights to abuse yourself, but I do not support your right to make me smell your stinky toxins. You know those smokers with the cigarette dangling out the window at the stoplight in front of you. A winecone that just buzzes that right out of their hand – alcohol purifies/sanitizes. And wine is alcohol. Just sayin…

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I want to go home from work now dammit. I don’t want to fix problems my incompetent coworker created for me 6 months ago. Just when I thought I was free of him. FOILED AGAIN.

Editor’s note: Just a sly walk-by his cube and BLAMMO winecone. Oh my goodness! It was a run-by wineconing! I don’t know *who* would do such a thing! Foil wrapped for added insult to injury (or personal amusement – we won’t judge).

Did you know the muppets former nanny had a preemie of her own? (This is why the uber paranoid me was so thrilled to find our Mary Poppins.) That was 16 years ago today. He made an early entrance into their lives.

His mom (the aforementioned Mary) notes, “He was very tiny (4 pounds) and looked a bit like Jiminy Cricket…but the minute I saw him I knew we’d be good friends. =)”

Happy Birthday Ryan! Isn’t amazing how much little preemies touch our hearts? And even more incredible how big the grow?!

“Oh, please don’t go—we’ll eat you up—we love you so!”

‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!

*Leave your Winecones in the comments or email us at anervousticmotion1@gmail.com or tricia@streamoftheconscious.com and we’ll add yours next week!

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