Thursday, December 20, 2012

Fa la la la sumptum sumptum

The kids are officially out of school until 2013.

Yesterday they did their Christmas parties in their classrooms and they were each asked to bring one wrapped book, $5 or under, for a book exchange. So being a good mom I went to Barnes and Noble and picked out four 4-ish dollar age appropriate books. Of course they weren't wrapped by 7:30am so I said no problema, I will just bring them when I go up to volunteer for the parties. Walker and I were leaving to go get a margherita pizza - that story in a sec - and I pulled out the books and wrapped them in holly jolly wrapping very quickly, drove to school, and asked the annoyed front office staff to deliver them to four Dollahon children.

The book that I had gotten for Ike was a Christmas Little Critters book, because we are big fans of the Little Critters and their crazy Critter antics. But when I came home after school, I saw the Critters there on the kitchen counter... wha?

Turns out I had wrapped not the NEW Little Critters Christmas book, but an OLD Little Critters Christmas book that my mom had literally bought at a garage sale. And it looked like it came from a garage sale. Y'all, it had a .25 price sticker on it.

Today I sent an email to all the other kindergarten moms saying "if you were wondering which mom was so lazy and cheap that she couldn't cough up $4 but instead sent an old garage sale book - - that would be Ike's mom."

Fa la la la lame. 

So the reason that we had to go get a pizza was because Eva Rose had to do a fairly big Family Heritage Project for her second grade class. Unfortunately, her teacher sent out the info on this while we were in Ethiopia and oops forgot to tell us! I got an email on Friday, aka Maggie's birthday, aka the day before Maggie's birthday party, saying "Evangeline (Eva Rose decided she is Evangeline, which we have never called her, so it's still weird to me) will be presenting her big giant high level parental involvement required Family Heritage Project that all the other kids have been working on for two weeks on Tuesday"... wha??

Fa la la la lame.

The project was in Power Point. Yes, my 8 year old knows how to do Power Point, a program that I just learned to do last year. And she rocks that Power Point, I might add. I am also proud to say that my beautiful daughter has inherited the I Can Pull Stuff Out Of My Butt Last Minute That's So Awesome You'll Never Know gene, and y'all, she got that particular family heritage fully from her momma. That's my GIRL!! My girl EVANGELINE! Fist bump for the superstar procrastinators!

For this project, the kids had to do a family tree and find out a country they were from, then give a report on that country. The Dollahons are a whole lotta Irish. Exactly where the name Dollahon comes from is a mystery. It might be a bastardized version of O'Dolaghan, or it might be - and this is my favorite theory - from Dullahan, who were these uber creepy ghosts from Irish folklore!

From Wikipedia:

(The Dullahan) is headless, usually seen riding a black horse and carrying his or her head under one arm. The head's eyes are massive and constantly dart about like flies, while the mouth is constantly in a hideous grin that touches both sides of the head. The flesh of the head is said to have the color and consistency of moldy cheese. The dullahan's whip is actually a human corpse's spine ... When the dullahan stops riding, it is where a person is due to die. The dullahan calls out their name, at which point they immediately perish.
There is no way to bar the road against a dullahan—all locks and gates open on their own when it approaches. Also, they do not appreciate being watched while on their errands, throwing a basin of blood on those who dare to do so (often a mark that they are among the next to die), or even lashing out the watchers' eyes with their whips.
Holy Ichabod!! I married into some weirdness, huh?!

Either way, if there is a Dollahon anywhere in America, come on over with your figgy pudding, for we are kith and kin.

But Eva Rose, I mean Evangeline, decided Irish was so first grade and instead went for the Italian side of the family, through my mother-in-law, as Eva R Evangeline is a whopping 1/36th Italian. I can't blame her, I spent a couple of weeks in Italy in 1993 and it has never let me go. It's one of those places that captures you forever - the history! The art! The fashion! The ruins! There's really good food and really good wine to boot. And it's shaped like a boot. Plus, hello, Pompeii, a city frozen in time by a big gigantic pyroclastic flow? Si! Bella Italia!

So we called Mimi, Walker's mom, who just might need a 12 step program for her addiction, to give us the scoop on who put the 1 in the 1/36th. Turns out Great Great Great Grandpa Pietro fled Sicily in 1856 because he caught his mom sumptum sumptum Italian priest sumptum sumptum dead Italian priest sumptum sumptum run fast sumptum sumptum Mafia sumptum sumptum God bless America.

Sumptum sumptum.

Paw Paw Pietro

We edited that part of the Power Point to make it appropriate for immature audiences.

Aren't you lucky you're mature?
Murder and Mafia and headless horsemen, oh my. 

The kids got extra points if they brought in a food related to their country. I successfully steered Eva Rose Evangeline aka Flynn (Breaking Bad shout out)  away from me cooking some weird fruity Italian cookie to bringing a Margherita pizza, as she discovered the reason it is called the Margherita pizza as one of her Five Facts About Your Country of Heritage. I must say I myself have often wondered why a pizza shares the same name with a delicious and nutritious mature beverage. Oh, you too, you say? 

The story goes, in 1885, Queen Margherita of Italy visited Naples, and there she was served a pizza to represent the colors of the Italian flag: red (tomato sauce) green (basil) and white (mozzarella). She fell in love with that pizza so much that it was named after her. Now you know.

Grazie mille, Eva Rose Evangeline!

The Dullahan says Prego.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...