Booboo and the Beast

The other day in my history class, we were discussing the bubonic plague. Apparently, the bruises that were evidence of the plague were called "bubus." Thus we get the word used when speaking motherese to a child: booboo. When I learned the history of this term, I was shocked. It's like "Ring Around the Rosy," which also comes from the plague era. If you didn't know, the original ending was "we all fall dead," later changed to "we all fall down." I don't want my future children to remind me of the Black Plague every time they get a tiny scrape or play a childhood spinning game. I determined, therefore, that I will teach my children to say "wound" instead of "booboo." Interactions with my children will go something like this:

"Mommy, I have a wound on my finger," Junior says.

"Where, my sweet?" the beautiful mother implores.

"Right here," Junior responds.

"Oh, what happened?"

"It got caught."

"In what?"

"In Friedrich's teeth."

For anyone who recognizes that last line, you will appreciate how my life will be so much like The Sound of Music. The similarities between me and Maria are magnificent to behold. When I was an infant, my mom used to sing to me, "How do you solve a problem like--Toni?" Those closest to me can also vouch for how much I resemble Julie Andrews, especially my British accent and phenomenal singing voice. What was it I was singing the other day? Oh yes. "Part of Your World." At the top of my lungs. According to my mother, that was one of the first songs I ever learned. Ariel was my idol. . . until Beauty and the Beast came out in 1991. Then, I wanted nothing more than to grow up to be like Cogsworth. How great would it be to have a clock installed in your face?! You would never be late to anything. And the way Cogsworth sticks to the master's rules--I only wish that I could be so strict.

Fear not, faithful readers. Someday, I will achieve my dream. May all your dreams come true. And may all your booboos remind you of the bubonic plague. . . until they get kissed better.

Over and out.

I can't look away

This is what I am reading right now: "A full body of fur, along with an extremely physical routine, also causes Cosmo a great deal of discomfort." It's part of a yellowed newspaper clipping I have taped to my wall. The clipping is directly behind my computer, and that particular sentence is just above the monitor, as though it were pleasantly sitting there. There is also a creepy picture of Cosmo the Cougar smiling, if he can smile. His eyes, hidden beneath brows the size of my fists, are empty as he gazes out from the newspaper, his mouth hanging stupidly open in an eternal drool. He watches me whenever I am on the computer. . . and even sometimes when I'm not. I can't bring myself to take the paper down, despite its creepiness. I'm under the spell of the Cosmo.

My roommates don't know it. My roommates can't see it. They don't understand the depths of those terrible, empty eyeholes. They wonder why I sit before the computer for hours on end. I explain it away with "essays" and "Facebook stints." But the truth is with Cosmo. He won't let me leave easily. He forced me to change the "turning on" sound on my computer to the BYU fight song. He made me put a BYU football calendar on my desktop. I am. . . spellbound.

I shudder to think that there may be duplicates of this newspaper clipping out in the world, waiting for the next hapless victim to come their way. One day, there will be babies wearing his face on their pajamas, thousands will throng for a ride on top of his stone replica, books upon books will be printed with his likeness on the cover. Wait--I am informed that these things are already happening. Mark my words: the Cosmos are out to get us!