Author Archives: Alyce Wilson

About Alyce Wilson

Alyce Wilson is the editor of Wild Violet and in her copious spare time writes humor, non-fiction, fiction and poetry, keeps an online journal, and is working on a book, Belated Mommy: How to Cope With Being an Older Mom. Her first chapbook, Picturebook of the Martyrs, and her e-book/pamphlet, Stay Out of the Bin! An Editor's Tips on Getting Published in Lit Mags (which she plans to update soon) and her book of essays and columns, The Art of Life, can be ordered from her Web site, AlyceWilson.com. She lives with her husband in the Philadelphia area and takes far too many photos of her attractive cat, Luke, and handsome preschooler, nicknamed Kung Fu Panda.

Mommy Files: Fun Food Friday

The first #funfoodFriday was a raging success! Fruity Banana Smoothies from Pillsbury's Kids Cookbook

Week 1: Fruity Banana Smoothie

In an effort to introduce our Kung Fu Panda to new foods, we began a new weekly activity, Fun Food Friday. Each week, he and I make and/or try a new healthy food or snack. So far, it’s had an incredibly good record.

On Week 1, we made Fruity Banana Smoothies from the Pillsbury Kids Cookbook. This was such a hit that we’ve made it several times since then, as well. Since I am currently dairy-free, we made it with cultured coconut milk instead of yogurt and used dark chocolate chips.

KFP says the Crunchy Almond Cookies we made were "crunchy & chewy." (Fenster's "1000 Gluten-Free Recipes") #funfoodFriday

Week 2: Crunchy Almond Cookies

The second week, we made gluten-free Crunchy Almond Cookies from 1000 Gluten-Free Recipes by Carol Fenster. I had to make a few substitutions to eliminate the dairy, but they turned out really well. KFP enjoyed it, eating half a cookie and then asking to put the other half away for later!

Week 3: Shake-It Salad

On Week 3, I learned that it wasn’t always going to be so easy. We tried the Shake-It Salad from the Pillsbury Kids Cookbook. KFP was excited about helping me make the salad, by shaking up the ingredients inside a plastic container, he wasn’t as enthusiastic about eating it. He picked out a few shreds of carrot to eat and rejected the rest. Apparently, even with salad dressing liberally applied (via the shake-it method), it wasn’t enough to appeal to him.

Homemade Apple sauce was a big hit for #FunFoodFriday

Week 4: Home-made Applesauce

I was inspired for Week 4’s food by KFP’s reaction to eating some homemade applesauce at our new favorite restaurant, The Avenue Delicatessen in Lansdowne. Taking the advice of the owner, who loved our project of getting our little guy to make and try new foods, we used a variety of apples. I made double the recipe from The All-New All-Purpose Joy of Cooking by Irma S. Rombauer. Thanks to remembering to sprinkle cinnamon on top, he readily ate up most of his portion.

Week 5: Gluten-Free Banana Bread

Week 5’s dish was inspired by the fact that KFP recently rediscovered a love for bananas. He also loves bread, so I suggested we make banana bread together. Since I am also gluten-free (since discovering last year that my body is much happier without it), we made Jill and Stella’s Gluten-Free Banana Bread from a fabulous site that includes lots of child-friendly recipes. I used dairy-free margarine instead of butter and Xylitol instead of sugar. He had a lot of fun mashing up the bananas and helping me stir. The ultimate result was tasty, but without taking a nibble, KFP declared that it was neither bananas nor bread and he didn’t want it! Well, they can’t all be successes, I suppose.

We are doing the Great Green Experiment for #FunFoodFriday

Week 6: Great Green Experiment

The following week, Week 6, we started a series of “color experiments,” where we try foods of one color each week and mark down which ones we like. I got the idea from a blog post shared with me by a friend about how the blogger got her children to love green foods. Naturally, we started out with green foods. We tried peppers, celery, cucumbers, avocado, grapes and snow peas. He marked a smiley face for everything but the avocados (which he barely even nibbled). Since then, he has requested snow peas and peppers, and I’ve been very happy to comply.

The Great Red Experiment results: 6 red foods tries, 6 smiley faces! #FunFoodFriday

Week 7: Great Red Experiment

Last week, Week 7, we continued the color experiment series with the Great Red Experiment, which I thought would be perfect for Valentine’s Day. This time, the results were even more promising: he gave smiles to all six foods. We tried beets, apples, raspberries, strawberries, watermelon and tomatoes. I intend to keep these charts so that, if we offer the same foods again and he doesn’t want to eat them, we can show him what he said about them when he tried it before. We wrote down adjectives as well as having him mark whether he liked it. My favorite adjective of his for these foods? “Yum.”

This week, we were supposed to do the Great Orange Experiment with peach, cantaloupe, tangerine, mango, orange pepper and sweet potato. Unfortunately, I probably started it too late in the day, after we’d already done an involving activity (“painting” with frozen ice cubes that had food coloring mixed in). All he did was eat the cantaloupe (which he already knew he liked) and refuse the rest. I wrapped up his tray and put it away, so that hopefully we can try it again tomorrow when he’s in a better mood.

All told, the Fun Food Fridays have turned out to be a great way to make trying new foods less imposing. And yes, even fun.


I am competing in the Baby Steps video contest about early childhood education. Winning the audience prize would help pay for my son’s preschool tuition for the rest of the year. To vote for me, please go to the voting page and view my video (which should make you smile). To vote, you will then close the video window and click the box at the upper right-hand corner of the preview box for my video. Selecting LIKE for the page does NOT count as a vote for me.

In case that’s confusing, I’ve also uploaded an image that shows you exactly where to click:

Image of voting page with arrow

Thanks in advance! Every vote helps!

Help Out a Mommy

I apologize for my limited posting of late. From week to week, my best-laid intentions for writing seem to fall prey to the demands of daily living and parenting. I hope to turn that around soon.

This week, I did manage to squeeze out enough time to put together a 2-minute video for a competition held by an early education organization called Baby Steps. It features my little man, Kung Fu Panda, who readily helped me shoot a video I call “Puppet Problem Solving.”

Please take a quick break and view it; it should make you smile (maybe even laugh):

http://on.fb.me/1c22MbO

To view it, scroll to the bottom and look for an image of KFP with two puppets.

Afterwards, if you liked it, please click on the box in the upper right-hand corner of the video to vote. A judging panel will award top prizes based on how well the videos met specific requirements, but they’ll also give out a cash prize for the top vote getter.

Mommy Files: Resolutions (Sort Of)

Whether it’s from jealousy or just because they make me weary, I tend to look askance at moms who are too enthusiastic about their parenting goals. Lately, though, I’m beginning to understand them better. Now that my son — at 3 1/2 — has reached a stage where he seems to soak in knowledge like a sponge, I’ve found it’s easy to go overboard. Still, I don’t want to become one of those moms who shoves flash cards at their child the minute he wakes up, determined that he’ll be acing the PSAT’s by age 7.

I do, however, resolve to continue some of the practices that have worked for us so far:

1) Use a sticker reward chart to promote positive behaviors and eliminate undesired ones.

2) Use the “Kindergarten Here I Come” calendar to develop fun and educational activities for us to do together on a regular basis.

In addition, I’d like to work on something I’ve been avoiding, in part because, despite the social graces I’ve cultivated over the years, I’m really still an introvert. The beast I’d like to slay, the dreaded playdate.

3) Actively schedule playdates for KFP to interact with friends, both new and old.

In order to follow through on this last one, I believe I’ll have to continue to remind myself that a playdate doesn’t have to mean inviting someone over to our cramped rowhouse. It could, instead, mean scheduling a meet-up at a park, museum, or even the library. I’m going to start by contacting the mother of the preschool classmate my son calls his best friend. Not only do the boys get along extremely well, but I also enjoy talking to her. Bonus!

And that’s it. Simple, sweet and actionable. On top of that, I’m resolving to go easy on myself and on him: remembering that no one is perfect all the time, and having faith that small, persistent, nurturing actions will eventually pay off for us both.

Cheers! Happy New Year!
My little guy toasts the New Year… with his sippy cup.

Mommy Files: Enriching His World

KFP's fingerpaint train. #art
Can you see the train?

This afternoon, KFP and I made homemade fingerpaints and painted: me an abstract outdoor scene, him an exuberant, minimalist train.

I felt good about it for two reasons: one, I am finally recovered enough from my cold to do something besides sit on the couch while my head spins; second, I got to cross something off the “Kingergarten Here I Come Calendar” we’ve been following. I like crossing things off.

We picked up the calendar for free at the local public library (although you can also order them online). They’re designed for preschoolers, ages 3 through 5, with activities that relate to literacy, basic math principles, safety, hygiene, scientific principles and other essential skills. Each month there are 16-20 activities to cross off, ranging from simple craft projects to things to point out to your child (such as taking a walk and looking for signs of autumn). Each month also suggests four to five books, which I added to a Google doc and have been getting from the local library system.

Some of the activities are challenging and more involved (such as today’s activity of making and using fingerpaints) while others are much easier (such as looking through a magazine for people and figuring out what expressions are on their faces).

I’ve been pleased with how many of the activities have been ones I’m already doing: such as giving him an option of choosing between two acceptable choices for things like what shirt to wear or what book to read next. His response to most of the new activities has been so enthusiastic that I get excited about them, as well. Some things have become new favorite activities, such as acting out stories with puppets and stuffed animals.

He may still be a couple years away from kindergarten, but with these activities, combined with his preschool, I predict he will definitely be ready when the time comes.

He's painting a train, he says.
KFP creates his minimalist train.

Mommy Files: It’s Time to Speak Out about the ‘G’ Word

Wait a minute. Did she just say my son looked gay?

That’s what ran through my mind after a comment from an elderly acquaintance. I was dressing my 3-year-old son in his Navy blue pea coat after a Thanksgiving luncheon at the YMCA. On his head I placed the red and black fleece hat that covers his ears, topped with a tassel made of fleece strips. That’s when the woman said, about his winter get-up, “If I’d put that on my sons, they would have told me ‘That looks gay, Mom’.” Perhaps noticing the stunned look on my face, she quickly added, “I like that coat, and the hat, too.”

I just answered, “They shouldn’t talk like that.”

She was in her 70s, and explained that her sons were in their 50s now, as if that made it OK. Yes, they’d grown up decades before the advent of sensitivity to lesbian and gay issues, but I still don’t buy that as an excuse. My parents don’t talk that way, and they both turned 70 this year. They learned to respect other people. It might sound harsh, but I believe this woman has herself to blame for her son’s attitudes. Children learn what they hear. More importantly, they learn from silence, just as much as from what’s spoken.

This incident came on top of another disturbing incident. A classmate from my water aerobics class told me her grandson, who is just starting school, complained to his mother that the other boys called him a “Tinkerbell” because he speaks proper English. Who is teaching these kids that it’s all right to call people who are different “gay”? And why isn’t anyone telling them it’s not OK?

I remember being a camp counselor at a summer camp affiliated with the United Church of Christ back in the 1980s. Some campers seemed to think that calling something you didn’t like — or someone who was different — “gay” was absolutely acceptable. After all, it wasn’t considered swearing and it wasn’t regarded as being as offensive as a variety of other epithets. Long before the current growth in awareness about the topic, I used to pull kids aside and tell them that it was not appropriate to call other kids that name, that it was hurtful because it singled them out for being different. I also added that there’s nothing wrong with being gay, if you are, and that using the word as an insult implies that it is a bad thing.

I don’t know if I made any difference in those kids’ lives, but I hope I did. I know how impressionable I was when I was younger, and I know how much it impacted me when adults called me to task for my language or behavior. I’d love to think that my words made them think about, and better yet, change their behavior, and maybe even pass along what they’d learned. 

If we want kids to stop insulting each other using the term “gay,” we’ve got to come off the sidelines.  We can’t excuse it by saying “boys will be boys.” That means speaking out, whether it’s your kids or someone else’s. I firmly believe that, and I have been practicing that tactic for many years now.

We will never be able to stop kids from teasing each other or calling each other names. But if we all speak out against this particularly virulent kind of name calling, hopefully we can make it as unacceptable to call someone the “G” word as to call someone the “N” word.

Let’s take a stand and change the language on the playground.

KFP flies "like the birds" on a swing.
My son flies “like the birds” on a swing

My Other Baby

The same year I gave birth to my bright, energetic Kung Fu Panda, I birthed another “baby”: my book of essays and columns, The Art of Life. The collection features the best of more than a decade’s worth of newspaper columns and online writings. In it, I examine pop culture, ponder the inner thoughts of dogs, and share insights into the beauty and humor of life.

When the book was fresh and new — in its figurative crib — I was making my bleary-eyed way through Baby Boot Camp. A few half-hearted attempts to promote the book among friends and through a handful of readings assured me that people who did read it liked it. The problem was, I lacked the time and energy to bring the book to a wider audience. Since I’d opted to self-publish the eclectic collection, I was the only one out there promoting it. As a result, I guess you could say my literary baby suffered from the condition doctors call “failure to thrive.” If it were human, they would have prescribed protein supplements and frequent follow-up doctor’s visits.

But now that KFP is in preschool — and now that I’m finally back to at least my normal amount of limited sleep — I’m going to give it another shot. For this weekend (today through Tuesday, November 12), I’m holding a free promotion of the Kindle version of The Art of Life. Stop by, pick up a copy, and tell your friends. (And if you don’t have a Kindle device, download the free app for use on PCs or smart phones.)

In these digital days, you probably won’t bother to print out any of these pieces to hang on your refrigerator, but I guarantee you’ll find something that will make you smile, ponder and even want to share it.

(And if you do, please write a quick review on Amazon, Goodreads and any other book review site, as a thank you for the free read!)

Philcon Schedule

I've received my official Philcon schedule and am on two panels this year and am officially the moderator of one of them (huzzah!). Check it out:

Sat 6:00 PM in Crystal Ballroom Two (1 hour)
BECOMING A FULL TIME WRITER (1496)

[Panelists: Alyce Wilson (mod), Alex Shvartsman, David Sklar, D.L. Carter, Thomas Willeford]

How do you become a full time writer? Is that a good idea for you?

Sun 10:00 AM in Plaza III (Three) (1 hour)
USING SOCIAL MEDIA TO PROMOTE YOUR CAREER (1543)

[Panelists: KT Pinto (mod), Christine Norris, Alyce Wilson, D.H. Aire]

Whenever a writer is on Facebook, he or she is not working on their writing. What are the potential advantages and distractions of social media?


So my questions to you: What information would you like to hear on these two panels if you were attending? And do you have any insights that might be useful (such as specific books or online resources) to share?

The (Not So) Exciting Conclusion of Woofus

Over the past two weeks, I introduced you to a justifiably overlooked children’s book, Woofus, published in 1944. I acquired the book from my dad, and it was one of his childhood books. In last week’s installment, the second section showed us that what initially seemed to be accidental racism might in fact be a wee bit intentional. That is, unless naming a black cat “Tar Baby” was considered perfectly acceptable in 1944.

Then again, this was the same society that, as chronicled in the James Lilek book, Mommy Knows Worse, thought that placing babies in cage-like cribs suspended outside windows was a great way to get them fresh air.

Now, in this final installment, the chronicle of Woofus concludes (in both dramatic and anticlimactic fashion).

Mom takes a very upsetting phone call

In the story so far, Woofus was born black and “woolly” to a litter full of golden-brown pups. Since no one wanted him, the family was unable to give him away, and he became their favorite object of ridicule. (It has just occurred to me that Woofus lacks a mother, implying that she was given away along with the puppies, perhaps because she had transgressed the puppy code by giving birth to a “funny-looking” dog.)

While on a pic-nic in the woods, Woofus finds a lonely black kitten, who is adopted by the family and then dubbed Tar Baby, presumably so it wouldn’t get too uppity.

As the third act begins, the author laments, “But poor Woofus! He forgot that he must be a good dog.” A neighbor, Mrs. Jones, calls to complain that “Woofus has ruined my vegetable garden.” Mother expresses disbelief, but Mrs. Jones is sure it is “Woofus and no other dog.” Because only black, woolly dogs would ruin a vegetable garden.

Mother’s chestnut-brown eyes grow extremely wide at this news, and even the bow on the back of her apron stands up in alarm.

Mrs. Jones rats out Woofus

Nosy Mrs. Jones has company. The same afternoon, Mrs. Smith calls to inform Mother that Woofus has “pulled her clean clothes off the line and dragged them in the dirt.” Again, Mother expresses disbelief, but Mrs. Smith says she is certain. As evidenced from the illustration, she gets a lot of pleasure from relaying this information. No doubt, she’s just looking for an excuse to use her old-fashioned phone, which hasn’t been ringing much lately. In all likelihood, she doesn’t even have a clothes line.

Woofus knows he is a bad, bad dog

So the entire family takes turns scolding Woofus: first Bobbie, then Jean, then Mother and Daddy. This is, after all, what passes for entertainment in this family. Woofus hangs his head in shame and repeats his mantra: “I am a big dog and a woolly dog. I am a smart dog. I must be a good dog. I must be a brave dog, too.”

Clearly, he believes in the power of positive affirmations. Stuart Smalley would be proud.

Tar Baby looks pathetic

The next afternoon, the family discovers that Woofus is missing. Only Tar Baby is sitting in the kennel yard “all alone and not purring nor looking very happy.” Woofus doesn’t come home for dinner, and the family is sad. Hmm. I can’t imagine why Woofus would be staying away from them, after being yelled at by all four family members without any clear idea of what he’d done wrong. I mean, he came home after a fun day of digging and laundry snatching, and they yelled at him for just walking into the yard!

At this point in the book, I began to suspect that the writer and illustrator had worked completely independently. I believe the process worked like this: The illustrator brought in a portfolio of watercolors showing a family and their two pets. The publishing house liked the work, but especially liked the fact that the artist was willing to sell them the whole package for nearly nothing. They then commissioned a writer to look at the illustrations and turn them into a story. “I know these pictures are a little dull, so use your words to make the story exciting,” they said. “And add just a hint of racism. Children like that.”

The family eats dinner

The family is eating dinner when the telephone rings again. Mother answers it (since answering a phone is, of course, women’s work and she was already up from the table, serving everybody seconds while her own plate of soup sits untouched at her place). She comes back and reports cheerfully that “Tommy Jones fell in the creek and Woofus jumped in and pulled him out and saved him. So Mrs. Jones is not angry about her vegetable garden any more.” You would think that such an exciting scene would have made a better illustration than a view of the family eating tomato soup and mini quiches. But you are not a publisher sitting on a portfolio of generic family illustrations.

Jean is so happy to hear the news that her delight shows in her bright blue eyes. She tries hard not to think about the fact that both her mommy and daddy have brown eyes. Bobbie keeps telling her she’s adopted, but Bobbie is wrong. She resolves to take out her frustration on Woofus when he comes home later.

Mother, Jean and Bobbie stare out the window

Just as the family returns to eating their dinner, the phone rings again. This time it is Mrs. Smith. Mother reports, “She says Woofus is a very brave dog to rescue Tommy Jones from the creek. She is not angry about her wash being pulled off the line now.”

Bobbie and Jean say in unison, “I wish Woofus would come home.” Mother, Jean and Bobbie look out the window eagerly. You can tell from their expressions that something very exciting is happening out there. Don’t you wish you could see it, too?

Woofus bounds happily home

Quite proud of himself, Woofus bounds happily home, watched by a slightly anthropomorphic rabbit with large eyes.

Woofus is given a big bone for his bravery. In deference, Tar Baby doesn’t “try to even get a smell of it” but just sits, watching Woofus and purring. Of course, kittens don’t normally gnaw on giant bones, but don’t let that intrude with your enjoyment of the story.

Bobbie and Jean come down to the kennel and finally give Woofus the acceptance he’s been seeking, telling him “what a good, brave dog” he is and how proud they are to have him.

In his funny dog-talk, he responds, “Woof-woof — woof. Woof-woof.”

Woofus gets his happy ending

On the final page, the author translates his message. In dog language, we’re told, that means, “I am a big dog and I am a woolly dog. I am a smart dog and I try to be a good dog. Now I know I am a brave dog.” Woofus chews on his very special big bone, as the children regard him from a safe distance.

He might be a brave dog, and they’re happy to have him in the family, but they still wouldn’t dream of petting him.

THE END

And now you have had the same reaction that literally dozens of children had in the late 1940s, when given this book by their well-meaning aunts: unblinking silence.

Sure enough, the next night at bedtime, the little kids were clamoring for a bedtime book. “Mommy, could you read me Pat the Bunny again?”

Poor Woofus.

The Increasingly Cringe-Worthy Saga of Woofus Continues

Last week, I introduced you to a (perhaps) accidentally racist children’s book, Woofuswhich I described as “justifiably forgotten.” In a play-by-play of the first section of the book, I told you about poor Woofus, who is the only black puppy in his litter and, as a result, is the recipient of ridicule from his unenlightened human family. I promised you that the next section of the book would be even worse, and just in case you didn’t believe me, here it is.

The family gets ready for the picnic

Next, our perfect 1940s family prepares for a picnic trip in the woods. This, of course, requires peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches (look carefully at both the sandwiches and the ingredients spread on the table), as well as tomatoes and bananas, all packed lovingly into the basket by the 6-year-old girl, who dumps everything in at one end without looking.

The children ask their Daddy if they can bring Woofus with them, and Daddy thinks it over and agrees, reasoning that “he was getting to be too big to keep fenced in all the time.” This implies poor Woofus never gets walks, likely because the family is ashamed to be seen with him. Secretly, the father probably hopes that “funny-looking” Woofus will get lost in the woods.

Pathetic black kitten in a tree

When they arrive in the woods, Woofus is so relieved to have freedom of movement that he runs around, barking. The family’s response, of course, is to laugh because he’s acting “like such a silly dog.” Grateful not to be penned in a back yard? How foolish!

Woofus takes root at the foot of a tree (see what I did there?) and barks so persistently that Bobbie runs over to see what’s going on. At first, he scolds Woofus for the disturbance but then hears a “weak little ‘Me-ow’ from the treetop.” He sees a little black kitten. Aww! Daddy agrees to rescue the wee thing. It may be black, but it is awfully tiny and cute.

Family heads home from woods

Mother and Daddy agree to take the lost little kitten home, although Bobbie wonders aloud if Woofus will like the kitten. Daddy replies that Woofus is smart and that, because he discovered the kitten, they would probably become very good friends. (Though secretly, I believe he’s masking his disappointment that Woofus beat him back to the car so that he couldn’t pretend the dog got accidentally left behind.)

Meanwhile, Jean’s love for the new kitten (which seemingly grows in her arms to nearly full-grown size) has turned her hair from bright blonde to light brunette.

Family ponders a name for the kitten

Upon returning from the woods, the family engages in their favorite activity: pretending to be magazine models. No, not really. They just happen to adopt very dramatic poses while pondering what to name their new kitten. They are so busy thinking they don’t notice that Jean has changed her hair color again, this time going for strawberry blonde.

Daddy suggests… Goofus. Because it rhymes with Woofus, of course. But the rest of the family rejects this name, probably because it’s not offensive enough. How do I know this? Because they readily accept Bobbie’s proposal, and I quote, “Let’s call him Tar Baby because he is as black as tar.”

The rest of the family agree this is a very good name for the little black kitten that Woofus found.

So… still on the fence about whether this book is just a teensie-eensie bit racist? I thought not.

Woofus looks thoughtful

Far from being pleased, Woofus is actually jealous of Tar Baby, who is allowed to climb trees and fences and run into the house, while Woofus has to stay in “his own private dog yard.” This implies that Woofus doesn’t even get the run of the entire backyard but only a “special” fenced-off portion of it. Poor Woofus. If he wanted to be treated better, he should have tried harder to be born blonde like the other puppies in his litter. Then he could have been given away to a family that treats dogs better.

Kitten taunts Woofus

While Tar Baby is busy taunting him, Woofus once more internalizes his problems, dreaming of things he might do so that he would not only be “a big dog and a woolly dog, but a very brave dog.” Maybe that would finally make his family love him.

I should note that, while I was reading this story aloud to KFP, I opted to insert a sentence, saying, “The family decided to change the kitten’s name to Chocolate, because Mommy loved chocolate.” I made this choice because I was worried that KFP would repeat the kitten’s name somewhere, like at preschool or the library, not realizing it was considered a racist slur. This turned out to be a good choice, since Tar Baby would be mentioned by name 13 more times in the story.

Children are awakened by the storm

At this stage in the story, Daddy actually stands up for Woofus, not only reiterating that he’s smart but also asserting that since Woofus is such a good dog, he should be let out of his yard more often. Since there’s no indication that means giving Woofus walks on a leash, maybe he’s secretly hoping the dog will use the opportunity to find a more accepting home.

Then, a nighttime storm, complete with thunder and lightning, makes Bobbie and Jean sit up in their shared bed. The storm is so loud, it has turned Jean’s hair blonde again. Although they can hear the animals crying in distress outside the window, they don’t permit them to come inside. “I wonder if they are getting wet,” Bobbie ponders aloud. Hmm. I wonder.

Silly Woofus should have realized that the only dogs allowed inside this home are the decorative dogs that adorn headboards.

Woofus and Tar Baby curling up together

In the morning, the family discovers the animals huddled for safety together in the dog house. Woofus woofs and woofs, which Bobbie and Jean interpreted as him “telling them that he and Tar Baby were friends.”

Really, he is probably telling them off for leaving him outside during a thunderstorm.

Woofus views his newly painted dog house

Later that day, Daddy has “the painter” add Tar Baby’s name on the dog house, along with “Woofus.” Yes, the family has a painter on retainer but can only afford one bed for the children.

Bobbie and Jean are very pleased with the new sign, as are Tar Baby and Woofus (who after all, can’t read). They are so proud of the sign that they can’t imagine that anybody could ever object to it, and they can’t imagine why, 70 years later, their book will be out of print while that silly “Pat the Bunny” book will still be selling millions.

You would think this would be the end of the story, but it’s only the end of the second act. Woofus still needs to achieve his main goal: true acceptance by the family. He tells himself once more, “I am a big dog. I am a woolly dog, and I am a smart dog. But I must be good and brave so that Bobbie and Jean will always be glad they kept me.”

Will Woofus prove he’s worth keeping?

Will Tar Baby mew pathetically some more?

Will the illustrator ever draw any actual action?

… to be continued…

The Mommy Files: Unsolicited Feedback Rocks!

Other Mothered actresses
Maggie Rogers (left) and Christine Walters in an “Other Mothered” segment

This morning, while I unpacked clean laundry from the laundry basket — only because it was time to fill it with dirty laundry again — my phone pinged to let me know I had an e-mail. In true Pavlovian fashion, I immediately checked it. It was not, as I expected, a Facebook comment, piling on more congratulations for a friend celebrating her anniversary (I really ought to stop following that conversation), or another reminder from Peapod that if I place one more grocery order before Halloween I’ll earn two free deliveries (I began having groceries delivered by Peapod when KFP was 2 and used to scream bloody murder in grocery stores, and I still occasionally use Peapod when I have a busy week). No, instead of any expected, ordinary e-mail, I got something completely awesome: a comment from writer/comedian Christine Walters, whose “Other Mothered” segments on Nick Mom I’d referenced in my recent post, “You’ve Been Other Mothered.”

She commented to say that she’s glad that I like her segments and to point out there’s a new “Other Mothered” video segment on the site, called “The Science Fair.” I just checked it out, and you should, too. This one has only one line (uttered by Christine) and is a classic comedy moment. When you’re done watching that, check out the rest of the “Other Mothered” segments, and you’ll see why I love them so much. I guarantee, if you’re a parent, you’ll find at least one of them you swear was taken from your personal experience.

Maybe for you, like Christine’s comment did for me, they’ll bring some smiles to your laundry day.