Happy New Year!

BB asked me,

“Did you make any resolutions?”

“I did not.”

Although based on the YMCA parking lot last week, plenty of people did. They appear to use their membership one month per year.

I resolve many things at many different times and accomplish or don’t accomplish them on a regular basis throughout the year. No need to put so much pressure on poor January.

Years ago I resolved to never have an Alexa in my home. She is now in almost every room. And if you’re in a room without one, you’re close enough to yell for her and multiple Alexas will respond.

I thought I didn’t want her because she’d be listening to everything all the time. And maybe she is. But my phone has the same capabilities, so if all these contraptions want to listen to me as I make my kids’ poop talk, so be it.

Twenty-year-old Jessica did not know this about 41-year-old Jessica. I talk for MANY inanimate objects. So much so, that when they’re quiet, BB or RB will yell,

“Make the Frosted Mini-Wheats talk!”

In a moment of morning merriment, I made a bowl of cereal chat with 2-year-old BB. Now five years later no one will eat until I make the shredded wheat speak.

It has lost its spontaneity, but does not seem to have lost its entertainment value.

I don’t have a ton of different voices. Frosted Mini-Wheats, started out sounding like a Mafia boss, but now sounds very similar to Poop. Pee sounds very similar to Toothbrush. The houseplants vary and sound very similar to everyone else.

“OUCH! Please don’t rip my leaves off while you’re sitting on the toilet.”

Yes I could move the plant away from the bathroom, but that’s a great south facing window right there.

Why, you may be wondering, do I make all these things speak to my children? I do not have a good answer. As I cajoled a belligerent, backed up RB to spend a little extra time on the toilet, she refused. I was at my wits end, I said,

“Hi! I’m your poop! I want to go for a swim in the toilet.”

RB dropped her pants, hopped up on the toilet and said,

“Ok poopy, come on out, you can go for a swim!”

And she pooped.

The talking objects can accomplish in seconds, what my mom voice never will.

The other day RB yelled from the bathroom,

“I need someone to wipe me!”

“Ok!”

“It’s just one, she doesn’t have any friends or family.”

One lonely poop.

Yes, I make poop’s friends and family talk too. RB is in a rush to get off the toilet and the only thing worse than wiping her poopy butt, is wiping it multiple times a day because she won’t sit long enough to let the whole community out.

When we first got Alexa, I thought we turned off the voice purchasing abilities. We did not.

It didn’t take BB long to discover that she could ask Alexa to make fart noises and Alexa will politely accommodate her all afternoon.

After hours of this, Alexa asked,

“Would you like to buy the fart extension pack?”

BB shouts,

“YES!”

Fart extension pack purchased. I rushed to my Amazon account determined to fight this. I was charged $1.60 “to take farting to the next level.”

Fine, I thought. Not a huge expense, despite that the reviews “disagree on value, quality, and sound.”

Turns out the money is the least of it. It’s about how many hours/years of constant fart noises, songs, games my sanity can sustain.

RB has spent the last two years screaming,

“Aleska!!!”

Alexa does not respond to that, which makes RB FURIOUS. She continues to scream ALESKA ALESKA ALESKA, but that is a welcome change to one hundred farts in a row.

AI has won over my kids with potty humor on demand, but still can’t compete with my inanimate object voices.

Yesterday BB burst into the house from the bus singing a tongue twister. I exclaim,

“That’s a lot of alliteration!”

“How do YOU know about alliteration?”

Oh no! I have entered the Land of Parents Who Know Nothing. When in doubt, we’ll ask Alexa.