Category Archives: Guest Blogger

Composting the Fart: No. 3

Hi, it’s Riley again, here with another edition of COMPOSTING THE FART. More baabishness awaits in this one post. Please, computer….. please don’t explode of baabishness…… Anyways, let’s move on to the first one…

You’re in your room, reading a book. It’s almost lunchtime and you decide to go downstairs to see what’s for lunch. You walk out of your room and you go down the stairs. You walk over to the kitchen and as you walk in, you hear someone in the kitchen. They’re opening the oven and you hear a loud creaking noise, then something is put inside the oven and it is closed again with another CREEAK. You walk all the way into the kitchen and you see BAAB. Now, you realize she has just put pizza in the oven to warm up, and you casually walk by her when suddenly…. you realize…… she is wearing a scarf indoors. I mean, who does that?? It wasn’t even COLD inside the house!! (No offense to anyone who wears scarves indoors when it is pretty hot….. but…… I mean…. that means you’re a baab, too………………….) You walk out of the kitchen knowing that you’re having pizza for lunch. I think that the creaking of the oven was probably NOT the oven……. just saying……….


You’re walking downtown with Baab because Baab says she needs ‘FRESH AIR’. Well, I could’ve guessed that she would need fresh air because of the oatmeal stench of her room….. Well, you’re walking and you’re talking with her about things. BAAAB wants to talk about FEELINGS and that sort of thing. You’re diverting her from the subject by talking about other things in your life that just MIGHT change her mind from talking about all that other junk.. You finally find another thing to talk about, when suddenly Baab stops on the sidewalk.

“A DIIIIIIME.”, she says in her most BAABISH VOICE. “Remember that DIMES are my SIGN to remind me to keep PURSUING my GOALS and keep on GOING.”

She bends down to pick it up, and I’m surprised she didn’t break her back…… but that was the most baabish things she’s ever said………… EVERR.

(BOBA FETT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) (He’s my favorite Star Wars character.)

Lastly but not leastly, here’s a typical everyday thing of a BAAB….

I was writing this post at my dining room table when my little sister asked me to move because she was doing her chore which was cleaning up the dining room. I didn’t want to move, but Baab said she had a place where I could write this post. I followed her into her room, and she pointed to a place next to her closet….. It was a desk-ish thing that has a chair where you could sit, and the chair had a pillow and the desk was covered in BAABISH things. There was a spot where I could set the laptop down so I could write there, though. Baab called it her WRITING SPACE. Where she writes her BAABISH stories and things.

I just think it’s BAABISH that she makes these little NOOKS (<– that’s what she calls them, and it sound baabish) where she can do her BAABISH things.

Anyways, that’s it for now! Thank you for reading this, this is Composting the Fart!


Composting the Fart: Edition 2

Welcome to the second version of Composting the Fart!! For those of you who  don’t know what this is, read the first one. This is a weekly (sorry for not making recent posts) compiling of all Baab’s baabishness. I’m surprised this computer hasn’t exploded yet from Baab pounding her bony tendrils on the keys of this poor thing. Well, anyways, let’s move on.

First of all, it’s almost dinnertime and you’re downstairs sitting on the couch. You hear Baab talking in the kitchen with Scoby (for those of you that don’t know, that’s Steve, Baab’s husband. We call him Scoby because he makes kombucha…. you should research it.). They’re just talking about boring adult things. You walk into the kitchen to ask what’s for dinner. Before they can answer, you immediately suggest a restaurant. They say no. Then, Baab suggests LEFTOVERS that date back to two weeks ago. Scoby agrees, and now guess what:

You’re eating warmed up pizza from last-last Friday, all thanks to BAAB.

Second, you’re in the car driving somewhere. You’re riding silently and looking at all the things outside. There’s trees, telephone wires, more trees, birbs, signs, cars, and some more trees.

You are sitting in a peaceful atmosphere…. until….. SUDDENLY…… BAAB turns on her BAABISH BEATS with the Bluetooth speaker. You are now listening to classical music and some baabish singers in between. Baab’s classical funk has taken over your peaceful atmosphere.

Finally, best for last…… It’s the first Sunday of the month, the day when you get Little Caesars pizza. You’re excited for this, and so are your siblings. Baab has decided on getting one chez pizza and one pepperoni pizza. She’s getting a Sierra Mist, too. While Baab is driving there, she is deciding on a movie to watch later.

“I want to make a list of all the (baabish) movies I want to watch.”, said Baab.

Your sister uses Baab’s phone to ‘find some movies’ as she says. She finds a list and starts reading them off. She reads about twelve of them, and each one Baab says she wants to watch or re-watch.

Your sister laughs.

“What?”, Baab asks her.

“I looked up movies for old people and I was reading off a list categorized as ‘movie list for the older generation’.”, she replies.

That’s all for now, humans! I will try to keep up with my posts, and sorry that I didn’t. What are your thoughts about Baab? Are YOU a Baab?? How many fingers am I holding up??? Anyways, thank you for reading, this is Composting the Fart!


Composting the Fart: The Weekly BAAB

Welcome to the all new edition of COMPOSTING THE FART!! You know how people always say ‘people on the internet are not what they seem’? Well Baab sure isn’t someone you would think wrote this Baabish BLOOG (maybe she is….. she is super cringey and baabish on her blog….). How many subscribers does she have? Oh wait, does someone like her even know what a subscriber IS?? Anyways, Composting the Fart will be the weekly compiling of all Baab’s Baabish moments during the week. I hope you enjoy this first edition!! -Riley (Guest Poster and Editor of Composting the Fart)

AHEM. First off. It’s an ordinary day, you come downstairs and you’re getting ready for school, and you’re halfway through breakfast. You’re eating cereal peacefully while others at the table are eating their breakfast, too. Suddenly you hear GALUMPH. GALUMPH. GALUMPH. And BAAAB walks out of the kitchen wearing her BAABISH BATHROBE. Then you hear her saying, “I wish my eyes would wake up.”, and you sit there thinking, Baab….. your eyes have woken up. (0.0)

SECONDD!! It’s Valentines day and you come downstairs and you see some chocolate at your table spot. ‘For you’. And you are happy and you’re walking around until…. SUDDENLY….. You realize the mantle…. IS COVERED IN BAABISH DECOR!! (Notice: I said decor because that sounds like a Baab trying to be hip). There’s flowers (mostly dead), weird animal things you made two years ago with your nestmates (yes, Baab keeps those weird things), and that one weird picture that has nothing to do with Valentines day but Baab pulls it out anyway (That rhymed. I’m studying to be a poet.).

Here is the third BAABISHLY BAAAAB. You’re riding home from Water Works listening to ‘The Greatest Showman’ because it just so happens to be a good musical. You’re favorite song from that comes on (I don’t know what it is called, sadly, but it’s the one where the dude is making a deal with another man at a bar). You’re listening to your favorite song and singing along in your head, when…. SUDDENLY…. BAAB starts snapping her BONY TENDRILS (AKA fingers) to the song! You’re favorite song is now ruined. Maybe you’ll start liking classical music like a BAAB (Yes, if you’re a Baab you’ll have a hankering to listen to your BAABISH BEATS.).

Finally. Best for last, I always say. If this ever happens in your home, somewhere there’s a Baab. It could be you. Anyways, you wake up from your nap and realize you need to rotate the wash so you’ll have some clean clothes for tomorrow. You walk upstairs to the laundry room to do so. You lumber on over to the drier (like a Baab) to open it. The drier doesn’t have a handle, so you either have to painfully pry it open with your fingers, or you have to take forever to use this weird yellow thing to open it. You manage to get the drier open and there….. you see with your very eyes….. one of THE MOST Baabish things in the history of BAAB….. all of Baab’s SWEATERS. “I had to wash them for my trip”, Baab says. “Like I always say (Note: never listen to Baab’s advice) always come prepared!” Maybe Baab should decide not to scare the fashionistas away this time…. Maybe Baab could crochet a new sweater from all the lint that collected in the drier from that load. After I wrote this, I realized…. no WONDER the drier doesn’t have a handle!

Drier: (Sniffle) I will never feel the same way again…..

Anyways, that’s it for this week’s WEEKLY BAAB. Thank you for reading, this is COMPOSTING THE FART!


McClay Family Electronic Limitations ~ Guest Blogger Chloe

In our family, electronics are specifically limited to very strict rules. These are some of the original rules with pros and cons.

Rule one: “You are not allowed to possess any electronics under the age of ten”. It doesn’t sound so bad, and sometimes it isn’t. But as times change, and more electronics are made, this rule gets harder to deal with. By this year, most children have electronics by the age of eight or nine, and those who don’t begin to want one by nine. One pro of this rule is kids spend more time doing other things, though this isn’t always true. A con is that with music, young kids have more ways to deal with problems. One idea I suggest for those of you who are considering adding this rule to your own family list is to let your kids have music devices, as well as simple electronics like a gameboy or tablet for trips or special use.

Rule two: “You are not allowed to possess a phone until the age of sixteen”. This is possibly the hardest rule for kids. By sixth and seventh grade, the last few children who don’t have phones begin to get them, leaving the families with stricter parents with not many ways to contact family or communicate with friends. This gets harder as kids get older, their friends begin getting phones, and more phones are made, as well as more uses for phones. Doesn’t a tear come to your eye just thinking about the poor children, sitting alone, set apart from society from lack of a phone? Plus, quite a few children live in neighborhoods with not many to even no children their age, as I do. They don’t have friends their age to hang out with, and no phone to contact the friends that live elsewhere. Having a phone also helps contact people for important reasons, and there are many more needs for a phone today then there were when my parents first made this rule. Let me put it this way: what would you do if Abe Lincoln came back from the past, grabbed your stove, microwave, lights, computer, salt lamp, and ran away? Exactly. I see you moms crying, thinking about someone stealing your precious salt lamps. I know, nothing can truly convey the misery of a phoneless middle-high schooler, because though many parents these days know what it was like to not have something everyone else had back in school, only about nine percent of parents today knew what a phone was back then. And even then, not everyone would have had one.

Rule three: “Children below the age sixteen have a strictly set amount of media per day”. This is possibly the second worst rule, right below the phone rule. It started with the token system, of course. You had tokens, each equivalent to fifteen minutes of computer or game console. However, when one of my sibling got smart and used them all at once for two hours of media, and other siblings found new ways to make it seem like they were following the rule, this system evaporated. And for you kids reading, here’s a way to cheat the system: One way is to rattle the token box to make it seem like you put tokens in. Another is to buy your own set of poker tokens. Thank me later. After this, the situation was fifteen minutes of media a day. Can you hear the 22nd century crying? But as attitudes changed about this rule, it was fifteen minutes only on weekends. Wow, this is worse than a horror movie. And now it’s an hour and fifteen minutes on weekends. This rule is okay, unless it’s your own electronic. For more about this, see the next rule.

Rule four: “Hmm, you spent how much money to buy your own electronic? Well, too bad, ‘cause it’s mine now”. The new 0.5 worst rule in the world. After age ten, you have an option to buy electronics if you use your own money. But no sir, that doesn’t mean you can use them! One example of this was my laptop. Now, like phones, laptops aren’t allowed until the age sixteen, but this was an exception. That is, until someone cracked it and mom and dad decided not to let me get a new one. Well, back when I had it, I was almost never allowed to use it. Mom and Dad hid it in their room, never let me have it on weekdays, never let me use it in my room, often made me sit at the dining room table, and only gave me about half an hour a day. Once I forgot my password, and when I asked Dad he wouldn’t tell me, so I couldn’t even unlock it. Dad was taking full advantage of me forgetting. In my opinion, you should let your kids have laptops, know the password, and use them whenever. I didn’t pay over a hundred dollars I made cleaning buildings to never get to use the laptop I bought. Oh wait, I did.

Rule five: “No privacy”. I hate this rule, as did many other siblings. Dad and Mom used to let us close the computer cabinet so we wouldn’t have people looking at what we were doing over our shoulder. But for a while, Dad has forced us to keep the door open. I wouldn’t suggest a family computer in the dining room, by the way, either, if privacy is even a bit important to you.

Rule six: “You aren’t allowed to listen to anything even slightly bad on the radio”. This rule was worst when Shannon was a kid. She had her own taste in music, but often couldn’t listen to what she wanted. Now, though there aren’t as many limitations, we still can’t listen to anything.

If possible, I might add onto this list later, but I have one suggestion for parents considering these rules: You don’t understand your kid as much as you think you do. You need to listen to them, and consider trusting them. Don’t try to make up their minds for them, or guess about what will happen if you get them something. You’re not them.

New Puppy Dewey. / Guest

Do you know what it feels like for orphan eyes, almost all pupil, STARING at you? A tiny, tiny thing, gazing at you from behind bars?

Well this started not long before my sisters birthday. I knew she was getting a guinea pig, my little sister had said that she and my brother were going to get her one. That night I talked to my dad, I wanted the first pet. My dog.

After we talked, my youngest sister was in bed, and dad got on the computer. How would you like a Cocker Spaniel? Not what I thought I would get, but I like all dogs. Sure dad.  Then dad looked them up. Oh, it’s fine, they are hard to take care of.

Well, dad kept on looking, till he looked on the SPCA list of dogs. We saw Dewey, 2 month old puppy, in play stand. Dad said, He is cute, but we can’t have a puppy.

The next day, Wednesday, we were talking about dogs at the dinner table. My older brother said, If we got a dog I would want a puppy. And so the conversation went.

After dinner dad looked on his phone, The SPCA is open till ( sometime ) on Wednesday. Let’s get in the car. I rushed everyone out of the house.

When we got there, we went to the puppy room. Teeny black orphan eyes, Glossy black, dark brown, and just a hint of grey coat, wagging not-docked tail, one ear flopping, the other up, the puppy smell, corners of the mouth turned up, glossy white teeth but all through bars.

Mom had a surprise. All the I thought he was TEN months old! junk.

She and my younger sister stayed out of the room, touched by the dog barking. Harry, the older puppy in the cage beside Dewey, watched us. I could have cried.


The front desk said we could walk Dewey around the front yard, and dad said he might use the bathroom. He didn’t until dad scratched him under the chin.

We came to see him every day, loving him more every time.

Thursday, we found out ANOTHER FAMILY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING HIM, THEY WERE APPROVED, AND WE WEREN’T! Out cat needed a  vet appointment and shots.

However, God opened a place at the vet for her that day. The next morning I rushed everyone out of the house, I needed Dewey. Right when the lady unlocked the doors, we were two steps behind. We took the small puppy outside, and we ran, me and him. All around the yard.

Running with Dewey

After that, we crated him in the pet carrier and filled out the papers. He was mine. MY dog. 2 good 2 b true.

When we took him home he explored everywhere.  Later we took him to Pet-co.  We were getting him things when My sister came. “Dad dad! I found the perfect Guinea Pig!!!” Mom and dad talked, and for an early b-day present, She came home with a guinea-pig.


At the check-out, Dewey had a great idea! ” Hey, how about I pee on the clean floor? ” And that’s just what he did. Charming.

Dewey spit-up a lot but stopped soon.


Even now, he pees on the floor. For instance, Me, him, brother, and my 2 sisters were rough-housing on the living room floor. Mom told us many times, Don’t let him pee on the floor in there. And just as we were going to take him outside, he peed. I had to sneak around the house for things to clean up with.

He has eaten peanut butter, bacon, purina, and anything safe I give him. We took him to klines, and got him a doggie bowl. A scoop of vanilla, topped with a milkbone.

When Wren comes over, we watch them horse around, Dewey yelping for mercy, then chasing, (little did he know Wren was going slower for him.) He tries to climb on top of her to bite, but always ends up under.

We took him to the vet a few weeks later and he is new 5 months, so the SPCA was wrong,

=D Deweys the best. Cuter then all pups on earth. And My brother and youngest sister are almost fully thinking of him as part of the family.


Buddy’s Saturday Adventure ~ Guest Blogger

It all started when I woke up on Saturday morning.

I forgot to feed my guinea pig Buddy because I wanted to look at the clock to see if it was eight o’ clock. The reason I wanted to was because I wanted to pick episodes on netflix with my brother and sisters. The reason we had to wait till eight was because our mom and dad said we HAD to wait till eight.

So after we watched episodes on netflix, I told my mom that I would be washing Buddy. She went and cleaned the cage for me. ( I have a really nice mom. )

When I finished washing Buddy I took him down stairs. My mom was finishing putting the bedding in Buddy’s cage. I told her I was taking Buddy outside, so when I did my little sister put the cage down and I put Buddy in the cage. ( The cage wasn’t all the cage it didn’t have the floor part so it was just the top. )

Well, a little while later I wanted to flip the cage top so the top of it was on the ground. (Note: do NOT do this it is a very stupid idea. )

So when I did my little sister asked if I wanted a Danimal, and I said yes. She asked me if I wanted a straw. I said no but then yes. So when she went in I turned around and started snapping my fingers. When I turned around BUDDY WAS GONE.

I started freaking out and crying. My guinea pig was GONE! When my little sister came outside she started looking too. Then she told me to come and I came. When I came she told me to listen. I could hear a cat and a guinea pig noise. I started to worry, ” What if Buddy is being killed by a cat!? ”

My little sister asked if she could go get mom, and I said ” YES PLEASE DO! ”

When my mom came outside she started looking. A few minutes later my mom thought about how Buddy liked to hide in his hutch, so I started looking behind and in stuff. Then my MOM found BUDDY in the fire wood.

(We found Buddy in that little empty space you see here.)

wood pile

I was SO HAPPY I was glad God helped us and that I have ( and I really do. ) an AWESOME mom! ~ Roo

Editor’s note. This is all Roo’s original work. Paragraph editing only. Editor did NOT add any comments relating to Roo’s mom, who has at other times been rumored to be the WORST MOM EVER! The verdict is still out on that one.