The Crab Chronicles

Your Reading Assignment

We are in the midst of an arctic cold snap here in Hot-Lanta. The high temps all this week are predicted to be in the 30's and we have a 40% chance of SNOW on Thursday.

I had to run errands and go to the grocery store today, and it was a pretty lackluster day. Mother's computer had to be fixed. The kids had to do laundry. I made them get backpacks ready for tomorrow.

I had some drama with Alesia but I can't blog about it. We got it resolved, I am pretty sure.

I have managed to get a little bit of writing done.

Years ago I wrote a comedic screenplay called The Theory of Hip Movement. I am trying to turn it into a book. I don't know if anyone will find it remotely interesting or want to read it. So I wrote the first chapter and it's below. It's not long in Word, though it looks lengthy here. I'd be grateful if you'd read it and simply answer 2 questions for me either in a comment or email.

1) Do you like the main character, Lucy?

2) Do you think it's interesting enough to want to read more?!

The Theory of Hip Movement

 

 

Chapter One

 

Lucy Beall stood at the window of the bride’s room at St. Phillips Cathedral wearing nothing but a bra and slip, and watched a multi-colored hot air balloon sail across the sky, the couple in it dressed in black tee shirts, waving. She wanted to wave back, but suddenly the balloon with two people going far away seemed like a bad omen.

 

Lucy closed her eyes and repeated her mantra for the day: I am twenty-eight years old. I love Alan. It’s time. I’m not getting any younger.

 

“Lucy!” her mother shrieked behind her. “You’re not dressed! The wedding starts in thirty minutes have you LOST YOUR MIND?!”

 

Lucy sighed heavily and looked over at the gorgeous white silk Vera Wang dress hanging near the door. “You ordered a size 4, Mother. I am a size 8. It doesn’t fit.”

 

Eleanor, dressed head to toe in a grey Chanel suit and looking much like a cross between Dolly Parton and Catherine Deneuve, was having none of it. “You’re a size 6. I TOLD you to lay off the chili cheese fries and Red Stripes! I don’t know how you keep from being hawg fat but you ARE going to squeeze into the dress young lady. I brought the corset!”

 

Eleanor pulled out a corset that would’ve fit Scarlet O’Hara before pregnancy and shook it at her daughter. The laces jumped in the air and emitted a foul smell, of old Talcum powder and desperation.

 

Lucy pulled herself up to her full five foot three and glared at Eleanor, who was just over 5’4 in heels. “I am NOT wearing that instrument of torture. I knew you’d pull something like this, Mother. I brought another dress.”

 

Lucy nodded to the lacy old-fashioned dress hanging on the opposite wall. The three bridesmaids stopped chattering and stood silently, like witnesses to a gunfight in the old west.

 

Eleanor approached the alternative dress, squinting, too vain to fish around for her glasses. As she stared, a look of disgust spread across her face. “That was Great Granny Beall’s dress. It’s too old. You’ll rip it.”

 

“No, I won’t!” Lucy retorted. “I had it restored. Caroline!”

 

Her best friend Caroline grabbed the older dress and flew to Lucy’s side. The dress slid easily over hear head and Caroline started fastening the buttons in the back.

 

“See?! It’s beautiful. And it FITS,” Lucy told her mother triumphantly.

 

Eleanor reached over to an elaborate Louis Vuitton overnight bag filled with makeup and hair products and pulled out a thermos.

 

Caroline muttered, almost to herself, “Oh my God. She’s starting on the martinis before 5 p.m. This is bad.”

 

Lucy shot her a look and stepped over to her mother’s side.

 

“Look, Mama, I know you wanted me in the Wang, but I love this dress, and Granny Beall told me once she wanted me to wear it when I got married.”

 

Eleanor sighed. “By the time you knew Granny she had hardening of the arteries. She told me I looked like Glinda the Good Witch from the Wizard of Oz. She told your brother he had the face of a sheepdog. She mistook the yard man for FDR. She was always saying crazy things.”

 

Caroline, who had walked over to the window to check out the weather, gasped. The bride’s room window faced a small courtyard and Alan, the groom, was outside in the courtyard quietly vomiting into a hydrangea bush.

 

Eleanor heard the gasp and saw Caroline’s face. She was the first to reach the window. Lucy was right behind her.

 

“Yikes. He looks like he just ate a meatball sub and a ton of dill pickles!” exclaimed Lucy, who liked to describe icky things accurately.

 

A knock sounded at the door. Thad Beall pushed the door open a crack, “Are y’all decent?! I’m trying to find Mama.”

 

Eleanor hurried to the door. “Get OUT! I have a job for you!” she hissed. She shot Caroline a reproachful look and went out the door.

 

Lucy again looked out at Alan, who was now white-faced and leaning heavily on his best friend Will’s side.

 

This was not going as planned. Not at all.

 

Driving Lessons

I was so tired last night I fell into bed and was dead to the world for over 7 hours before I had to get up and wee wee. That's rare. I didn't really do much of anything yesterday either. Maybe it was just delayed holiday fatigue.

Alesia has her last day of driving classroom instruction at Taggart's today. I am ready for her to be done. I pulled into the driveway a little fast last night and she screamed "You're driving recklessly! You're going to KILL US ALL!!" Oh brother. She's also taken to pointing out things to me like "That trailer just ahead of us could be improperly secured. Be ready to pull over to the side of the road if necessary."

I finally said to her last night, through clenched teeth, "I have been driving more than 30 years, I KNOW how to drive, kiddo!"  Grrr....

We had a very low-key day yesterday. I went to Penney's and returned a bedspread Mother got me for Christmas. That was it as far as productivity.

Joanne and her family toured around Emory University [her and her hubby's alma mater] yesterday, and did some shopping. We went over to their hotel last night and did some swimming in the indoor pool. Very nice pool, but not enough chairs. The chairs there, however, were not normal pool chairs, but were plastic Adirondack chairs. Looked pretty snazzy.

Lots going on today, to prepare for Mother's birthday tomorrow.
 

Silly Sunday

Two days after Christmas and it just now feels like life is returning to "normal" - whatever that means.

Bruce cooked breakfast for everyone - open-faced sandwiches with cheese, tomato, and fried eggs. yummy. He used mayonnaise where I would've used butter, but still very tasty.

He left shortly after that for the 3 hour drive back to Columbia, and the kids and I went to Walmart. They got a birthday present for Granny [her birthday is New Year's eve] and various and sundry other things including minutes for Michael's phone.

Alesia wants a new phone. I told her the next one will have to be her responsibility - she can pay $20 for minutes or pay $50 for a new phone. I let her know my opinion on the matter. Smart kid, foolish choices - isn't there a book by that title?!

Michael spent the afternoon playing at his friend Clay's house, which was good. He needs to be around other little boys.

No other news, so I thought I'd share some silliness. #22 is my fave.

1. How Do You Catch a Unique Rabbit?

Unique Up On It.

 

2. How Do You Catch a Tame Rabbit?

Tame Way.

 

3. How Do Crazy People Go Through The Forest?

They Take The Psycho Path

 

4. How Do You Get Holy Water?

You Boil The Hell Out Of It     
 

5. What Do Fish Say When They Hit a Concrete Wall?

Dam!                

 

6. What Do Eskimos Get From Sitting On The Ice too Long?

Polaroid's

 

7. What Do You Call a Boomerang That Doesn't work?

A Stick

 

8. What Do You Call Cheese That Isn't Yours?

Nacho Cheese.

 

9. What Do You Call Santa's Helpers?

Subordinate Clauses.

 

10. What Do You Call Four Bullfighters In Quicksand?

Quattro Sinko.

 

11. What Do You Get From a Pampered Cow?

Spoiled Milk.

 

12. What Do You Get When You Cross a Snowman With a Vampire?

Frostbite.

 

13. What Lies At The Bottom Of The Ocean And Twitches?

A Nervous Wreck.

 

14.. What's The Difference Between Roast Beef And Pea Soup?

Anyone Can Roast Beef.

 

15. Where Do You Find a Dog With No Legs?

Right Where You Left Him.

 

16. Why Do Gorillas Have Big Nostrils?

Because They Have Big Fingers

 

17. Why Don't Blind People Like To Sky Dive?

Because It Scares The Dog.

 

18. What Kind Of Coffee Was Served On The Titanic?

Sanka.

 

19. What Is The Difference Between a Harley And a Hoover?! The Location Of The Dirt Bag.

 

20. Why Did Pilgrims' Pants Always Fall Down?

Because They Wore Their Belt Buckle On Their Hat.

 

21. What's The Difference Between a Bad Golfer And a Bad Skydiver?

A Bad Golfer Goes, Whack, Dang!

A Bad Skydiver Goes Dang! Whack .

 

22. How Are a Texas Tornado And a Tennessee Divorce The Same?

Somebody's Gonna Lose A Trailer
 

Non-Hallmark Christmases

I imagine most bloggers are aiming for some sort of warm and fuzzy blog today, since it’s Christmas Eve. Not me. I want to say here, out loud and proud, Christmas at my house is often NOT like a Hallmark commercial.

 

 

Some years are better than others, but it’s NEVER a Hallmark Christmas. Who the hell ever has those, anyway?! Something always goes kaflooey. [I was reminded of that yesterday because we waited all day for my brother to arrive, and then finally at 6 p.m. he called and said he had been waiting for a package and wouldn’t make it over here until this morning.]

 

 

We don’t have a ton of relatives to the house at Christmas. We’re lucky to scare up a distant cousin. My paternal grandparents died before I was born. I have 2 paternal uncles and 2 maternal uncles. They always spend Christmas with their wives’ families. Since I have no aunts, no extended family gatherings happen, although sometimes we used to get together with mom’s brothers at Thanksgiving.

 

 

My mother’s parents used to come over around Christmas when I was a kid, but they always left Christmas day, to spend the rest of the holiday with Mamaw’s brother Ralph, and her various other siblings. She had 12 siblings.

 

 

Sometime when I was a kid, I remember visiting Ralph’s house. Ralph was a tall man and he disliked kids. He certainly made it clear I was of no more consequence to him than a pesky fly. Mamaw’s sisters Hazel, Marcel, and Miriam were sweet to me.

Mamaw’s sister Dot was – how can I say this diplomatically?!- she was pure EVIL. She told me I couldn’t decorate Ralph’s tree and took the ornament out of my hand. Picture Cruella DaVille, as an old lady. That was Dot.

 

 

Anyway, Mamaw’s relatives were a mixed bag of good and evil. I didn’t find out until long after Papaw was dead and I was grown that he had actually had siblings, too – 7 of them. Mamaw didn’t care much for his siblings so we never saw them. Ironically, the table I now use in my kitchen, which is over 100 years old, was made by Papaw’s father more than 100 years ago, and given to Papaw by his sister – either Daisy or Georgia, not sure which. My parents had just gotten married and had no furniture. I didn’t know the other Hastys, except Frank, who is a Hasty cousin but more like a sibling to Mom.

 

 

Papaw had to come over when I was a kid, because Dad couldn’t manage Christmas presents on his own – the ones that said “Assembly required.” We have an old black and white photo somewhere of Daddy and Papaw in the kitchen. Dad was drinking a cocktail and Papaw was probably drinking coffee, because he had to put together all the toys and bicycles. Dad couldn’t put together anything but a financial portfolio. Mechanical things were beyond him. Thank God my grandfather was handy with tools.

Anyway, as I said, big family gatherings at Christmas didn’t happen for us. That wasn’t the only odd thing, though.

 

 

My brother told me when I was about 8 and he was 11 that there was no Santa, and showed me my presents, in my parents’ closet. Every year after that, he checked out the presents way ahead of time, so Christmas morning was not interesting to him, and he could hardly be roused from the bed. I would be losing my mind with excitement. We had to go see everything together, as a rule. One year he wrapped himself in the bedcovers like a mummy and Dad had to go in his room and scream for 5 minutes before Bruce would agree to get up. I think he was a teenager.

 

 

Brother still moves slow on Christmas morning but I try to make coffee available, so the torture is short-lived.

 

I love this photo of Bruce with Santa, because he looks so skeptical...

 

 

One year, before the big Santa letdown, we got Mom and Dad up before dawn, opened presents, and ate breakfast, all before 7 a.m. Mom and Dad were zombies that day.

 

 

When I was 5 or 6, I demanded a babydoll that spun around like a ballerina. She was heavily advertised on TV and I was a TV-aholic kid. I begged and cried, and finally Mother gave in and got me the doll. I played with her 5 minutes, got bored, and went off to make mudpies or something. Mother still tells that story to this day, about the waste of money for that doll.

 

 

That might have been the same year Dad took me shopping for the first time and I bought pajamas for Mother that were about 3 sizes too small. I insisted she put them on, and cried and carried on. She couldn’t get them on. Dad explained he wasn’t good with sizes but I cried and wouldn’t be appeased.

 

 

The year I was 7, my brother got the coolest toys, and I didn’t. I stole all his toys and played with them, and screamed and cried, and had a hissy fit. I still remember the top, the football jersey, the puzzle. All things I wanted. I was so jealous of my cousin Terri who, although a girl, was allowed her very own Hot Wheels and a track! It was horribly unfair.

 

 

One year when I was about 10, Mother was very sick with the flu. Dad cooked hamburgers on the grill for Christmas dinner. He used to make terrible hamburgers – raw inside, stinking of gas. It’s amazing we could eat them. [I could do a whole blog on my father’s limited cooking skills.]

 

One year when I was in high school, some friends of ours, the Wheelers, decided to hide their boys presents in our house, and I guess my parents hid our presents in their house. I went in the guest room and looked at all of Jeff's presents every day and was extremely jealous because he got so many cool albums. To this day, I think of Jeff Wheeler when I hear any song by Lynrd Skynrd.

 

Some years, my dad insisted on having Christmas parties for his department. I remember one party where he got looped and came out and streaked around the living room, butt-nekkid except for possibly a hat. I was in middle school. I remember wishing he would run faster.

 

 

The first year after my brother was in the army, he couldn’t come home for Christmas. Dad sat around and cried all day. Every year after that if Bro couldn’t make it home, we would open presents with little enthusiasm, and mostly just sat around all day looking at the walls, either bored [me] or crying [Mom and Dad].

 

 

It is for that reason that I have never once, in all my 47 years, not spent Christmas with my parents. I’ve only missed Thanksgiving once, and that was when I was in Russia finishing up adopting Alesia.

 

 

One year in Knoxville, I was making so little money as a paralegal I couldn’t pay my bills. I got a part-time job working at a book store, so I could make some extra money. I was working 40 hours a week at a firm, then 15-25 hours at night and on weekends. I was a wreck after a week of that. By the time Christmas Day came around, I was a total zombie. I was seriously sleep deprived. I had been having nightmares about customers giving me long lists of books to find and only 5 minutes to find them in that huge store. Not only that, what little money I had made had been spent on books – turning me loose with an employee discount in a book store was a huge mistake - I was like a junkie and books were my drug of choice. Plus they sold music and other little gift items. I think I actually ended up owing the store money by the time I was laid off in January.

 

 

One year when I was in my 20’s, Mother was sick and I made Christmas dinner. It wasn’t cold hamburgers, but the whole dinner was exhausting, even just for the 5 of us [Bruce was married]. The words "cook the turkey" haunt me to this day.

 

 

 

Christmases with my kids have been largely happy, except for last year. Bruce was in Iraq and my aunt and uncle both died 2 days before Christmas. So last year was not stellar. However, Michael developed a love of Christmas which was been so cute. This year he has been very enthusiastic about decorating, baking, and riding around at night to look at lights.

 

 

 

I figure, if you get one great Christmas out of 10, you're doing well. Of course, my idea of "great" has nothing to do with Christmas gifts. My best Christmas ever was 2004, the year I became a mom.

 

Merry Christmas!!

I HATE Political Correctness!!

We've had a nice day, but a busy one. Here are the highlights: Alesia had her first day of driving school classes, and was gone all day, after I took her this morning. I spent half an hour in line at the post office mailing off a book to a reader in Ireland. Mother and Mike and I went to Kroger. I did laundry. I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the rug. I did more laundry. I fed the dog. I baked a cake which I split into 3 loaf pans for gifts. I fed Coco again. I picked up Alesia. Checked email. Heated up dinner.

Exhausting, huh?! Maybe it doesn't sound like it, but it was a tiring day. Dinner was simply leftover soup from the other night. Tomorrow I have to really clean house because Bruce comes on Wed. for the holiday weekend. Our vacuum quit working the other day so I am praying we will get it back by Wed. Otherwise I plan to wrap duct tape around my feet, sticky side out, and walk all over the carpet...

I have seen this funny holiday email a bunch of times, but the version I got today was more elaborate, and to me more funny, than past versions. It illustrates one of my pet peeves, political correctness. I HATE it! Case in point: I tell people Merry Christmas, every chance I get. Now, if you're Jewish and I know that, I might say Happy Chanukah or Happy Holidays, but most people I know celebrate Christmas and I say it. If a Jewish person tells me Happy Chanukah, I tell them that back! It doesn't offend me. Ditto for Happy Kwanzaa; I'd say it back. I had a falling out with a friend a few years ago because of this exact, silly thing.

So here's what I consider one of the funniest things ever.

Thank you for the humorous email, Cousin Doug!!

A series of emails from the office party planner.

 

From: Bud G]
Sent: Saturday, December 19, 2009 7:33 PM
To:
Subject: The Office Christmas Party

 FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 1, 2009
RE: Gala Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company
Christmas Party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in
the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar
and plenty of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional
carols... Feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our CEO
shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00
PM. Exchanges of gifts among employees can be done at that time;
however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts
Easy for everyone's pockets. This gathering is only for employees!
Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!

Merry Christmas to you and your family,
Patty

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 2, 2009
RE: Gala Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to
exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Hanukkah is an
important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though
unfortunately not this year. However, from now on, we’re calling it
our “Holiday Party." The same policy applies to any other employees
who are not Christians and to those still celebrating Reconciliation
Day. There will be no Christmas tree and no Christmas carols will be
sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment.
Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family,
Patty


--------------------------------------------------------
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 3, 2009
RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of
Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, you didn't sign
your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign
on a table that reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore.
How am I supposed to handle this?

Somebody?

And sorry, but forget about the gift exchange,
no gifts are allowed since the union members feel that $10.00 is too
much money and the executives believe $10.00 is a little chintzy.
REMEMBER: NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.
PATTY

--------------------------------------------------------
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
To: All Employees
DATE: October 4, 2009
RE: Generic Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea
that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which
forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours. There goes the
party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of
year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs. Perhaps the
Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the
party or else package everything for you to take it home in little
foil doggy baggy. Will that work?

Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight
Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet, and pregnant women
will get the table closest to the restrooms.

Gays are allowed to sit with each other.

Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men; each group will have their
own table.

Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the
gay men's table.

To the person asking permission to cross
dress, the Grill House asks that no cross-dressing be allowed,
apparently because of concerns about confusion in the restrooms.
Sorry.

We will have booster seats for short people.
Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet.

I am sorry to report that we cannot control
the amount of salt used in the food. The Grill House suggests that
people with high blood pressure taste a bite first.

There will be fresh "low sugar" fruits as
dessert for diabetics, but the restaurant cannot supply "no sugar"
desserts. Sorry!

Did I miss anything?!?!?
Patty

--------------------------------------------------------
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F*%^ing Employees
DATE: October 5, 2009
RE: The F*%^ing Holiday Party

I've had it with you vegetarian pricks!!!

We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it
or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill
of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your f*%^ing
salad bar, including organic tomatoes. But you know, tomatoes have
feelings, too. They scream when you slice them. I've heard them
scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!

The rest of you f*%^ing wierdos can kiss my
*ss. I hope you all have a rotten holiday!

Drive drunk and die,
The B*tch from H*ll!!!
PATTY


--------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: October 6, 2009
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing
Patty Lewis a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards
to her.
In the meantime, management has decided to
cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd
off with full pay.
Happy Holidays
Joan

Soon, Christmas

It's been a good day, but seems like it was too full for a Sunday.

The kids wanted to do some Christmas shopping for their friends, so I took them to Target. They voted for Walmart but I can tolerate Target easier. I found something for my brother which I will give him, a veggie chopper. He won't want it. He will re-gift it to me either this year or next year. He is the king of re-gifters. It's sort of a running joke between us now.

Our little vegetable stand still has produce from Florida, but they are fixing to close for the winter. The guy sold me a huge bunch of jalapeno peppers for $2! I also got some tomatoes. It occurred to me I need to make some homemade salsa. Our favorite, Paces picante sauce, is mostly just chopped tomatoes, jalapenos, and onions. I can do that.

We had lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Mike got to watch a soccer match on plasma TV, while eating everything in sight. He has gotten where he loves guacamole, and Mother orders extra for him. He gobbles it down. This place makes fresh guacamole and Mother says it's the best. 

I got Alesia to touch up the roots of my now auburn hair while Mother had a nap. She was very thorough. I cannot do it as well myself, and I can't afford a salon. I got a lot of hair chopped off the other day, but I was looking pretty trashy with black roots. Alesia did a good job, and didn't complain about the smell of the coloring solution.

I reminded both kids today when we were in the car that Christmas day is this Friday. They got all excited. Wish I could remember how it feels to be that excited. It was a sweet interlude.

Then I hear this, from Mike: "Euw, look at that OLD GUY running! Yuck! Look at how his butt SAGS!" - then from Alesia" "Look how his saggy butt BOUNCES! EEEEUW!"  I glanced at the guy before the car went past him. he looked pretty fit to me. The kids thought he was gross.

So much for the Hallmark moment...

Christmas Rituals

Christmas is a time for cherished rituals, and some of them are humorous. Teaching Michael the words to "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" ranks right up there with sneaking and eating the Christmas candy in the living room, piece by piece, until there's none left by Christmas.

We got our Harry & David pears today - how exciting. Every year, a wealthy friend of Mother's sends a box of those pears, and every year I chuckle because she sends the culls, the rejected pears. There's a note explaining this in the box. Usually they are just as good as the top of the line pears, just a bit funky looking. Last year they tasted off. The irony is, the woman has TONS of money, but she always sends the cheap fruit. I'd rather just have a card. However, we did use last year's pears for compost.

For the third year, we got a Christmas letter from a family friend who always makes it a point to tell us all the BAD things that happened during the year, and says pointedly that people who are not saved are in dire straits and all they can look forward to in the New Year is dodging the fiery flames of hell. I just love that happy little note.

Our newest ritual is that Michael demands to know every single present for him under the tree. Even though I hate telling him, he somehow wheedles it out of me. However, I like to get one big one that's a total surprise and wrap it up and refuse to tell him what it is. Drives him nuts.

I spent half the morning at the Georgia Department of Labor. I was looking forward to it about as much as a root canal. However, it wasn't too bad. It was far better than the DMV. The people who worked there were unfailingly nice. People watching in there is interesting. One guy had a big bag of 12 rolls of paper towels he was hauling everywhere. One guy sat there waiting and working on a laptop the whole time. One young man had pants that were totally fallen off his behind, and the only thing shielding his undies from view was a long shirttail. He could barely walk, his pants were so low. One lady who sat near me had a face that was dead white and she looked stoned, although she was dressed and groomed very nicely.

Here's one of my favorite humorous emails, and I am sharing it with y'all as a little lagniappe...

The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their Parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.

 The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories... There were all the regular types of stuff: spilled milk, pennies saved, etc. Ernie was last.

 'Ernie, do you have a story with a moral to share?'

'Yes ma'am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Becky. She was a pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife.

 

She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break, and then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 Iraqi troops.   She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands.'

'Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. 'What did your daddy tell you was the moral to this horrible story?

 'Stay the hell away from Aunt Becky when she's been drinking.'

Hectic Day for The Old Moron Mama

I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and stumbled into the bathroom, and my head felt like it was being pinched in a vise. I choked down 2 Motrin and tried to go back to sleep. I dreamed about hanging out with President Obama, and he had an Asian girlfriend. I try to avoid the political so I’ll leave it up to you to decide if that was a happy dream or a nightmare. I don’t know. I just know it was weird. 

 

I am trying to get Michael and me downstairs, get the garbage put out on the curb, grab my lunch out of the fridge, and Coco comes flying up the stairs and throws herself in the middle of Alesia’s bed. I go in after her. She has burrowed under the covers like I know you can’t see me, just leave already!! I have to grab 10 lbs. of wriggling dog and haul her downstairs, while hollering at Michael to get a move on. The word “hurry” means nothing to him.

 

 I had to get a lot done at the post office this morning before work. I mailed off a box of presents to our friend Miss Jean in Asheville. She is almost 90 and this is her first Christmas without her brother, so we wanted to do something special and we wrapped up a bunch of little gifts for her and sent them. It’s cheaper than all of us going there. I also finally got mailed off the box of presents for the little girl in Kazakhstan I sponsor through Antares Foundation, and in the same box a gift for Mike’s friend Denis. I also mailed off 25 Christmas cards. Now, it’s almost Christmas, right? Busiest time of the mailing year? Guess how many clerks were working behind the counter. One. Yep, one older lady who looked like someone had peed in her cornflakes. She scared me. I wanted to say THESE ARE PRESENTS FOR ORPHANS LADY!! Lighten UP! However, I didn’t want her to jump over the counter and hit me with the display of holiday stamps which I had carelessly knocked over when I was putting everything on the counter. I also didn’t want her to re-route my gifts to the arctic circle...

 

 Then I go to McDonalds and they give me sweet tea that is not sweet. I am southern. I need sweet tea. It’s like an IV for me when I haven’t had enough sleep, and the lemon gives me a little vitamin C boost. So all morning I am forced to drink tea that tastes like it was made in a rusty box.

 

I came home and had to find Michael’s prosthetic, which was under a pile of clothes in his bedroom. I went and checked him out of school and we went to Children’s, for him to be casted for a new prosthetic arm. He has completely outgrown the other arm he got 2 years ago.

 

We left there and came home and got Coco. She has to go to the vet and get her nails cut. Michael is very good with her now that he is bigger. For a long time he was nervous around Coco, but now he has decided he loves her and plays with her and loves on her all the time. It’s so sweet. We don’t mind paying the $ to get her nails trimmed professionally. Her nails are so tiny it makes us all too nervous.

 

We came home and had a few minutes, then Mike had a tennis lesson. It’s bitter cold today, temps in the 30’s and 40’s. I went to get him at 6 so he wouldn’t have to walk home in the cold and he was out there looking casual in shorts. The other children were bundled up a lot more. Right now in Petropavlovsk, it’s 25 below, according to Cindy's blog.

 

Alesia went to bible study with her friend Elena. When she got back I asked what they had talked about. Alesia looked at me like wow, you are so dense, and said “Jesus! We always talk about Jesus! And there was a lot of food.” Have to admire those Presbyterians for serving up the bible with lots of hors d’ouvres…;-)

 

While she was gone, Michael and I worked on a report he has to do for school, an example of expository writing. He chose to write about Will Smith. I am now an expert on all things Will Smith. I was sort of surprised to see he is over 40 now. I pointed out to Mike that Will Smith is only 6 years younger than me. Michael looked aghast. “Dang! He is OLD!”

 

My kids think I am a moron and older than dirt. I can remember thinking the same things about my parents when I was a teenager. The great circle of life…

 

  

Poor old thing.... 

Tropical Day and Trunk Humor

Wow, what a day. Feels like I have been running a marathon all day. Tomorrow promises to be worse - ten things to do, places to be, carpool duty in overdrive.

While the rest of you around the country are enjoying fluffy winter snow, we had a freaky day with temps in the 60's. Yep, I put on my coat, and took it off as soon as I got in the car. Tomorrow, temps are supposed to plummet to more normal winter temps. Michael shares my disgust.

I don't like bitter cold - Been There, Done That, in Russia and Kazakhstan - but I like a little nip to the air, maybe temps in the 40's and/or 50's, but clear. That's the usual day around here in winter.

The upstairs of my house gets soooooo hot and stuffy, I am running the dadgum air conditioner. I will cut it off before bed, but still. It's December.

Michael is better today. Still not Mr. Talkative when it comes to his feelings, but calmer.

Mike's hair is so long now, I put it in a ponytail while he was brushing his teeth. It needs cutting but it's not a battle I want to fight right now. All the little boys in his school have long, shaggy hair. He thought the ponytail was cool, but not the scrunchy.

Mother ran out of strawberry preserves, a nightmare for Our Lady of Peanut-Butter-and-Jelly, so we ran over to Kroger tonight. I asked the kids if they wanted to just get Kroger sushi for supper, and they were thrilled. Sushi is pretty nutritious, and much better for them than fast food. Michael said he was hungry but refused to dig into sushi in the car, because he has to fix his soy sauce and wasabi just so.  Thank you, Uncle Bruce.

Mike walked by the big Christmas tree tonight before we came up for bed and said wistfully, "I want to open something really bad...."

"Calm down, all in time." I said. I reminded him earlier tonight that he has finals next week, and he needs to concentrate on that. Amazes me they are doing final exams in middle school. I never even worried about tests until high school. I didn't actually start studying for tests until college. Smart and Lazy, that's me.

Alesia has gotten where she giggles all.the.time. Constantly. It's maddening. Tonight we were in the car and Mike complained the car was too shaky for him to play his Nintendo properly. I suggested he get his butt in the trunk. He said "OK!" and Alesia said "Maybe I want to get in there instead!"

Michael shot back: "We ALL want you in the trunk!" I laughed so hard.

All I could think of was these funny Trunk Monkey commercials -

 

 

Eating An Elephant

It was a rainy day AND a Monday, but I didn't let that get me down! Anyone remember that old song? Anyone? Bueller?!

I put my sheets in to wash at 7:45 this morning, and finally got them back on the bed, clean, at 11 tonight.

I used my lunch hour to get Alesia signed up for Taggart's driving school during the Christmas holidays. Yay! An early Christmas present from Uncle Bruce. He must've been alarmed at the grey hairs I've sprouted since undertaking teaching Alesia to drive.

On the way home from work, I get a call from Alesia. "Mom, can I eat some of the turnips for a snack?!" Thank you, Jesus. Another vegetable she likes. She really, really likes it! [Name the celebrity who said something similar...]

Michael informed me of a science test on Friday, then counted the number of pages he has to study and informed me he would never be able to study all that in time. Big pouty face. Bad attitude.

"How do you eat an elephant?" I asked him. He scowled.

"One bite at a time! C'mon Dude! I will help you. We will review one chapter tonight, one tomorrow, and one Wed., then we will review it all Thursday night."

"I can't DO IT!" he whined.

"Michael, look at me. I was an A student in school [not in science, but I didn't want to split hairs] and I know how to study for a test. If you pay attention and try hard, I will help you study and you will make an A on that test!"

He reluctantly perked up and we got some studying done.

My very kind neighbor sent me a coupon for the store where he works, and I was able to do some online shopping and got some great deals. I asked Alesia what she wanted Michael to give her, and she refused to name any item except a new bra. We browsed bras. Michael kept laughing at the models and saying "You need a pushup bra!" I didn't say much. She had put herself in the line of fire. So she picked out a bra, and when she left the room we picked out a cute night shirt for her. Michael chose a hoodie and she got it for him. They both chose Uncle Bruce a shirt that they thought was "cool." I can't tell here what they chose for Mother because she reads the blog, but it's a nice gift.

The kids still have to get me something, and I have to buy stocking stuffers, but otherwise I am DONE with Christmas shopping! Woo hoo! I will make some homemade baked goodies for a few friends and neighbors, but I consider that FUN.

I was quizzing Michael at dinner on some of his science terminology. "What do you call it when big rocks break down other rocks?" I asked him. The answer I was looking for was weathering. He thought about it. "Abortion?" he asked. I was aghast. "No, the word you mean to say is abrasion, not abortion. Totally different thing. That's the wrong word, anyway, it's weathering. Good lord!" 

Mother laughed. "Better explain that again!" she teased.

These are a dozen things I have learned the hard way, both good and bad.

1.    If you have an incontinent dog who is also sneaky, she will find the cleanest carpet in the house to poop on. [Coco did a liquid poop on Michael’s shag rug in his room and he screamed like he was being eviscerated when he saw it.]

2.    A 13 year old boy wants to play with something ALL THE TIME. Tossing rubber balls, rubber bands, paper airplanes, etc. will happen, and yelling does no good.

3.    When a teenaged girl has PMS, the only way to prevent child abuse is to send her to her room. I like to add the words “Don’t come out until you can control your mouth!” It means nothing to her but it makes me feel better.

4.    The day you start a diet will be the day somebody brings you something homemade (like chocolate chip cookies) and your resistance crumbles…

5.    Chick Filet’s buffalo sauce will open up your sinuses, big time. Have Kleenex handy before you start dipping those nuggets.

6.    No matter how early you start your Christmas shopping, you will get to Christmas eve day and suddenly realize you forgot someone or some gift, or stocking stuffers.

7.    Every Christmas, you end up wrapping presents on Christmas eve, no matter how efficient you are. [Our tree will have presents under there so long they are dusty, and presents wrapped in grocery bags and duct tape at midnight on Christmas Eve.]

8.    Signing your child up for driving school is a blissful experience.

9.    The day you get excited about eating a vegetable you’ve never eaten before is the day you know, for a fact, you are on the dark side of 40.

10.   Lecturing your kids about all the sneaky things they shouldn’t do only gives them ideas.

11.   Never look in your child’s bookbag or backpack. There are things in there you just don’t want to know about.

12. Shopping for myself is a drag. Shopping for my kids is fun.