I am not blogging
I’m taking the kids to the library, then to the vet (to pick up meds for cats and dog, not for the kids, fyi), then to the outdoor pool to swim and splash.
Just in case ya’ll were wondering what the Wacky Family is up to today.
Wacky Daddy is back at work and frankly, I’m glad. All of this together time (vacation, three-day weekends, birthday parties, etc.) is hell on my marriage. So go play hockey, Uncle Grumpy! Go throw someone against the boards! And come home happy, would you? Dinner will *not* be ready, per usual. And yes, I *am* going to let the kids watch Willy Wonka (the original) at least two times today while I eat bon-bons and paint my nails. Ha. No television my *ass.*
(On a side note, Wacky Boy told his Wacky Auntie that her ass is “ginormous” — a mix of “enormous” and “gigantic.” He said “bottom” or “butt,” I’m hoping, not ass. He has seen “Elf” one too many times. She took it all in good humor, mainly cuz her ass is nowhere near “ginormous.”)
I planted flowers in honor of Fourth of July instead of blowing things up, as a Wacky Reader suggested. It was a great idea, and I’m thinking you should do the same. Have fun playing with the kids, WR, and thanks for the great idea. Enjoy your summer.
Also, WB and Wacky Girl were awake most of the night cuz of the M-80s our neighbors kept tossing about like so much penny candy at a Mardi Gras parade. Did you know one M-80 is the equivalent of a quarter-stick of dynamite? Our contractor, C, informed me of that this a.m. He didn’t sleep well either. Or get a bid put together for me for the French doors I must have NOW in my office. (Veruca Salt, how I love you.) Hello? How long does it take to do a g.d. bid? He was over here three weeks ago, measuring things and whatnot.
Also, even though Large Wacky Dog was heavily sedated, he still twitched, barked, jumped on the bed and pretty much drove us nuts. All in all, it wasn’t that great of a weekend. Other than planting the flowers.
love,
WM
, 
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Okay, so I went to the rink today, despite never getting more than 2 consecutive hours of sleep last night. Much to my delight, as I’m paying the nice lady for my ice time, the dweeb that keeps hitting me from behind walks in.
The last two times I’ve been on the ice with this fucker, he’s pissed me off. First, it was a cross-check to the kidney (right after I’d stolen the puck from him). Then last week, as I’m forechecking him pretty aggressively, he gets all pissy and shoves me. He’s not all that strong, and Himself is pretty solid, so Himself does not budge. Meanwhile, one of my team mates skate behind him, picks up the loose puck and scores easilly. I laughed in his face. “Hah! That’ll teach you!”
The very next play, I’m back deep in my own end chasing a loose puck in the corner, and he just bear hugs me. I break loose and set up in front of the net, and he comes up and runs me from behind. I still managed to block the shot. He says something snarky like “I should have held you more,” to which I reply, “What’s with all this hitting from behind? I think you bruised my kidney two weeks ago!”
Anyway, that was the last I saw of him. The rest of that session, he stayed away from me. So today, I was pretty psyched to see his sorry ass back at the rink. Everybody I’ve talked to seems to agree. He’s going to keep chipping away at me until I level him. Now, I play pretty hard, and contact is part of the game, but I’m not one to just hit someone for the sake of hitting. Usually it’s just incidental when two guys are going for the puck (we play “no check”). But the consensus seems to be that I’m going to have to give him a piece of my hip or shoulder.
Which is not the same as fighting. I’m a lover, not a fighter.
So he walks in today, all smiley and shit, but then I never see him on the ice…. Damn it. So I had to get rough with some punk ass teenager instead. It’s just not as satisfying.
July 5th, 2005 | #