Here, dear readers — My day in real time.
Sort of.
5, 6, 7 & 8 a.m.: Sleeping. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Large Wacky Cat 2, the stripedy one, pins me in on one side; muscular husband pins me in on the other. Why does the Cat want to sleep with us? It’s so flippin’ hot. Unable to move. Sex? No. Have to sleep. Can’t open eyes. Consider a new lifestyle that involves not staying up so late at night. Hmmm. What time did we go to bed? Vaguely remember 11 o’clock news. Keep eyes closed. Sleep. (more…)
The Wacky Nekkid Mini-Neighbor was over this afternoon. The treats (chocolate rice krispy bars, Annie’s cheddar crackers, Annie’s graham bunnies, raspberry juice) were good, so she stayed.
Then she and Wacky Boy got married.
The bride was splendiferous in an Iowa City City High High School red, black and white cheerleader’s dress. The groom was quite dashing in a pair of froggy swim trunks. He wore flip-flops; the bride was barefoot. The ceremony was held in the backyard of the bridegroom’s parents. No ice sculpture, but there was a water feature (the wading pool).
Wacky Boy’s sister officiated. She wore an orange cotton summer dress with a certain flair.
“OK, here are your rings.” She handed them both a mood ring.
“Now, you walk down here,” she directed. “Now you stand here. Now you are pronounced husband and wife.”
The newlyweds began to giggle.
“Now… hold hands!” They held hands. They smiled for the non-existent cameras. I clapped.
Then, this being 2007, and being a practical girl, the Mini-Neighbor made a request.
“I want to be married to someone else.”
“OK,” Wacky Girl says. “You have to not like each other first, then you get divorced.”
I’m definitely in the mood for Thursday Thirteen this week. Oh. Man. Has it been a looooooong school year or is it just me? I thought we had one of the shortest school years in the nation? Oh, all those Wednesdays and Thursdays off, I guess they mean. They add up.
Yesterday wasn’t the last day of school for my kids (who are now proud to be kindergarten and third grade students-in-waiting), but it sure felt like it. It was field day! Water balloons, dumping buckets of water on each other, the long dash, the frisbee toss… fun.
13. Goodbye, Bruno. I hope over the summer you learn to stop stabbing yourself with scissors. I also kinda hope you try out a different school. One where they have more counselors? (more…)
The setting: Last Sunday afternoon. I’m lying in bed, hoping my family will leave so I can watch the Las Vegas season finale I have on tape. (I finally watched the whole thing. My review: Creepy, too weird, not enough hott love scenes.)
My husband: “I’ll fix dinner. You always get home cooking on the weekend.”
Me: “I cook during the week!” (…and I’m thinking, not last week I didn’t — we had Thai, pizza, and Indian take-out, then went out on Friday.)
Wacky Girl, who’s sprawled on the bed: “Bullshit.”
Really Nekkid, as in Newborn. The Wacky Nekkid Neighbors had their tiny (ha!) baby girl (nine pounds, two ounces; ed. to say make that THREE ounces) a little after two this afternoon, Monday, Dec. 11th, Two Thousand and Six. She was born Butt-Nekkid. She is born under the sign of Sagittarius, in the Year of the Dog. They named her Little Miss Patootie-Butt, Princess of Nekkidville, which I think is a grand name.
Wacky Girl plans to buy her a cowgirl suit. Wacky Boy will teach her to play marbles as soon as she is old enough.
Congratulations, and good job, mama.
Hot damn, it’s snowing again! And we still have the flu. And we have two rehearsals coming up for the Christmas pageant at church and I have no idea when they are. Whoops. That’s all for today.
OK, that’s not much of a post, sorry. Wacky Girl is going to be a junior angel this year in the pageant. She’s a senior angel, IMHO. I love that girl. Wacky Boy has to wait until next year, when he’s in kindergarten. Then he can be a goat or a cow. Maaaaaaaaaaa! Moooooooo! I love that boy.
Would you like an update on everything I can think of? Okay, here goes:
Hola! ?Como estas? Have you ever held a progressive party in your neighborhood? Yeah, me neither. But five of our neighbors and the Wacky Family are going to go for it, New Year’s Day. For years we’ve been talking about a summer block party, but, you know. Some of us don’t get along as well as others of us. That is, some of us like to dance around naked and happy, and others like to spit at everyone as they walk by and criticize the way they park. More on Evil Neighbor — if you park in front of her house, she will waddle out her front door and she will tell you, “You need to move your car. You can’t park there.” It is a public street! Yet people are so scared of her evil eye they move their cars. No progressive party for Evil Neighbor. We may invite guests and encourage them to park in front of her house, though.
My first mistake: Putting a futon in my office. (We had a couch in here, once. Can’t remember what we did with it.)
My second mistake: Putting really cushy quilts and blankies on the futon. (Which is not on a frame, mind you. It’s just sprawled out all over the floor. I fold it in half, occasionally, to vacuum.) You can probably guess third mistake, which was…
Day 7: The kids watched a half hour of some crap and another half hour of some other crap. (PBS Kids and the stoned sloth. I think.) Bonus points: I made dinner, being the kind of good mom who does feed her kids.
Day 8: No TV for anyone. No one asked, even. This was kinda cool. And I got to finish this incredible book I just read, Kindred, by Octavia Butler, about a woman who time travels and risks her life to try to save her future. I highly recommend this one.
Soccer season? Not for Wacky Boy, who “opted out.”
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