I have some quick things tonight.
And I do mean quick, because my contacts are sucked onto my eyes, and I feel like I’m looking through a giant thumbprint on both sides, and I can hardly wait to take them out.
The contacts and I always seem to have the issues.
1. My mood? So. Much. Better. I can just leave old Reuben’s wife behind now, because hello! I laughed my head off more than once today. It was probably because Susan brought me peanut M&Ms, which was a brilliant Mood Recovery Plan, or MRP. The boy is allergic to the peanuts, so they never show up at our house, because ALL THE SWELLING, AND THE HIVES, AND THE DIFFICULTY BREATHING? Yeah. Makes me kind of nervous, and I tend to get a bit of a tic just thinking about the Peanut Side Effects. Hence, we have banned the peanut products at Casa del Jedi, but I’ve been known to indulge outside of our house, when the boy is far, far away. And when Susan slipped me the peanut M&Ms today, the boy was clear across town getting his higher education in the 4th grade, and so I ate them. Of course I had to take the detox bath afterwards, which included brushing the teeth to remove the peanut smell and washing the hands, and remembering not to touch my cell phone with any traces of the peanut oil on my hands, because you never know when the boy might need to make a phone call to his agent or something, and goodness knows! We wouldn’t want peanut residue on the phone. I felt like the poor monsters in Monsters, Inc., who had to be bathed and shaved after being contaminated by a child.
But really? Salty peanuts covered in chocolate panned out nicely for the mood today. Quite nicely indeed.
2. This morning I helped with school pictures at the boy’s school, and listen to this one tale. (Because I am always full of tales which involve small children. I think it’s because my life revolves around them most of the time.) I had brought one of the first grade classes in and lined them all up for their pictures, and I noticed the most darling first grade girl EVER. She had her hair all done in cute, curly pigtails, and she was dressed in a Gymboree outfit, from head to toe, and oh my lands! First Grade Perfection! That’s what she was. I noticed just before it was her turn for a picture that…ahem!…she had a little bit of a booger showing from her nose. Just a tiny thing, really, but something that was in big need of a Kleenex, because no mama who spent the time dolling her little angel up for school pictures wants to get the photos back with a big booger, front and center. So I grabbed a Kleenex, and I whispered to her, “I’m just going to wipe your nose a bit here,” and oh my word! I used the tissue to grab that teeny, tiny, minute little booger, but listen, people. It wasn’t a booger. It was a COMET! And what do comets have? Well, they apparently have four-inch-long comet tails behind them, and THAT is what I pulled out of that adorable nose! What I thought was a speck of a booger turned out to be a speck of a booger with a four-inch tail.
As soon as the entire nostril-clogging comet had been freed, I looked at her in surprise and said, “Well, then. Can you breathe any better?”
And then I used the librarian’s entire bottle of Germ-X on my hands, because, cute or not, it was SOMEBODY ELSE’S BIG BOOGER, PEOPLE!!
3. So it was Family Night at the boy’s youth group last night, and Hubs and I hightailed it over to the church for a spaghetti dinner with all the kids and an activity.
An activity which turned out to be LINE DANCING, and I cannot even tell you the joy it brought to my heart to see Hubs take one for the team and participate in the dancing in the line formation. He cringed as soon as he heard what activity was shaking down, and he looked at me and said, “I can fake a phone call at any time, and I will have to leave to go fix a fake computer virus emergency. I will not do the line dancing.”
And yet, people, he did. With all the other parents. Even though he didn’t want to. At all. And what we learned is this: Neither Hubs nor I will be competing in Dancing With the Stars any time soon, because, sweet mercy! We cannot even get the high kicks right.
Clearly, we need to take some lessons from Sally O’Malley, who’s fifty (five-oh!), and who likes to kick and stretch.
Of course, it all just brought back a flood of memories of when Hubs and I took a ballroom dancing class together LONG ago, when we were barely old enough to drive. Of course, we were both already married by then, and our friends, Ted and Anna, talked us into this ridiculous eight-week series of dance lessons. Hubs and I could waltz like nobody’s business! Oh, people! We looked like a grand duke and the duchess out there on the dance floor, waltzing away with grace.
And then we flunked the fox trot.
And we flunked the mambo.
And we flunked the rumba.
And we flunked the swing.
And the instructor told us, “May I suggest that you don’t move on to my Ballroom Dancing II class, but that you actually take Ballroom Dancing I OVER again?”
People, the captain of the wrestling team doesn’t dance. And because of that, Hubs drug us down in Ballroom Dancing I, while Ted and Anna soared to great heights and were welcomed into Ballroom Dancing II with much applause and fanfare and confetti-throwing and champagne flute clinking.
Hubs’ and my dancing careers ended with that first class. We never went back. We simply cherish the waltz, deep down in our hearts, and we know, to this day, that we rocked that dance floor hard with the waltz.
And then last nigh we flunked line dancing, which was sort of like rubbing salt into some open wounds.
4. A friend of mine showed me a blog a couple of weeks ago, which has made me howl with the giggles. It’s a blog about a faux couple, Gary and Elaine, and they live in catalog pictures. That’s right! The blog’s writer takes glossy photos of homes out of catalogs, and then he (but maybe it’s a she!) tells you what Elaine and Gary (the fake couple) are up to. And I laugh and laugh and laugh.
And I’ll just tell you this one thing: It’s too good not to share. Since my friend shared it with me, I’ll share it with you. It’s quick and easy to read. One picture and one sentence, and blam! You’re done with that day’s post, and your sides will hurt from the laughing. (So truly? It’s not at all wordy like MY blog is!)
And really? I think that Hubs and I might secretly BE Gary and Elaine, the fake catalog couple, and I am seriously considering calling Hubs Gary now.
Truly, I have no idea who writes this blog. I just think it’s funny, and Gary and Elaine make me very happy.
5. And that’s it. Happy Thursday night, y’all.