“I Invoke the Right of Parlay!”

Spring Break ’11 is in full swing at the Jedi Manor.

The boy was up at the crack of ugly this morning, because of NO SCHOOL!  And because of WHY WASTE A VACATION DAY BY SLEEPING?!

So, I gave him a list of chores, which he promptly started.  He accomplished Item One and Item Two on the list, before the cute neighbor boy knocked on our back door and said, “Can the boy come bat some more tiny baseballs?”

Yes.  Apparently he could.  So the list of chores was abandoned, because of SPRING BREAK!   And because of WHAT CRAZY MOTHER MAKES HER KID TACKLE A LIST OF CHORES OVER SPRING BREAK?

Batting practice commenced, once again, and tiny balls were swatted all over the backyard.

And then we high-tailed it off to the cinema, where I took the boy, the cute neighbor boy, and Kellen to see Mars Needs Moms in 3D, since we adore shelling out major dollars for the upscale, additional price to wear funky glasses and watch things pop out at us.

(As far as the movie review goes, well, it was just okay, until the ending, when the boy trips and falls and smashes his glass oxygen helmet on Mars’ terrain.  He was slowly suffocating, and his  mother gave him HER helmet, and then she deliberately broke the handle off the helmet, once she had it firmly in place on his head, so that he couldn’t get it off and try to share the remaining oxygen with her.  It’s because moms are like that, even when it means they might suffocate in the non-oxygenated air on a distant planet; at least their boys will make it.  Naturally, I sobbed like a blubbering baby, and I had to use my sweatshirt to wipe my face.  However…I wasn’t alone in the crying department, because my three companions were all quietly bawling, too, and all three of them wanted to hug their own mamas.  So the movie is just okay.  It’s funny in parts.  And then hold onto your seats at the end, because of EMOTIONAL TEAR-INDUCING MOMENT THAT MAKES YOUR HEART BREAK WIDE OPEN WITH RAWNESS.)

And now, at this very moment in time, these little bodies are camped out on our family room floor, watching Pirates of the Carribbean on our big screen TV.  They are all cheering for the pirates and proclaiming very loudly that yes!  Yes, they all three wish that they were real pirates, because their Y chromosomes have a strong desire to swing a sword all over the place, use phrases like scurvy dog, and quit showering for life.

I, myself, don’t mind a good pirate at all, as long as he doesn’t swing the sword in the house, and as long as he washes his hair every night before bed.

And also as long as he doesn’t sail on a ship too far from home.

And as long as they use their manners at the table, instead of eating like barbaric, pirate-like, giggling hyenas.

Happy Monday night, ya scurvy dogs!

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