This Is How A Writer Jumps From Topic To Topic And Gets A Low Grade In Her English Class — In Other Words, This Is How Not To Write For The A+

First of all, I would just  like to go on record and say that today was some fancy kind of wall-to-wall busy.  As in, I haven’t even been home today, except for now.  And NOW equals LATE EVENING.

Second of all, my niece, L, turned ten today.

TEN.

As in, WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?  Because I’m pretty sure it was just yesterday that I stayed up ALL NIGHT LONG to await her arrival, because she took her own sweet time getting here.

(Sister also stayed up all night waiting for L to be born.  Sister deserved a gold medal and a big, red ribbon for all the staying up all night and pushing for a sweet forever and I DIDN’T EAT DINNER, and I HAVE LABORED ALL NIGHT, and A CHEESEBURGER SOUNDS GOOD ABOUT NOW.)

L had a little WELCOME TO TEN birthday dinner this evening, and I took pictures.  Showing them to you tonight wold require me to extend some effort into PHOTO RESIZING, and…  um… NO.  Not tonight.  And?  If I don’t resize the snapshots?  Well, you will see L’s eyeball on your laptop screen and nothing else.  My camera’s motto is, “Take big pictures or go home.” 

I taught PE today, and listen.  Sometimes my heart breaks for little kids.  Just today… as in JUST THIS AFTERNOON… I had one little fellow tell me, “Yesterday was my birthday, and we had to put my dog to sleep on my birthday, and I hated my birthday yesterday!”  And another little fellow told me, “My dad doesn’t live with my mom and me any more.  My dad packed a suitcase, and he said he will live somewhere else now, and I just want to know when he’s coming back to live with us.”  And a third little guy told me, “My dad called me an ‘idiot’ today when he drove me to school.  He hurt my feelings.”  I feel like I have dished out more hugs to little guys today, along with more advice than Dear Abby ever wrote, than I have in the past five years in Phys. Ed.

But… to that last little guy… I got to use my favorite line from The Help.  I pulled him aside, gave him a giant hug, and I whispered in his ear, “You is kind… you is smart… you is important!”

And my Suburban looks like I LIVE in it.  This morning, I took a drive to lull Thing 2 to sleep, because BIBLE STUDY!  And I wanted him to appear very angelic while we were at Bible study this morning.  Thing 2’s demonstration of angelic is easiest to achieve when he is snoozing.  Becki hopped into my Suburban WITH CUPS OF LOVE FROM STARBUCKS, and we drove all the dirt roads in Small Town County, talking and talking as we drove.  It worked… Thing 2 dozed off… but I had to confess to Becki, “Listen.  If I parked this Suburban near the water, people would say, ‘She lives in a van, down by the river!’”  And kids everywhere would be motivated to stay in school and just get degrees so that they could have better homes than a 2001 Suburban.

Like a 1982 Winnebago with a blown transmission and some serious rust patches.

But really?  I’m not even kidding on all the dirty, because I left my Suburban in the driveway, and the pterodactyls in the trees HIT IT.  My entire driver’s door and front windshield was covered in green poo this morning, which almost made me gag.  I may be siding with Hubs on the whole JUST SHOOT THEM issue.  Becki was a special kind of brave to get into the Suburban this morning.  There was green poo on the handle of her door.  And then there was the Starbucks cup from last week in the Suburban… and the boy’s Crocs from last month… and the piano books (THAT’S WHERE THEY WENT TO!)… and a tub of chicken nuggets that I bought in the Walmart deli for the boy and Kellen one night after school, because they thought they would FLAT-OUT DIE if they didn’t eat RIGHT THIS SECOND… and that was in December!… (there are still chicken nuggets left in the tub)… and then there was a pacifier wedged between the seats… and a bottle under the seat that had probably once held baby formula, but which looked to be filled with yellow cottage cheese this morning… and a couple of stadium blankets that Hubs and I scored from the oil-changing-dealership in December when we had our oil changed… they’re worthless stadium blankets that are roughly the thickness of newsprint, because what do you expect for FREE, FREE, FREE?… but we still have them in the Suburban… and then there were approximately 120 Lego bricks, in varying sizes, colors and shapes… and two sticks… because you can always use one as a sword, and you never know when your Suburban will be set upon by thieving pirates, thus making you wish you just had a good stick to smack someone with… and a Garfield book…and used napkins…

I could go on and on, people, but I’m pretty sure your opinion of me has already fallen into the toilet.  I’m sure y’all think that I need to have my reality show, where counselors and therapists are sent in to talk about the vehicle you drive.

At least my toilets are CLEAN, because that’s what I did yesterday.

Anyway.

I hope y’all have a fantastic Tuesday evening, and we’ll be back here tomorrow with the same nonsense you’re used to.  And with any luck at all, there will be birthday pictures of L, depicting her as the cutest ten-year-old girl this side of the Mississippi River.

Which is where I could park my filthy Suburban…

…and bury the pterodactyls that I shoot myself.

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