This Is Not The Post That Will Change Your Life With All Of Its Grandness

I have had four days in a row at home, which pretty much should have been plenty of time to get a few things done around the house, and yet here it is, Sunday night, and I have nothing to show for my ambitions of conquering a To-Do list around here.

On Friday afternoon, the boy hauled Enzo and Bek home with him after school.  They brought their sleeping bags and their backpacks full of overnight accessories, but all I have to say to that is WHY BOTHER?  Because honestly, a twelve-year-old boy just sleeps in what he wore all day long, and why go through the motions of packing clean clothes just to impress your mama?  She already knows you’re coming home on Saturday night in the same outfit you left for school in on Friday morning.

The boys had some goals this weekend, too, which involved playing enough video games to rot even Einstein’s gray matter, and I’m happy to report that they accomplished what they had hoped to do.  Hours upon hours were spent in front of the big screen in the family room, hollering at gaming characters and eating enormous amounts of cheap pizza.

Yes.  I said cheap pizza.  Enzo’s dad is a chef, and every time Enzo comes over here I feel THE PRESSURE to send him home with a belly full of gourmet food.  It’s probably because when the boy stays at their house, he comes home and brags about RIBS IN THE CRANBERRY SAUCE and the GRILLED PIZZAS WITH HOMEMADE CRUSTS THAT INVOLVED YEAST AND PUNCHING AND RISING and THE CHEESECAKE!  This time around, though, I decided to be true to myself… to quit pretending that I can cook a big pot of shrimp linguine with poise and class.  We bought pizzas from Little Caesar’s, because they cost exactly five American dollars each.  When you’re feeding three boys who are on the brink of teenagehood, cheap is always better.  Plus?  Boys will eat junk that would cause the estrogen to balk and say, “Pass.  And no, thank you.”

And also?  On Friday I decided that if I’m going to be a full-fledged, dues-paying-member of the Pinterest, then I’d better stop all the JUST PINNING and get to the PINTEREST SUCCESS side of life.  Thing 2 is in desperate need of some form of wall art, because what he has hanging above his crib right now are windows out of somebody’s 1915 bungalow, which were there when his nursery was just a TV room.  The windows each way 450 pounds, and, although Hubs has them secured to the wall with bolts the size of my arm, I do fear that Thing 2 is going to reach out and just yank one down, which will result in… well… a very heavy window falling on my baby.  I’m sure there will be glass and everything.  Whenever Thing 2 is in his crib (which really isn’t as often as I would like to see him in there), I pull it out from the wall to prevent him taking a window to the head.  Obviously, the goal at Casa del Jedi is to get some artwork up there that is a little more LIGHTWEIGHT.

So on Friday, after having some Pinterest pictures in mind, I went to the craft store.  I bought a canvas and some sticker letters and some spray paint, so that I could get my crafting on.  My friend, Lisa, texted me while I was at the store, to ask what I was up to, and I said, “I’m getting my crafting on, which is hilarious, because I never craft.  Ever.”  But I was determined to make OSHA and the fire chief and the pediatrician all proud of me for removing the hanging windows that weigh more than my Suburban does, so I brought all the crafting supplies home.

Yeah.  They’re still sitting on my dining room table.

Shopping in craft stores mentally exhausts me.  I had to have time to recuperate.

On Saturday, I finished reading a book, while boys ran all over my house and emptied my pantry of all the Pop Tarts, cold cereal and granola bars that we had stored there.  I hope that we don’t get snowed in, because we are officially out of staples here now.

This morning, there was church, and then we came home and sat in our living room watching Pawn Stars on TV.  Hubs has decided that the TV that we had in our bedroom — the one that is roughly the size of a drive-in theater’s screen from my childhood — actually looks better above our fireplace.  I agree with him.

(On a side note, I should agree with Hubs on more things, because Hubs is usually right.)

(Except Hubs thinks chai tea from Starbucks tastes worse than he imagines Pennzoil to taste, and he IS dead wrong about that.  Starbucks’ chais are made by baby angels, and every time someone takes a sip of one, a baby unicorn is born.)

I can’t say that I’ve really ever WATCHED Pawn Stars before, because my adult-onset ADD doesn’t let me sit there and watch people pawn turquoise and silver-plated Indian princess sculptures that are roughly the size of my sofa, but I watched the show today.  Some fellow was selling a spoon made by PAUL REVERE HIMSELF, which had been in  his family for a sweet forever.  His daughter was getting married, and he wanted to pay for her wedding.  I asked Hubs, “Would you sell a family heirloom spoon for $6,000?”  Hubs didn’t even bat an eye.  He just yelled, “Yes.  Yes, I would.  And then I’d buy a life-sized, remote-controlled monster truck, because every single guy in America would love to have one of those!”

Well.  I had no idea.  And honestly?  I don’t know how Hubs and I stay together.  Because do you know what I’d do with $6,000 in cash?  I’d buy a gray rug for my living room and some navy, Chevron-striped throw pillows.  I’d buy Hubs a case of Coke, the boy a new Lego set, and Thing 2 a couple of titanium-plated rocks that he couldn’t break, so that he could bang them together at his heart’s content, because Thing 2 is a TOY CLANKER!  We will never be invited to people’s houses to play, because they’ll be all, “THEIR KID WILL BREAK ALL THE PLAYMOBIL AND LITTLE PEOPLE AND MATCHBOX CARS, SO WE CAN’T HAVE THEM OVER.”  And really?  That might actually be the case, because there aren’t a whole lot of things that our baby likes to do more than eat and crash his toys against the hardwood floors.

And then, after those small expenditures, I’d stuff everything else into savings.

Hubs and I are very different, because SERIOUSLY?  A life-sized, remote-controlled monster truck?  What on earth would a person even do with one of those?

Later on Pawn Stars, another gentleman was selling his entire collection of Garbage Pail Kids cards.  I told Hubs, “Really?!  REALLY?!  Who would buy THOSE?!”  I don’t think I would run a very successful pawn shop, because I would be all, “Nope!  That is a heap of crap you’re offering me, and I’m not going to be able to resell it, so you go on home now and have yourself a garage sale in your driveway.”

A collector’s card expert was brought in, who announced that YES!  This entire collection could be sold for upwards of $400!  I was stunned.  Four.  Hundred.  Clams.

I wouldn’t have taken the entire set for FREE, if the gentleman had offered them to me, but that’s just me.  I wouldn’t have taken the turquoise and silver-plated Indian princess sculptures either…  not on a bet, because UGLY!

Two minutes later, Hubs had an entire box of his baseball cards out, and he was looking online.  He said, “If THOSE cards were worth that, then maybe I’ve got a goldmine card in this box somewhere.”

Sadly, we had no Babe Ruth cards in mint condition. We had no Mickey Mantle rookie cards.

What we have is a box of cards that wouldn’t even fetch $1.99 in cold, hard, cash money.

Because, let me tell you… If Hubs had anything of value in that box, I would be paying someone else to do my Pinterest crafting for me, so that I can get the heavy windows off of Thing 2’s bedroom wall.

Carry on, people.  And y’all have a terrific Sunday evening.

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