Just Some Idle Tuesday-Night Chit Chat

Do you know how you sometimes have a whole lot of things that really need to be done, but instead of doing them… you just don’t?


That’s exactly me right now, because I have pink streaks literally growing hair and getting teeth and working on their growls in both of our toilet bowls, yet here I sit, ignoring them completely and putting up a blog post.

I believe the phrase you’re looking for is perhaps Procrastination Queen.

But I feel like I really won with dinner tonight, because listen:  HOMEMADE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP.  You know… the kind that comes with real carrots and celery and an onion that you actually labored to dice?  Yes.  That was me, playing the homemade dinner card for a win tonight, because I PREPARED LAST NIGHT.  Usually, I’m a last-minute, fly-by-my-rear-end sort of girl when it comes to dinner, but LAST NIGHT, I thought to myself, “Self, it would be nice to have some homemade soup.”

You know… what with how hard we got hit by Hurricane Hermine and all.

Totally joking.  We’re completely landlocked here, and we got some rain.  And by some rain, I mean I woke up to a TORRENTIAL downpour at 2 AM on Monday morning, and that is the PRECISE TIME that my brain chose to kick things into high gear and remember that Thing 2 had actually been playing in the backyard on Sunday evening, and that he’d had the downspout / drainpipe / whatever-you-happen-to-call-it OFF of where it should normally GO.  Ultimately, this meant that rainwater wasn’t going to be directed straight out and very much AWAY FROM the house, which COULD COME TO MEAN that we would get some water leaking into our basement, as water likes to do when it pours off the roof and doesn’t get to drain properly into the yard.

Bless my brain for remembering all of this.

I poked Hubs in the back and asked, “Are you awake?”  Because isn’t that what all wives do at 2 AM… ask questions like, ARE YOU AWAKE?  It’s the best time for our brains to be productive, thinking about all the things we need to think about.  Hubs, of course, sat bolt upright, expecting me to say, “I think there’s a burglar in the house,” which would’ve meant he’d MAYBE get to shoot someone, but all I really told him was, “Hear the rain?  Yeah.  It’s a downpour, and Thing 2 had our downspout off last night, using it as a ramp for Matchbox cars.”

Hubs mumbled.

“So does this mean that we’ll get water in our basement, if that downspout continues to sit eighteen feet away from the house, in the dirt pile and filled with six Matchbox cars?”

Hubs mumbled again.

“Do you think we should go outside and reattach the darn thing to the house?”

Hubs mumbled some more.

“Hubs?  Do YOU want to go outside and fix it?”

Which is when Hubs said, “NO!  No, I don’t!”

Well.  Alrighty then.  I tried to go back to sleep, but my brain kept spinning, thinking, “We could get water in the basement, and how annoying would that be, to have moisture down there from a slow leak?”

So yes.  I put on my slippers at 2:00 in the morning, and — IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DARK, WHEN THE HEAVENS WERE OPENED UP AND FLOODING THE LAND WITH RAIN, RAIN, GREAT BIG RAIN — I went outside to reassemble a downspout that my preschooler had been told to quit using as a ramp for his cars.

I was a bit nervous, too, because I was pretty sure a deer was going to pop out of the dark backyard and run away from me in fright, which was going to make me pee straight down my leg in fear of my own, so I kept prepping myself as I walked through the rain:  “You may see a deer!  Expect one of those deer who sleeps in our yard every night of the year to hop up and run!”

But there were no deer.


… the real kicker…

… is that the downspout was EXACTLY where it should have been.  Apparently, our four-year-old decided that — FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE — he would put something back RIGHT WHERE IT BELONGED when he was asked to quit playing with it.

Either that, or the deer reattached the thing, in a sense of a lovely, symbiotic relationship, where we let them sleep behind our house and they, in turn, keep the rain from getting into our basement by shoving stray downspouts into place.

So, you know… my trip outside at 2 AM was totally worth it.

Where were we??!!

Anyway, the chicken noodle soup was a total win for dinner, because last night I totally cut up the carrots and the celery and the onion, and I got everything ready, so that this morning, in a mad rush to get everyone out the door for work / PE / high school / preschool / Starbucks, I could just plug the crockpot straight into the outlet.  I came home this afternoon after a long day of gym classes, and THERE!  There was dinner!  Done!

And the pink streaks are still in my toilet, but here I am, blogging.

Anyway, just really quick-like, I do have to post a couple of pictures from Cousin K’s actual birthday, which was August 31st.  Sister threw his big party for him before school started, but then she did a little pizza dinner for him last Wednesday night, so that we could all cheer him into the very start of his eleventh year.

We had pizza and salad and… of course… a big chocolate bundt cake.  Cousin K and his friends encouraged Sister to group all eleven candles together in the shape of a teepee, and then to light all the little wicks at once, because it would TOTALLY become a blazing torch atop the chocolate frosting.

IMG_2355And then Cousin K made a wish that he’d get his driver’s license and a Ferrari for his eleventh birthday presents, right before he blew that flaming eleven-candle torch out.

IMG_2357The Littles did the Cake Dance, because they were very excited about CAKE, CAKE, OH, GLORIOUS CHOCOLATE BUNDT CAKE!!

IMG_2358And then everyone pretty much sat around and sighed in pleasure over that chocolate cake on their forks.

IMG_2362IMG_2360 IMG_2364 IMG_2359Cousin K’s two BFFs couldn’t make it to his party the week before, when Sister planned a glow-in-the-dark tag game, but they came over to his house last Wednesday to celebrate his birthday with pizza and chocolate cake.

I love this picture, because, as they say on first grade worksheets….


IMG_2361Listen.  I’ve known K’s good buddies (and their sweet, SWEET parents, too) since they were itty bitty tykes, and I STILL cannot tell them apart.

Not even a little bit.

And they both mess me with every time I think I’ve managed to tell which one is what one, and what one is who.


K is officially eleven now… and we still have dirty toilets.

Y’all have a happy Tuesday evening.

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