~
So.
The other day, the Captain and I were on our way to pick up Reilly the Red from one of her 10,000 musical activities she's involved in.
I told the Captain that his baseball practice got cancelled.
Ugh.
Bad idea.
"Oh yeah? How do YOU know it got cancelled, huh?"
Well, Jake, I KNOW, because your coach sent Daddy an email."
"WHAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
What's your problem, Jake?
"My COACH is an OLD MAN! He's a GRANDPA!"
Ummm. Okay, yes, perhaps he is an oldER gentleman, and yes, he is a Grandpa, soooooo?
"MOM! OLD MEN do NOT send EMAILS!"
Whoa.
Ummm, Jake, sure they do. Lots of people send emails.
"HMPHHH. None of MY Grandpas ever sent NO EMAILS."
Correct.
"I can't BELIEVE my GRANDPA coach knows how to send EMAIL! I just can't believe it! This is crazy! It's just ridiculous, Mom! Who taught him how to do that, huh?"
Sigh.
Just wait til Jake hears that the "Old Man Grandpa Coach" has issued yet another email mandating that all team communication will now be via texting.
And this family doesn't text.
Jake's gonna have to teach us how, I guess.
~
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
My Funny Valentine
In Reilly's defense -
Her class didn't make "Kiss Me, I'm Perfect" shirts.
Probably, because we already know that she very nearly IS?
Her Valentine's Day gift to us was to completely clean up the kitchen ALL by herself, for the very first time, EVER, and it was all her idea.
A very nice, appreciated gift indeed.
I love BOTH my valentines!
MWAH!
~
Sunday, February 13, 2011
And God Was In The House
~
Hellfire, and damnation, I don't even know where to start!
At the revelation?
At the goosebumps?
At the baptism?
At the tears?
Whew.
How about at the beginning?
Yeah, that's a good idea.
I'll start at the beginning.
In the beginning......
On THIS very cold West Central Florida Sunday morning (39 degrees), THIS family struggled to get to worship.
All of us had our own issues.
A couple of us didn't/don't feel well.
A few wardrobe malfunctions.
Lots of crankiness.
Yep.
Rough morning.
Before we left the house, there were tears.
And a pow-pow. (Piratese for spanking)
The ride to church was UBER-quiet.
We arrive at church, thirty minutes early.
SOMEONE is in OUR parking space.
Two Swords thinks we 'own' it.
Like 'our' pew.
Ree-dick-you-less.
I know.
But another 'omen', of, Good Lord, can this day GET any worse?
YES!
Of course it can!
But, at that moment in time, struggling with all of these 'struggles', I neglected to see the other side of the coin.
Good Lord, can this day get any BETTER?
YES!
Of course it can!
And friends, it did. Soooooo much better.
We had no idea what this worship service had in store for us today.
How could we?
How does anyone know, on any given Sunday, when God will be speaking to YOU?
Like, on any given Sunday, either football team can win, right?
And on any given Sunday, your ears and eyes just might be opened to a message you weren't expecting to hear, but man oh man, you certainly were in NEED of hearing.
I flipped through the bulletin and noticed the sermon title was "The Beatitudes", but the big projector screens kept flashing the word "BLESSED".
Hmmmm.
VERY intrigued I was.
Considering how I know how blessed we are and always have been.
But for a really long time, it's been hard to muddle through the muck and pampas grass that has been our 'life', to 'see' those blessings and focus on THEM each and every day instead of being brought down by the muck and the muddling.
Worship started with our future American Idol, "Reilly the Red", singing with her "Graceland Singers" troupe.
She was AWE-SOME.
I mean, all of a sudden, she can really S I N G!
She held that really long high note, for a really long high time!
I couldn't believe it!
See, she's been inspired by American Idol.
Most of the winners/contenders on American Idol all got their starts in:
C H U R C H
So Reilly has Carrie Underwood and American Idol on the brain.
As she headed for her 'first' trip to the microphone this morning, I said, "Jesus at the Wheel" baby girl! Jesus at the Wheel!"
She looked at me like "My mom is a complete dork."
And sang her BUTT off.
So proud.
Daddy has tears running down his face.
Jake is all, "YAY SISSY!"
I have goosebumps in places I didn't know there were goosebumps.
And THEN....for the first time ever.....she and her pardner Eva were invited to sing with the grown ups!
No practice.
Winged it.
Held her own for two songs.
How did she know the words, with no practice?
Well, in case you didn't know, these days, little church-goers have Contemporary Christian music on their i-Pods. Which my Contemporary Christian friend and pew-mate and fellow Steeler fanatic, Mister Bill finds hilarious for some reason. But she knew all the words, that's the point.
One of the songs that they sang was "Sanctuary".
Which JUST SO HAPPENS to be Jake's "MOMMY'S LULLABY".
Meaning, the song that MOMMY sings to him, and has sung to him since the day he was born.
So, Jake was sitting in my lap, still steamed about the "I hate this boring shirt that my Dad made me wear to church this morning menagerie", but when he hears the first notes, he lights up and says:
"MOMMY! IT'S YOUR LULLABY!"
And I said, "Sing it baby! Just like Sissy. Loud and proud."
And he did.
If you don't know the words, this is them:
All that really matters is that she translated THAT gospel to the Fallon Family, that WE ARE BLESSED.
If we're suffering, we're blessed.
If we're grieving, we're blessed.
If we're weak, we're blessed.
And Pastor Carrie expounded a bit on how people over the centuries have tried to grasp how it can be possible to be all these 'things', yet be 'blessed' at the same time.
Finally, she summed it up.
Because Jesus said so.
That's why.
It's right there.
In Matthew.
She just read it to us.
Because HE said so, that's why.
Man, have I been stupid.
I looked at my baptizing rock star-to be.
I looked at my entertaining preaching mayor-to be.
I looked at my husband.
I looked at my AMAZING church family.
I looked at my hands, one of which still wears a wedding ring.
WE ARE BLESSED!
Because HE said so.
God was in the House today.
And I am so prayerfully thankful that I was a guest there today.
~
Hellfire, and damnation, I don't even know where to start!
At the revelation?
At the goosebumps?
At the baptism?
At the tears?
Whew.
How about at the beginning?
Yeah, that's a good idea.
I'll start at the beginning.
In the beginning......
On THIS very cold West Central Florida Sunday morning (39 degrees), THIS family struggled to get to worship.
All of us had our own issues.
A couple of us didn't/don't feel well.
A few wardrobe malfunctions.
Lots of crankiness.
Yep.
Rough morning.
Before we left the house, there were tears.
And a pow-pow. (Piratese for spanking)
The ride to church was UBER-quiet.
We arrive at church, thirty minutes early.
SOMEONE is in OUR parking space.
Two Swords thinks we 'own' it.
Like 'our' pew.
Ree-dick-you-less.
I know.
But another 'omen', of, Good Lord, can this day GET any worse?
YES!
Of course it can!
But, at that moment in time, struggling with all of these 'struggles', I neglected to see the other side of the coin.
Good Lord, can this day get any BETTER?
YES!
Of course it can!
And friends, it did. Soooooo much better.
We had no idea what this worship service had in store for us today.
How could we?
How does anyone know, on any given Sunday, when God will be speaking to YOU?
Like, on any given Sunday, either football team can win, right?
And on any given Sunday, your ears and eyes just might be opened to a message you weren't expecting to hear, but man oh man, you certainly were in NEED of hearing.
I flipped through the bulletin and noticed the sermon title was "The Beatitudes", but the big projector screens kept flashing the word "BLESSED".
Hmmmm.
VERY intrigued I was.
Considering how I know how blessed we are and always have been.
But for a really long time, it's been hard to muddle through the muck and pampas grass that has been our 'life', to 'see' those blessings and focus on THEM each and every day instead of being brought down by the muck and the muddling.
Worship started with our future American Idol, "Reilly the Red", singing with her "Graceland Singers" troupe.
She was AWE-SOME.
I mean, all of a sudden, she can really S I N G!
She held that really long high note, for a really long high time!
I couldn't believe it!
See, she's been inspired by American Idol.
Most of the winners/contenders on American Idol all got their starts in:
C H U R C H
So Reilly has Carrie Underwood and American Idol on the brain.
As she headed for her 'first' trip to the microphone this morning, I said, "Jesus at the Wheel" baby girl! Jesus at the Wheel!"
She looked at me like "My mom is a complete dork."
And sang her BUTT off.
So proud.
Daddy has tears running down his face.
Jake is all, "YAY SISSY!"
I have goosebumps in places I didn't know there were goosebumps.
And THEN....for the first time ever.....she and her pardner Eva were invited to sing with the grown ups!
No practice.
Winged it.
Held her own for two songs.
How did she know the words, with no practice?
Well, in case you didn't know, these days, little church-goers have Contemporary Christian music on their i-Pods. Which my Contemporary Christian friend and pew-mate and fellow Steeler fanatic, Mister Bill finds hilarious for some reason. But she knew all the words, that's the point.
One of the songs that they sang was "Sanctuary".
Which JUST SO HAPPENS to be Jake's "MOMMY'S LULLABY".
Meaning, the song that MOMMY sings to him, and has sung to him since the day he was born.
So, Jake was sitting in my lap, still steamed about the "I hate this boring shirt that my Dad made me wear to church this morning menagerie", but when he hears the first notes, he lights up and says:
"MOMMY! IT'S YOUR LULLABY!"
And I said, "Sing it baby! Just like Sissy. Loud and proud."
And he did.
If you don't know the words, this is them:
Lord, pre-pare me
To be a Sanc-tu-ar-yyyyyy
Pure and hol-yyyyyy
Tried and truuuuuuuuuue
With Thanks-giving
I'll be a li-ving
Sanc-tu-ar-yyyyyyyy
Forrrrrrrr you
And he sang it, loud and proud.
And I realize, God is in the house today.
I know He is ALWAYS in the house, but TODAY, he was SPEAKING, YELLING, SCREAMING to the Fallon Family - YO! I'M IN THE HOUSE TODAY, AND LISTEN UP, I AM SPEAKING TO Y'ALL!
Next up - and I gotta tell ya, this was some special service today - a middle schooler, and friend of our family, Tanner, read the scripture today.
When he approached the podium, Tanner said, "Good morning."
The congregation pretty much mumbled, "mornin'."
And it is dead quiet, as we await Tanner's reading of the scripture when Jake says in his normal voice, but it seemed super loud because nobody was talking, says:
"Goooooddddd mornnnnninnnngggggggggg, Tannnnnnnerrrrrrrrr."
Thankfully, Jake and Tanner are 'peeps', and Tanner smiled, and I think Jake's own way of saying, "hey, Tanner way to go, making it to the pulpit, to the big time!" kinda broke the ice for Tanner and calmed any nerves he may have had.
And I gotta give props to Tanner too. It was some kind of gold medal service today, I'm telling you. You really do wish you had been there. Trust me.
Reilly returns to 'our' pew (which was not 'stolen' from us today, thank goodness. Ha.)
She informs us that Pastor Carrie asked her to ASSIST WITH A BABY'S BAPTISM today.
Billy and I looked at her, looked at each other, and both went, "WWWHHHHAAAATTTTT?", not angrily, but whoa so thrilled and honored and surprised and man, I don't think this has happened before in our church EVER and I can tell you that ME, well I am thinking, "Is this why she died and came back to life? Is it? Is this part of God's plan for her? Is it? Would she be helping with a baptism if she hadn't had that life affirming, life-altering, life-saving, died and gone to heaven experience?"
There was shock in the pew. (Well, I don't think Aunt Jodi and Mister Bill were in shock, because they had no idea how God was working for us this morning, but 4/6 of the pew was in shock.)
Next came the Children's Message.
Ya just never know what's gonna happen at the Children's Message.
When the Jakester is present, that is.
Because, the Children's Message is always a Q & A between the Pastor and the kiddos.
And as we all know, Jake has all the A's. Just ask him.
So Pastor Shawn had all the kids sit in the very front pews today, instead of on the floor, because he was giving them a first row seat of the baptism that was about to occur.
And he was (I think), trying to explain to them that the baptism was going to be our way of 'blessing' this baby.
He starts with, "Does anyone know what a blessing is?"
And Jake responded, "Yeah, a blessing is a prayer before you eat your dinner, like we bless our food when we say 'God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food."
And Pastor Shawn gave him a "Yes!"
And then a second later, I hear Pastor Shawn say, "Can I have that please, Jake. Thank you."
Yeah.
Jake tried to jack the microphone.
Busted.
RIGHT after giving the RIGHT answer at Children's Message.
Sigh.
The life of Jake.
Then, to give another example of a blessing, Pastor Shawn said, "So, if I were to sneeze, what would you say to me?"
Duh, the obvious answer is, "God Bless You!"
Unless you are Jake.
Jake responds to the question, "So, if I were to sneeze, what would you say to me?", with:
"BLOW YOUR NOSE!"
And the usual eruption of laughter occurs, when ummmm, 'Jake' is in the house.
So Pastor Shawn wraps up his message (thanks to the other little disciples who gave 'right' answers), and Pastor Carrie proceeds with the baptism of baby Cody, who I think is going to fit quite nicely into our little country church's group of young'uns, cuz he was a smiling little ham the whole time.
Pastor Carrie motioned for Reilly to come to the altar.
Reilly helped her to pour the water into the baptismal font.
More tears from Dad.
More goosebumps from Mom.
Complete curiousity from Jake, who sneaks away from his seat to get a better glimpse of what his sister is doing, as he has never witnessed a baptism before.
And 'we' were all reminded of our baptismal vows.
We, the congregation.
But most importantly, 'we', the parents of Reilly and Jake.
I need to rewind a couple of days....
Surreally, earlier in the week, my wise sage friend PJ and I spoke.
About a lot.
I'll cut to the chase.
When he asked me how we were doing, I said, "better than 6 months ago, better than 3 months ago....so, better."
He said he was glad to hear that.
And then I said, "But one thing is for certain - we are 100% committed to the raising of those babies TOGETHER, in the SAME house, as ONE family. That has ALWAYS been the committment, that has ALWAYS been the plan, and that IS what we are DOING right NOW. And they are thriving, and they both have AMAZING hearts for Jesus...and....and...and...."
And PJ says, "Heather, I want to thank you."
"Ummmm? For what?"
"For honoring the baptismal vows you made for your children."
Hmmm.
Didn't really know I was or was not doing that, but okay.
And he told me that he cannot count the number of couples who come in and join the church and take the baptism 'class' and baptize their baby, and then he NEVER SEES THEM AGAIN. He says it breaks his heart that he doesn't know if these children are being raised in the faith, if the parents are still married....it really bothers him.
I said, "Well, I have to tell you. Most of the time, it's the kids that pull us out of 'it'. It's the kids who pull us together."
He said, "that's what being married and having a family is all about. No matter how down or how lost you are feeling, or how you feel like you are about to lose everything, you and Billy have somehow held it together for all this time."
God was in the house during THAT conversation, because it hit me pretty hard, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
Forwarding back to this morning -
The parents of Baby Cody took their baptismal vows.
I listened VERY, VERY intently, as it had been awhile since we took our last set of bapitsmal vows, in February, 2005.
Yes, in fact, PJ was 100% correct.
Billy and I have honored our baptismal vows.
We have declared Jesus as our Lord and Savior.
We have OPENLY and OFTEN-LY declared our faith, and have KEPT our pledge to raise our children as Christians.
Yes, we HAVE relied on God's grace to live the Christian faith, and teach that faith to our children.
We DO renounce evil and its power in the world, which defies righteousness and love.
Although we are sinners and will be 'til the day we die, we certainly do RENOUNCE the ways of sin that separate us from the love of God. We certainly RENOUNCE it, but when we COMMIT it, we CONFESS it, and we are FORGIVEN. But RENOUNCE it, heck ya, we do. I can't tell you how often I pray for the binding of Satan from my home, my marraige, my children, my life, my friends, my family, my church, our world.
We ABSOLUTELY intend to be Christ's faithful disciple, obeying His word, and showing His love, to our life's end.
Yes.
YES!
We ARE honoring our baptismal vows!
I wanted to chest bump somebody, I was so filled with the Spirit at that moment!
Vows completed, baby baptized and toted around the aisle to 'meet' the congregation, Reilly back to her seat, and it's sermon time.
Now, I've already seen God today. A whole bunch of times.
I hadn't seen nuthin' yet.
It started like this:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
Matthew 5:3-10
I am not even going to ATTEMPT to paraphrase Pastor Carrie's sermon.And I realize, God is in the house today.
I know He is ALWAYS in the house, but TODAY, he was SPEAKING, YELLING, SCREAMING to the Fallon Family - YO! I'M IN THE HOUSE TODAY, AND LISTEN UP, I AM SPEAKING TO Y'ALL!
Next up - and I gotta tell ya, this was some special service today - a middle schooler, and friend of our family, Tanner, read the scripture today.
When he approached the podium, Tanner said, "Good morning."
The congregation pretty much mumbled, "mornin'."
And it is dead quiet, as we await Tanner's reading of the scripture when Jake says in his normal voice, but it seemed super loud because nobody was talking, says:
"Goooooddddd mornnnnninnnngggggggggg, Tannnnnnnerrrrrrrrr."
Thankfully, Jake and Tanner are 'peeps', and Tanner smiled, and I think Jake's own way of saying, "hey, Tanner way to go, making it to the pulpit, to the big time!" kinda broke the ice for Tanner and calmed any nerves he may have had.
And I gotta give props to Tanner too. It was some kind of gold medal service today, I'm telling you. You really do wish you had been there. Trust me.
Reilly returns to 'our' pew (which was not 'stolen' from us today, thank goodness. Ha.)
She informs us that Pastor Carrie asked her to ASSIST WITH A BABY'S BAPTISM today.
Billy and I looked at her, looked at each other, and both went, "WWWHHHHAAAATTTTT?", not angrily, but whoa so thrilled and honored and surprised and man, I don't think this has happened before in our church EVER and I can tell you that ME, well I am thinking, "Is this why she died and came back to life? Is it? Is this part of God's plan for her? Is it? Would she be helping with a baptism if she hadn't had that life affirming, life-altering, life-saving, died and gone to heaven experience?"
There was shock in the pew. (Well, I don't think Aunt Jodi and Mister Bill were in shock, because they had no idea how God was working for us this morning, but 4/6 of the pew was in shock.)
Next came the Children's Message.
Ya just never know what's gonna happen at the Children's Message.
When the Jakester is present, that is.
Because, the Children's Message is always a Q & A between the Pastor and the kiddos.
And as we all know, Jake has all the A's. Just ask him.
So Pastor Shawn had all the kids sit in the very front pews today, instead of on the floor, because he was giving them a first row seat of the baptism that was about to occur.
And he was (I think), trying to explain to them that the baptism was going to be our way of 'blessing' this baby.
He starts with, "Does anyone know what a blessing is?"
And Jake responded, "Yeah, a blessing is a prayer before you eat your dinner, like we bless our food when we say 'God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food."
And Pastor Shawn gave him a "Yes!"
And then a second later, I hear Pastor Shawn say, "Can I have that please, Jake. Thank you."
Yeah.
Jake tried to jack the microphone.
Busted.
RIGHT after giving the RIGHT answer at Children's Message.
Sigh.
The life of Jake.
Then, to give another example of a blessing, Pastor Shawn said, "So, if I were to sneeze, what would you say to me?"
Duh, the obvious answer is, "God Bless You!"
Unless you are Jake.
Jake responds to the question, "So, if I were to sneeze, what would you say to me?", with:
"BLOW YOUR NOSE!"
And the usual eruption of laughter occurs, when ummmm, 'Jake' is in the house.
So Pastor Shawn wraps up his message (thanks to the other little disciples who gave 'right' answers), and Pastor Carrie proceeds with the baptism of baby Cody, who I think is going to fit quite nicely into our little country church's group of young'uns, cuz he was a smiling little ham the whole time.
Pastor Carrie motioned for Reilly to come to the altar.
Reilly helped her to pour the water into the baptismal font.
More tears from Dad.
More goosebumps from Mom.
Complete curiousity from Jake, who sneaks away from his seat to get a better glimpse of what his sister is doing, as he has never witnessed a baptism before.
And 'we' were all reminded of our baptismal vows.
We, the congregation.
But most importantly, 'we', the parents of Reilly and Jake.
I need to rewind a couple of days....
Surreally, earlier in the week, my wise sage friend PJ and I spoke.
About a lot.
I'll cut to the chase.
When he asked me how we were doing, I said, "better than 6 months ago, better than 3 months ago....so, better."
He said he was glad to hear that.
And then I said, "But one thing is for certain - we are 100% committed to the raising of those babies TOGETHER, in the SAME house, as ONE family. That has ALWAYS been the committment, that has ALWAYS been the plan, and that IS what we are DOING right NOW. And they are thriving, and they both have AMAZING hearts for Jesus...and....and...and...."
And PJ says, "Heather, I want to thank you."
"Ummmm? For what?"
"For honoring the baptismal vows you made for your children."
Hmmm.
Didn't really know I was or was not doing that, but okay.
And he told me that he cannot count the number of couples who come in and join the church and take the baptism 'class' and baptize their baby, and then he NEVER SEES THEM AGAIN. He says it breaks his heart that he doesn't know if these children are being raised in the faith, if the parents are still married....it really bothers him.
I said, "Well, I have to tell you. Most of the time, it's the kids that pull us out of 'it'. It's the kids who pull us together."
He said, "that's what being married and having a family is all about. No matter how down or how lost you are feeling, or how you feel like you are about to lose everything, you and Billy have somehow held it together for all this time."
God was in the house during THAT conversation, because it hit me pretty hard, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
Forwarding back to this morning -
The parents of Baby Cody took their baptismal vows.
I listened VERY, VERY intently, as it had been awhile since we took our last set of bapitsmal vows, in February, 2005.
Yes, in fact, PJ was 100% correct.
Billy and I have honored our baptismal vows.
We have declared Jesus as our Lord and Savior.
We have OPENLY and OFTEN-LY declared our faith, and have KEPT our pledge to raise our children as Christians.
Yes, we HAVE relied on God's grace to live the Christian faith, and teach that faith to our children.
We DO renounce evil and its power in the world, which defies righteousness and love.
Although we are sinners and will be 'til the day we die, we certainly do RENOUNCE the ways of sin that separate us from the love of God. We certainly RENOUNCE it, but when we COMMIT it, we CONFESS it, and we are FORGIVEN. But RENOUNCE it, heck ya, we do. I can't tell you how often I pray for the binding of Satan from my home, my marraige, my children, my life, my friends, my family, my church, our world.
We ABSOLUTELY intend to be Christ's faithful disciple, obeying His word, and showing His love, to our life's end.
Yes.
YES!
We ARE honoring our baptismal vows!
I wanted to chest bump somebody, I was so filled with the Spirit at that moment!
Vows completed, baby baptized and toted around the aisle to 'meet' the congregation, Reilly back to her seat, and it's sermon time.
Now, I've already seen God today. A whole bunch of times.
I hadn't seen nuthin' yet.
It started like this:
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
All that really matters is that she translated THAT gospel to the Fallon Family, that WE ARE BLESSED.
If we're suffering, we're blessed.
If we're grieving, we're blessed.
If we're weak, we're blessed.
And Pastor Carrie expounded a bit on how people over the centuries have tried to grasp how it can be possible to be all these 'things', yet be 'blessed' at the same time.
Finally, she summed it up.
Because Jesus said so.
That's why.
It's right there.
In Matthew.
She just read it to us.
Because HE said so, that's why.
Man, have I been stupid.
I looked at my baptizing rock star-to be.
I looked at my entertaining preaching mayor-to be.
I looked at my husband.
I looked at my AMAZING church family.
I looked at my hands, one of which still wears a wedding ring.
WE ARE BLESSED!
Because HE said so.
God was in the House today.
And I am so prayerfully thankful that I was a guest there today.
~
Buy Some Toilet Paper!
~
Heeeeere we go again!
So.
Captain Jake Sparrow was given permission to get a frozen Go-gurt.
A few minutes later, Two Swords realizes the freezer door is still open.
And he realizes that the Sparrow is, um, in the bathroom.
Because of course, THAT door is open as well.
As it ALWAYS is, when the Sparrow is taking care of his faculties.
And Two Swords says, 'Ya forgot to close the freezer door!'
And the Sparrow says, "oops, sorry about that!"
And Two Swords says, 'Whaddya doing? Pooping? There's not even any toilet paper in there, is there?"
Sparrow: "No! There sure isn't! What am I going to do?"
And in utter frustration, I say, "Jake! What are you going to do when you go to college and you don't have any toilet paper."
And then I said, out loud, "I need to rephrase that. Jake! What are you going to do IF you go to college and you don't have any toilet paper?"
And the quintessentially astute Sparrow replied, "I'd buy some toilet paper, that's what I'd do! Duh!"
Oh, the life of the mother of a Sparrow.
~
Heeeeere we go again!
So.
Captain Jake Sparrow was given permission to get a frozen Go-gurt.
A few minutes later, Two Swords realizes the freezer door is still open.
And he realizes that the Sparrow is, um, in the bathroom.
Because of course, THAT door is open as well.
As it ALWAYS is, when the Sparrow is taking care of his faculties.
And Two Swords says, 'Ya forgot to close the freezer door!'
And the Sparrow says, "oops, sorry about that!"
And Two Swords says, 'Whaddya doing? Pooping? There's not even any toilet paper in there, is there?"
Sparrow: "No! There sure isn't! What am I going to do?"
And in utter frustration, I say, "Jake! What are you going to do when you go to college and you don't have any toilet paper."
And then I said, out loud, "I need to rephrase that. Jake! What are you going to do IF you go to college and you don't have any toilet paper?"
And the quintessentially astute Sparrow replied, "I'd buy some toilet paper, that's what I'd do! Duh!"
Oh, the life of the mother of a Sparrow.
~
The Stupid Boring Four Hundred Dollar Shirt
~
On this VERY cold West Central Florida Sunday morning (39 degrees), THIS family struggled to get to worship.
All of us had our own issues.
A couple of us didn't/don't feel well.
One of us wore gloves through the entire worship service so she (me) wouldn't get any 'more' germs.
One of us, who already has two bad knees, somehow blew out her right knee (nope, have no idea how this happened) and went to church with an ace bandage wrapped around an ice pack on her knee, underneath leggings and a long skirt, and I don't think anyone noticed, so, 'whew'.
One of us threw a fit over having to wear a long sleeved 'boring' shirt.
One of us wasn't dressed up enough to be singing with the Praise Band for the first time.
Yep.
Rough morning.
Before we left the house, there were tears.
And a spanking.
The ride to church was UBER-quiet.
We arrive at church.
SOMEONE is in OUR parking space.
Two Swords thinks we 'own' it. Like 'our' pew.
We've only been parking there for eleven years.
And we were thirty minutes early.
Ree-dick-you-less.
I know.
But another 'omen', of, Good Lord, can this day GET any worse?
YES!
Of course it can!
Two Swords and Reilly the Red exit the car promptly, as Reilly the Red had an important role in the service today. She sang with her usual group, "The Graceland Singers" (yeah, they'll be cuttin' a record someday, don't worry, you'll be hearing from them, I guar-an-tee it). She also had the priviledge of singing with the adult Praise Band for the very first time. AND, was HONORABLY asked to assist with an infant's BAPTISM today! So proud of our little girl today! Lots of tears and goosebumps with our little miracle baby girl today!
The kid who got spanked over a clothing issue refuses to exit the vehicle.
His name would be....Jake.
He has cried silently all the way to church.
He hates his shirt.
It's a rugby shirt.
It makes him look taller.
It makes him look older.
It's a really cool shirt, really, and it looked good on him.
But nope, he hated it, didn't want to wear it, and threw a wild fit when he was forced to, because it was super cold outside, and then felt the wrath (literally) for his obstinate and foolish disobedience.
Hasn't even unbuckled himself.
Has no interest in entering church, whatsoever.
So I get in the backseat and try to 'reason' with him.
"Jake."
"WHAT?" (Folded arms, huff and puff)
"I want to tell you about that shirt you're wearing."
"IT'S BORING AND I HATE IT."
"Jake, I'm going to tell you something. That shirt you are wearing was given to you by your friend Hunter, and Christian wears them and Josh wears them and Wyatt wears them and Uncle Lou wears them and Uncle Chris wears them and they are super cool."
"THEY ARE BORING AND STUPID AND I HATE IT."
"Jake, do you know what that shirt is called?"
"STUPID."
"No, Jake, it's called a RUGBY Shirt. Do you know what RUGBY is?"
"STUPID."
"No, Jake, Rugby is a sport. And it 's a BADASS sport, and it's so BADASS that you could even DIE while playing it, so no, it is not boring, and it is not stupid, and no one will think that it is."
"EVERYONE WILL MAKE FUN OF ME."
"Jake. I will make you a deal. Are you interested in making you a deal?"
"What's the deal? HMPHHHH." (Arms folded even tighter, lips pursed together.)
"Jake. I will give you ONE DOLLAR for every single person who says your shirt looks boring OR stupid."
He unbuckles his seat.
PROGRESS!
We get out of the car.
I'M THE SMARTEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!
We start walking towards the sanctuary.
He says, "What happens if FOUR HUNDRED people say that they don't like my shirt?"
(Friends, our church has approx. 200 members, so, yeah, I was safe.)
"Well then Jake, I guess I will be giving you four hundred dollars then."
"Where the heck ya gonna get that kinda money, Mom?"
"You just let ME worry about the money, and YOU count how many people tell you your shirt is stupid and boring. Deal?"
"Deal."
Of course, no one told him his shirt was stupid or boring.
After worship was over, and Jake was in Sunday school, I ran into a fellow congregant, Miss Joan, and she was raving about my *awesome* kids, and I said, "funny story, Miss Joan...." and I told her about the story of the shirt.
She chuckled, and she said, "Where is he?"
I said he was in Sunday school.
Miss Joan tracked him down.
She told him she loved his shirt.
An hour later, when we were done with church for the day, and Jake exits Sunday school, I say, "Hey buddy! So, um, how much do I owe you?"
"Nuthin."
"WHAT? NOBODY said your shirt was stupid and boring?"
"Nope."
"Not ONE person said ANYTHING about your shirt?"
"Well, one person did."
"They did? Who did? What did they say?"
"Some nice lady, I can't remember her name, but Reilly knows it, but she told me she liked my shirt, so you owe me a dollar."
"No, I don't owe you a dollar. She LIKED your shirt. That wasn't the deal."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Really?
~
On this VERY cold West Central Florida Sunday morning (39 degrees), THIS family struggled to get to worship.
All of us had our own issues.
A couple of us didn't/don't feel well.
One of us wore gloves through the entire worship service so she (me) wouldn't get any 'more' germs.
One of us, who already has two bad knees, somehow blew out her right knee (nope, have no idea how this happened) and went to church with an ace bandage wrapped around an ice pack on her knee, underneath leggings and a long skirt, and I don't think anyone noticed, so, 'whew'.
One of us threw a fit over having to wear a long sleeved 'boring' shirt.
One of us wasn't dressed up enough to be singing with the Praise Band for the first time.
Yep.
Rough morning.
Before we left the house, there were tears.
And a spanking.
The ride to church was UBER-quiet.
We arrive at church.
SOMEONE is in OUR parking space.
Two Swords thinks we 'own' it. Like 'our' pew.
We've only been parking there for eleven years.
And we were thirty minutes early.
Ree-dick-you-less.
I know.
But another 'omen', of, Good Lord, can this day GET any worse?
YES!
Of course it can!
Two Swords and Reilly the Red exit the car promptly, as Reilly the Red had an important role in the service today. She sang with her usual group, "The Graceland Singers" (yeah, they'll be cuttin' a record someday, don't worry, you'll be hearing from them, I guar-an-tee it). She also had the priviledge of singing with the adult Praise Band for the very first time. AND, was HONORABLY asked to assist with an infant's BAPTISM today! So proud of our little girl today! Lots of tears and goosebumps with our little miracle baby girl today!
The kid who got spanked over a clothing issue refuses to exit the vehicle.
His name would be....Jake.
He has cried silently all the way to church.
He hates his shirt.
It's a rugby shirt.
It makes him look taller.
It makes him look older.
It's a really cool shirt, really, and it looked good on him.
But nope, he hated it, didn't want to wear it, and threw a wild fit when he was forced to, because it was super cold outside, and then felt the wrath (literally) for his obstinate and foolish disobedience.
Hasn't even unbuckled himself.
Has no interest in entering church, whatsoever.
So I get in the backseat and try to 'reason' with him.
"Jake."
"WHAT?" (Folded arms, huff and puff)
"I want to tell you about that shirt you're wearing."
"IT'S BORING AND I HATE IT."
"Jake, I'm going to tell you something. That shirt you are wearing was given to you by your friend Hunter, and Christian wears them and Josh wears them and Wyatt wears them and Uncle Lou wears them and Uncle Chris wears them and they are super cool."
"THEY ARE BORING AND STUPID AND I HATE IT."
"Jake, do you know what that shirt is called?"
"STUPID."
"No, Jake, it's called a RUGBY Shirt. Do you know what RUGBY is?"
"STUPID."
"No, Jake, Rugby is a sport. And it 's a BADASS sport, and it's so BADASS that you could even DIE while playing it, so no, it is not boring, and it is not stupid, and no one will think that it is."
"EVERYONE WILL MAKE FUN OF ME."
"Jake. I will make you a deal. Are you interested in making you a deal?"
"What's the deal? HMPHHHH." (Arms folded even tighter, lips pursed together.)
"Jake. I will give you ONE DOLLAR for every single person who says your shirt looks boring OR stupid."
He unbuckles his seat.
PROGRESS!
We get out of the car.
I'M THE SMARTEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!
We start walking towards the sanctuary.
He says, "What happens if FOUR HUNDRED people say that they don't like my shirt?"
(Friends, our church has approx. 200 members, so, yeah, I was safe.)
"Well then Jake, I guess I will be giving you four hundred dollars then."
"Where the heck ya gonna get that kinda money, Mom?"
"You just let ME worry about the money, and YOU count how many people tell you your shirt is stupid and boring. Deal?"
"Deal."
Of course, no one told him his shirt was stupid or boring.
After worship was over, and Jake was in Sunday school, I ran into a fellow congregant, Miss Joan, and she was raving about my *awesome* kids, and I said, "funny story, Miss Joan...." and I told her about the story of the shirt.
She chuckled, and she said, "Where is he?"
I said he was in Sunday school.
Miss Joan tracked him down.
She told him she loved his shirt.
An hour later, when we were done with church for the day, and Jake exits Sunday school, I say, "Hey buddy! So, um, how much do I owe you?"
"Nuthin."
"WHAT? NOBODY said your shirt was stupid and boring?"
"Nope."
"Not ONE person said ANYTHING about your shirt?"
"Well, one person did."
"They did? Who did? What did they say?"
"Some nice lady, I can't remember her name, but Reilly knows it, but she told me she liked my shirt, so you owe me a dollar."
"No, I don't owe you a dollar. She LIKED your shirt. That wasn't the deal."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Really?
~
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Working Mother Magazine
~
Can anyone tell me
WHY
my six year old son,
Jake,
received an invitation for a free subscription to:
WORKING MOTHER MAGAZINE
in
MY
email inbox?
Seriously.
~
Can anyone tell me
WHY
my six year old son,
Jake,
received an invitation for a free subscription to:
WORKING MOTHER MAGAZINE
in
MY
email inbox?
Seriously.
~
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Dishwasher-Safe, Part II
~
What's it been?
8 minutes or something?
The freaking cookie press infomercial just came on again.
I didn't even know.
Until I heard, "See? It's DISHWASHER SAFE!"
If his Benadryl and Tylenol doesn't kick in soon, I might just have to abandon him and move to another area of the house.
He can be the DISHWASHER SAFE ADVOCATE all by his damn self.
~
What's it been?
8 minutes or something?
The freaking cookie press infomercial just came on again.
I didn't even know.
Until I heard, "See? It's DISHWASHER SAFE!"
If his Benadryl and Tylenol doesn't kick in soon, I might just have to abandon him and move to another area of the house.
He can be the DISHWASHER SAFE ADVOCATE all by his damn self.
~
Dishwasher-Safe
~
So.
Today, I have been joined at Casa de Chaos by the Captain.
He's a bit under the weather.
No worries - just a mild fever, cough, yucky nose.
Not another shiner or a school suspension or anything.
Today, at least.
Anyhoo....
He's sittin' in his 'hole' in Daddy's chair, watching 'kid shows'.
And of course, on this particular channel, all the commercials are actually INFOmercials, for kid products.
Some crap like bracelets or slime or headbands, where you buy one, and you get not just one, but TWO, and blah blah and a fruit juicer or an extra crayon or something.
So a lot of the time, when he says, "Hey, can we get those Bandaroos (or whatever the hell they're called)?", I just usually say, 'sure', or 'no', or 'mmmm', or ignore him completely.
But today was unusual.
Today, was an infomercial for some cookie press thingamajig, which makes cookies and brownies (allegedly) into all sorts of shapes and sizes.
And of course I was NOT paying attention.
And the Sparrow says, "MOM! CAN WE GET THAT?"
And I say, "Get what?"
And he says, "That cookie press thing and we get not just one but TWO in case we break one."
And I mumbled, "Hmmm."
And then, hacking like an emphysema patient, feverish as can be, he whips his head around to where I am standing and he says:
"But MOM! - They are DISHWASHER SAFE!"
Right.
Now THAT is the deal sealer for sure...
~
So.
Today, I have been joined at Casa de Chaos by the Captain.
He's a bit under the weather.
No worries - just a mild fever, cough, yucky nose.
Not another shiner or a school suspension or anything.
Today, at least.
Anyhoo....
He's sittin' in his 'hole' in Daddy's chair, watching 'kid shows'.
And of course, on this particular channel, all the commercials are actually INFOmercials, for kid products.
Some crap like bracelets or slime or headbands, where you buy one, and you get not just one, but TWO, and blah blah and a fruit juicer or an extra crayon or something.
So a lot of the time, when he says, "Hey, can we get those Bandaroos (or whatever the hell they're called)?", I just usually say, 'sure', or 'no', or 'mmmm', or ignore him completely.
But today was unusual.
Today, was an infomercial for some cookie press thingamajig, which makes cookies and brownies (allegedly) into all sorts of shapes and sizes.
And of course I was NOT paying attention.
And the Sparrow says, "MOM! CAN WE GET THAT?"
And I say, "Get what?"
And he says, "That cookie press thing and we get not just one but TWO in case we break one."
And I mumbled, "Hmmm."
And then, hacking like an emphysema patient, feverish as can be, he whips his head around to where I am standing and he says:
"But MOM! - They are DISHWASHER SAFE!"
Right.
Now THAT is the deal sealer for sure...
~
Monday, February 7, 2011
Hostess Extraordinaire - Mermaidelicious
~
So.
My dang team lost.
Ugh.
However.........
There is/was some silver lining.
I have to my girl her props.
My BSILF - (Best Sister In Law Forever), Mermaidelicious.....
Interior Designer
Most awesomest crafter, she could win a Martha Stewart throwdown.
Fashion Consultant
Wife of my bro - (I think this one deserves the Nobel Peace Prize personally)
And.......
Hostess Extraordinaire.
When this chiquita throws a party, she THROWS a party!
So here's all the pics from the glorious (ahem) event.
Oh, and by the way.....
At all of her extraordinarilicious parties, but most particularly the Steeler ones, she replaces all of her usual hanging wall art, picture frames,etc., and replaces them with her husband's vast collection of Steeler nostalgia! Just for one day! And then she puts all her other stuff up a day later!
I know, RIGHT?
Hostess Extraordinaire!
Enjoy the show!
Well. There ya have it.
No more football posts for awhile.
Sigh.
Hopefully I'll come up with something else to talk about.
I can't imagine what it could be..........
Hmmmmm.
~
So.
My dang team lost.
Ugh.
However.........
There is/was some silver lining.
I have to my girl her props.
My BSILF - (Best Sister In Law Forever), Mermaidelicious.....
Interior Designer
Most awesomest crafter, she could win a Martha Stewart throwdown.
Fashion Consultant
Wife of my bro - (I think this one deserves the Nobel Peace Prize personally)
And.......
Hostess Extraordinaire.
When this chiquita throws a party, she THROWS a party!
So here's all the pics from the glorious (ahem) event.
Oh, and by the way.....
At all of her extraordinarilicious parties, but most particularly the Steeler ones, she replaces all of her usual hanging wall art, picture frames,etc., and replaces them with her husband's vast collection of Steeler nostalgia! Just for one day! And then she puts all her other stuff up a day later!
I know, RIGHT?
Hostess Extraordinaire!
Enjoy the show!
 |
| (And yes, the black and gold cupcakes were just as scrumptious as they look. Black and gold cupcakes! Gotta love this girl! Ya just gotta!) Reilly the Red helped with the sprinkles. Actually, she was the Sous Hostess Extraordinaire for most of the afternoon! |
 |
| And here's our girl! Making her 'bets' before kickoff, and kicking back and enjoying the fruits of her very hard labor! |
 |
| Autographed by Rocky Bleier, just so you know.......... |
 |
| Two Swords is wearing this shirt. He grew up a Cowboy fan. He converted. It was in our wedding vows. |
 |
| Uncle Two Fisted Chris, in control of the 'pot'. Gotta love the old school helmet! |
 |
| If you don't know who the dudes in this picture are, or the meaning of, well, I can't help you. Really, I can't. |
 |
| Hello. I'm pretty sure you know who THIS lunatic is. Wearing my Lambert '76-'77 commemmorative jersey that my awesome bro got me for Christmas! |
 |
| And no football post of mine would be complete without the Sparrow wearing 'Stick 'em'. (or, in his case, um, black eyeliner) He wouldn't let us take it off - he wanted to 'wear' it to school today to show all his 'pals'. Too funny! |
No more football posts for awhile.
Sigh.
Hopefully I'll come up with something else to talk about.
I can't imagine what it could be..........
Hmmmmm.
~
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Super Steeler Sunday
~
So.
Today is one of the most important days/nights of my life.
Because it's the Super Bowl.
And because the Steelers are IN!
And because, well, I hail from the 'burgh.
So.
Two Fisted Chris and Mermaidelicious are hosting a Pittsburgh Steeler fan 'ONLY' Super Bowl party.
So, we, are like 'there'.
Or, 'here', so to speak, since I'm sittin in front of the big screen, wearing my Jack Lambert '76 retro jersey, being totally and completely anti-social. Cuz', I usually don't do Super Bowl parties.
Why? do you ask?
Cuz, I tend to get just a teeny, tiny, little bit mouthy.
And I'm here with my bro, and we're the only people here that are Pittsburgh bred and bled, so, we're just a teeny, tiny, little bit SERIOUS about this.
This is not a game.
Oh....no.........no, no no.
You just wouldn't understand.
I lived in Pittsburgh when they won their first four Super Bowls.
I was old enough to remember, and I'm old enough to talk the talk.
To me, living in Pittsburgh when the Steelers win a Super Bowl is as equivalent of a sporting experience as it was when Billy Two Swords took me to my first NASCAR race which just happened to be the one where Senior died.
It's like you're THERE, man.
You can move from the 'burgh.
You can get mad when they lose for a couple years.
But, if you are a REAL Steeler, you will be a Steeler for life. And there ain't nothin' you can do about it.
Just like Sam Elliott just said - "from a town built on steel, where being terrible is a good thing."
Yeah baby!
Let's go #7!
Note to self - why did Terry Bradshaw wear a freaking FUCHSIA blazer while interviewing Ben Roethlisberger? Ugh. Who knows why Terry Bradshaw doth what he does.
.
So.
Today is one of the most important days/nights of my life.
Because it's the Super Bowl.
And because the Steelers are IN!
And because, well, I hail from the 'burgh.
So.
Two Fisted Chris and Mermaidelicious are hosting a Pittsburgh Steeler fan 'ONLY' Super Bowl party.
So, we, are like 'there'.
Or, 'here', so to speak, since I'm sittin in front of the big screen, wearing my Jack Lambert '76 retro jersey, being totally and completely anti-social. Cuz', I usually don't do Super Bowl parties.
Why? do you ask?
Cuz, I tend to get just a teeny, tiny, little bit mouthy.
And I'm here with my bro, and we're the only people here that are Pittsburgh bred and bled, so, we're just a teeny, tiny, little bit SERIOUS about this.
This is not a game.
Oh....no.........no, no no.
You just wouldn't understand.
I lived in Pittsburgh when they won their first four Super Bowls.
I was old enough to remember, and I'm old enough to talk the talk.
To me, living in Pittsburgh when the Steelers win a Super Bowl is as equivalent of a sporting experience as it was when Billy Two Swords took me to my first NASCAR race which just happened to be the one where Senior died.
It's like you're THERE, man.
You can move from the 'burgh.
You can get mad when they lose for a couple years.
But, if you are a REAL Steeler, you will be a Steeler for life. And there ain't nothin' you can do about it.
Just like Sam Elliott just said - "from a town built on steel, where being terrible is a good thing."
Yeah baby!
Let's go #7!
Note to self - why did Terry Bradshaw wear a freaking FUCHSIA blazer while interviewing Ben Roethlisberger? Ugh. Who knows why Terry Bradshaw doth what he does.
.
America's Got Talent
~
So.
I was busy today, trying to get the Sparrow and myself ready to go, and gather up some items, and....you know, just get the heck out the door.
And then the mouth started.
"Hey Mom?"
What?
"When does 'America's Got Talent' start again?"
Why?
"Cuz, I got me some talent."
Really.
"Yeah, I got me lots of talents."
Oh yeah?
"Yeah, and I really want to go on that show and show everybody my talents."
So, um, (and why-oh-why-oh-why-oh-why do I ask?) what are these alleged 'talents' of yours?
"Well, I can jump a shark on a dirtbike."
(!)
(HUH?)
Really?
"Yup."
So, is the shark like dead, and in the front yard when you jump it on this um, dirt bike that you don't have?
"No way Mom, of course the shark is not dead and in the front yard, it's in a TANK! and I drive my dirt bike that I may not have YET, but I'll have it before America's Got Talent comes back on."
Uh, oh-kay.
"Mom! You didn't ask me my other talents."
Oh-buoy. There's more?
Okay, dude, what are your other talents?
"Well....I can carry a milk jug on my head while riding a tricycle."
Seriously?
"Yep. Sure can."
Geesh Jake, that sounds like something that a C L O W N would do.
"MOM! Stop it! You KNOW that clowns FREAK ME OUT!"
Okay.
"So, you know that I can do a NOSE wheelie with the front wheel of a chopper, right?"
Nope, sure didn't know that Jake.
"Well, did you know that I can use sunglasses as a frisbee?"
Nope, but that would really be considered 'talent', for sure.
"So, how ya gonna get me on that show, Mom?"
I dunno Jake.
I don't got no talents.
~
So.
I was busy today, trying to get the Sparrow and myself ready to go, and gather up some items, and....you know, just get the heck out the door.
And then the mouth started.
"Hey Mom?"
What?
"When does 'America's Got Talent' start again?"
Why?
"Cuz, I got me some talent."
Really.
"Yeah, I got me lots of talents."
Oh yeah?
"Yeah, and I really want to go on that show and show everybody my talents."
So, um, (and why-oh-why-oh-why-oh-why do I ask?) what are these alleged 'talents' of yours?
"Well, I can jump a shark on a dirtbike."
(!)
(HUH?)
Really?
"Yup."
So, is the shark like dead, and in the front yard when you jump it on this um, dirt bike that you don't have?
"No way Mom, of course the shark is not dead and in the front yard, it's in a TANK! and I drive my dirt bike that I may not have YET, but I'll have it before America's Got Talent comes back on."
Uh, oh-kay.
"Mom! You didn't ask me my other talents."
Oh-buoy. There's more?
Okay, dude, what are your other talents?
"Well....I can carry a milk jug on my head while riding a tricycle."
Seriously?
"Yep. Sure can."
Geesh Jake, that sounds like something that a C L O W N would do.
"MOM! Stop it! You KNOW that clowns FREAK ME OUT!"
Okay.
"So, you know that I can do a NOSE wheelie with the front wheel of a chopper, right?"
Nope, sure didn't know that Jake.
"Well, did you know that I can use sunglasses as a frisbee?"
Nope, but that would really be considered 'talent', for sure.
"So, how ya gonna get me on that show, Mom?"
I dunno Jake.
I don't got no talents.
~
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
One Fine Day
~
After reading the title of this post, are you hearing the song in your head? Or does the George Clooney/Michelle Pfeiffer movie of one thousand years ago come to mind?
Well, today, I had myself One F-I-N-E Day.
I know, right?
It's about time, RIGHT?
You want all the gorey details, RIGHT?
Hold on, Ima gonna tell 'em to ya.
So.
Today started out pretty swell from the get go.
Today was my morning to sleep in, as Two Swords and I trade off on morning kid duty.
Two Swords came into the bedroom around 830 to let me know that he was headed off on his adventure for the day. I saw what time it was, and decided, yeah, I guess I'll get up.
I had no firm plans, really. Not until 3:30, when my daily chaos usually starts.
But I grabbed some coffee, and had a bowl of frosted flakes, and spent a few minutes with my friends at Fox and FRIENDS.
And then I decided that I had the energy and motivation and solitude to perhaps get my taxes finished today, AND get control of the always-present, never-ending, I-really-do-hate-it-as-much-as-you-do-honey, MOUNTAIN of paperwork that resides in a laundry basket and irks my husband quite possibly more than anything else that I do. No. EVERYTHING that I do irks him, but yeah, he hates the traveling paper basket.
So, anyhoo, that was my P.L.A.N.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Auntie Em, aka Mermaidelicious, phoned me at oh, approximately 5 minutes after I had made this bold, grand decision in between bites of frosted flakes, and asked if I could give her a ride to drop her car off for service, and then give her a ride later in the day to return to pick up her car.
Well, duh, of course I said, "Sure!", without a moment's thought.
So, I finished the flakes, turned off my Friends at Fox, got dressed, yada yada yada.
And then, and ONLY then did my ONE FINE DAY begin!
I got into my Funk Master Flex (aka 2008 Ford Expedition that is s.w.e.e.t., but is so decked out and funky and customized with the FMF logo, that we actually were racially profiled and pulled over in our own neighborhood) and proceeded to back out of my driveway, just like any other ONE FINE DAY.
'cept.
NOT.
No, I was not under the influence of any 'drugs'.
Yes, I was fully awake, having already consumed my coffee.
No, I wasn't in a hurry or distracted, or any crap like that.
I just seriously messed up.
Yeah.
I backed diagonally into Two Swords' pickup truck.
Crap.
Yeah, that's what I said.
Deep breath.
So.
I got out of the car to assess the damage.
AMAZINGLY, it was not catastrophic. Since when does THAT happen in my life? That when 'shit happens', it's NOT catastrophic?
I know, RIGHT?
My rear right tailight needs to be replaced.
Okay, I thought. Not so bad.
And a couple of very minor cosmetic scratches for which we already have the black paint because the Funk Master Flex which is now an entirely most awesome black Expedition was once....ROJO. Again, it was a bargain, and we didn't know it was a customized rapper car!
Moved onto Two Swords nearly ancient, but most certainly dearly loved pickup truck.
The one that I was 'forced' (although I can't even confirm this myself, because I can't remember why I was 'forced', it was so darn long ago, I think I only had one kid) to drive his monstrous pickup truck to my workjob one day, into the scary parking garage, of which on the way OUT, I hit not just ONE yellow concrete ballard on the left side, but ANOTHER yellow concrete ballard on the right side, and bawled all the way home (and we all know what I weeper I can be) about how horribly I felt regarding the maiming of his dearly beloved West Virginia Mountaineer-Blue colored Chevy Silverado with the towing package. The only glimmer of hope I remember from that day was that both sides now had yellow, ahem, 'racing' stripes, so he truly had a WVU truck. Sigh.
But I digress.
That was many, many moons and a whole kid ago. His beloved truck is still his beloved truck, but it's not as purty as it was the day I customized it with the yellow stripes.
Anyhoo.
I found where I hit it, TODAY.
And now, underneath some white 'stripes' where he, on some other ONE FINE DAY, hit something 'white', he now has some 'red' stripes, from my, um, 'black' car that used to be 'red'.
Funny.
Right.
So, I'm not crying this time, cuz, it's been many moons and many years, and a whole other kid since I've wrecked any vehicles and I simply phoned him and told him what happened.
I thought he was going to FREAK about his truck.
But he did NOT! He said he didn't AND I QUOTE 'give a DAMN about my truck'. He was most concerned with our 'black on red' Funk Master. He lectured me that the tailight was going to cost a fortune. I said I was sorry, that I don't usually have auto altercations, or get speeding tickets, or flip golf carts, or wreck boats, 'AHEM'. And I said I just wasn't paying attention, and I made a mistake, and again, I was sorry. I could tell by the sound of his voice he was P I S S E D.
Oh well. The damage had literally been done.
Off to Auntie Em's.
Pick her up at the auto place, and then drop her off at home, and make plans for picking her up later when her car is finished being serviced.
Get home.
Change clothes.
For some ODD reason, I felt like I needed another coffee. I don't normally drink coffee every single day, and I very rarely drink more than one. But I had the second one.
And then the phone rang.
Hello?
Mrs. Fallon?
(yeah, this is NOT going to be good, because even the bill collectors don't call me 'Mrs. Fallon')
Yes?
Hi, this is Nurse So and So from Such and Such Elementary School and I have Jake here and .......
Is he sick?
No, he's not sick, but he has a busted up eye and he'll probably have a nice shiner out of it and he had some dirt and gravel in it and I've cleaned it and bandaged it but he seems pretty miserable....
And in the background, I hear a very loud, very familiar troll of a voice say, "YOU TELL HER TO GET IN THE CAR AND COME AND GET ME R-I-G-H-T NOW!"
And then I make the mistake of asking to speak with him.
All I got out of his rambling was that he was going to have a black eye and he had to come home because it was nap time at school and the side of his face with the injury is the side of his face that he 'lays' on and it would not be AND I QUOTE 'possible' for him to nap 'comfortably' as a result of this near-fatal injury, and I needed to get in the car 'RIGHT NOW' and drive really fast to pick him up but AND I QUOTE, and yeah, this has to be the funniest part of the whole day:
"DON'T WRECK YOUR CAR OR ANYTHING OR DRIVE TOO FAST AND GET PULLED OVER BY THE PO-PO, JUST GET HERE SAFE, OKAY?"
OMG.
I have no idea how much a taillight is going to cost to fix the Flex.
My husband is irked at me.
My kid has an eye injury that I have yet to personally examine.
And I am laughing so hard, I nearly lose control of my bowels.
Don't wreck your car or anything?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I already did that today!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
So, I get into the Black/Red Flex, and do NOT strike anything upon leaving my driveway THIS TIME, and phone Two Swords to tell him that I wasn't sure if the Sparrow was going to need medical attention or not, and though he is concerned about the 'boy', he's getting tired of hearing from me TODAY. I typically don't phone him every 3.5 minutes, but then again, today was ONE FINE DAY.
I arrive at So and So Elementary School.
He is sitting right there.
"Hi Mom."
Two bandages, splayed over his right eye, like the letter 'a'.
I can see swelling, I can see raspberry, I can see the beginnings of a shiner.
I can't see any reason why he couldn't stay in school for three more hours, but oh well.
I check him out of school, and we get in the car, and I ask him for the 'story'.
And he says (very, deep, breath), "Listen. Ima gonna tell you just like when I walked into the Nurse's office and there were like eighteen kids in there and they all looked at my big bleeding eye and started to freak out, well, Ima gonna tell you the same thing I told them. DON'T ASK!"
OMG.
Laughing again.
Wrecked my car.
Wrecked my husband's car.
Kid has a busted eye.
Hysterical!
I know eventually I'll hear the whole story, ad infinitum, so I enjoy a moment of peace and don't badger him.
Then, he slaps his OTHER eye, and says, "OH CRAP!"
And I said, "What's wrong NOW?"
And he said, "I have baseball tryouts TONIGHT!"
"Yeah? And?"
"All I'm sayin' is that if anybody asked me what happened to my eye, Ima gonna tell 'em, Don't EVEN Ask Me!"
Laughing again.
A half mile later, I am informed by the One-Eyed Sparrow that he will not be able to attend school for a few WEEKS. HA!
And the laughter goes on and on, on this One Fine Day.
"Um, why can't you go to school for WEEKS?"
"Because! I don't want to have to say, "DON'T EVEN ASK ME!" all FREAKING day long, and remember, when I had my HEART ATTACK and I had to wear that HEART MACHINE to school all day and everybody was talking about it and asking me about it and.....UGH. Just please, I don't want to have to go through all THAT again, Mom. UGH."
Sigh.
Laughing.
I cannot discern which is funnier. That this kid really and truly believes he had a HEART ATTACK, or that he's talking like an 85 year old man from Brooklyn who is being very specific about how he wants his bagel with a SCHMEAR.
Sigh.
FINALLY, we arrive at Casa de Chaos.
I get 'Ole One Eye an Ice Pack and some Tylenol.
He said, "No."
And, confused, which, why should I ever be confused, since it's the Sparrow, and I should know better to be confused, because he will give me the directions and the map and the GPS through each and every story....
I say, "No, what?"
"No, I'm not taking no Tylenol."
"Ummmm, I always give you Tylenol when you are in pain or you have a fever, and it has never been a problem before, so why is it all of a sudden a problem now?"
NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER MET ME NOR THE SPARROW IN PERSON:
I swear to you, on all that is holy, that these are the exact, word for word conversations that adults have with my son. This is how he talks, and this is how we talk back. Honest, honest, honest. There is no exaggeration when it comes to the Sparrow, simply because, well, he needs NO exaggeration. He is the enigma that is Captain Jake Sparrow.
As I was saying....blah blah blah what's your problem NOW, Slappy?
"If I ever have a fever, you must, you simply MUST give me Children's ADVENT (yes, ADVENT, not ADVIL) and not Tylenol."
Seriously?
"Um, first of all, you don't have a fever, and um, where ya getting that from, Jake?"
"Cartoon Network. And they wouldn't lie Mom, cuz if they did, then you and Daddy would say it was an inappropriate channel and you wouldn't let me watch it anymore."
Seriously?
Am I debating the merits of Ibuprofen versus Acetaminophen with my thirty-eight pound six year old who gets on a skateboard on his stomach whilst said skateboard is attached to a dog by a bungee cord who is then thrown a tennis ball and said six year old rides all over hell and Georgia while the dog tows him on the board? Seriously?
Am I still talking to this six year old mutant who claims he is a redneck simply because, "I'm a strange kid, Mom, and that's what rednecks are. They're strange."
I struggled through Level Four Experimental Statistical Processes for Psychoanalytic Theories for THIS?
And I shifted into fifth gear and said, "Jake. You seem to forget that you refuse to take LIQUID medications and will only swallow pills and as far as I know (yeah, now I'm lying), Children's ADVIL is only sold in a bottle. No pills. So what's it gonna be, buddy?"
A defeated sparrow says, "Ugh. Gimme the dang pill."
He takes the dang pill.
He follows the rest of my instructions to a 'tee'.
He is resting comfortably in MY bed, with an ice pack on his eye, watching the 'new' Leave It To Beaver movie which surprisingly, co-stars the Original Eddie Haskell as the dad of Eddie Haskell. Don't know how that's relevant, but then again, do I ever have anything relevant to report?
I hop onto Ebay to see if I can locate a taillight for my Funk Master.
Woohoo!
It is indeed One Fine Day after all!
45 bucks!
Free Shipping!
So cheap it makes me want to go out and smack the other tail light!
KIDDING, Two Swords, KIDDING!
Two hours later, we leave to pick up the Genius from music lessons.
She had been told that her brother was 'sick' and that her Mom would be picking her up after practice, at 4 pm.
She gets in the car, asks me, "How is Jake S I C K? He was F I N E this morning."
And I tell Jake to look at his sister.
And Reilly the Red SCREAMS, "OMG! What happened to your EYE?"
And, to nearly finish off this ONE FINE DAY, 'Ole One Eye replies:
"DON'T EVEN ASK ME!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fast forward to now, 730 pm.
Three of the pirates are at baseball tryouts.
One Eye is going to live, AND he is going to school tomorrow.
The Genius got her report card.
Yeah.
She's beyond genius.
She's so far beyond genius, that she gets TWO report cards.
Go figure.
And I just went through her bookbag and discovered that she was named Musician of the Week.
I didn't even know there was such a thing!
AND....she is Terrific Kid again.
She was just named Terrific Kid like three weeks ago!
You usually don't get to be Terrific Kid more than once a year!
(The Sparrow still has his fingers crossed, if you know what I mean).
We picked up Auntie Em to get her car, and then we got a dozen donuts.
Because of the "Don't ASK!" Eye Injury, for which I'm still fuzzy on the details, but pretty sure it didn't involve physical violence.
Because of the Genius Musician and her Genius Report Cards.
And because Mama wrecked not one, but TWO of our vehicles today.
Because the taillight for the Flex only costs FORTY FIVE BUCKS!
And because.....
It was ONE FINE DAY.
Oh yeah.
And because I didn't have a nervous breakdown.
Even though, if I had, someone would have thought to bring me a dozen donuts.
~
After reading the title of this post, are you hearing the song in your head? Or does the George Clooney/Michelle Pfeiffer movie of one thousand years ago come to mind?
Well, today, I had myself One F-I-N-E Day.
I know, right?
It's about time, RIGHT?
You want all the gorey details, RIGHT?
Hold on, Ima gonna tell 'em to ya.
So.
Today started out pretty swell from the get go.
Today was my morning to sleep in, as Two Swords and I trade off on morning kid duty.
Two Swords came into the bedroom around 830 to let me know that he was headed off on his adventure for the day. I saw what time it was, and decided, yeah, I guess I'll get up.
I had no firm plans, really. Not until 3:30, when my daily chaos usually starts.
But I grabbed some coffee, and had a bowl of frosted flakes, and spent a few minutes with my friends at Fox and FRIENDS.
And then I decided that I had the energy and motivation and solitude to perhaps get my taxes finished today, AND get control of the always-present, never-ending, I-really-do-hate-it-as-much-as-you-do-honey, MOUNTAIN of paperwork that resides in a laundry basket and irks my husband quite possibly more than anything else that I do. No. EVERYTHING that I do irks him, but yeah, he hates the traveling paper basket.
So, anyhoo, that was my P.L.A.N.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Auntie Em, aka Mermaidelicious, phoned me at oh, approximately 5 minutes after I had made this bold, grand decision in between bites of frosted flakes, and asked if I could give her a ride to drop her car off for service, and then give her a ride later in the day to return to pick up her car.
Well, duh, of course I said, "Sure!", without a moment's thought.
So, I finished the flakes, turned off my Friends at Fox, got dressed, yada yada yada.
And then, and ONLY then did my ONE FINE DAY begin!
I got into my Funk Master Flex (aka 2008 Ford Expedition that is s.w.e.e.t., but is so decked out and funky and customized with the FMF logo
'cept.
NOT.
No, I was not under the influence of any 'drugs'.
Yes, I was fully awake, having already consumed my coffee.
No, I wasn't in a hurry or distracted, or any crap like that.
I just seriously messed up.
Yeah.
I backed diagonally into Two Swords' pickup truck.
Crap.
Yeah, that's what I said.
Deep breath.
So.
I got out of the car to assess the damage.
AMAZINGLY, it was not catastrophic. Since when does THAT happen in my life? That when 'shit happens', it's NOT catastrophic?
I know, RIGHT?
My rear right tailight needs to be replaced.
Okay, I thought. Not so bad.
And a couple of very minor cosmetic scratches for which we already have the black paint because the Funk Master Flex which is now an entirely most awesome black Expedition was once....ROJO. Again, it was a bargain, and we didn't know it was a customized rapper car!
Moved onto Two Swords nearly ancient, but most certainly dearly loved pickup truck.
The one that I was 'forced' (although I can't even confirm this myself, because I can't remember why I was 'forced', it was so darn long ago, I think I only had one kid) to drive his monstrous pickup truck to my workjob one day, into the scary parking garage, of which on the way OUT, I hit not just ONE yellow concrete ballard on the left side, but ANOTHER yellow concrete ballard on the right side, and bawled all the way home (and we all know what I weeper I can be) about how horribly I felt regarding the maiming of his dearly beloved West Virginia Mountaineer-Blue colored Chevy Silverado with the towing package. The only glimmer of hope I remember from that day was that both sides now had yellow, ahem, 'racing' stripes, so he truly had a WVU truck. Sigh.
But I digress.
That was many, many moons and a whole kid ago. His beloved truck is still his beloved truck, but it's not as purty as it was the day I customized it with the yellow stripes.
Anyhoo.
I found where I hit it, TODAY.
And now, underneath some white 'stripes' where he, on some other ONE FINE DAY, hit something 'white', he now has some 'red' stripes, from my, um, 'black' car that used to be 'red'.
Funny.
Right.
So, I'm not crying this time, cuz, it's been many moons and many years, and a whole other kid since I've wrecked any vehicles and I simply phoned him and told him what happened.
I thought he was going to FREAK about his truck.
But he did NOT! He said he didn't AND I QUOTE 'give a DAMN about my truck'. He was most concerned with our 'black on red' Funk Master. He lectured me that the tailight was going to cost a fortune. I said I was sorry, that I don't usually have auto altercations, or get speeding tickets, or flip golf carts, or wreck boats, 'AHEM'. And I said I just wasn't paying attention, and I made a mistake, and again, I was sorry. I could tell by the sound of his voice he was P I S S E D.
Oh well. The damage had literally been done.
Off to Auntie Em's.
Pick her up at the auto place, and then drop her off at home, and make plans for picking her up later when her car is finished being serviced.
Get home.
Change clothes.
For some ODD reason, I felt like I needed another coffee. I don't normally drink coffee every single day, and I very rarely drink more than one. But I had the second one.
And then the phone rang.
Hello?
Mrs. Fallon?
(yeah, this is NOT going to be good, because even the bill collectors don't call me 'Mrs. Fallon')
Yes?
Hi, this is Nurse So and So from Such and Such Elementary School and I have Jake here and .......
Is he sick?
No, he's not sick, but he has a busted up eye and he'll probably have a nice shiner out of it and he had some dirt and gravel in it and I've cleaned it and bandaged it but he seems pretty miserable....
And in the background, I hear a very loud, very familiar troll of a voice say, "YOU TELL HER TO GET IN THE CAR AND COME AND GET ME R-I-G-H-T NOW!"
And then I make the mistake of asking to speak with him.
All I got out of his rambling was that he was going to have a black eye and he had to come home because it was nap time at school and the side of his face with the injury is the side of his face that he 'lays' on and it would not be AND I QUOTE 'possible' for him to nap 'comfortably' as a result of this near-fatal injury, and I needed to get in the car 'RIGHT NOW' and drive really fast to pick him up but AND I QUOTE, and yeah, this has to be the funniest part of the whole day:
"DON'T WRECK YOUR CAR OR ANYTHING OR DRIVE TOO FAST AND GET PULLED OVER BY THE PO-PO, JUST GET HERE SAFE, OKAY?"
OMG.
I have no idea how much a taillight is going to cost to fix the Flex.
My husband is irked at me.
My kid has an eye injury that I have yet to personally examine.
And I am laughing so hard, I nearly lose control of my bowels.
Don't wreck your car or anything?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I already did that today!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
So, I get into the Black/Red Flex, and do NOT strike anything upon leaving my driveway THIS TIME, and phone Two Swords to tell him that I wasn't sure if the Sparrow was going to need medical attention or not, and though he is concerned about the 'boy', he's getting tired of hearing from me TODAY. I typically don't phone him every 3.5 minutes, but then again, today was ONE FINE DAY.
I arrive at So and So Elementary School.
He is sitting right there.
"Hi Mom."
Two bandages, splayed over his right eye, like the letter 'a'.
I can see swelling, I can see raspberry, I can see the beginnings of a shiner.
I can't see any reason why he couldn't stay in school for three more hours, but oh well.
I check him out of school, and we get in the car, and I ask him for the 'story'.
And he says (very, deep, breath), "Listen. Ima gonna tell you just like when I walked into the Nurse's office and there were like eighteen kids in there and they all looked at my big bleeding eye and started to freak out, well, Ima gonna tell you the same thing I told them. DON'T ASK!"
OMG.
Laughing again.
Wrecked my car.
Wrecked my husband's car.
Kid has a busted eye.
Hysterical!
I know eventually I'll hear the whole story, ad infinitum, so I enjoy a moment of peace and don't badger him.
Then, he slaps his OTHER eye, and says, "OH CRAP!"
And I said, "What's wrong NOW?"
And he said, "I have baseball tryouts TONIGHT!"
"Yeah? And?"
"All I'm sayin' is that if anybody asked me what happened to my eye, Ima gonna tell 'em, Don't EVEN Ask Me!"
Laughing again.
A half mile later, I am informed by the One-Eyed Sparrow that he will not be able to attend school for a few WEEKS. HA!
And the laughter goes on and on, on this One Fine Day.
"Um, why can't you go to school for WEEKS?"
"Because! I don't want to have to say, "DON'T EVEN ASK ME!" all FREAKING day long, and remember, when I had my HEART ATTACK and I had to wear that HEART MACHINE to school all day and everybody was talking about it and asking me about it and.....UGH. Just please, I don't want to have to go through all THAT again, Mom. UGH."
Sigh.
Laughing.
I cannot discern which is funnier. That this kid really and truly believes he had a HEART ATTACK, or that he's talking like an 85 year old man from Brooklyn who is being very specific about how he wants his bagel with a SCHMEAR.
Sigh.
FINALLY, we arrive at Casa de Chaos.
I get 'Ole One Eye an Ice Pack and some Tylenol.
He said, "No."
And, confused, which, why should I ever be confused, since it's the Sparrow, and I should know better to be confused, because he will give me the directions and the map and the GPS through each and every story....
I say, "No, what?"
"No, I'm not taking no Tylenol."
"Ummmm, I always give you Tylenol when you are in pain or you have a fever, and it has never been a problem before, so why is it all of a sudden a problem now?"
NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER MET ME NOR THE SPARROW IN PERSON:
I swear to you, on all that is holy, that these are the exact, word for word conversations that adults have with my son. This is how he talks, and this is how we talk back. Honest, honest, honest. There is no exaggeration when it comes to the Sparrow, simply because, well, he needs NO exaggeration. He is the enigma that is Captain Jake Sparrow.
As I was saying....blah blah blah what's your problem NOW, Slappy?
"If I ever have a fever, you must, you simply MUST give me Children's ADVENT (yes, ADVENT, not ADVIL) and not Tylenol."
Seriously?
"Um, first of all, you don't have a fever, and um, where ya getting that from, Jake?"
"Cartoon Network. And they wouldn't lie Mom, cuz if they did, then you and Daddy would say it was an inappropriate channel and you wouldn't let me watch it anymore."
Seriously?
Am I debating the merits of Ibuprofen versus Acetaminophen with my thirty-eight pound six year old who gets on a skateboard on his stomach whilst said skateboard is attached to a dog by a bungee cord who is then thrown a tennis ball and said six year old rides all over hell and Georgia while the dog tows him on the board? Seriously?
Am I still talking to this six year old mutant who claims he is a redneck simply because, "I'm a strange kid, Mom, and that's what rednecks are. They're strange."
I struggled through Level Four Experimental Statistical Processes for Psychoanalytic Theories for THIS?
And I shifted into fifth gear and said, "Jake. You seem to forget that you refuse to take LIQUID medications and will only swallow pills and as far as I know (yeah, now I'm lying), Children's ADVIL is only sold in a bottle. No pills. So what's it gonna be, buddy?"
A defeated sparrow says, "Ugh. Gimme the dang pill."
He takes the dang pill.
He follows the rest of my instructions to a 'tee'.
He is resting comfortably in MY bed, with an ice pack on his eye, watching the 'new' Leave It To Beaver movie which surprisingly, co-stars the Original Eddie Haskell as the dad of Eddie Haskell. Don't know how that's relevant, but then again, do I ever have anything relevant to report?
I hop onto Ebay to see if I can locate a taillight for my Funk Master.
Woohoo!
It is indeed One Fine Day after all!
45 bucks!
Free Shipping!
So cheap it makes me want to go out and smack the other tail light!
KIDDING, Two Swords, KIDDING!
Two hours later, we leave to pick up the Genius from music lessons.
She had been told that her brother was 'sick' and that her Mom would be picking her up after practice, at 4 pm.
She gets in the car, asks me, "How is Jake S I C K? He was F I N E this morning."
And I tell Jake to look at his sister.
And Reilly the Red SCREAMS, "OMG! What happened to your EYE?"
And, to nearly finish off this ONE FINE DAY, 'Ole One Eye replies:
"DON'T EVEN ASK ME!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fast forward to now, 730 pm.
Three of the pirates are at baseball tryouts.
One Eye is going to live, AND he is going to school tomorrow.
The Genius got her report card.
Yeah.
She's beyond genius.
She's so far beyond genius, that she gets TWO report cards.
Go figure.
And I just went through her bookbag and discovered that she was named Musician of the Week.
I didn't even know there was such a thing!
AND....she is Terrific Kid again.
She was just named Terrific Kid like three weeks ago!
You usually don't get to be Terrific Kid more than once a year!
(The Sparrow still has his fingers crossed, if you know what I mean).
We picked up Auntie Em to get her car, and then we got a dozen donuts.
Because of the "Don't ASK!" Eye Injury, for which I'm still fuzzy on the details, but pretty sure it didn't involve physical violence.
Because of the Genius Musician and her Genius Report Cards.
And because Mama wrecked not one, but TWO of our vehicles today.
Because the taillight for the Flex only costs FORTY FIVE BUCKS!
And because.....
It was ONE FINE DAY.
Oh yeah.
And because I didn't have a nervous breakdown.
Even though, if I had, someone would have thought to bring me a dozen donuts.
~
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