THERE'S JUST NO PLEASING ME

I have to say... my new work schedule isn't very family friendly.  I start too early in the day to do anything before work. I don't have enough time to cook supper before I leave so the family has been eating bachelor food for the past week. I get off too late to do anything after work. I work straight through the weekend. I have no social life.
 
On the plus side I actually get to say good-night the kids as I walk in the house and pass them on their way to bed.  You'd think that the current situation with it's time constraints would get me off the hook for fight mediations and general nagging.

Nope, that's what text messaging cell phones are for!

Shhhh...

Did you hear that?

That was the sound of me snapping out of it.

I giggled yesterday.  I actually 'giggled'.  Girls giggle, not 49 year old grandmothers.  But I giggled, and it felt good, and I didn't care who heard or saw me giggle because it felt that good.  It was as if I had opened up a box stashed away in the corners of my memories and found a long forgotten treasure.  I lifted it up, shook it out and tried it on, and it still fit!  I looked in the mirror and I saw it...

A smile that reached my eyes.

Silly girl!  Hehehehe!

No, I'm not drunk.  I'm alive!

Lessons learned

I sneaked into my old room last night after the game, shooting Dickidoo a message warning him of my presence so he wouldn't think I was some intruder who had hidden in his bed while he was at the game. 

'Possession is 9/10th of the law,' I texted as I burrowed deep into the fluffy softness that I once took for granted.  Despite the disappointment of my team losing to his team, sleep came easy.  I was awakened some time later by his voice.

'Does this mean I have to sleep on the couch?'

'No, but you can if you want to.' I replied.  I waited for the goading, the heckling and harrassment that I certainly would have dished out had the Broncos won... but he merely commented on the good game, fussed about parking and was snoring within minutes.  Just like the old days, I thought before my snoring joined in the chorus.  Dang, I miss that bed.

I'm looking at life differently now days.  It's not so complicated any more.  Happiness is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Ecstasy is two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  Friends and family think I need a guy in my life to be happy.  Why?  I've got a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of Skippy and some blackberry jam.  I'm good!

The moral of this story is:  Enjoy life's simple pleasures, don't take anything (especially your mattress) for granted, and NEVER let me babysit your mascot when your team is playing my team and you go to the game without me!

Disclaimer: Gno gnomes were harmed during the making of this or the previous post.

Jealous, who, me?

Dickidoo's friend gave him a ticket for tonight's game~ Broncos vs. Steelers at Invesco Field in Denver. 

'Sorry, I wish there was another ticket for you.' he said. 

(Yeah, right, I'll bet you do!)

But he didn't call to brag.  He called to ask me to pick the ticket up for him.

Say what?

Yeah, okay, I can do that.  And I can even babysit Pittsburgh Pete, the Garden Gnome for you while you're at the game. Don't worry, he'll be safe with me!  I'll take good care of him!

RESURRECTION

resurrection: (n) 1.The act of rising from the dead or returning to life.
2.The state of one who has returned to life.

I had a nasty bug this weekend.  No, it wasn't H1N1 or the Swine flu. No fever was involved, and no coughing or head aches.  Just gosh awful cramping, nausea and a whole lot of running to the bathroom.

Art:  Hey mom, what's the past tense for 'When Pigs Fly'?
Me:  I haven't a clue.
Art:  Swine flu....  Pigs fly, swine flew... get it?
Me:  Grrrrrrrrr!

We ran out of Immodium AD (wonderful little pill, works wonders and so easy to swallow because it's so tiny!) so I started popping Peptol Bismol caplets.  By the end of my illness I had taken so many of those pink pills that I half expected to be ... well, you know... doing it in pink!

'Actually the ingredients in Peptol Bismol would turn it white,' Rocky's adorable Cello Playing Boyfriend informed me.  Simply adorable.  See why he fits in so well with our family?

The house is a mess.  Dickidoo has been gone all week so I can't blame it on him.  The Oompas are all teenagers and insist that they clean up their own mess (when did they start doing that? It must be a new thing), and I've been way too sick to do anything let alone wreck the entire house.  I guess that leaves the pets.

I know for a fact that the shit-hound unstuffed the sofa cushion and that the cat helped to distribute the stuffing through out the house.  There is evidence of trash can raids in the kitchen, bathroom and all remaining corners of the upper level.  The goldfish glare accusingly every time the cat and dog enter the foyer where the tank sits.  Henry the homicidal goldfish waits, his little goldfish cheeks fully loaded with stinky tank water, poised to shoot if the cat even so much as thinks about jumping on the aquarium to knock down the fish food for the dog to chew open.  The stairs leading to the lower level of the house still bear proof of the last such conspiracy.

Yes, it is quite possible that the cat and dog actually did trash the house without help from the Oompas.  It probably took them just a few minutes to do so.  It will probably take me all afternoon to clean it up. (Art, a little help here? I think you owe me after that swine flew joke.)

And I wanted a cat and a dog... why?

Note to self:  next time I decide to get a stomach bug and die for a few days, send the critters to a kennel.  This is just crazy!

But other than that, I feel mah-valous!