Hey, look!

So I feel like I need to post once a week or my adoring public will start to get upset and ditch me for other more interesting options. (Do you like how I assume that I have a "public", that it "adores" me and that I am even remotely "interesting" much less interesting enough to keep said "public" from pursuing other "options?" How presumptuous of me. But that's how I roll. Presumptuously.)

As you can probably tell by that first sentence I have nothing to say. As you have read my blog in the past (see, a presupposition) you know that having nothing to say never stops me from writing down a bunch of words. (Don't fear, I will not go down that mis-guided road of including zombies.)

The monsters (AKA - my kids) have the whole week off. That really screws with my schedule of drinking coffee, 45 minute showers, watching Ellen and napping mid-morning, but I have risen to the occasion. Monday, F had a Star Wars themed art class for most of the day so E and I hung around the house. E decided to have a birthday party for the dog so she insisted on having a cake. I am a terrible baker. A and I compromised. She would make the cake and I would frost it. Whew, Monday complete with little drama.

Tuesday, E had a pie making class with her little cousin. F is taking a squash class at the fitness club, but he can't hit a damn thing so I took him to hit balls for an hour. By the end he was doing much better. E had the neighbor kids over for the dog's birthday. They trashed the house. But the cake turned out pretty good.



When A got home from work I volunteered to go grocery shopping to get away from the disaster area that our home had become.

When I got the store it was a virtual Cougar den. I wish I could have taken a picture of this one woman in particular. I just couldn't get a good shot, so I will paint a "word picture" for you. Late 50's early 60's (I am a horrible judge of age so imagine a 25 year old) Too tight black jeans with rhinestone fleur-de-lis on the back pockets. Sateen jacket with rhinestones unzipped to reveal a too low-cut shirt with her unnaturally tan, liver-spotted, fake ta-tas on display. Make up applied by trowel and platinum white hair. She was trying WAY too hard. It was a fun spectacle to watch.

After dinner A notified me that she was too tired to take E to basketball practice and asked if I would be willing to. I said no I would not be willing to, but that I would do it anyway. When I got there the coach informed me that A had volunteered to be an assistant-coach-type-person and that since A wasn't there I would get to fill in. I immediately got on the phone to bitch my wife out for setting me up to embarrass myself in front of a group of 4th grade girls. (I bitched her out jokingly. At least it was jokingly to her as she was laughing on the other end.) This is something that you should know about me - I suck at ball-sports. Baseball, football, golf, tennis, volleyball, ping pong, team handball, jai alai but especially basketball. I was just an embarrassment. I even caught one of the other dads looking at me like he might think I am retarded, sorry, I mean "other abled."

On a happy note - A informed me that many of the vacuous and obnoxious women on The Real Housewives of Orange County are broke and having their homes foreclosed on. Karma is a bitch!

Tomorrow is a big day for us. We have been hosting Thanksgiving since we were first married and in an apartment. Back then we ate in courses mostly because we completely mis-timed the preparation for every dish by at least a half hour. There were stern words exchanged, fingers pointed and "the silent treatment" after the guests left. This year everything should be done around the same time. Again, stern words will be exchanged along with finger pointing and the post guest "silent treatment." Don't you just love traditions? I know I do.