And the Parade goes on….

** I started a second scrap blanket with some Lion Brand Homespun leftovers. I was going to give it to a student, but that time came and went, and so it was a blanket without a home. The Cave Troll was sitting on my lap yesterday as I finished it (with some yarn I can’t identify, but I’m pretty sure Tinkingbell would call it ‘Dead Muppet: Colorway Grover’) and I said, “What do you think, sweetie, should I keep this blanket or give it away?”

“Give it away!” He said gleefully, and I smiled. Project Linus, I was thinking, here we come!

“Who should we give it away *to*?” I asked, trying to lead him to the whole ‘charity’ idea.


*sigh* And so we have our 5 billionth crocheted blankie. It’s his very favorite ever. He especially likes Dead Grover.

**I picked Big T up from karate yesterday, and he asked me for a razor again. It’s time–he’s starting to sport a Shaggy Special (from Scooby Doo) and I said yes, and then proceeded to mortify him by driving to MacDonalds for the second time that day for a diet coke. (Something about that soda/syrup ratio…mmmmmmmm…..)

He was totally embarrassed–he was hoping the same girl wasn’t there this time who had waited on us when I was taking the big kids to their orthodontist appointment earlier, and me, being his mother proceeded to give him a ration of shit.

“Would you like me to find a more socially acceptable addiction?” I razzed, “Should I start freebasing cocaine or injecting heroin into my eyeballs?”

Of course, by this time, we were even with the girl in the cashiers window, and that last phrase needed some explaining, and when I was done, she nodded sagely. (She was probably twenty.)

“Well, yeah,” she said, “Just wait until the wedding.”

I looked at her oddly because it seemed like such a non-sequiter. We were halfway home when it gobsmacked me that she thought Big T was my BOYFRIEND. I pointed this out to him, and when we were done chortling away the biggest attack of the oogies EVER, I said, “Well, kiddo, it’s probably the beard.”

**Me and McDonalds cashiers, right?

About a week ago I was the one who left the CASHIER in tears laughing–but it’s his own damned fault. He was trying to push their new iced coffees on me, and I wasn’t buying. Coffee and milk does something unfortunate to my innards–it’s certainly not worth the taste. So I was being discreet, right? But the car at the first window was having a problem, and this guy was bored, and so he was relentless…and very charming, I might add, for a bored teenager. So after hinting delicately at intestinal problems (is that delicate? I didn’t think so at the time!) and ‘tummy troubles’ I finally said, “Dude, one of those things and I’d be on the pot all day–I’m pushing my luck with the diet coke as it is!”

And then the cars in front of me moved, so I never did see if he picked himself up from leaning weakly against the back wall, holding his stomach and laughing like a loon.

**I actually made it to the gym yesterday–and brought the short people. I can’t do this too often–the price for them went up, which is too bad, because that hour after swimming laps, when we’re all in the pool was sort of nice. Of course, Ladybug thought so–her brother got her one of the flat kick board things that they have and she pointed to it and said, “Sit”. So basically, our Lady of Bug got to be pushed around on a water sedan chair for 45 minutes, until I said, “You know, I had an aerobics class and some laps…I’m DONE!”

In the mean time, the Cave Troll sat on the steps and played around the chrome pole that you lean on when you’re getting into the pool and told me that he was swimming. (I’m SWIMMING, mom, I’m SWIMMING!) He freaks out if you try anything more challenging with him–I dread swimming lessons, if we ever get them. I think he’ll probably have to just bob around, experimenting with his body in the water until he figures it out by himself. (With mom or dad VERY close by, of course.)

Anyway, I’m going to try to catch a class on my own, and leave these guys home with the big kids for an hour–I feel REALLY bad about it, but my feet, DUDES–they feel so much better after on class, and if I could get into some shape, I’m thinking they might not be so quick to betray me to the pain gods, you feel me?

**Chicken gets her braces off before Australia. I don’t really have a funny story for this, but I’m soooooooooo very happy for her. Yay Chicken!!!

**and I think I’ve lost my glasses–my spiffing new ones. I’m stopping at Wal-Mart to see if they got left there with my sunglass case, because it was the last place I remember having them, but after that, I’m at a complete loss. *sigh* Well, at least the ones held together with the paperclip are still good. I was getting spoiled anyway–the new ones fit SOOOOO sweetly… well, everybody cross my fingers for Wal Mart, yes?

Good days, everybody!

0 thoughts on “And the Parade goes on….”

  1. gemma says:

    Chicken is coming to australia???

  2. I still think you need to change Chicken’s name to Swan.

  3. Galad says:

    Hope you found your glasses at Walmart. It’s always the new ones you lose, not the ones with a crack in the lens.

  4. roxie says:

    Lost the new glasses? Darn, I hate it when I do that! I sometimes find them months later, under the car seat or inside the chair, bent out of shape and scratched just a litte.

    You were so discreet with that nice young cashier. I would have told him that coffee makes me shit my brains out. You said the same thing just as accurately, without using indelicate language.

    Heroin in the eyeballs?

    Big T is shaving?

    Yayyyy Chicken! Flash those pearly whites! And remember, flip-flops are not designed for walking. Take shoes you can really hike around in.

  5. Louiz says:

    Hope you found your glasses. About the swimming, my sister and I learned to swim in Bahrain, where the sea is very warm. Then came back home to the UK and the swimming pools were *freezing* and we promptly said we couldn’t swim! It took about two years before we managed to get into a swimming pool again.

  6. TinkingBell says:

    And is chicken coming to Tasmania too?

    Sympathies over the glasses – hope they were there!
    Oh and I joined a women’s gym on Friday – I start tomorrow and haven’t told Mate – I’m hoping I can lose 10 pounds – and then tell him! (and then lose the other 50!)

    Love the Dead Grover – I can just picture it in my brain – snarfle!

  7. Donna Lee says:

    I would have trouble with Dead Grover. He is my all time favorite mupper. Something about his sweet simplicity. And the mickey d’s cashier got what he deserved. You were much too delicate.

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