Mr. Diva and I finally cleaned out the pool last night. But only after I threatened to lose my ever-lovin' mind. We were sitting at the table enjoying our fabulous, out of season turkey dinner and the children were just talking and talking and talking and I looked at Mr. Diva, placed my hand lovingly on his arm and said, "I have been cooped up in this house with your offspring for over a week now. It's too hot for them to play outside. The pool is disgusting. We have done every craft I know how to do. The children are dabbling in nuclear physics out of sheer boredom. If I don't get out of this house tomorrow, someone will surely die." He only halfway grinned before he realized that I was dead freakin' serious. He shoved a huge bite in his mouth and mumbled around the food, "I'll clean out the pool as soon as I'm done eating, dear. And would you like to work out tomorrow night? Ooh and isn't tomorrow night Ladies' Night, too? Why don't you go and I'll just take care of the kids." I don't think he necessarily wanted a night with the kids, but I think he feared for their safety if I didn't get a break.
So after dinner the five of us cleaned out the pool and refilled it. While I, in an obsessive/compulsive frenzy, spent 45 minutes working the wrinkles out of the floor, the husband and children sprayed each other and me with the hose. However, I didn't cackle with delight like they did when they got sprayed. When I was exhausted and had broken three nails from pulling the liner into submission, I found a lawnchair and sat down to watch the circus. Suddenly I heard quacking. Lots and lots of quacking. And then the flapping of wings.
The old momma cat had the duck!! The poor duck was flapping her heart out, trying to get away and was doing a pretty good job, until she went too low in anticipation of the surface of the water and the cat got her by the tail feathers. I yelled, "THE CAT'S GOT THE DUCK!!!" and the chase was on. The kids took off toward the pond, running, screaming and squalling. Mr. Diva took off running as well, but only got a few feet before his soaking wet jean shorts started falling down, so the run to the pool was more like a hitch with a hop and a hobble. I was doubled over laughing at my family running to this poor duck's rescue. Fortunately they reached the pair and he beat the cat off the duck and all was well. But my goodness, I got an ab workout last night from laughing at the scene.
So today, the kids and I decided to swim in our crystal clear pool. But alas, the water was too cold for me, so I sat in a lawnchair and watched them. We were only outside 20 minutes before they were all fighting and calling names and my threats to dunk them till they bubbled stopped working so I made everyone get out. 20 minutes outside and my chest is now glowing red. 20 minutes and I have a very crispy lady-bug. 20 minutes and I now feel like I'm a walking volcano. Of course, did my legs get any sun? My legs were out there just as much as my chest was, but they are still pearly freakin' white. Figures.
I am supposed to leave to work out in 9 minutes.
My husband is still not home.
Remember what I said over the weekend about chaining the children to the treadmill in order to get a workout in? That may take place if he doesn't get here soon. I have to get out of here because the donuts - they are calling still. The kids ate donuts for snack this afternoon. I told them they could have them after dinner, too. Breakfast? You betcha kids. They'll all end up in diabetic comas, but at least the demon donuts will be gone and will quit taunting me with their sugary goodness.
5 comments:
"There's no duck in the oven, dear Diva, dear Diva." Did I get that song started in your head again? Our cats are murderers, too. We don't have a duck. Their favorites are these baby mole- looking things that are like mice but with different noses.
Our pool got a slimy bottom because HH can't be bothered to put the freaking cover on it. He poured in some algicide, and woohoo, no more slime. We leave the wrinkles because we're lazy, and because it takes a week for the well water to warm up enough for swimming.
I'm glad the duck survived, duck tastes nasty anyway.
I'm a white girl too. Anytime I'm in the sun I burn to oblivion. I don't know why I bother. I was out for an hour and 15 minutes or so watching the 4th of July parade in Cody, WY and I'm still peeling!!
So, where do you workout?
HillbillyMom-Thanks for getting that song goin' again. I woke up with it gone, but hmh, now it's back. You're a jewel. LOL
This old momma cat of ours is one heck of a huntress, but we'd rather she just leave the duck alone. That poor duck is a survivor, outwitting the hawks and foxes - I'd hate to think her demise was a domesticated cat.
April-I agree with you on the taste of duck! NAS-TEE. My uncle fixed it one year for Thanksgiving. We went to McDonald's when we left their house.
Why is it my children can tan like little indians, yet I burn to a crisp in minutes? Heck, their father is a freakin' REDHEAD and he can even tan! It's so not fair.
Duck, prepared the correct way, is not NASTY! Thank you very much! As the wife of a hunter who found my "duck stash" in the back pasture, I've learned to fix it. I used to throw it over the back pasture fence after he put it in the freezer. Apparently, the local coyotes thought it was a Daffy Buffet and kept us up all one night. I was found out! Try making jerky or cutting it into small strips and frying it like steak fingers. Lots of gravy, of course to cover the ducky taste.
Gravy makes everything better, doesn't it?
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