One week to go...just one week to go...

...and the children will be sassing their teachers and not me. There is hope for me yet.

I love those children with all that is in me, but if I have to make the declarations, "Your 'tude SUCKS young lady and I'm about to get my 'tude wrench out and fix it!" and "Son, I don't care that you really and truly think your sister is ugly, you MAY NOT tell her she is!" then I swear I will end up hurting someone. Most likely an innocent bystander who is unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire.

I also cannot be responsible for my actions if I hear any of the following again between now and next Friday:
"Don't know, don't care."
"I hate you, Bubby!"
"Mom loves me best."
"You're a tard."
"Mommmmmmmmmmmmm! She's looking at me!" (or hitting, breathing, thinking about looking, hitting or breathing, etc.)
"You're the meanest mom ever."
"It's not fair!"
"Why?"
"This sucks."
"I hate you, Sissy!"
"I'm bored."

I've really enjoyed the summer with them, but this last week and a half have been pure unadulterated hell on earth, not altogether unlike an untreated case of the clap or having your nipples caught in a cheese grater.

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Now, enough of that unpleasantness.

I got my hair cut today. Even shorter than last time. I'll take a picture. Maybe later. I'm on a roll with the typing and a storm is coming in and I need to finish up so I can shut down, unplug and then run out into the yard to watch for a twister.

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We witnessed a hit and run act of vandalism. Well, accidental vandalism, but still the guy didn't 'fess up and ran. So we called the police. Heh heh. Yeah, we're nerds. But the kids liked seeing the cop pull in.

Sis, the kids and I were sitting at the Sonic eating grilled chicken sandwiches and drinking Diet Coke because this is what my diet largely consists of these days if I eat outside my home, when a cemi cab and chassis pulled in to the little gas station next door. Speed A Way is the only gas station around here that I know of that will still pump your gas for you. And they employ the most darlingest little guys in the world and I am so sad that it's closed right now. So this bozo in the truck only pulled in to turn around rather than do a U-turn, but tard (Hmm...wonder where the kids learned that...) didn't check his clearance and when he pulled under the awning thing over the gas pumps he scraped and broke a light fixture. Glass rained down all over the place and we all sat there cringing because we knew he was going to do it as soon as he started pulling under there. But, instead of getting out of his truck to find someone to tell or at least leave a freakin' note, he looks out his window, sees the glass lying all over the place and then pulls out into traffic like nothing happened. Jerk. We really wanted to take off the way he headed to see if we could see him pulled over somewhere because we're mean like that, but eh, we were still eating our grilled chicken and instead we just sat there and listened to the kids sing "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?"

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As I've mentioned many times before in the blatant way I brag about free cheese, I am Native American. Or Indian, as we un-PC folks say. This entitles my children to free school supplies. This is a very good thing. School supplies aren't cheap, as any parent knows. So today we went on a mission to get free school supplies from the Eastern Shawnee tribe since our tribe only has about five casinos and is obviously not making enough money to give their children school supplies.

Well, on the way out there Sis had a talk with her kids, telling them that even though Mimi (their other gramma) said she got them school supplies, Mimi was politely told to take them back because the indians give us school supplies and free is always better. And we will gratefully thank the nice people that aren't even from our tribe for the generousity that they have bestowed upon us and all will be right with the world. The kids agreed to this and all of the school kids said they would be thankful.

We got in there, handed over our indian cards, birth certificates, enrollment statements, utility bills and I even offered them one of the children as well, but they declined. Then the benevolent school supply indian ladies began boxing up supplies for each child. Abby was first. She got everything on her list except for a backpack and two boxes of tissues. I was happy and she already has a backpack anyway. Next was Sam who go also got everything except for the backpack and tissues, and even though he still needs a backpack, I was still thankful for the shitload of crayons and glue he was handed.

Next in line was TotOne, but just as she was stepping up to the table to receive of the school supply offering she suddenly burst into tears and promptly sat down on the floor, crossed her arms and legs and proceded to throw herself one hell of a fit. For what reason? She wanted Mimi's school supplies. I felt so sorry for Tater I could've cried. Well, I could've cried after I quit laughing. Because every parent has had their child throw a very inconvenient fit and quite generally make you pray for death by alien laser ray or even death by rabid chipmunks that have been doused in gasoline and set on fire. We've all been there and no, it's no fun when it's happening, but those of us who have already experienced it, know that you will survive and figure we might as well get a chuckle at your misery.

FINALLY after Tater threatened to sell her to the gypsies, yank her bald-headed, beat her till candy came out and any other threat that came to mind, TotOne relented and accepted the supplies. Thanks to the kind lady with the bag of goodies and a Sharpie marker who offered to personalize the bag for her. Then everyone said thank you (Well, Sam said danke schon) and we got the heck out of dodge before the people from the Child Welfare office across the hall were summoned. Oh but you can bet that as soon as we were clear of the building and out of sight from the Child Welfare folks that that child got the spanking of her life. And I still had to giggle. Not that she was getting spanked, but they were grateful giggles that for once it wasn't MY child doing the throwing of the fit.

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The Eastern Shawnee offices are directly behind the Eastern Shawnee Travel Plaza which houses, you guessed it, a casino AND convenience store AND cafe (Yes, almost like the Turtle, but not as fancy). Well, as I was coming out from behind the casino/cafe/convenience store ON THE SPECIFIED DRIVING AREA TO EXIT THE PREMISES, some old chick who was either disgruntled that she'd lost money or ecstatic that she'd won money, nearly t-boned me! I had the right of way, since she was pulling out of the parking lot and wasn't on the SPECIFIED DRIVING AREA yet. So after I decided she wasn't going to hit me I went ahead and pulled up to the highway. She of course, pulled out behind me on the specified driving area and frankly, it wasn't that big of an issue. But just as I pulled out onto the highway she flipped me off! I didn't see it but Heather just busted out with this BWAH!! and I said, "What?" She goes, "That old lady just flipped you off!!" Man, if I'd seen that the gestures I'd have thrown back. I haven't flipped someone off in such a long time. I bet it would've felt pretty good. Even if she was old. I mean, if you're gonna throw 'em, expect to get them thrown back, right?

So the rest of the day of the day Abby had to tell everyone we saw, "Hey, my mom got flipped off today." I think she was proud. My mom worries so much about my children.