No rest for the wicked, weary and just plain weird

Last night was Brownies - 6 Brownies, 1 Mini-Brownie and three little boys. The little boys got ten kinds of pissed off that they couldn't paint butterflies, too. My husband and brother in law would've killed me. After we painted, we fingerprinted the girls. One of the local banks was giving out fingerprint/ID sheets at the fair so I got enough for my Troop. Ever tried to fingerprint seven little girls who are hopped up on blue Kool-Ade? We kept saying "Noodle arms, girls! Just relax and let us do the work!" They'd just giggle and say "I (heeheehee) CAN'T! (heeheehee) IT TICKLES!! (heeheehee)" I wanted to get all Jailer on 'em and do it the way it gets done in Booking, but we'll be taking a field trip to the police station this year and I really don't want them to run from the place screaming or anything.

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Last night was the first PTC meeting at the school. (Why the had to give it a jacked-up name like PTC I'll never know. Everyone else is happy with PTA and PTO. We just had to be different, I guess.) I didn't go to the meeting. Brownies had just let out, Mr. Diva was griping that he was hungry, I had one kid who still had homework to do and there were still three extra kids in my house waiting for Grammy to pick them up. So Sis, who is in charge of the carnival, went alone. She wasn't happy with me, but hey, two of those kids left at my house were hers, so she didn't have much choice.

Two years ago we had a school carnival and I, being the guru of all things related to concessions, was in charge of the concession stand. I did such a damn good job (I have extensive experience actually) that I am in charge of it again this year. Two years ago it was Sam's class who sponsored it. This year it'll be Ab's class. Then in two years again I'll do it for KD's class and then I will retire from my position as Concession Stand Bitch. Forever. Don't ask me again because I will just tell you no and then I'll bus' a cap in your ass.

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I made Hamburger Helper for dinner last night. When Mr. Diva and I were first married we ate a LOT of Hamburger Helper. I mean, really a lot. We got a quarter of a beef every year and we were really broke and Hamburger Helper was really cheap. As we got older and started having children who required actual nutrition and stuff, we quit eating Hamburger Helper. Well, now our children are so picky that they rotate between popcorn chicken, PB&J, mac and cheese, pizza and grilled cheese and well, Hamburger Helper is cheap and easy and he and I have started eating it again. Oh, Mr. Diva isn't very pleased about this new development, but he is also smarter than I give him credit for sometimes because he has started to comment about it three times and has actually stopped himself. I don't fix it every night by any means, but considering that there hasn't ever been a box of Hamburger Helper in this house - and we have lived here four and a half years - and in the last week and a half we have eaten Hamburger Helper twice, well, that must seem like a lot. I can't wait till the weather cools off and I can put on a pot of stew or chili or beans in the morning. Then maybe the reign of the Helper will end for awhile.

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Cute Big Baby just ate a crayon. A blue one. He has been sitting here in my office floor playing and he's been all happy and laughing and bein' all silly. Then I heard him kind of cough then laugh. I looked down to see blue all around his mouth and half of an Olive Garden crayon in his hand. That oughta make for an interesting diaper this weekend. He must've had it hidden in his diaper and was just saving it for a snack because I SWEAR that thing was not in my office floor when I sat him down.

I'll never forget the time I changed Abby's diaper - she was about 8 months old or so - and found a hard shelled bug. I was a first-time mommy and nearly had a heartattack. The other day Cute Baby ate a pill bug. I just told his mom he'd had an extra helping of protein that day. Funny how mellow I am these days.

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Tomorrow Sis, Abby and I are going with Papa to Edmond to his school reunion. He went to a one-room schoolhouse for the better part of his education. Mom went with him and Uncle Homer up until last year. She had an auction and couldn't make it, so Papa asked Heather and I if we wanted to go. (I wrote about the adventure in my old blog, btw.) We really did have a good time and told them we'd go again with them every year.

Well, Uncle Homer passed away this year. We weren't sure if Papa would want to go without him. And Papa wasn't sure either. But when he got the letter and it said that this would probably be the last reunion, he was bound and determined to go. It's sad really. But everyone who attended the school has either passed away or they're all in their 80's and 90's now. And few live in Edmond. It's just long of a drive for most.

I asked Papa is Abby could go. He was tickled to pieces. She's not quite 9, but I want her to see the pictures and people, hear the stories and more than anything spend the day with her Papa. Sis and I only went one year with Uncle Homer but it's going to be so strange to go without him this year. Getting a barrel of chicken just won't be the same.

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Mom offered to watch the kids for Mr. Diva and I either tonight or tomorrow night. Well, since Papa likes to leave for Edmond somewhere in the vicinity of 5freakin30am, we opted for Saturday night. Of course, we are very very short on funds this week, so I think our night without the kids will consist of a trip to Wal*Mart, a burger at the Sonic and a PPV movie. What a way to wrap up a week. Or I could save us even more money by just whipping up a skillet of Hamburger Helper. Hmmm....

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Tonight I'm doing my time at the Girl Scout signups in town. Everyone took a night and I'm doing my part, but man, am I ever not looking forward to it. Something about sitting in the lawn of a church in a lawnchair with my three kids just isn't all that appealing to me. They are gonna whiiiiiiiiiiine I just know it. I might, too.