Saturday evening Mom and I worked the gate at the All-Star 8-man football game. It was hot. Beyond hot. I had sweat in places that I'm not entirely sure it was legal to sweat. Afterwards we went to Buffalo Run to cool off and relax a little bit, but I was so tired that even daubing was too much and I went home. My mother in law had watched the kids for me and wanted to stay and visit until Mr. Diva got home at 12:30. I love her to pieces, but I was really tired and smelled like ass and just wanted a shower and my bed. I finally got both - at 2:30.
So Sunday morning, naturally, I was kind of a zombie. I got up with the kids, fed them, turned on the TV, then laid down on the couch to drift in and out of consciousness for awhile. All of the sudden I hear the back door burst open, feet running toward me and then,
"MOM!! The grave's been dug up!! JOYCE IS GONE!!!"
What a way to wake up.
So more tears were shed, of course. I calmed everybody down then went back to wake up Mr. Diva and alert him of the grave robbing. He was not a happy person. We assume it was Jake, but there's no way to know for sure. Hell, the way my luck goes, we may have been thrown into an alternate universe or a Stephen King novel and have our very own Pet Sematary.
I'm just glad the kids didn't find Joyce's remains. Oy, I would've had to have bought them a pony, new bikes, a trip to Disney World and arranged for them to meet Willie Wonka.
Turns out I didn't have to make things better all by myself. Mamacita came through for me and had her kittens yesterday. Of course, we can't find them so have no idea how many new Joyces we have.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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6 comments:
OH no!!! Wait, aren't you already going to Disney? Does that count?
You really should name your animal more animal appropriate names because if a person unfamiliar to your blog were to read your entries for the last few they would think you were a sick twisted freak, well...
you are sick and twisted, but come on Joyce's grave has been dug up and her body is missing and we think Jake is the one who did it. Sounds like a really demented soap opera.haha
ROFLMAO! @ taterbug! OMG, I never even thought of stuff like that!!!
Jen, oh yeahhhhhhh...man, you saved me from promising them another trip!
Tater, RIFLMAO! Only you, dear sister....only you.
When you think about it though....we have had Max, Jude, Joyce, Junior and Carlos. We now have Marsha, Cindy, and Jake. Come to think of it, Chandler has Peggy and John Jr....yeah, we should really get a book of pet names.
Real Kidd, and she says I'M twisted!
You guys are hilarious!
Reading these entries make me glad that I live in the city where we're required to dispose of pets properly. Of course that didn't stop us from having a burial at gutter side for our pet fish.
Yeah, you guys are wrong. We just ate our pets when they died, like normal hillbillys.
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