...and a good time was had by all

Last night, as I mentioned, we floated Tater, Bub and the tots across the creek. (Yes, there are pictures, but Tater forgot the cable that connects the camera to the computer.) We also found a back way in through the neighbor's field and were able to bring Mom and Uncle David in on the 4-wheelers. We managed to have a family 4th after all.

It was about oh, 3:30 or so when Tater called and said they were leaving the fireworks stand. That immediately threw our house into Absolute Freak-Out Frenzy mode. Paul headed to the creek in the little truck, pulling the little boat on the trailer. Kady and I got on one 4-wheeler, Abby and Sam on the other and away we went. By the time we got there, he was already out of sight, crossing Mosquito Bay, so we stood around waiting and engaging in all out war in the gigantic mosquitos from hell that now very close to my house. Paul had warned us to spray down with Off! before we headed that way. Thankfully, I had the foresight to bring the bottle along with us because one dousing was so not enough. No kidding, this is how bad the skeeters were - one flew up the leg of my shorts and I kid you not, bit me in my you know, nether bits. Seriously. Through my underoos.

(No, I'm not kidding. Yes, I know you're laughing. It's okay to laugh - I'm sure I look rather hilarious walking around scratching my cooter today.)

Anyway, I sprayed the kids down with repellent to the point their clothes had wet patches on them. And still, we swatted. At one point, I was standing there spinning around in a circle, spraying a shot of Off! as fast as my finger would let me. I was like the Off! Helicopter of Doom for the mosquitoes on Hudson Creek yesterday.

We finally heard the hum of the trolling motor and caught our first glimpse of the boat full of my swatting, slapping, cursing family members. The tots were in tot heaven, Tater was in having a meltdown because of the skeeters and Bub was remaining stoically manly in spite of the swarming bloodsuckers threatening to take his children aloft and simultaneously sucking his life force. They docked, I grabbed the tots and began hosing them down with Off! to save them from being skeeternapped or turned into little human raisins. We made it to the house with all five kids and then had to give them all Valium so they'd quit screaming about the water and the boat andohmygoshAuntKikididyouseethosemosquitos?? And then my kids kept hugging the tots because it was the first humans other than their daddy and I that they had seen in three days.

Mom and Uncle David called around 5:30 and said they were almost here, so Paul and Tater went out on the 4-wheelers, through the field to pick them up, Mom squealing and swatting at Tater to slow down or they'd crash and that just prompted Tater to go faster. When they made it back to the house without getting shot at by the cranky old neighbor man who says "no one's goin' through MY field, by cracky" the kids got all kinds of wound up again and it never ceases to amaze me how they feel that SHOUTING EVERY WORD THEY SAY WILL SOMEHOW MAKE THE WORDS MUCH MORE PROFOUND.

We ate outside on the cleanest picnic tables in the county due to one bottle of Clorox and my OCD. During dinner we discussed the water, the homes of people we knew that were under water and how law enforcement was having a hard time keeping people out of the stanky, feces-laden water. She disgustedly commented, "Do you know how many little girls have been swimming in that dirty, nasty river water? My gosh, do you know the things that can get up in there?" I said, "I bet the doctors offices in the next week are going to see an overwhelming number of vaginosis, vaginitis and vagistinkus." Mom, Tater and I laughed until we cried over that one. And being the crude people that we are, no conversation the rest of the night was without the word "vagistinkus." (You can use it, too, it's not trademarked by Ricky Bobby or Redneck Diva Inc., LLC. And of course you're welcome.)

The kids swam in the stock tank, we fought off more mosquitos, drank enough sweet tea to float a cow, shot off a few fireworks, shouted at the kids more than once to "MOVE YOUR BIG FAT HEAD!" and I think it was the best 4th of July ever.

Vagistinkus, mosquito-bitten cooters, cranky neighbors and all.