Right now it sounds like a small village is being plundered right outside my back door. Why? I took all five kids to the Dollar Tree after church and bought water bombs. I just sprayed them all down with sunscreen and sent them out, locking the door behind them.
I am the coolest mom/aunt ever. I also have just guaranteed myself an hour of blogging time.
I also truly believe that the person who thought up the concept of Dollar Tree stores is a flippin' genius. Seriously.
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Follow the path of the coney, man.
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Friday was Track & Field day at the kids' school. I never make them go on that day because they hate it. (If the principal is reading this she's going to now know for 100% sure that my kids haven't all been sick on T&F day for the last six years. Busted.) I hate stuff like that, they do, too, so why make them suffer? It's the one day that I let them skip, sue me. My mother-in-law came over to inspect the new storm cellar while I was tanning. Now, when I tan on days that I don't work, I don't get fancied up. That morning I had pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail on top of my head, threw on some capri sweats and didn't bother with any makeup. When I got back from tanning Paul said she wanted to go see the tornado damage in Picher and did I want to go? I said yeah and got in the van, still looking like a trailer park matriarch and smelling faintly of tanning bed and fried sweat. It was when we were about halfway down the driveway that my mother-in-law announced that she was taking us all out to lunch. At the steakhouse. I sweetly asked if she wasn't sure that maybe she felt like Sonic instead because I, uhm, kind of looked bad and smelled funky. She said, no, she definitely wanted a steak for lunch. I looked at my husband, smiled and said, "Well, the you're going to have to take me back up to the house so I can put on some makeup and fix my hair."
This did not go over well with the mother-in-law. But Paul knows me well enough that had he not taken me back I would've made him miserable the rest of the day. Because I may be redneck, but I am also very, very diva.
I ran into the house, dropping my pants as I ran down the hall and tossing my shirt onto the bathroom counter. I quickly smeared some deodorant under each arm, sprayed about half a gallon of body splash from head to toe, threw my makeup into a bag so I could put it on in the car and pulled out the sloppy ponytail on top of my head. I rearranged my curls into a big poufy thing in a clip, spritzed them with some curl stuff (that stuff is sheer, pure, unadulterated magic, people) and ran, shirtless and pantsless, back down the hall to my room. I grabbed a pair of denim capris from off a hanger, slipped on my black sequined flipflops as I pulled a shirt over my head. I was back in the van in 4 minutes. Paul just looked at me, shook his head and grinned. I think he secretly likes it that I'm vain. That's what I tell myself, anyway.
At the steakhouse I dripped salad dressing right down the front of my shirt. My mother-in-law had an evil grin on her face and Paul nearly choked trying not to outright laugh at me. Salad dressing stain or not, though, I had awesome hair.
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Abby spent the night with a friend Friday night. Kady and Sam went to Ain't Pam's house to spend the night.
Paul got lucky.
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Yesterday after I picked up all the kids from their various outposts, we stopped by to visit Mom at an auction she was working. It was surplus medical supplies and equipment. When I walked in Mom informed me that had I been there 15 minutes earlier I could've bid on an exam table. With stirrups. I texted that to Paul and he promptly texted back, "See if you can make a deal with the person who bought 'em."
Eeeeeewwwww.
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Thursday night I went to a bridal shower for my mom.
When I was 15, if you had told me I would sometime in the future type that last sentence I'd have laughed at you.
It was wonderfully wonderful, though. Among the one nightgown, various picture frames, cookbooks (Paula Deen! SO borrowing that one!) and framed pictures, she got two toasters, which cracked me up! They are in their 50's and 60's and now are the proud owners of two new toasters. Mom was tickled pink - she said she'd been needing one for awhile, but figured she'd put her money on something more important.
Also, when you get a bunch of 50-something year old women in a room with a 50-something year old bride, the conversation apparently turns to sex rather quickly. I don't know how many times I had to tell Abby and Kady, "Cover your ears, girls!" which of course, made the women just cackle. Fortunately, the conversation didn't prompt any questions from my daughters afterward.....whew!
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Water fight now turning to all-out arguing, whining and bossing-around. I am one minute shy of the hour I thought I'd get.
I'm good.
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