I have nothing to say! Nothing at all!! I’ve started a couple of pieces this week and they taper off into nothingness. I am not funny. My life is meaningless. I need to learn to say no.
On Sunday, I was in charge of the church Halloween carnival. It was miserable. The inflatables arrived on time and then they wouldn’t fit through the door. The person in charge of the facilities wouldn’t help me. I wanted to hurt him a lot and possibly inflict great damage upon his male parts, but I didn’t. I got my husband to help me instead, even though he does not get paid to do anything around the church. The carnival was a smashing success and I smashed nobody.
On Monday, I started preparing my house for a multi-level girl scout meeting, an event only I am stupid enough to host. I persuaded my dearest Teensy to help me transform the basement into the nature trail to Hell. I love Teensy. She loves me. We both love Halloween. It’s a good fit.
We began the transformation by cutting up 200 black garbage bags and hanging them from the ceiling. I climbed up and down the ladder, duct taping them to the gas line. Yes, that’s right, we were going to gas the Brownies at the end of the trail. “WE TOLD YOU NOT TO VENTURE INTO THE DARK”!!!! Muahahhahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!
Anyway, that night, in all my spare time, I had to go work the concession stand at a football game. Within thirty minutes of my arrival, my knees were in agony. It took me all night to figure out that my ladder clambering combined with the concrete floor of the concession stand was the cause of my agony. Do they still make Anacin??
While in the concession stand, my phone rang. It was the goddess and she was weeping most copiously. “Moooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” she wailed, “I…I….I…wu…..wu……wuz…..wa…..wa…..wa….watching Hannah Montana…..and…..Sissy…..ch….ch…..ch….changed the ch….ch…..ch….channel….and I NEVER EVEN SAW THAT EPISODE!!!!!!” Let me assure you readers that NO episode of Hannah Montana has gone unwatched in my house, so her story did not ring true, but I played along.
“Well, fine,” I said, “go watch it in my room.”
“I aaaaaaammmmmmmmm,” she wailed. ‘Um, ok,’ I wondered, ‘then what exactly is the problem?’ I had nachos to serve and did not have time to talk to her so I hung up the phone.
Ten minutes later, it rang again. “Mooooooooooom,” came my son’s voice, “Amy called me a butthead!!!”
‘Well,’ I thought to myself, ‘that’s because you are a butthead,’ but I didn’t say it. Instead, I said “Do you know where I am?”
“Uh, no,” he said.
“I’m in the concession stand.”
“Well, what are you doing there?” he asked intelligently
“Working my BUTT off so you can be in the BAND,” I said rather loudly. “Now will you leave me alone??” ‘you little butthead,’ I added under my breath.
“Oh, sorry,” he said.
After the phone calls, the zest went out of my evening. Between the crippling arthritic pains in my knees and the fact that there were twenty of us milling around the concession stand, doing nothing, I decided it was time to leave. So I headed home.
Got home, found out that John had been grounded to his room for calling Amy an a-hole. I love that he is hanging out with all these older kids and expanding his vocabulary. He was in trouble because Amy had called her daddy and not me and daddy was having none of it! The fact that Amy is occasionally an a-hole and had, in fact, been pelting him with tiny plastic monster figures did not excuse him from shouting obscenities.
“I’m not a hypocrite, son,” I told him. “I have a potty mouth and I admit it. But I’m 38 and you’re 14 and (say it with me y’all!!) AS LONG AS YOU LIVE UNDER MY ROOF YOU WILL NOT CALL YOUR SISTER AN A-HOLE!!!” Even if she is one. For punishment, he is banished from Facebook for a week, a fate worse than death for a 14 year old.
Tuesday, I spent all day with Teensy, continuing the basement transformation. Gina came over and supervised for a little while. We got the bags hung up and then went shopping for more props. I found a truly spectacular remote control rat (better watch out Renee…muahahaha) and a flying bat. Only problem was, once I got them home, the rat didn’t work. Fucker.
Wednesday dawned gray and gloomy. I was starting to panic because we hadn’t done much to the basement at all. The bags were up, but that was it. My friend Cheryl showed up with a car full of props and we set to with a will. By 2 p.m., the transformation was complete. The basement was dark and eerie, filled with bats and spiders and skulls, and a really fabulous animatronic tree that added the perfect touch to the woods from Hell.
Best of all, my friend Mr. Green came over before the party and fixed the rat. The door to the battery compartment was not tight enough, or something. Mr. Green channeled his inner McGyver and jerry-rigged the rat with an empty DOTS box. There are no words to express the bliss of having a furry little rat zoom around between people’s feet, his eyes glowing with the red demon fires of hell. Truly spectacular!!
The girl scouts all came, the party was an enormous success and I have been proclaimed girl scout leader of the century!! I led the girls through the basement over and over again, up and down the stairs, frequently with one of the smaller scouts on my hip. And my knees still hurt.
Yesterday I took the stuff down; it’s amazing to me that we spent three days putting it all up and it came down in less than an hour!! That was all I did yesterday. At least until the kids got home. Then I took Amy to the eye doctor, left her there, drove to school to get the goddess from art lessons, drove back to the eye doctor to get Amy, drove the goddess to soccer, drove to Hacienda to meet the boys for dinner, drove home to get Amy’s soccer stuff, then drove her out to soccer practice, which wasn’t over until 8:45. And my knees still hurt.
Today, I am catching up on all the laundry because I have to drive Amy to Pensacola for a stupid soccer tournament. I won’t be back until late Sunday afternoon. NOW do you see why I haven’t been blogging???? If you guessed it’s because my knees hurt, you would be right!! Next week, we are going to earn the orthopedic surgery Try-It because I am getting bi-lateral knee replacements! Or maybe I’ll just start drinking heavily!! Stay tuned for tales from Pensacola!!