Not like I'm keepin score or anything....

Friday.....what the holy hell took you so long to get here?

What an incredibly loooooooooong week.

I think being sick made it feel even longer.

Being stuck inside a musty old school building for 10 hours on the nicest day of the year so far made it looooooooooger still.

Yesterday, walking into the commercial kitchen where our afternoon culinary arts class is held and smelling the distinct stench of cigarette smoke INSIDE THE WALK IN FREEER made time stand still.

Even with a terrible cold I have the nose of a Blood Hound.

How dare they!!! HOW DARE THEY!!!

PUNKS!!!!!!

I find it totally amusing that they all think the staff came down with yesterday's rain.

Yes sir.... we're dumber than doornails.

The loveables think they're so slick they'll be able to pull crap over on us....and sometimes they do, for about five seconds.

So as my face flushed and my heart raced I reached into my bag of "effective mothering" tricks and techniques and pulled out a doozy.

The GUILT CARD.

Sadly, with droopy eyes and a tear in my voice I told the loveable thugs that I was certain to lose my job over the Smokin in the Boys Room Fridge Mystery.

How hard being jobless would be, especially since my husband was laid off. (sniffle)

That I had every hope that the next lady they brought in to teach them to cook would care about them as much as I did. (sob)

I laid it on pretty thick.

And they bought it.

A few minutes after my little over dramatic monologue the other staff took each loveable aside and asked for information.

Every last one of them...every.... last..... one of them pointed a finger at the guilty kid.

Baby criminals aren't usually singing canaries.

But yesterday this bunch of lightweights were putty in our hands.....(hahahaha).

Juvenile Justice Day Treatment Staff 1
The Loveable Thugs 0

Good eye....

Daddio was lonely the other day and he invited me on a walk.

It was going to be a very long walk to a park about 3 miles from our home...(okay, maybe 2.5 miles, but it felt like 16.5 miles).

I made him wait while I grabbed my camera.

I was hoping my walk would provide lots of cool things for me to capture. Maybe a couple of masterpieces with my lens.

(I have no eye for photography....the above line was wishful typing).

When Daddio walks, he is a man on a mission, and because we were walking so fast I only had time to dribble in my underwear, not fiddle around pulling out a camera.

Until we got to the park, where he offered me a sit on a bench and a small rest.

Just like I thought, the park was full of wonderful things for this Steve Bloom wanna be.

I started with a beautiful serene looking duck that was floating down the lazy river.

I crept to where I thought I could get some good shots.

Shit, I missed.

Again.

My sidekick threw in his two cents "are you not seeing that there is a rythym to the duck going up and down in the water looking for food?" Daddio asked. " He comes up for breath every so many seconds. Can't you snap the picture then?"

(Uh, sure Ed McMahon, thanks)

 Ah, I'm starting to get the rythym..the rythym of the dandelions.

The sweet duck, dangerously near the sidewalk (and me).

Some kind of black bird.

And here is a cute little squirrel.

When I got home and reviewed my shots it became very apparent that I need to look to other nature subjects to showcase my "good eye."

Ahhh, finally one I can be proud of.

Hungry?.... Eat!!!

Just a couple of weeks ago I watched, teary eyed, as my Blue Sky marched her pint sized pretty self across a stage and accepted a diploma declaring her a college graduate.

I've written before that she made the road to this moment seem effortless.

Not effortless in that she didn't suffer stomach aches and anxiety over exams and papers or look bleary eyed some mornings after staying up half the night working on homework...effortless in that it seemed like she made a couple of choices, took the proper classes and VOILA!!!.. a Bachelor Degree.

I'm filled to the gills with pride.

But Googie's not.

She's been complaining lately that she simply "settled" on a Major to get her tired butt out of college.

That she got impatient and couldn't bear the thought of being on the five or six years to graduation plan.

So she gathered all her credits, marched into her advisor's office and said "get me out of here".

And while that was an okay decision for the moment, it's left her hungry.

Hungry for more than she feels she's settled for.

I think I'm correct in saying that the hunger has always been there, she just hid it well.

Or pretended it wasn't there???

The other day Googie told me that she could return to school and get a second degree in Theater.

"One year, Mom. That's all it would take" she said, using my favorite ear to ear Times Square smile.

In the past few days she's been doing lots of research online and has even become email pen pals with a Tony Award winning actor.

Then she mentioned something about a big audition.

So big that a number of theaters would have casting people there. (These Michigan theater groups are nationally respected and pay with real cash money to those that act on their stages).

She called and asked about a slot to give it her best shot.

All filled up...sorry, they told her.

She prepared anyway.

She asked Trouble to take a couple of good head shots and she practiced a monologue.

She then drove, alone, to the audition site many miles from our home.

She didn't take her crooked mother's advice to pretend that she did have a slot and that somebody must have screwed up and forgotten to write her name down. (You know those damn stage mothers they'll say or do any-thing to get their kid's foot in a door).

Her "Motherrrrr!!!!!!!" was enough to tell me she'd do it her own way.

The right way.

She walked in and told them that she didn't have an appointment but was hoping that she would be allowed to audition.

She called to tell me that they'd let her.

And when she did, she made them laugh.

(Well of course you did darlin!!!)

She felt like she did well.

She doesn't know if they can use her for anything...but hey, she gave them some good food for thought.

Sweetheart, like the song says, I hope you 'always keep that hunger'.

I love you GOOOOOOGIE, you make my heart sing.

Googie on Times Square with her ear to ear smile.

She hates this picture, but it shows how her face looked the entire time we were in New York.

A job for a good daddy.....

I've caught a cold.

And as Daddio would certainly tell you, (if you cared to listen) I could brave an appendectomy sans anesthesia better and with less complaining than I do a cold.

I start fall to pieces at the slightest twinge of a sore throat or one too many sneezes.

I caught this cold from one of two places.

Marmie (my darling mother) was sick and sounding like a slightly feminine man when we spoke numerous times last week.

As much as I sometimes think otherwise, germs don't travel 3000 miles over phone lines.

So it must have come from the other source, one of my lovables.

One of the youth in my work program came in sicker than a dog last week.

Sneezing, sniffling, coughing....

"I caught it from my baby girl" he confessed.

"Ya gotta stop kissin her on the mouth" I told him with a smile.

"I can't" he said " I can't stop she is sooooo cute and her cheeks are chubby. Every time I'm near her I try to eat them off her face. I can't help it. You should see how chubby her cheeks are, soooo chubby and sweet"

He continued, "You know her whole family dogged me and didn't think I'd step up and be there for my girl. I've showed them. I buy her diapers and clothes and I even got her medicine for this bad cold."

Oh well, I can't really complain about catching a cold from a juvenile offender who has admitted to being a kind of father to his baby girl that every daughter should have...one who smothers her with love and kisses, diapers and clothes and calls her fat cheeks the sweetest things he's ever seen.

PS...Bob, thanks (and I love you) for paring (nibbling) these mammoth babies down to a normal size ;-)

Forgive me Daddio for I have sinned....

Today after church Daddio offered to take me on my grocery rounds. This usually means a trip to the fruit market and to some kind of large grocery store. I had an awesome coupon for Meijers. One of those use the pharmacy, get twenty bucks off deal, so to Meijers it was.

The place was packed as usual. And I should know better that when poor Daddio starts to complain while still in the parking lot that maybe I should limit my trip to a loaf of bread and some milk.

I poo-pooed my gut warning and stupidly proceeded.

"The walk of the living dead" he growled, barely missing hitting a wide fannied woman wearing dingy white polyester pants and carrying six black garbage bags filled with plastic returnables.

He found a space about a mile from the entrance. "A walk will do us both good" he said in defense of his crappy choice.

I think he does this on purpose, he knows that if I were driving, we'd go round and round and round until one of the first parking spots opened up.

I don't care if it takes thirty minutes to find that perfect spot, and I usually don't realize that I've gone around so many times until I notice my gas gauge starting to go down.

"Mom, I'm getting dizzy" the kids used to say. "Please just pick a spot." 

Daddio went for a cart and he didn't even flinch when his mitts grabbed the dirty cart handle.

I shudder to think of all the E.coli he's probably just touched.

Oprah once did a show about E.coli and the places where it can be found.

Believe it or not public toilet seats don't have a ton of microscopic poop on them.

Bowling balls and shopping carts were found to be much worse...yuck

I've not stuck my fingers into a bowling ball since I saw that show.

Unfortunately, I can't say the same about shopping carts. Therefore I'm forced happy to use the sani-wipes the store provides.

Daddio gave me the evil eye as I searched (in vain) for the alcohol wipes.

"Forget it" he barked "I don't need those things."

"You're going to get sick" I warned.

"That's why I have such a superior immune system" Daddio brags "I'm not scared of germs."

Daddio doesn't really understand how aggressive he needs to be to successfully navigate a Meijer store on a Sunday after church.

Trying to be mannerly gets you nowhere besides stuck behind a lady with a coupon filled shoe box, six unruly snotty nosed children and two full carts.

Or an old gray buck carefully studying the entire 129 different varieties of Campbell's soup looking for Mrs. Grass chicken noodle.

Arrghhhh.....

So as Daddio, beginning to look brain dead waits behind the gang,  I scurry ahead grabbing items as I go.

Needing to get some tomato sauce for spaghetti I stop at the Hunts sauce and look for the big cans.

Of course, as usual they only have the eight ounce size and all of them seem to be dented.

When he catches up to me Daddio gets perturbed watching me feel out each can trying to find an uninjured few.

"What the hell does it matter?" he asks "just grab a couple."

I'll be sure to remind him of this little exchange a couple of days from now when he is suffering from stomach cramps.

We make it to the check out with me knowing that I certainly have forgotten something...you can't shop properly under that kind of pressure.

I choose a good lane and place our groceries onto the belt. Daddio was in front and didn't know what to do when the cashier passed him one of those grocery separating bars like a baton in a race.

"What?" he asks, holding it in the air "Do I run with this thing?"

When the cashier is almost done ringing our order I see that there is a great possibility that I may be able to use my $6.00 off $60.00 coupon as well.

I started getting giddy.

$26.00 off my grocery order!!!!

When the total hit $60.53 I almost screamed "BINGO", but for Daddio's sake I just stood mute and handed the cashier the coupons.

A little history here, over the years Daddio has gone to the grocery store once, maybe three times by himself. The couple of times that he did was because I was totally unable...I had a day old newborn at home or I was projectile vomiting and had a temperature of 103.

So only when he HAD to, did Daddio ever step foot into a grocery store.

I always gave him coupons and good directions about using them.

The following day I'd find them in a soggy ball at the bottom of the washing machine.

When I handed the blob to Daddio he'd just shrug and say "I forgot."

That was not a truthful statement...Daddio would rather hang by his earlobes than use a coupon. Using one is like asking for charity. Stealing money from the cashier's pocket. Trying to redeem a clam shell from the Great Depression...

He was beyond horrified when the cashier swiped my first coupon and the machine did nothing.

She swiped and swiped.

Without even looking I could feel Daddio pain.

"Buy any alcohol?" she asked.

If we had Daddio would have cracked it open by now and would have been in a much better frame of mind.

"Nope, no alcohol" I answered.

"Ohhhh...it doesn't count your bottle deposits" Miss Cashier finally figured out. "You need to buy something else."

Daddio's embarrassment and the line behind us was growing by the minute.

"Gum!!" I yelled "I'll take some gum."

Since the people behind us in their impatience had invaded our personal space, I couldn't reach the gum display and had to ask the cashier to choose a pack.

The first pack didn't cost enough.

"Okay, two then" I told the cashier who obviously is also a Libra and was having a hard time making a choice for me.

"ANY KIND" I yelled "ANYTHING!!!!"

The second pack didn't do it either.

"Charge me for two eight packs of Pepsi, I'll run back and get another." I suggested.

Finally, the machine took the coupons.

I sent Daddio and the other groceries to the car and I ran to the back to get my extra eight pack of pop.

It was a long walk which gave me plenty of time to plan my defense.

I was mighty tempted to ask the cashier for that baton and directions to the nearest exit.

I can fly.....

Doing a bit of internet hopping I stumbled upon Saturday Centus, a themed writing meme. The challenge is to write 100 words to add to the prompt started by Jenny Matlock from off on my tangent.

The writing prompt is in itallics....


The small Cessna 172 picked up speed as it roared down the runway, Sara at the controls, the flight instructor beside her,


She shook the daydream from her mind and went back to watching the bird, whose wings dipped in perfect harmony with her feelings. Up, down, side to side. When the bird dipped close enough for Sara to see it she noticed how incredibly plain it was. But in flight, wings spread, soaring, it appeared to be so much more.

Just like me, thought Sara.....

TROUBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! You're in DEEP!!!!

OhhhhMy(freakin)Gawd.....it happened again, twice in fifteen days.

The phone started ringing in the middle of the night.

Last time I reported an incident such as this I told of walking across Daddio and the covers Jesus lizard style.

This time, I was a cartoon scaredy cat that blew up and out the ceiling, paws spread east and west...with every hair at attention.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE PHONE IS RINGING" I screamed at slumbering Daddio.

3:48 in the freakin morning the phone was ringing.

Once again, my eyes struggled to see who it was that was calling.

I determined by glancing at the number that it was our oldest son.

Had to be trouble.

At 3:48 in the morning there is no other reason to call your parent's home unless you're in trouble.

I ran to the bathroom. I had to pee or puke.

Okay, I'm being a bit overdramatic.

I ran to pee and to not be in the room when Daddio figured out what the caller's problem was.

A wait like that can be compared to dry heaving.

"Hello, HELLO, HELLLLLL-OOOOO" I could hear Daddio saying.

I went back to my room and Daddio.

Per his request I flipped on the light.

He hit the phone log button and returned the caller's call.

I ran back out of the room.

I could hear him talking and saying things like "Who is this?" and "What is your last name" and then I heard him say something like "This is mumble mumble mumble's DAD".

Oh my Sweeeet Jesus!!!!....SOMEONE was calling from The Sweet Prince Buttercup's cell phone.....

In 0.05 seconds I had Buttercup robbed, drugged, tied up and attempted raped by the bad guys that stole his phone (the ones brazen enough to answer his phone and hold a conversation with Daddio at 3:48 in the morning).

When I found the courage to peek around the corner into our bedroom Daddio had hung up and was shaking his head....

"It was Trouble (Googie's fiance')" Daddio said "it sounded like he was sleeping. He had no idea he called and was confused. I asked him who he was and he said his name. Then I asked him his last name. When I told him he'd called our house he had no explanation. He said he was very sorry".

Soooo Trouble....we need to have a little chat.

You'd better put that phone of yours on some kind of key lock, or make sure when you go to sleep that it never, ever has our house phone number as the last place you called.

We are not the kind of people that take middle of the night butt calls lightly.

You are damned lucky you are so incredibly cute and kind.

I'm just sayin....

PS...This is nothing that a bouquet of purple (or yellow) tulips and a bottle of Jimmy Beam couldn't help to erase.

PSS....I'm just kidding.

Trouble, when he wasn't in any.

PSS... I layed wide eyed awake and faint of heart wishing I could go back to sleep and wondering if it would be terribly unmotherly to not have a functioning phone in my bedroom at night?

I'll have to think more about that.

Happy Friday.. xoxo