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Perhaps This Is Why Mondays Are Somewhat Unpopular
29 October 2007 by
Now I’ll be the first to admit that I stayed up way too late last night watching a replay of the Mississippi State / Kentucky game for the third time, and that’s not counting the fact that I watched The Sylvester Croom Show twice, but please do not make fun of me because OH SWEET MERCY IT’S FUN TO WIN FOR A CHANGE.
However, since I stayed up so late last night, I was not exactly at the top of my mental or emotional game at 6:30 this morning when I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, pourin’ myself a cup of ambition as I yawned and stretched and tried to come to life.
(Even when I’m tired I still love me some Dolly.)
But that is neither here nor there.
Because when I opened the refrigerator to grab my half and half, I thought, Hmmm, that’s interesting, this half and half container isn’t very cold.
And then: Hmmm, that’s interesting, the inside of the refrigerator is sort of warm.
Hmmm.
That would be the back of our refrigerator.
The refrigerator that is no longer working.
Because it no longer “refrigerates” or “freezes” or “makes ice” or “keeps food fresh.”
Which means that we had some “meat” and some “frozen goods” that “turned.”
Fortunately, I have a husband who is handy, and he has ordered a part and hopes to have everything up and running by Wednesday or Thursday.
In the meantime, we’re just going to eat all our perishables like there’s no tomorrow.
I would hate to waste all that perfectly good cheese.
Anyway, after Alex finished school we ran to the mall so that I could return some stuff, and I ran smack dab into this dress, and y’all I am not kidding when I tell you that it took every ounce of restraint I have – along with a super-sized portion of the Holy Spirit – to keep me from slapping that dress on the counter and buying it right then and there.
Because I have so many opportunities to wear sparkly things.
But I tried to justify it by telling myself that I could wear it to church with black tights (totally could), and I could wear it during the holidays (true that), and I could throw it on in the springtime with chunky black sandals and feel oh-so-sassy (preach on, sister).
The problem, though, is that it’s beyond our budget right now, and I know it’s beyond our budget right now, and besides that WHO WERE THOSE EVIL LEPRECHAUNS WHO DRAGGED ME IN THE DRESSING ROOM TO TRY ON THAT DRESS, ANYWAY?
In the end I stood firm against the dress’ sparkly powers, but that does not mean that I won’t be gazing at the picture lovingly. With great, loving feelings for all the loveliness contained in this dress that I love so dearly.
And I have to confess that while I was in the dressing room Romans 12:2 came to mind. But it’s not so much that I want to conform to the pattern of this world. It’s just that I would really, really like to be conformed to the pattern of that dress.
I’m just seeking God’s will, people. God’s fun, funky and sparkly will.
After I bid the dress a bittersweet farewell (I bet it misses me. Seriously. It’s probably crying right about now.), Alex and I had to run to Walmart because obviously I felt that adding insult to injury would be the most fitting way to continue with my day.
But get a load of this. At some point as we were wheeling down the aisles I noticed that Alex had gotten very quiet, and you’re not even going to believe what had happened.
It took him a little over four years, but he finally talked himself to sleep.
I mean, look at his mouth. It’s like he just nodded off mid-word.
God love him.
The quiet, however, did not last for long.
Look!
Not sure what that is?
Why, it’s the place where my rear windshield wiper used to be!
Before the little man ripped it off this afternoon!
Apparently he needed the windshield wiper for leverage when he was trying to climb onto the roof of my car. Which is a completely different set of issues, I guess, but in the grand scheme of things, a broken windshield wiper is probably not that big of a deal.
Until, you know, it rains.
Here’s to Tuesday, everybody.
I hope that yours is sparkly.
The Little Man And The Fish Camp
29 October 2007 by
A few weeks ago D and Alex made a trip to Mississippi without me. At some point while they were there D and Mama determined that a supper of fried catfish was in order, and as a result of that decision Alex made his inaugural trip to the fish camp.
Quite frankly I was a little teary-eyed about missing such a huge milestone in my child’s life.
I’m still trying to get over it.
According to D, Alex was initially a little uncertain about eating a fried food that had, you know, BONES, but eventually he realized that OH MY WORD, THIS FISH IS DELICIOUS, WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME ABOUT THIS BEFORE, and he proceeded to eat a whole piece of catfish off of his daddy’s plate.
If you’re a Southerner, you know that’s a memory book moment right there.
Well, this past Friday, just as Alex and I were crossing the Mississippi / Alabama line, he piped up from the backseat and said, “Mama? Can we please go to the fish camp tonight?”
I don’t know when I’ve experienced a greater swell of maternal pride.
So I quickly picked up my phone, called my mama and made all the necessary arrangements.
I don’t mess around when it comes to large quantities of food fried in peanut oil, my friends.
Later that night we went to a fish camp on the outskirts of my hometown. It’s a no-frills kind of place: cement block walls, long picnic-style tables, and plastic tableware.
But when you’re eating this…
…who really gives a rip about the atmosphere?
Alex was WOUND UP, to say the least. We went to the fish camp with both of his grandmothers, my aunt and uncle, my cousin Paige and her family, and having SO MANY! RELATIVES! IN THE SAME! PLACE! was just about more than his little four year-old heart could bear.
So clearly she is done with all her eating for 2007.
She’ll probably have a half a grape at the beginning of 2008.
If she’s even remotely hungry by then.
And also: there was a lot of fake burping.
Yeah. I know. I haven’t been this blonde since 1982. When it was my natural color.
And I really do like it. I do.
However, it does make me feel a bit like a local news anchor. Or perhaps even a sideline reporter on ESPN.
I mean, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the phrase “BACK TO YOU, CHRIS!” has been playing non-stop in my head for the last three days.
I’m also fighting the urge to buy an array of Sensible Suits in colors that would hold up well under the glare of TV studio lights.
But that’s okay. I was affected in much the same way by the fried catfish.
You know, perhaps my hair and the catfish could co-anchor the five o’clock news.
It’s certain to be a ratings bonanza.
It’s Shaping Up To Be A Lovely Saturday
27 October 2007 by
The last time I was at Mama and Daddy’s house, the Bulldogs played a road game at Auburn and won.
This morning I decided to stay a little longer at Mama and Daddy’s than I originally planned. The Bulldogs played a road game at Kentucky. And won.
I now have no choice but to come back here in three weeks when the Bulldogs play Arkansas in Little Rock.
You can’t argue with science, people.
And in the meantime, we celebrate:
Kentucky – 14
I’m just so proud of our boys.
Go Dogs!
Jewelry Giveaway Winners
27 October 2007 by
I just used the trusty random number generator, and we have us some winners!
Commenter #96 – Melissa May
Commenter #167 – Meredith
Y’all can email me or head over to Lisa’s if you’d rather email her directly.
Thanks to everyone who participated – and congratulations, girls!
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