Breaking The Law

For the last year, I’ve picked up Mallie Bee on the same street.  Every day, 2:45.   Usually around one of these signs posted on the street.  I’ve got the company of other parents, as well, and a new mom asked me if it was o.k. to pick up there considering the signs.  Sure thing, I said, nobody cares.  Nobody cared until a couple of days later when the Popo pulled up next to me and said…..

Ma’am you can’t park here.  Oh, I can’t?

Do you see the signs?  I do, Officer, but I’m not parking. 

Ma’am, you’ll have to move, we’re trying to prevent cars from getting stacked up.  You mean all five of them.

You can park one block over, but not here.  And the difference would be? 

The difference would be that there aren’t any no parking signs there like the one right in front of you.   Duly noted, Deputy Fife.

Eight no parking signs on a residential side street kicking everybody out where a current or former president does not live.  Overkill, City Council, overkill.  I told the Beester we’ll give it a couple of weeks and lay low and then I’ll go back to picking her up in the usual spot.  The Popo may have the stinkin’ badges, but I’ve got my stinkin’ rights and pay my stinkin’ taxes.  Just like the Tea Party, I’m going to start a movement and parking rules are just the tip of the iceberg.  

Small Tall Grande

I’m not a fan of Starbucks and it’s not because I don’t think they’re cool.  They own the cool factor between their product, their shop, even their musicMy cool brother and his wife go so often that they bought the employees on the early shift Christmas gifts.   I wonder if they gave them Starbucks gift cards 😉   My cool sister goes every day and passes along curly hair styling tips that she gets from the girl working behind the counter.

My problem with Starbucks is that they’re always yelling at people.  Yelling your name and yelling your order as if you aren’t standing right in front of them waiting for your coffee.  What’s with all the yelling?   Can’t they say, oh, are you Nancy with the espresso?  Well, there you go Nancy.  Mellow, laid back, like a coffee shop should be. 

I worked at a shopping center that had a Starbucks and a bagel shop.  I bought my coffee at the deli counter at the grocery store.  It was from a local company and it cost a whopping 69 cents.  The old lady working the counter always looked like she was asleep or dead, and in two years of going there, not once did she smile or act like she’d ever seen me before.  Her customer service was average or below all the time, and mine would be too, if I smelled like salami every day.

But…….I liked her.  Not once while she was working her crappy job and I was about to clock into my crappy job, did she ever yell at me.  Separated by twenty years and a meat counter, we had a lot in common.  Two women doing time for The Man.

The Vacation Chronicles: Good Times

The Big Daddy and I have rarely taken the kids and gone on vacation.  We have squirreled our money away to make sure they can go to college, and that has meant that the fun, expensive stuff doesn’t happen very often.  In fact, it happens about every five years.  But, oh my, when we do go we appreciate every second of it.  This trip was just about perfect – a wedding, our Lake Michigan, perfect weather, sweet little beach town, some boating, some cocktails, good grilling and great roomies.  The pics…………..

Chicks in good clothes and nice shoes.

Big Daddy & The Captain looking like badasses in their vintage hats.

BD telling the table that everything he does makes it on the blog.  Yep.

The cousins table.  They had the fever.  Dance fever.
Teacher Girl & Prince Charming – they’re next @ “I do.”

Menfolk making breakfast.

Rough water, riptides, crazy people in the water.

I can ride a bike.  I did ride a bike.  I loved riding the bike.

Crashing waves……cool, real cool.

I loved this house.  I stalked this house….on my bike.
Little Dancer becomes Little Mermaid

The Boy Child in action.
 
You know you’re on vacation when there’s a lighthouse.

Every day, same seats.

The Captain, Tennille & The Big Daddy

Lotto win + beach rental = maybe next year.

Hearting The Cubs

The starting shortstop for the Chicago Cubs, Starlin Castro, was benched this week for not paying attention.  While he was supposed to be watching the infield and the ball in play, he was looking at the sky, standing with his glove off and eating sunflower seeds.

Is this guy ADD, the press wanted to know.  Nah, he’s just a Cubs player.  The Cubs haven’t won the World Series since 1902 and are currently in 5th place.  They almost always end the year in 5th place.  If they manage to get any higher, it’s kind of a big deal and labeled a pretty good season.

If you are a Cubs fan, you understand losing.  Watching a major league baseball player staring off into space reminds us of ourselves while we’re at work, and it’s why we’ve been known to call in sick and head to the ballpark to see how the pros do it.

“Losing is like a disease, as contagious as the bubonic plague.”

Here They Come

My dad worked for the Edison Company in Chicago for more than 40 years.  He was in charge of safety for the company.  When a guy climbed a poll to restore electricity, my dad was the one who made sure he was trained and knowledgeable in the work he was doing so that he didn’t electrocute himself.  Early in his career, he had to make a house call to a young wife to deliver the news that her husband had died on the job, and that’s the kind of thing that stays with you always. 

We have wicked storms here in Kansas.  Everything you have ever read about them is true, and because of that, it’s not unusual to lose our electricity.  One time it was out for seven days, another time five.  We’ve always toughed it out and managed to get along, but when those power trucks start rumbling into the neighborhood, you want to kiss the ground they roll in on.

Because of a lifetime of my dad’s stories, I’ve never taken them for granted or the people behind the scenes who worry about them until they return to the station.  They are old-fashioned cowboys in these modern times we live in, working long and hard doing dangerous work storm after storm.  And, yes, they do save the day.

After The Storm

We had a doozy of a storm here the other day.  I slept through the entire thing, which is highly unusual.  To sleep, that is.  When we woke up late the following morning, we discovered the power had gone out during the night which was why the alarm never went off.  I made a coffee run while The Big Daddy was in the shower and although our street was fine, all around us trees were down.

Two days later, BD and I took the long way home from church and did a tour of the area.  Oh geez,  it was crazy how much damage there was and the randomness of it.  One side of the street would be fine and the other side looked like somebody took a wrecking ball to every tree.

We couldn’t believe we slept while this was going on, but that’s how we roll lately.  Maybe in our youth we might have been storm chasers, going out to see nature do its ass kicking, but age and wisdom have caught up with us. 

Now we’re damage gawkers and that means we’ve officially crossed over to the other side.  The old people side.

The Vacation Chronicles: Open Water

Several years ago, The Big Daddy and I went to see “Open Water”.   The movie was about a couple that goes scuba diving in the Barrier Reef and when they come up, the tour boat has left without them.   It was based on a true story and by the end, they succumb to the elements.  Well, that and the sharks.  It. Terrified.  Me.

When we were on our vacation, I’d get a panic attack every time we were in the boat, for fear I’d get tossed out and left behind until death mercifully came.  It took some doing, but I decided to put my big girl panties on one afternoon and get on the boat so I could hang out at the beach while the kids went tubing.  The Captain anchored the boat, The Big Daddy went swimming down yonder, and the kids and I got in the water.  We were on a sandbar having fun until it was time for them to go tubing and I needed to swim to shore.

Every time my foot left the sandbar, I’d panic.  I tried about five times and I couldn’t do it.  Finally, I got a life jacket on SO WHEN I WALKED TO the shore, I wouldn’t die.  About this time, The Big Daddy comes back and says……..

What are you doing with a life jacket on?  Going to hang out on the beach.

You don’t need a life jacket.  It’s a safety measure.
 
Safety for what?  For when the sharks come.

It’s a lake.   It’s big like the ocean.

You’re in four feet of unsalted water.  Maybe the sharks got lost.

Maybe you’ve lost your mind.   That’s why the sharks can’t have my arms and legs.

While the kids watched all this from the boat, I thought I felt something by my leg and that’s when people in the movies always feel the sharks.  I didn’t hang around to convince them I wasn’t crazy because me and my life jacket needed to bob to the shore.  When I had safely landed, I made a beeline to the bathroom.

It was hard work dodging the sharks, and just an FYI here, it is possible to have the shit scared out of you.


Source: None via Josie on Pinterest




 

Back To School Night

Next year at this time, The Big Daddy and I will be empty-nesters.  No more up and at ’em in the early dawn.  No more packing a lunch or signing off on forms we haven’t read.  No more crazy parking lot of crazy teenage drivers.  And no more Back To School Night.

Thank God.

Every year when I join the herd of parents shuffling between classes to meet the teacher, it feels like I’m right back in hell.  The Mean Moms are there in their Ralph Lauren attire which stands out nicely against the fake bake.  They’re joined by Prosperous Dad who pops his collar cuz he makes $200 grand a year, which for some reason makes him think he’s made the varsity golf team.

We make our way from class to class, signing in (yes, we love Junior and care about his education) and grab a syllabus.  It’s always crowded and always hot, unless you luck out and end up in the basement in one of the art rooms where the teacher is cool and the room is cooler.

We went to a French class one year and Madame Teacher was sporting a beard (that doesn’t seem very Frenchie) and whoa………She. Was. A. Battleax.  I was so stinking afraid of her that I never moved my head, keeping it perfectly lined up behind the person in front of me.  As if my big fat hair wasn’t going to out me.  When she asked if there were any questions, I wanted to raise my hand, but I was so afraid of her that I sat there with a stupid grin on my face, nodding like I just got off the short bus.

Back to school night.  Just like back in the day, but, mercifully, only two hours long.