I Don't Know Nothin'
I have nothing to say. I am speechless. I am boring. Why are you
here? Do you think I can entertain you? I think not. What a boring
life I lead. What did I do today? Hmm...
I forced myself to get out of bed at 9:00 a.m. My children were
fending for themselves. They are quite good at it until they start to
fight. I was up late, if you call 3:00 a.m. late. Some might call it
early. I can not get to sleep when my Hillbilly Husband is gone. No
snoring in my ear and hot breath on my neck. I was reading, but
not The Night Stalker. Not at night when I'm alone. It was called
Oedipus Wrecked, a naughty little book that is a quick read. I got
through all but the last chapter.
I took the boys to their Saturday bowling league, which is really
HH's job, but it's kind of hard to fly in from Brazil just for kid
bowling. I was once again annoyed by the squatters trying to
move in on my territory. We get there 30 minutes early so the
boys can eat their fill of bowling alley food and play some games.
I got the pick of the litter in spectator seating. I had to stake out
my boundaries. I was at the counter facing the lanes. I got the
chair on the end. #2 son was next to me, because I have to put
ketchup on his fried polish sausage that he calls a hot dog. On
the other end of #2 was #1. The kids ran off to play while the
food was cooking, so I had to mark my territory. Eewww! Not
like that. That's the way a dog does it. I put #1's soda in his
spot, and #2 left his GameBoy DS and soda in front of his seat,
plus he had his coat hanging on the chair. Now I was in a
quandary. Don't worry about me. I got out. Since I had not
brought in my coat, I picked up some napkins and ketchup
packets, and placed them on the counter in front of my chair.
From experience, I knew that would not be enough. I didn't
take in the phone, my usual marker, so I left my keys on the
counter. Then I went to watch my spawn play video games.
At two minutes until 2:00, the squatters arrived. Every week
they crowd into my personal space. The head squatter took
the chair next to #1. The food was ready, so I distributed it.
#1 didn't like the head squatter being right on top of him, so
he scooted his chair right up against #2. Ahh...such brotherly
love. NOT. That was a bad move, because the head squatter
grabbed a chair from a nearby table, and wedged it in between
herself and #1, and let one of her cronies sit there. Poor #1.
I told him he should have stayed put, at least he would have
had a buffer zone of about 6 inches instead of 1 mm. When
he finished eating, I told him to leave his trash until we were
ready to leave, or they would continue to creep down until
they were in my lap. It's always the same people. Dadburn
squatters! Let THEM come 30 minutes early if they want my
seats. I can't stand them, or their little bowler, either. Last
week they paid her every time she got a strike. I don't know
how much, but she screamed so loud I think it must have been
a $20 bill. At least a $10 bill. Tweenage girls don't get so excited
over much less than that. One game, she got 3 strikes. I take it
that she usually doesn't get so many. I hope the meth sales were
good last week.
After bowling, we went to mail the 6 bills I had written checks
for this morning. I had to keep one for another day, because
the flap didn't stick, and I don't want it to arrive as an empty
envelope. I've gotta tape that sucker closed. If I can find one
of the 37 rolls of tape #1 has hoarded somewhere.
Next stop, carwash. We have vowed to wash it every weekend.
My Hillbilly Mama is afraid to drive through a carwash. Seems
my dad sent her one time to get the car washed, and she drove
out before it was done. She didn't mention the damage, but she
will only go if #1 goes through it with her and tells her what to
do. Yes, we are a family of odd phobias. My dad was the one
who wouldn't order through a drive-thru speaker.
Then I went into Save-A-Lot, but there was no woman to stalk
me while exclaiming, "You're SO PRETTY!" Maybe they caught
her and took her back to the group home.
After that, it was off to Sonic for the daily Cherry Diet Coke.
Mmm...I've still got a little bit of it left. Maybe that's what keeps
me awake at night. Maybe I should give it up. Naawww...I don't
think so.
I need to go give #2 his first pill of Zyrtec. The pills that cost me
$2.50 apiece. He used to be on the syrup, which only set me back
$0.66666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666
per dose. Maybe that's why he is so evil. Maybe not.
here? Do you think I can entertain you? I think not. What a boring
life I lead. What did I do today? Hmm...
I forced myself to get out of bed at 9:00 a.m. My children were
fending for themselves. They are quite good at it until they start to
fight. I was up late, if you call 3:00 a.m. late. Some might call it
early. I can not get to sleep when my Hillbilly Husband is gone. No
snoring in my ear and hot breath on my neck. I was reading, but
not The Night Stalker. Not at night when I'm alone. It was called
Oedipus Wrecked, a naughty little book that is a quick read. I got
through all but the last chapter.
I took the boys to their Saturday bowling league, which is really
HH's job, but it's kind of hard to fly in from Brazil just for kid
bowling. I was once again annoyed by the squatters trying to
move in on my territory. We get there 30 minutes early so the
boys can eat their fill of bowling alley food and play some games.
I got the pick of the litter in spectator seating. I had to stake out
my boundaries. I was at the counter facing the lanes. I got the
chair on the end. #2 son was next to me, because I have to put
ketchup on his fried polish sausage that he calls a hot dog. On
the other end of #2 was #1. The kids ran off to play while the
food was cooking, so I had to mark my territory. Eewww! Not
like that. That's the way a dog does it. I put #1's soda in his
spot, and #2 left his GameBoy DS and soda in front of his seat,
plus he had his coat hanging on the chair. Now I was in a
quandary. Don't worry about me. I got out. Since I had not
brought in my coat, I picked up some napkins and ketchup
packets, and placed them on the counter in front of my chair.
From experience, I knew that would not be enough. I didn't
take in the phone, my usual marker, so I left my keys on the
counter. Then I went to watch my spawn play video games.
At two minutes until 2:00, the squatters arrived. Every week
they crowd into my personal space. The head squatter took
the chair next to #1. The food was ready, so I distributed it.
#1 didn't like the head squatter being right on top of him, so
he scooted his chair right up against #2. Ahh...such brotherly
love. NOT. That was a bad move, because the head squatter
grabbed a chair from a nearby table, and wedged it in between
herself and #1, and let one of her cronies sit there. Poor #1.
I told him he should have stayed put, at least he would have
had a buffer zone of about 6 inches instead of 1 mm. When
he finished eating, I told him to leave his trash until we were
ready to leave, or they would continue to creep down until
they were in my lap. It's always the same people. Dadburn
squatters! Let THEM come 30 minutes early if they want my
seats. I can't stand them, or their little bowler, either. Last
week they paid her every time she got a strike. I don't know
how much, but she screamed so loud I think it must have been
a $20 bill. At least a $10 bill. Tweenage girls don't get so excited
over much less than that. One game, she got 3 strikes. I take it
that she usually doesn't get so many. I hope the meth sales were
good last week.
After bowling, we went to mail the 6 bills I had written checks
for this morning. I had to keep one for another day, because
the flap didn't stick, and I don't want it to arrive as an empty
envelope. I've gotta tape that sucker closed. If I can find one
of the 37 rolls of tape #1 has hoarded somewhere.
Next stop, carwash. We have vowed to wash it every weekend.
My Hillbilly Mama is afraid to drive through a carwash. Seems
my dad sent her one time to get the car washed, and she drove
out before it was done. She didn't mention the damage, but she
will only go if #1 goes through it with her and tells her what to
do. Yes, we are a family of odd phobias. My dad was the one
who wouldn't order through a drive-thru speaker.
Then I went into Save-A-Lot, but there was no woman to stalk
me while exclaiming, "You're SO PRETTY!" Maybe they caught
her and took her back to the group home.
After that, it was off to Sonic for the daily Cherry Diet Coke.
Mmm...I've still got a little bit of it left. Maybe that's what keeps
me awake at night. Maybe I should give it up. Naawww...I don't
think so.
I need to go give #2 his first pill of Zyrtec. The pills that cost me
$2.50 apiece. He used to be on the syrup, which only set me back
$0.66666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666
per dose. Maybe that's why he is so evil. Maybe not.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 7:01 PM
6 Comments:
Good gracious - why can't the child still take the syrup???
Agh, I slept 11 hours last night! I felt like I'd been run over this morning. My kids fended for themselves as well this morning. It was the fighting that finally caused me to come up off the couch screaming.
I can't imagine paying my child for every strike. Or homerun. Or anything else like that. We don't pay our children for their A's on the report cards either. We just take them to Chuck E Cheese and let the big scary mouse pay them for those.
Sometimes the posts where you feel like you have nothing to say are the best ones.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Sorry, I totally screwed up my comment and I needed to be rebooted. LOL.
What I was saying is that those damn squatters need lessons in manners and common sense. What were they thinking when they crammed an extra seat into an iddy bitty space? Maybe thinking had nothing to do with it.
Do we need to declare war on the squatters? I've got my bird poopers on standby. You just say the word...
Diva,
Good question. Apparently there is no other allergy drug syrup comparable to Zyrtec, so the syrup is cheaper. I guess they figure at 7, he should be able to swallow a pill.
Good to know my blog about nothing entertains you.
Chick,
Last year, the royal queen matriarch of the squatters set her 50 gallon cup of hot coffee right in #1's place. He still had his hamburger there and everything. He'd just gotten up to change his shoes. I was afraid he'd spill it and need skin grafts. They gave me dirty looks when I gave them dirty looks. I wish I'd had a bird to poop on her head then.
We might have a temporary ceasefire with our war against Beclakia. I think Rebecca is taking a blog vacation at the end of the month. We might still declare war on the U.S. Postal Service or UPS or Figi's if the mood strikes me. Stand by.
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
Yes you are right, I am taking a break at the end of this month.
I've decided to knock down a few walls, and change the paint colour of my blog. So in February, R.O.A.R will be closed for renovations.
One of the things we will be installing is anti birds spikes. You have been warned Chickadee
HooRoo
Rebecca
Keck,
I did make it through. I think I had read the whole thing in one day except for that last chapter, because it got too late to finish it at 3:00 a.m. I am sure I will read it again. I read all my books (that I like) several times.
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