Wednesday, February 15, 2006

8 for Number 2

Today was my #2 son's 8th birthday. We took him to CiCi's Pizza
per his request. He is going to Chuck E. Cheese on the weekend.
He's such a sweetie.

Being hillbillies, we bought $4 (WooHoo--count 'em--$4 worth)
of Powerball tickets for the $300 million drawing tonight. Of
course we are going to win. #1 son already has it spent. He is
bummed that we'll only get $150 million after taxes. His plans
include a customized laptop, and a Mustang convertible. My
plans include buying land and building apartments so my spawn
will always have income without really having to work. My
Hillbilly Husband says he'll settle for $100,000. Which is good,
because that will be his cut. I can't remember his plans. Something
about customizing his 1980 Oldmobile Toronado pimpmobile.
And that sweet little #2 son...what are his plans? To buy a
dishwasher that will wash the dishes all by itself. All together
now...AWWW! Let's not forget that on Saturday mornings, he
puts my rest before his hunger. I LOVE THAT BOY!

We also had a discussion of the time HH took #1 son to a family
reunion, and bragged to his kin: "And the school says he has an
IQ of almost 100!" I know I've told this story before, but I still
think it is hilarious. Those goobers must have been quite proud
that HH had managed to sire a child who was almost average.
#1 son took an online IQ test the other day when he stayed with
his grandma. He mentioned it on the phone, and I told him they
were not always accurate. He got all mad because after taking
the one adjusted for age, it wanted $7 (!) to give the results. So
then he took an adult IQ test. It told him his IQ was 107. When
he told me, I said, "You know, those tests are HIGHLY
ACCURATE." Then he got kind of mad. "No they're not! You
said they're NOT accurate!" I've really got him going because
I won't tell him his real IQ. And I never will. No good can come
of that bragging little boy knowing such a thing.

And now back to my restaurant review of CiCi's Pizza. That
place gets worse every time we go. So not only do they NOT
have cheese for the salad bar anymore, but they also don't have
mushrooms or broccoli. So my choice was sad-looking-garden-
salad-bagged-lettuce, or Romaine-only-with-no-cheese-or-anything
-else-mixed-in-Caesar-salad. There were not even any bacon bits,
just croutons. So my salad was lettuce with black olives and
green olives (which had NO pimentos in them I might add).

Because of my displeasure with the salad, I was wasteful. I only
ate the part of the pizza with topping. That'll learn 'em. (HEY!
I could use this for an episode of my sitcom!) HH did the same.
We had piles of crusts with only a couple bites eaten off them.
Because don't mess with Hillbilly Mom, CiCi. You won't win.
I will send you flying without a plane. Step off, sistah! I am not
filling up on that crust, because it is OH SO DRY and OH SO

The offspring prefer the noodles over the pizza, though #1 will
grab a couple pieces if they're just cheese. Hey! Maybe I should
have commanded them to make me a cheese pizza, and then
scraped it onto my salad! I'm a genius, I tell you. With an IQ
of almost 100. Anyhoo, CiCi's now only has the squiggly noodles
and not the straight noodles. Thank goodness they still had the
red and the white sauce, because #2 likes them mixed. And he
likes those cheesy breadstick kind of things. Maybe that's where
all the cheese has gone.

Overall, the experience was a 3 on a scale of 5, because at least
the kids ate a plateful, and #2 got his FREE because it WAS his
birthday. And the kids were entertained, and I spent $3 playing
that game where you shoot a ball at some little holes and won
2 small superballs and 3 sticky stretchy creature thingies that I
hate because they leave a greasy mark when the kids fling them
at the walls. Oh yes, do come visit the Hillbilly Mansion. Man.
That was $3 I could have spent on Powerball tickets.

Oh, and when I win...I will still finish out my year teaching the
DoNots. Because I'm that kind of gal.


Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Hillbilly Mom,
A big happy birthday to No.2 son. Your eating experience sounds like my daily diet here in Thailand. Oh I can't wait to be back home.
Oh sorry, this is all about you, and not about me, but go sue me.

12:52 AM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

Abby's boyfriend *Chance* got the whole class those sticky doohickeys for Valentine's Day. I like the kid and all, but if he keeps that crap up I might not let him date my daughter later. Those things are HORRIBLE!! They leave nasty greasy dirty smudges on the wall and that is just not acceptable at Diva Ranch or in the Hillbilly Mansion. (Because we live in such high falootin' abodes.)

I have eaten at CiCi's pizza once. That was enough. And as much as I hate Chuck E. Cheese, I'd rather go there any day over CiCi's.

I hate to break it to you, but you're going to have to split the lottery winnings with us because we're going to win, too. Of course, we didn't buy tickets this week and I honestly don't know if anyone won last night....but just in case they didn't...get ready to share!!

8:37 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Uh...from some of the things you people eat 'back home', I'm not so sure it would be an improvement. Like those tubes of Vegemite...WHAT exactly is that stuff? I think my HH would use it for grout in the tiles.

Wait a Thailand where they bury a fish in a pot on the beach, and then dig it up two weeks later and eat it? I think I saw that on Survivor, or Travel Sick, or that Anthony Bourdain show. Maybe you're R I G H T. That was OH SO HARD TO WRITE.

Since you didn't have a chance to buy tickets, we will wait until Saturday's drawing to win. I don't mind to share the pot with you. $180 million apiece will be fine.

My word verification was cextvrn. I interpret that as sex tavern. I bet you could make a lot of money with that kind of business. Not you, personally, Diva. But like in a "Martha Stewart says one can earn a colossal income by opening a chain of Sex Taverns" kind of way.

5:16 PM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

My dream has always been to open a sex tavern. Hillbilly Mom, are you PSYCHIC????

Agh, Vegemite. Just thinking about it makes me throw up a little in my mouth. When DivaMom went to Europe a few years ago she brought home some Nutella. GAG ME WITH A EUROPEAN SPOON!! Give me some Peter Pan peanut butter anyday.

10:23 PM  

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