Gaining Another Mighty Fine Son-In-Law

And sometimes I have completely joyful days.  I ran to a nearby yard sale, a Thursday one, in a lush neighborhood as it was billed as an estate sale.  Folks lining up waiting to get in, jostling each other, I held back as usual, always armed with a deep conviction that if I need it, it'll be there.  Heckfire, it's just stuff.

Indeed, inside the lovely house in which everything was being sold, I just marveled at the house itself while I wandered admiringly through it, being elbowed by folks grabbing that which they wanted.  In the garage, I found a wrought iron basket container with my favorite garden tools, hand rakes and trowels, for 50 cents each.

$7 later I walked out very happily.

Doing all my chores, fixing supper before lunch, knowing I wouldn't be home at 5 p.m., but also knowing the food best be ready as my young'uns come barreling in the house at 4 acting completely famished, I was answering phone calls and doing paperwork, all so I could rush out the door at 4 to get to the next county over for Deysi's wedding to Jaime at the courthouse, right after yet another fascinating therapy session with Dr. Mandy.

Deysi's two birth sisters, Saray and Marcela, met us there for a quick, painless and lovely wedding, and once again I have a new member of our family.  His entire family is in Mexico, so he's stuck with all of us.  "Just what we needed,"  JoJo cracked, "Another Mexican."

Well I totally approve, they've been together some five or so years.  I'm happy for them both. Deysi's my first child, if you can call a 36 year old a child, to have a second marriage.

In the 1980's I'd done my first sibling adoption of three young girls, now 31, 34 and 36 years old.  The group of three grew into 12 with their three husbands and 6 children amongst them: Heidi, Gianni, Isaac, Marissa, Ellie and Alexander.  Our exponential growth, via marriages and grandchildren, has been stunningly impressive.

Here's to the next 25 years together girls...

JoJo also acted up later at the park hollering at me during Tabby's game, "Why won't you tell me who my real father is?" all dramatically as if he'd just learned he was adopted.  The other moms of kids on Tabby's league all had adorable little girls who had matching socks and elaborate hair bows, all young, sweet, and darling, while I had a half a dozen, towering, hulking teenagers barking coaching orders on the fields to Tabby...and my resident clown, JoJo, who absolutely can NOT force himself to act right in public.

He'll fart loudly and then yell even louder, "Gross, Mom, stop eating so many beans."

He's really hard to ignore, and I'm even less able to not bust out laughing at his shenanigans.

"Are they twins?" I'd asked Martin in regards to two girls, both impressive players, on the opposing team with ponytails and striped ribbons.

"No, Mom," Martin sighed at my ignorance, "All the girls on that team fixed their hair the same way and had the same ribbons."  I suppose a show of solidarity? I'm not necessarily observant, usually focusing on keeping my kids corralled.

JoJo, of course, yelled loudly for all the other moms to hear, "Great, Mom, now you think all white people look alike?  How racist can you be?"

I threatened quietly, in Spanish, to shoot him, an idle threat as I don't own a firearm.  He's so fast on his feet, retorting in a loud voice, "Say that threat in English why doncha Mom? You're gonna shoot me, right?  Here in the park? I see the Deputy's car out on the highway, do I need to go get her?" Laughing his narrow butt off at my embarrassment, rolling on the ground, doing somersaults like a monkey while still yelling everything to everyone.

By then the other moms had edged their chairs farther away from us, Allen and JoJo'd also been wrestling and calling each other inappropriate names - our behavior challenges clearly evident.

I'd barely made it back home from Deysi's sweet wedding in time to pick up JoJo and Sabrina from the high school, wiggling out of my own monkey suit, trying to change quickly into soccer spectator clothes which greatly and suspiciously resemble my pjs, while hollering at my U10 and U17 teams to grab their crap, "Let's GO!" I was bellowing while stuffing my face with crackers and hummus.  Grandma'd fed and babysat my other kids after school.

Allen's U17 team was short three superb players, yet Allen managed to score another five goals, but they still lost by one.  His skills blow me slap away.

Our favorite deputy, Officer Kandy, who knows 'em all from teaching the D.A.R.E., now called C.H.A.M.P.S., translated into CHUMPS by my ridiculous family,  classes at the elementary school tried to sneak up and prank me, but Tabby blew her cover, pointing her out.

Kandy'd been asking the park staff, "Where are the Bodies?" while reassuring staff that no one was in trouble as she was in uniform, finishing her shift and coming to watch the boys 7:30 game.  They were happy, but kinda subdued, by her presence - well except for JoJo who threw himself on the ground after the game with his hands behind his back in an arrest me position.  He's such a goof.

Kandy's very tiny, likely she couldn't see over all the other kids to our very loud, usually obnoxious, constantly in motion pile of brown people with a frazzled old white lady on the sidelines.  The Bodies are right visible.

Thank you Lord for such a nice day.

Thank you Kandy, for supporting my family.  You impressed the snot out of 'em even if they won't show it, I know it.

Again a big ole congratulations to Deysi and Jamie (and her Hollywood sisters) on their marriage.  He's a good, solid, hard-working man.