Oh my goodness, what a wild, wild, ride raising 21 sons, all handsome, opinionated, and completely unique. The screen saver on my phone is still the one Yolie'd taken that day with me hugging Jesse so happily. It just makes me smile to see it. Two tours in Iraq, yet in Georgia, at age 30, he reverts to Bubbadom. It's a super contagious condition, there's no vaccination on earth that could defeat it.
Knowing I've had an extraordinarily tough week, Daniel was reminding me of how many, no rather how few, days there are until Opening Day. Even more exciting is an upcoming event I don't dare discuss for fear of jinxing it, but it, of course, involves some Braves. Hopefully Jason Heyward.
"WAH!" I'd hollered suddenly at supper, appearing deep in thought. "I don't have a Jason Heyward shirt!"
"Dang, Mom," Lily'd pointed out, jumping a mile at my outburst. "You sound like a crazy little girl Justin Bieber groupie."
Lily just doesn't understand baseball. I'll wear my 50 cent from a yard sale Chipper Jones shirt. Daniel's wife, Megan, is gonna be in charge of making me behave that day, as Daniel'll be working. Good luck with that , Megan. She knows what she's up against.
My hens are shooting out eggs, nearly a dozen a day lately. I made scrambled egg sandwiches on whole wheat sub rolls, pepper jack cheese, various choices of chiles, mixing up some three dozen eggs in my largest black cast iron skillet with olive oil. Lily and I ate leftover pasta from the night before, eschewing the animal products happily, making fruit smoothies for dessert, heavy on the bananas with chia seeds and hemp seeds.
We're under a wintry weather advisory - chances of sleet and an icy rain which makes all the sweet Southerners immediately and automatically wreck their cars, all fender benders, littering the landscape with vehicles slung skiddingly into ditches. They they get out of their cars wearing shorts and t-shirts, shocked at the power of icy conditions.
"Stay home!" the weather forecasters are hyperventilating on the news as if anyone's gonna mind them. The sky is falling! The sky is falling!
First day all week that I'm not dreading something or another, today I can stay home and play catch up.
Seven of us pitched in to help Nando at the last minute do a science fair project, you spend so much time decorating the tri-fold board that the science part seemed extraneous. I sure had hollered aloud at the price of the board last week at the hobby shop. Tabby'd needed clay, glitter glue, and other materials for hers, spending nearly $50 to get out of the store amped up my blood pressure. Lord have mercy, I hate shopping.
Boss took Scotty out for ice cream last night after supper. The temperatures falling, Scotty wearing shorts since he wears them 99.99% of the time. Except predictably in the above picture. Oppositional Defiant Disorder at work. It's how we roll, I've grown accustomed to it, barely registering each example anymore.
Allen tried convincing me that his innate hotness factor, ya know, being so handsome, would make up for not even wearing a jacket to school today, preferring to show off his muscles in a tight t-shirt.
He's 17 1/2, how does a mom force a kid to dress appropriately? If I pushed the issue, he'd melt down and wreck his own school day. Better to just let him learn about logic and coldness the hard way. He's already texted me 12 times in the last 30 minutes, he's terribly uneasy when I've verbally corrected his behavior.
It's just the way it is. His future wife's gonna need a handbook of details. "Good luck with that," I'm gonna tell her.
A quick text argument with a former husband about a 40 year old kid of ours, really? We're still arguing? We weren't mad, probably both of us just wishing texting had been invented way back when. Such dinosaurs we are, he's already 60 years old, I'm still a baby at 58 1/2.
And is Nando not the cutest 11 year old son on earth? I sure think so.