Great weekend, rainy weekend. Caleb is feeling better and he borrowed the neighbor’s lawn mower Friday afternoon. Did the entire yard in 3 hours–a small fraction of the time it normally takes. Awesome.
My stomach hurts like the dickens.
The kids are driving me crazy. It’s one thing after another with Cheyenne these days. Cell phone? Confiscated. Got it taken away initially because she was texting after bedtime. Now? She’s been getting a few "inappropriate" texts (read: "SOUPA SALTY IN MA PANTS!") from some kid in her grade, and I just don’t know when she’s getting it back.
I’m a crotchedy old man when it comes to 13 year-olds and technology. Cell phones are the devil and texting is the gateway to hell. In my day, we passed notes–wholesome notes…full of cusswords and inappropriate comments like "SOUPA SALTY IN MA PANTS!" In my day, we listened to good clean music like Dr. Dre and Snoop Dog–none of this "Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips" crap that the kids are crazy about now.
I thought I had at least one more year of peace and quiet until the teenager hit the fan. Now it looks like Cheyenne will be keeping me busy until 2014–just in time for Mia to step into the spotlight (thus making it possible for Merrick to get away with murder.) See how this works? You do? Well I don’t. But I wish I did. I wish I had seen it back when we started having all these fun kids. Oh yeah, they’re great under the age of 5. They’re cute and cuddly and all they do is love you and worship the ground you walk on. At 8, they’re tolerable and entertaining. And then…well, you see how it works.
I love my kids. I love my kids.
Thursday night is PTO night with a themed-twist: everyone brings yummy cookies. I fully supported the idea until I remembered that I CAN’T COOK. I can’t even make Tollhouse taste good. So I’ll do what I do best: arrange store-bought cookies lovingly on a platter and pass them off as my own. "Oh, the recipe? Why didn’t I write down the recipe? I simply forgot! So busy baking, you know. Had flour and sugar all over the place–the dogs had a field day! Merrick was covered in chocolate! Mia got salmonella from eating the raw eggs in the batter! Ha ha ha! Bless her little heart! Happens everytime I bake cookies. In my own home. In the stove–the oven? Oh, yeah, cookies fresh from the oven. Yum! No, no recipe. I’ll get it to you some other time. Actually, it’s a secret family recipe. So, no, I can’t share it. Now shutup and eat the cookies that I’ve worked so very hard on all day."