and THAT'S why we give up and eat a whole box of Ho-Hos!

Yeah, you can count me among the unwashed masses that routinely make unsuccessful attempts at fitness. So there.

I'm one of those that enjoys working or playing at something that is physically exerting and thereby getting my "workout" without actually calling it "exercise."  Working with horses or out in the yard or playing volleyball, those are the things I enjoy doing that give a pretty good workout while I'm having fun.  Last weekend me and Big Daddy spent 4 hours going through stuff from our old storage building, throwing stuff out, re-organizing and re-packing in new boxes, then lugging said new boxes up to the attic with its newly laid flooring.

4 hours.  Multiple 20 and 30 lb boxes. Temperature in the attic: 85°+.  All of that equals a lot of sweat and muscle participation.

Now, on top of that, I recently dusted off the old treadmill in an effort to shed a few pounds that sneaked up behind me when I wasn't looking.  And when I say "behind" I mean my ass.

So, for eight days straight I was walking (at a brisk pace, mind you) 1.5 miles on the treadmill.  Except the one day we spent working in the attic.  One the ninth day, with much positive anticipation, I happily marched myself over to the scale to weigh in and see how much havoc I had wreaked on those extra pounds.  I confidently expected to see many of them missing as a casualty of my determination and fortitude.

One pound.

WTH?  I can lose one pound WHILE I SLEEP!

But a dear friend (they'll say anything to make us happy, won't they?) told me, "It's cause you're building muscle . . . you're not going to see a drop in the scale."

Yeah.  Yeah, that's it. I'm muscling up.

STOP TALKING TO ME!

Here's the deal: At work, I don't like talking to people who have a problem that I cannot help them with.

If their problem is my responsibility, I am glad to help and happy to be of service in any way that I can.  But if someone has a problem and it is not within my scope of knowledge, the first thing I want to do is get them connected with someone who DOES know how to help them.

It pisses me off to no end to have someone say, "Yeah, this and that and that happened and what can be done about it?"

My response: "So-and-so is the one handling that matter, let me get them for you."

Them: "Well, such and such and this and that . . ."

Me: "Sir, I have no clue as to this situation. Let's get So-and-so since he is the one you need to talk to."

Them: "Well, more blah blah blah . . . . "

Me: "STOP TALKING TO ME!!!"

It is becoming more and more painfully obvious to me that I do not need to be interacting with the public in general.

To Be or Not To Be: Mental

Maybe some of you can commiserate with me. Or maybe I'm the lucky one and none of you have the vaguest idea about what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about kRaZy people.  Apparently I have received more than my quota and I would like to return a couple, thankyouverymuch.

I will be honest though.  For the most part, I can control the amount of kRaZy within my vicinity by simply limiting its access to me, my family, and our telephone numbers.  But there's always some kRaZy that slips through due to the sheer level of kRaZy involved.

I am related to kRaZy by marriage so . . . unless I am feeling like Big Daddy's usefulness has run out, I'm pretty much stuck with it.  If we're not putting out one psychological fire, we're putting out another.  And it is constant maintenance on relationships that kRaZy habitually gnaws on like old bleached out bones.  There is never a shortage of flammable material when kRaZy's around because if nothing is there, kRaZy just makes it up! Fun for all.

But there is an upside.  Whenever kRaZy doesn't elicit any kind of response . . . I know there is misery at kRaZy's house. And kRaZy isn't smart enough to do the math.

ooh . . . . look! More kRaZy heading this way!

Flashback: Kevin Fowler @ HarperFest

We traveled to Harper to see Kevin Fowler play a benefit concert for the Harper Community Park. It was totally worth the trip and I definitely want to see him again. He and his band sounded great and played for about 2 hours. Only bad thing was he didn't play "Get Along." Big Daddy is convinced that Kevin knows me and wrote that song about me. It's my theme song these days.

But let's get started, shall we?

I'm thinking the evening is going to be a winner all around when I score a front row parking spot right outside the park. That is until I tagged the tree when I was backing up. Perfect. Because right now I am working on trading up to a bigger truck and a jacked up tailgate always increases the trade-in value. Right, Ragina?

Anyhoo, I park it and leave it. Too late to worry about it now. Besides, there was a long ass line to get in to the park to see Kevin. Me and Big Daddy (being the brainiacs that we are) remembered to bring our big plastic adirondack lawnchairs to sit in. So we get in line with our big ass non-folding white chairs and start inching toward the gate. It takes for friggin ever because security is checking every ID - - Great. Mine was in the truck. Like 50 yards back. Screw it. I'll take the big ass black magic marker "M" on my hand if I have to. I ain't goin back for the ID.

So we finally get to the gate with cash and Big Daddy's ID in hand ready to transact. The security guy takes one look at our big white chairs and just waves us through. Oh yeah. Only old farts think to bring big plastic white chairs to a kick ass concert in the park. Take note, younguns. If you want to skate past security, just bring your lawnchair. It adds like 20 years to your appearance.

We get in, score some good real estate about 25 feet from stage right. Cool. All is good until Kevin comes out. Like a big dark cloud rolling through, the biggest guy and his biggest gal park they big asses RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. So we relocate to about 20 feet further stage right. Still a good view of the stage but closer to the speakers - yeow.

One highlight to the evening was when some drunk idiot decided to pick a fight with somebody in the crowd about 5 feet from the stage. Kevin stopped singing just long enough to humiliate the guy and tell him he was about to get his ass kicked by 2,000 of Kevin's buddies. Priceless. Nothing quite like having somebody like Kevin Fowler call you a dick over the load speakers.

After the show, we stood in line so I could get my picture with Kevin. Got it but I look seven kinds of WASTED so that one won't get posted. I may call Kevin and have him meet me at GlamourShots so I can get a decent picture of us together.

It's the least he can do.

COOLEST MOMENT OF THE SHOW: Kevin and his band starting playing the opening riffs to Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train" then started playing a rowdy version of "Loose Loud and Crazy"!

Whatever Makes Me Feel Good

Over on fb (facebook for those of you non-ADHD types who can actually wait to see what anyone is up to and you don't require instant gratification), a friend posted something about her husband's very special Valentine's Day gift to her.

He made a donation to her favorite charity in her honor.  I LOVE THAT!

We have been doing donations for our loved ones (adults and families, the kids still got some goods besides a Thank You for the donation card) at Christmas.  I mean, really.  At our age what could we possibly get that we don't already have?  Forget the big ticket items we all have on our "someday" list.  I'm talking about things that we really need or are reasonably nice that we would like to have.  Maybe I'm different but I don't like waiting for my birthday or anniversary to get what I want.  I get it when I decide I need to have it.  That part of my personality really pisses Big Daddy off. He says I ruin holidays for him. (Which is bullshirt because you can practically see the sparkles in his eyes when he's opening his own gifts.)

And in honor of Black Jack's (my Dad) 71st birthday yesterday, I made a donation to SPCA International for their No Buddy Gets Left Behind mission.  Black Jack lurves the puppy dogs.  And SPCA is very special to our hearts because our own Hanker Dawg was a rescue from the Hill Country SPCA in July 2002.  He is the second longest relationship Big Daddy has ever had. (First is me.)

So, the next time someone is celebrating a milestone or special occasion of any kind, a donation in their name to a worthwhile cause is ALWAYS a good choice.

Believe me . . . YOU'LL be feeling like the honored one.

Country Girl Movie Review

"Life as We Know It"

I wasn't expecting much from this movie - just the general romantic comedy with the always cute Katherine Heigl and the frat guy hottie Josh Duhamel.

But I was so wonderfully surprised.  It's a very straight to your heart kind of movie with its subject matter in that it reminds us that while tragedy happens, life moves on and that we are allowed to laugh again. I think as parents we all try to keep our minds from going down that path of "what if something happened to us?" I'm not going to spill any details but it is a great movie. Be prepared to laugh and cry.

Also, another reason to love the movie is fantastic soundtrack. It includes one of my all time favorites:

Common Sense = Anti-Education?

Although technically I don't have a dog in this hunt, I still have a very much loved sister-in-law whose family does. As do many other people.

The Austin ISD is looking to cut approximately 1,000 teaching positions and close 9 schools.  Keeping in mind that Texas (most especially the Austin/Houston/Dallas-Fort Worth metro areas) have been the recipient of the majority of out-of-state relocators and also keeping in mind that the AISD Superintendent salary is $350,000+ and the median AISD teacher salary is $38-42K, I find this a ludicrous resolution to AISD's
"emergency financial" situation.

When did gutting become the best answer to healing two broken legs?

Here's my thoughts, and we will also keep in mind that I am not proclaiming to be any kind of educational/ financial/mathematical czar:

First, let's start with that Superintendent salary.  Right off the bat I see about $200K that can be sliced right off the top there.

Second, I'm willing to bet that the majority of those 1,000 teachers would be agreeable to some type of "cut salary now, review the district's ability to bump it back up in ___ years." The same would go for benefits: get a higher deductible on the district's health insurance so the premiums would be lowered.

There are hundreds, possibly thousands of areas where the district could cut spending TEMPORARILY without having to fire teachers and close schools.  And it can start at the bottom.  Stop watering school lawns.  Big deal if the grass dies.  Ask teachers to turn out classroom lights if they have classrooms that are able to have a good source of natural daylight and turn on hallway lights only during class changes.  Encourage staff to keep paper usage to a minimum - save the paper for the students' schoolwork.  Staff memos and teacher information can be decimated via email or verbally. (I see a HUGE use of paper at my son's school - most of which hits our trash can.)

And this is just the little stuff.  The big stuff can come in the form of a moratorium on new construction and special projects, freeze hiring, etc.  But I don't think the answer is to fire hundreds of teachers and close schools. I really really don't.  I think it will be harder to recover from that kind of action than it would be to recover from hardline money-saving practices implemented temporarily.  And when I say temporarily, maybe best case scenario would be 1-2 years and worst case scenario would be 5-6 years.

I don't understand why the same principles that families are forced to apply to their dwindling budgets are not applied to government and business dwindling budgets.

It seems like it's all pretty much about dollars and sense.

Quote of the Day

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen." - - Ralph Waldo Emerson

My Snaggle Tooth Valentine

Last night was the Bear's Valentine concert at school. He was all decked out in his starched jeans, white shirt and red tie. He looked adorable.

And that smile?



Probably worth about $4 grand in orthodontics. oy

Flashback: Trent Willmon @ Gilley's Dallas

We made it to Gilley's Dallas on Saturday night to see Trent Willmon. He did a great concert and I'm glad I was able to enjoy it (partially) sober.

But let's start at the beginning. The club is in a great location just on the other side of I-35 from downtown Dallas. It was literally right around the curve from our hotel (Hyatt Regency - great stay!). Don't let the hookers and barred-window liquor stores put you off. This location is good because it is in a semi-industrial area so you're not trying to work your way through people traffic or fight the crowds to other clubs. The closest other club is about 2 blocks away in another warehouse. Very cool.

So we parked out back in a huge parking lot with no clue as to where the front door is. There is no front door - the front door is in the back. We should have gotten a good idea of the crowd when we walked past the old guy snoozing in the mini-van parked closed to Trent's bus. Hmmm.

Since Big Daddy seemed to be outweighed by the women walking in ahead of us, the club shoulda been called "Buffalo Stampede." His words, not mine.

When we walked in the dj was playing "Get Down Tonight." Okay. I vaguely remember the 70s when I was 4. Was that a good song back then? Cause it ain't a good song now.

Anyhoo, I'm just gonna tell it like it was. The talent* was piss poor. Not even mediocre. BUT that always makes for good fun for ME! We parked ourselves in front of a bar and about 20 feet from the stage/dancefloor. Perfect. We had a good view of Trent and at the same time we could watch the "All Humiliation Network" on the dance floor.

I would like to take this opportunity to extend my sympathy to Trent - I want him to know that he should in NO WAY view his Dallas Gilley's crowd (myself excluded) as any type of indicator as to the attractiveness of his fans. There was Amazon Chick with the wife beater tank top and big fake boobs (apparently to offset the big ass she was carrying around behind her). There was Fake Bake Doris (she had to be at least 50). There was No Groove Gonzo (big honkin nose and no sense of rhythm - so sad). And the fourth member of this lovely quartet was Cowboy Rosa (big hat, big hair, big boobs). And let's not forget the motley crew of badly dressed, badly accessorized, and just plain badly females that were in the place. Ooh. I almost forgot BB (Big Blondie) who never lacked for dancing partners - all of whom were half her size. Literally. Half as tall as her and half as wide. Them little fellas like 'em BIG.

It all got off to a fun start when Gonzo was dancing (and that term is used very loosely herein) and then decided to scootchy across the floor to her compadres for a little sippy sip. Make that slippy slip. Busted her ass right there in front of us. We knew right then it was going to make for a very entertaining evening. Trent didn't stand a chance of keeping our attention. I wish I had kept count of the number of times one of these lovely ladies sat unexpectedly on the dancefloor but there was just no way to keep track of everything. I'm only human for cryin out loud. I have the right to laugh so hard I can't see anything.

I feel very strongly that I need to share with everyone (who didn't have the good fortune to see it for themselves) the actual dancing styles we observed. The most popular of course being the "I'm so good everybody will think I'm a titty dancer just without a pole." Oh for the love of Mike! Almost all of these ladies (large or ugly - it didn't matter) seemed to think that they could dance like Demi Moore in "Striptease." It was like a trainwreck - I couldn't not watch.

This blog is getting entirely too long. So I'm going to try to wrap it up. Big Daddy made a new best friend. Some guy decided he wanted to buddy up. First he was a horse breaker, then he was a tequila shot record holder, then he was a sargeant with the Dallas Police Department. Poor Big Daddy - if there's an idiot in a village, they always find him. He's like a retard magnet. Again, myself excluded.

After the concert, we bough Trent's cookbook (with some killer recipes) and I had my cd case for him to autograph. Seeing as how I was too inebriated to meet and greet with Trent the last time I saw him, I was determined to meet him and get my dadgum picture with him this time. There was some chick with little red horns on her head that kept taking people's cameras from them (Trent's self-appointed official photographer?) and she was trying to put those horns on everybody's head that got their picture taken with Trent. Needless to say when she attempted to put them on me, I almost bitch slapped her back. "Get those things away from me." Big Daddy said a curse word under his breath and Trent looked at her like she was some kind of loser (maybe because she IS). I was fixin to go western on her if she didn't back the **** off. She got the idea when I took my camera away from her and handed it to Big Daddy's new best retarded friend to take the picture.

Got my picture, reminded Trent not to ride horses into bars without rubber shoes, got my picture with the drummer (TOTALLY reminds me of Animal from FraggleRock when he plays), and we headed out.

BUT NOT before Amazon Chick and Cowboy Rosa tried to cop a feel off Big Daddy. He got more boob action right then than in the past year. Just kidding. But they totally molested him. I just smiled.

The ending kicker to the evening was when we were walking out. Amazon Chick, Gonzo, Doris, and Cowboy Rosa were all sitting in the back of the mini van near Trent's tour bus. How sad. Because you know what their intentions were. I was scared. For Trent. Poor fella.

I hope he made it on the bus in one piece and was able to lock the door fast enough.

YEE HAW! Next roadtrip: Kevin Fowler in Helotes!

HEY! You AWAKE?!

You know how kids will sometimes display a certain trait from an older family member? They'll have the same sense of humor or the same smile, etc?

The Bear has many sweet traits, some of which he inherited from my late Mom.  He also inherited one of her more annoying traits.

If he's awake, then ER'BODY better be awake.

I remember being in high school and working a part-time job that did not get me home until 10pm, some times later.  During the week, I still had to get up and be at school the next morning.  So when Saturday mornings rolled around, I really really really looked forward to sleeping in for a few hours.  When left completely alone with my bedroom door closed, I could easily stay asleep until 10 or 11 a.m.

Or so I thought.  I never really got the chance to see how late I could actually sleep.

Because my mother would inevitably come banging into my room at 7:30a.m. to start mowing the vacuum cleaner around my bed! Or she would be just outside my window with the weed whacker. One time she even started testing the smoke alarms with the main one outside my door in the hallway.  The woman barely allowed the sun to rise before she commenced her racket-inducing activities.

The Bear is completely like his Gomey in that respect. He is an early riser (if he sleeps til 8 a.m. it is noteworthy) and once he is awake, he is full bore AWAKE.  And any sleeping that continues after he wakes up will be stopped immediately!

Apparently I am not destined to be a late sleeper despite my numerous attempts.

Prepare for the End, y'all!

During all of the hullabaloo last week when the majority of Texas was expecting ice and snow, I kept telling Big Daddy that people in the northeast states were probably shaking their heads at us.  Our entire state (except the Panhandle which is used to snowy weather) was pretty much preparing for lock down once the expected 1 to 2 inches of snow finally fell.

The northeast has been dealing with multiple FEET of snow yet it barely slows down traffic, much less statewide business.

A friend posted the attached picture on facebook.  Apparently someone at TxDOT has a wicked sense of humor.  The sign was somewhere on I-35 between Austin and San Antonio.

Super Bowl XLV: A Retrospective

Since neither me nor Big Daddy had any vested interest in the winner of this year's Super Bowl, we spent much of the game/show critiquing the entertainment/commercials.  Although I will say that I was kinda leaning towards the Pack simply because I have some northern cousins who are serious Cheeseheads. I like that it showed Favre that they don't need his waffling ass to make it to the Big Show plus WIN IT.

But I've kinda been rooting for Big Ben, too - - he took a serious beating in the media just for feeling up some hoochie.  When a chick files a civil lawsuit before she calls the cops, she hasn't been assaulted. Period. I make this statement after having lived in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex where I witnessed on more than one occasion how grasping females will do damn near anything to get their hands on (or at least get themselves in the line of sight of) a pro ball player. No wonder these huge guys had so many other unknown huge guys with them - the unfamous literally acted as a barrier to the famous. It was pathetic AND entertaining.

Anyways, for all the pre-grame anticipation, the commercials were so-so.  The one stand-out to me was the Darth/Volkswagen. LOVED IT. But maybe that's because I'm a mom to a 6 year old boy who loves his super hero/star wars/alien costumes.  He has a whole box in the bottom of his closet full of old Halloween costumes and some that we've just picked up off the clearance rack.  Just last night during the game he walked past us wearing his ninja costume with gloves and Broncos helmet.  We later found out he was watching "Buzz Lightyear's Star Command" and he was being Buzz.  If he's not jumping off the bed, he's jumping off the coffee table.  If he's not running through the house, he's dragging a 3 foot horse from "corral" to "corral."  And when he's not doing that, he's pooting in the dog's face.  And I thought Joan Rivers as the new Go Daddy Girl was hilarious. And the teacher driving the Camaro? Pretty awesome.

As for the halftime show, while Big Daddy was obviously impressed with Fergie and her dancing skills but complained about the music, I actually enoyed the TRON halftime show. And, being a big fan of Slash's mad guitar skrills, I was happily surprised to see him make an appearance. Fergie's attempt at a GNL classic? Really wish she wouldn't have done that.  I mean, we're all pretty much disenchanted with Axel Rose but there are limits to our contempt. And what the frak was on Will.i.am.'s head? Whatever it was you know it stank afterwards. Ewww.

Supermarket Aisle Rage

I have moaned and complained about the following issue almost every time I go to the grocery store that yesterday after my weekly grocery trip, Big Daddy said: "Blog about it."

Because we all know how blogging ultimately leads to resolution.

Here's my bitch: the majority of people who walk through the doors of our local food mart either leave all their manners at home or they never had any to begin with. As for the old folks, they apparently just used all theirs up because they are clean out, too.

If they're not parking their cart on one side of the aisle while standing in front of the shelves on the OTHER side of the aisle (thereby blocking the whole width of the aisle), then they are riding your ankles with their cart because you are shopping at a slower rate of speed than they feel is necessary.  Uh, sorry.  I didn't realize I'd signed up for Survivor: H.E.B.

Yesterday while I was in the frozen food section, I opened a freezer door to grab a couple of bags of broccoli and carrots. While I was BENT OVER some old lady pushes her cart right up against my ass so that once I stood up, I COULD NOT close the door without her backing up.  I literally turned in a circle to face her and gave her look like, "WTH? Do you mind?"  She ROLLED her eyes, huffed a breath, then pulled her cart back so I could get out and close the freezer door.

Un-freaking-believable. And those old shits expect us to treat them with respect.

I'll do the Parenting, You do the Teaching

Some folks out there may disagree with me on this particular issue but hey! I'm used to being disagreed with. Whatever.

I have been lucky to have close friends and family members who are teachers.  All of them have made the same comment at one time or another: "It is not my job to raise these kids!  It is my job to TEACH them."

I couldn't agree more.

Okay, so now we have a Bear in the first grade.  He is a kid who likes to socialize and participate in extracurricular activities.  We do t-ball, soccer, and karate (but not all at the same time of year) so he keeps pretty busy after school hours.

Every single school day except Fridays, he comes home with a folder full of "homework."  I don't have a single thing against homework.  I think it is very important that we as parents be involved in what he is learning and interact with him on schoolwork.  But here is where my aggravation comes in. This homework takes us upwards of 45 minutes to an hour to complete every school night.  HE'S IN FIRST GRADE!

If it only took us 15-20 minutes every evening to go through it and practice his words and spellings and math sums, I would not have a problem at all.  But on a regular day after I get off work and pick him up at daycare, we have karate/soccer/or baseball then we get home to eat dinner, clean up the kitchen, get his bath, and then time for him to go to bed at 8:30.  In the middle of all this, we might have 1/2 an hour to spend on homework.  It makes me mad because I did not sign up for homeschooling but the amount of homework they send home every day is ridiculous.

And I would really hate to do this as a single parent with more than one kid. Maybe even with more than one job.

I am not a bad parent because I want my kid to have some time to wind down and play for a little while when he gets home from his long day.  He likes to draw pictures A LOT and he likes his super heroes and his guitar.  I know his daily schedule at school.  From 7:50am until 3:30pm they get a total of 45 minutes to eat their lunch and play on the playground (weather permitting).  If the weather is crappy, they go back to their classrooms and find something to do (so long as it is not loud and 22 six-year-olds are unable to work off some physical energy).  During all those daylight hours at THE INSTITUTION OF LEARNING, I expect him to be learning and being taught by *GASP* his TEACHERS!

Because *ALSO GASP* they expect me to be parenting him properly at home so that he is not a disruption to their classrooms.

I'm doing my job but I really wish I could do less of their job.

Finally! Some Cold Weather I Can Get On Board With!

We hit 14° last night and so far today we are sitting at a balmy 21°.

I LOVE THIS COLD WEATHER!!!

I just wish it had some snow with it.  I loves me a couple of feet of frozen precipitation.  My truck on the other hand.  Not so much.  I left work yesterday and cranked it up.  I knew it was close to 19° or 20° so when the digital thermostat registered 25° I figured it would drop once the truck had been running for a few minutes.

Nope.

Twenty minutes to get home and it stayed right there at 25°.  Apparently the truck was protesting the cold weather and was not going to register one more single degree.

But after a nice cozy night in the garage, the truck stat showed 17° this morning on the way in.  I'm still wearing my gloves as I type this post.  ;o)

Flashback: City Trippin'

Even though the Trent Willmon concert and our excursion to Gilley's Dallas was the purpose of the trip to town this past weekend, there were other highlights to our visit to the big city.

First, seeing as how we live down a dirt road surrounded by dirt and pretty much dirt is big part of our lifestyle, I really wanted to get the truck detailed. The biggest reason being that I could pay somebody to do it while I kicked back and ate me some Krispy Kremes. Yes, I said Krispy Kremes.

We pull up to a fairly well known establishment and I tell the greeter guy, "Hey greeter guy, give me the daily special." Okay, here's where me and greeter guy apparently have a separating of the minds. While I'm thinking $24.99 daily special (taking into consideration I'm driving a truck and there's a $5 surcharge for trucks - whatever), greeter guy is thinking a little bigger in the money department.

First he starts of his spiel with, "Well, you got alot of mud on the nerf bars and undercarriage and then I see you have alot alot alot of bugs up front and with that grill guard that's gonna take some time and the auto wash ain't gonna be able to get all that so what we're talkin about here is a hand pre-wash and then run it through the auto wash and then we'll need to probably shampoo those floor mats cause you got alot alot alot of dirt and stuff in there but I'll knock off the shampoo charge if you want to go ahead and do the hand wash."

Did I just buy a condo in Miami? I'm not sure what just happened but okay - hook me up, greeter guy!

He starts writing up the Wash Order Request, Big Daddy unloads the kid and kid stuff and magazines and newspapers, while I unload myself and the Krispy Kremes.

Greeter Guy hands my ticket and quite honestly, I didn't want to look at it. Just go in and pay it - rip it off like a bandaid. Cashier Girl rings me up: $75 BUCKS!!! Okay, so rip a bandaid off a bullet wound. Jeez loooo-weez!

Of course, Big Daddy is about to stroke out. $75 DOLLARS?!!!?? Are you totally and completely SH***ING ME!!??? So I start trying to negotiate with him - "Honey, this truck never gets washed and when we lived in the city we spent $30 a week getting our cars detailed. It's not like we're going to spend a total of $100 washing this truck all year. Chill out."

So while he's getting his blood pressure back under control our little one is enjoying watching the cars and trucks go through the auto wash. Cars and trucks and cars and trucks. But not our truck. So where is it?

104 MINUTES LATER . . . they bring our truck back around. It looks good. Not $75 great, but good enough. Then I get in. There is dust on the dash. What the ****? $75 FLIPPIN DOLLARS AND I STILL HAVE DUST?? ARE YOU SERIOUSLY KIDDING ME??!!?

Smirkily Big Daddy says, "Yeah, and did you see the wheels?"

But you know what? I'm okay with it. You know why?

Because my kid left a big fat green booger on their waiting room floor.

Karma. It'll bite you every time.