Memorial Day is just around the corner and the little community pool will be opening. My boys have looked forward all winter to the day when we will all put on our bathing suits, grab the floaties, and troop over to the pool for a good time. I even bought a brand spanking new maternity swimsuit for the summer knowing I would never hear the end of it till they could go swimming at least 50 times. As I ponder about the wait in line just to get in the door this year, I think back on the time last summer when we had to stand behind a few teenage girls. *Pause for a huge sigh here.* These days girls have their cell phones attached to their ears and they are constantly chattering on the phone or to their friends standing in line with them. They all had deep tans and attitudes that said, "I'm sooo hot." Gag me with a spoon. They were constantly turning toward the back of the line to see all the newcomers and get themselves noticed. I stared daggers into their backs and promised that the next time they turned around making a nuisance of themselves, I would strangle them with my son's floatie. As I am thinking about how much I don't like teenage girls, a bird decides to land on my shoulder. I immediately panicked. I screamed bloody murder all the while flapping my hands on my shoulder and hair, turning in circles only to finally realize the bird was gone and probably left my shoulder at the first scream. I stopped to calm down and looked with dread over at the cancer girls. They were staring at me as if I had lost my mind. They didn't even see the bird land on my shoulder, so they probably thought I was schizophrenic. I look down at the boys staring up at me and lamely said, "There was a bird on my shoulder." They calmly said, "Oh," and went back to being bored waiting for the line to move. I moved back into position wishing I could disappear into thin air. This summer, I will be keeping my eyes peeled for that bird with my son's water gun strapped to my hip.
Doc and I have actually been tweeking with the idea of going on a date. I know. Totally weird. Not the idea of doing something romantic. It's the idea that we actually might have the guts to dump our offspring on some unsuspecting person. This has always been a hard decision for us to make. I mean, we do watch the news and let's face it, we're paranoid. That's probably why we haven't been on a real date that didn't include scarfing down our food as fast as we can and running back home to see if it's still standing and no one is bleeding. Just the other day, I asked Doc, "So, are we going out for Chinese tonight?" I was crossing my fingers mentally, chewing on my lip. I so wanted to be irresponsible. We haven't been on a date in forever and I was craving Chinese like crazy. I suggested that our 13-year-old son get a chance to hold down the fort for a couple hours. I even turned on my sexy voice and said, "We'll have our cell phone with ...
Comments