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Here I sit, on the couch un the badly decorated living room with my children, who are watching a show on Spike called Extremely Lucky Dudes. It’s guys who crash and burn and live to tell about it. Okay.
As for me, I am craving cheetoes. that means just One Thing, which I won’t go into great detail about it as my kids read this sometimes and would be terribly embarrassed. Suffice to say that it happens on a lunar calendar and only to girls between 12 and 60. Coke is good, too (the liquid, not the powder).
My biggest hope right this minute is that, when Sweet Daddio walks through the door with a requested bag of crunchy Cheetoes, I can whine quietly and be sent to bed. that would be best, for I Am Tired.
SD knows how to handle me, the 3 or 4 days every month when I grow facial hair and fangs and threaten to eat the children with a side of cornbread. One word: tranquilizers. Prescription strength, frequently and often. Good man, that psychiatrist of mine. He has a wife and children and understands the feminine requirement for lunar phase administration of psycho-active chemicals. For those of you in Metter: strong drugs during That Time Of The Month.
I have other reasons for being tired, but the hormonal fluctuations are exacerbating the situation. I won’t go into them too deeply, as involved persons haven’t given me permission to make them public, but suffice it to say a child is involved and I’d give my dentist and orthodontist approved eyeteeth to carry the load.
The good news is: this New Town has a really good restaurant! This is important to me, as there are certain foods I love but lack the skill to prepare. The Blue Moon is it’s name, and they have this appetizer that I’m working up the courage to order 3 of just for me, never to share. It’s a tower made of crispy fried wonton wrappers, chopped avocado and ginger, and raw tuna drizzled with sesame oil and sprinkled with chopped cilantro. Oh man, is it good. Fish makes me nervous, when it comes to preparing it, and raw fish even more so. They also prepare some tasty scallops, crab cakes, and grrrrroupah.
Last weekend we went back to the Old Town and did some work on the Old house. The basement floor was stripped with one of those rotary machines- the ones you see on shows aimed at the 18-30 yr old male audience- they put a blond on the machine and watch her whirl and jiggle. SD, because he’s Big and Strong and Ever So Much a Guy, did the honors and the floor looks brand new. We also painted the walls and trim and now the whole basement looks brand new. The yard was given a haircut and a manicure and now we wait breathlessly for someone to come along and decide they can’t live anywhere else. Anyone want to buy a a really nice, freshly painted house? Lots of room, nice fenced yard, lovely blooming shrubs and a totally cool playhouse on stilts in the back.
SD is home, I am now in possession of a big ol’ bag of crunchy cheetoes, and am preparing my argument about Why Rootie Should Be Sent To Bed. I’ll try and soften the blow by getting the coffee made for tomorrow. Dinner is already cooked: jambalaya from a box.
