Yeah well…there it is. Sarcasm and cynicism laid thick like a coat of tar on top of a fresh asphalt road. Perhaps third shift is a good thing for Terry right now, because he’s sound asleep and even tho I am feeling quite a bit like going to the firing range and unloading some (money) at a paper target, I will be quiet and keep still (ish) so he can sleep because in my heart of hearts I am actually a (relatively) decent person (with an abiding fondenss for parenthetical statements).
*this is the beauty of blogging. no editors.*
This morning I woke up feeling kind of…well…sarcastic. Like everyone in the world is a handy target. Fortunatetly #4 knows how to handle it and can dish it out as effectively as I can. On the way to school he asked me
“Mom, would you ever want to arm wrestle yourself?”
and I answered “No, because I’d lose.”
and he said “….”
Then he said “Yeah, I tried to play checkers with myself and lost, too. It was annoying.”
I love my children. They will be able to handle just about any situation with wit and grace, because they had me for a mother. Not that I can handle any situation with wit and grace…but because they will be well versed in disarming people verbally.
Ham. Dear Lord, I want some ham. Not that nasty deli sliced chopped stuff either, but a whole delicious Smithfield smoked ham, roasted in the oven and sliced thick, served on hot crusty rolls with a thick slather of butter. Ok that had nothing to do with this post but there it is. Ham on a buttered roll. Yes please.
You know another thing that happened this morning? It was weird. Practically half the people I passed on the way to taking #4 to school waved at me. Not just the typical Southern 2-finger lift off the steering wheel that says “I don’t know who you are but I’m Southern and this is what we do”, but the whole-hand-wave w/eye contact that says “I know who you are and want to acknowledge your existence because I think you’re cool and I like you!”…that kind o wave, like you wave to your cousin when you pass them on the road and you know if you don’t wave they’ll tell everyone in the family you ignored them. Only, I don’t have any cousins here. In fact, my fan base is quite limited. All these people were waving at me, mostly grown men in pickup trucks and I’m going “Hiiii!” and waving back whilst thinking “who the heck are you?” but I don’t want to be rude in case I do actually know them and am just suffering early morning caffiene deficiency and not recognizing them. But I could see that happening once, because I know…like…ONE person who might be out that time of day in his truck and might wave at me (Hi Arthur!~~) but this happened 6 times on the way to school…I DON’T KNOW 6 MEN IN TRUCKS IN THIS TOWN! Terry opined that they were flirting with me, but it wasn’t a “Hey Sexy!” wave, it was a “HEY I KNOW YOU HOWAREYA WHENYAGONNA HAVEME OVERFER SUPPER AGIN?” kinda wave. plus Terry is the only one who ever goes “hey Sexy” in a wave anyway. Maybe I should invite Arthur over for supper again, just in case it was him and I ddn’t recognize him. There was a guy in a white Ford truck who waved…and he has a white ford truck,but then so does 50% of everyone else in this town.
Anyway, I am undecided about this mood. If I should stick with writing or actually go to Prayer Group at noon. The fear about Prayer Group is that we’re supposed to listen and be empathetic to each other’s probems but I am about as empathetic as Yosemite Sam right now. So we’ll see.
Because it really is personal... 
rofl. Go to prayer group. Let them see all your facets. That’s how friendship -and real fellowship- grows.