"I Do What I Want!"
That's Hoop's line when I tell him he can't do something, like eating two Snickers bars in one sitting... or believing he can fly without the aid of a plane. In the case of the first scenario, I ended up chasing him around the house yelling, "I will smush it!" So he shut himself in the bathroom and yelled back, "I do what I want!" like an insolent kid. I'm having one of those days today. I don't feel like piecing together all these thoughts to form a coherent post. So I'm just going to ramble. Probably a lot. Because damn it, that's what I want. It's not considered "jumping the shark" if I warn you I'm doing it first, right?
Sunday afternoon, Hoop wrapped his face in one of my old bandannas and declared he was going to mow the lawn. Have I mentioned how much I love that riding lawn mower? I think it might be an aphrodisiac. An hour after Hoop started mowing, I went out with a cold glass of water and my camera. Hoop threw the mower in park when he saw me coming and started gesturing wildly with his hands. Little did I know, it was his pathetic attempt at gang signs. My boy, he's so white he's clear. "What?!" I screamed over the noise. I swear it looked like he was trying to tell me he'd lost his finger but that I shouldn't worry because it was only the tip of it.
When he realized I didn't have any idea what he was trying to do, he quickly cut off the machine, enabling me to see that he still had all of his digits. So of course, I didn't mention the fact that I thought we'd have to start calling him Stubby. Don't think that I wouldn't either. I had a dream last night that I went to use the bathroom at a bar and some chick wouldn't let me enter the stall. So I punched her between the eyes and it knocked her out. The dream ended when I couldn't decide whether I should run away or pee first. I've had punching dreams before, but the punches either never connected or my hand went through the target like jello.
Then again, I wasn't a badass at Wii boxing before.
My coworker just stopped me on my way to the coffee pot to ask if I had anonymously entered her into a muscular dystrophy challenge. Apparently, someone from work entered her without her consent. Now she's going to have to go downtown at her lunch next Wednesday and participate in a curbside fundraiser. If she doesn't show up, someone is going to come and "kidnap" her. Does anyone else find this kind of creepy? I'm all for a good cause. But, I like to choose when and what I'm rallying for. I also find it disturbing that my first thought was that this might be a trap. Possibly one put on by the Scientologists.
There are other things I could discuss with you, like the fact that Hoop's parents are both certifiably crazy (IMHO). <-- Stands for "in my humble opinion", not "I'm (a) ho". But really, who likes airing out dirty laundry on the net? Not me. No way. Have I mentioned that his Mom still hasn't gotten me the addresses for the people she wants to invite to the wedding? Now she wants us to bring all the stuff to her house this weekend so we (I) can work on it at her convenience. I hope someone gives me a gun as a wedding present... with silver bullets... and a self targeting mechanism, because Jebus knows I can't aim.
I won't even get started on Hoop's Dad; because no one likes to see me unleash the She-Hulk. She sucks the happy right out of the party. In other news, the A/C on my car is fixed. Yay for Hoop! I dropped my dress off at the local seamstress this weekend. Mom kept telling me how skinny I looked and I had to keep explaining that the corset I was wearing was redistributing my fat. If it wouldn't keep me from eating, or breathing, I might be coerced into wearing one every day. And, as a final note to this weird ramble/recap, I'm including a link to the funniest stuff on the web. Yesterday's edition was one of my all time favorites.
Labels: Your Momma Wears Army Boots