Costco

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I have voted Costco the store “most likely to have the most useless crap I don’t need, yet which I buy anyway.”

Who’s with me on this??

I mean, you go in for laundry detergent, paper towels, and maybe some bananas (but only if they’re mostly yellow – it’s too annoying to WAIT for completely green bananas to turn yellow and then, once they do, have to quickly gobble up 10 of them in two days).

And you come out one-hundred-fifty dollars poorer with high-end face lotion (that will finally, FINALLY make you look younger!), a dozen frozen steak-and-cheese burritos (which the kids LOVED during sample time, but which they will decide they don’t like AT ALL after you make the first one at home.  And then the burritos will sit in the freezer for two years until they’re all frost-bitten and expired, at which point you throw out 11 of them) and two boxes (8 in each box) of solar garden lights because they were $10 off!

But not this time Costco.  Oooohhh noooooo.  Not this time.

During yesterday’s trip – I came, I saw, and I conquered.  I ONLY bought what was on my list.   Along with an under-$10-lunch for the kiddos and me.

And there may have been ONE unexpected side purchase for $29.99, but in the long run it will save me money.  In fact, it will save me so much money I’m now calling it “my master plan” and I’ve been patting myself on the back ever since because the whole thing is brilliant!  BRILLIANT!  If I do say so myself.

What could it possibly be??

A Wahl Deluxe Complete Haircutting Kit.  And while “deluxe” and “complete” seem a little over the top slash redundant, I’m totally psyched I got it so inexpensively!

I’m gonna use it on Sonny, whose hair grows like a weed and is the bushiest thing you ever saw and which needs to be trimmed every 4 weeks otherwise it resembles really nasty dolly hair.

And?  AND??  (this is where the “master plan” comes in)  I’m gonna use it on the dog!  At 50 bucks a pop for grooming-which-ALSO-needs-to-be-done-every-4-weeks-just-like-Sonny’s-hair, I WAS gonna go broke.  But NOW?  Now, with a-one-time-only cash outlay of $29.99 plus tax I get the following benefits:

  • Self-sharpening, high-carbon steel blades (which stay sharp longer!)
  • Guide combs (help you get the exact length you want!)
  • Large deluxe storage case
  • And Premium Pro Style Shears (bonus!)
  • PLUS a special value free, downloadable home haircutting how-to guide

But wait!  There’s more!!  There’s an easy step-by-step full color instruction booklet which ACTUALLY SHOWS SOMEONE CUTTING REALLY BAD DOLLY HAIR!  (There aren’t any pictures of people cutting dog hair, but pay that no never mind.  I can wing it since this whole kit makes me practically a pro.  PLUS I know how my dog should look, so I have that going for me.)

Honestly, I can’t wax poetic ENOUGH on this.  Here’s the list of the actual items included in the kit:

  • multi-cut clipper [which means this is mostly automated cutting.  Not that olde-tyme manual cutting which takes so much time and is so fraught with error]
  • clipper blade guard [so neither the cut-ee nor the cut-er will get hurt]
  • detail trimmer [we all know the devil is in the details!]
  • trimmer blade guard [so neither the cut-ee nor the cut-er will get hurt when the devil is in the details]
  • 1 AA Duracell battery [could I take this with me?  On the road??]
  • 11 inch soft storage case [why yes, yes I CAN take it with me on the road!]
  • cleaning brush [to clean up IN BETWEEN the boy and the dog.  Hey!  At least I’m not doing the DOG first]
  • blade oil
  • shears
  • styling comb
  • barber comb [what’s that?  How is that different from a regular comb??]
  • eight clipper guide combs – from a Number 1 (1/8 inch) all the way up to a Number 8 (1 inch)

And in addition to the eight guide combs, I also get a left ear taper and a right ear taper.  I think tapers mean candles.  But what candles have to do with left and right ears I’m not 100% sure.  Unless we’re now branching out into those ear candles?  Have you seen those??  They “eliminate” ear wax from your ears.  So that must be it.  I can cut hair AND clean ears while I’m at it.  I hadn’t thought of that originally, but that seems like an excellent addition to “my master plan.”  I mean, really, while you’re there, you might as well get it all done, right?

Gosh.  This is SUCH a great plan.  It’s all gonna go so, so well.  I can just tell.  [pat, pat, pat]

‘Fer the birds

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High drama in the a.m. yesterday…

The kids discovered a bird sitting and shaking on our back patio.  He looked like a goldfinch, only a bit more brown.  So maybe a Colorado goldfinch?  (How do I know about ‘dem goldfinches?  I’m from New Jersey – where the Goldfinch is the state bird.  No, I am NOT bustin’ yer chops.  Me and my cousin Vinny know from state birds).

I suspected he ran into the sliding glass door, but from the look of the backwards foot & bright red eye on its right side, it had WAY more wrong than a run-in with the sliding glass door could account for.  And with the 90 degree heat beating down on him, he was fading fast.

To Sissy, the girl who wants to be a vet, this was the opportunity of a lifetime.  She sprang into action – poking holes in a shoebox, lining it with paper towels and adding a smidge of water in the lid of an old spaghetti jar for good measure.  The final step was hoisting the bird up-and-in but I insisted she put on some disposable craft gloves (beat THAT, Martha Stewart!!) to stand between her and a possible case of avian flu.

Mission accomplished and the hubby and kids flew out of the house (tee hee hee – pun intended.  Get it?  FLEW?!??  Beat THAT, Martha Stewart!!!)  on their way to the Bird Rescue.

Per the kids, the final report from Bird Rescue was:

  • The bird was a male, lesser goldfinch [interesting]
  • He had a head injury – most likely from running into in the patio door, thus the red eye and snaggle foot [bad]
  • There was a herd of MASSIVE squirrels (and a HUMONGO crow) on the Bird Rescue premises [Also bad.  Very bad.  I’m pretty sure I know where all of the birds “go” that don’t survive their head injuries.  And it’s NOT fed to the…uh…FISHES, New Jersey Style, if ya know what I mean wink, wink.]
  • I knew all of this already.  I didn’t need no stinkin’ Bird Rescue to tell ME what’s what!  [‘cept for that part about the squirrels.  And the crow.  That’s just weird.  But when you’re located in Colorado and lack for water – and “fishes” – you’s gotta get creative, if you’s know whadImean.]  That’s just a roundabout way of saying that I could TOTALLY get a job at Bird Rescue.  In fact, I’m going to put them down as one-of-my-5-requisite-job-resources which the Emergency Unemployment Office makes me note weekly.  [good!]

Sleepytime

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Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime.  Summertii-iiiiiime!

Or as I sing it: sleepytime, sleepytime, sleep-sleep-sleepytime.  Sleepytii-iiiiiime!

Because you know why?  Ya know what?  Ya know WHO??  Who didn’t get the memo about sleeping late now that it’s summertime?!?

THE DOG!

He still wakes up at 5:45 every morning.

Which means I wake up at 5:45 every morning.  There may be some loud-talking (even Mean Mom knows that it’s too early for yelling) “encouraging” the dog to go back to bed.

That never works.

So then the plan becomes keeping the dog up LATE so that he sleeps LATE.

But THAT really only works in the movies.  Here in the real world, I find I’m so exhausted from all my running hither and yon to various SPORTS activities — and from something else.  Now what was it?  What was it again??  Oh!  THAT’S RIGHT!  FROM GETTING UP SUPER EARLY!!! — that by 9:30 pm I’m falling asleep on the couch and only waking up when my Nook crashes into my mouth for the umpteenth time.  [I am NEVER going to get through this Game of Thorns series.  (THORNS??  Really, Sweetie?!?)  I have three THOUSAND pages left and only two weeks to read them in.  And even if I hammer-down on the reading, I’d have to read 200+ pages per day.  It’s hard, really hard, to read that much with your eyes closed and your lip all bloody.]

And then?  Then the Nook misses my lip and clocks the bridge of my nose instead and I decide it’s not worth it.  And I stumble off to bed.  Screw the dog and his early-to-bed-early-to-rise nonsense.  It would be one thing if it were making ME healthy, wealthy and wise.  But it’s not.

So SCREW IT!  And the dog.  AND the early-morning horse he rode in on.

Because it’s sleeeeepy tiiiiiime [getting sleepy] sleeeeeeeeeeeepy tiiiiiimmmmme [getting VERY sleepy] sleeeeeeeep, sleeeepppppp zzzzzz  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Getting along swimmingly!

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What.  The.  Hell?!   What the hell just happened?!

Everyone else called it our first swim meet.  I call it “total chaos.”  It was kindof like a cubscout meeting ‘cept all the kids were wearing swimsuits instead of blue shirts and kerchiefs.

And apparently there was a dress code for the mothers too – but I didn’t get the memo.  Most moms were dressed like they were gonna go play tennis with the queen then stay for her garden party afterwards.

Me?  I was wearing faded, stretchy sweatshorts & a jean jacket.  I rocked a tank top w/floral embellishments though.  In all honesty, I HAD planned to wear something slightly cuter (AND curl my hair) but then the dog built Puketown on the carpet at the top of the stairs.  Built Puketown INTO and AROUND the cow hoof he had been chewing on.  Which was convenient in an odd way because then I was able to use the hollow hoof to BAIL OUT the majority of Puketown!   Papertowels were used for what was left post-bail-out.  Gaack!  GAAAAAAACCCKKKKKK!!!

So the outfit went to heck-in-a-hand-basket & I just had to grab whatever was on the floor of my room so that we could fly out of the house to make the 6:45 am report-in deadline.  As the flying was occurring out the door, I caught a glimpse of the dog shredding the paper towels I had just used to clean Puketown.  Awesome.  Totally awesome.

This stellar start to the day meant that I was REALLY focused on wondering what the dog was doing NOW.  And NOW.  And even NOW.  So I gotta admit I wasn’t really paying too much attention to the meet.  Other than to note that there was a LOT of eating.  I’m wondering how much the breakfast buffet with sprinkle pancakes is gonna cost us?!?

And there was a LOT of yelling too.  Which I may have participated in.  But ONLY because I thought Sonny was missing and his race was up next.  So I went running into the boys’ bathroom YELLING his name.  Zero.  I went up to the breakfast buffet YELLING his name.   Zilch.  I even had the announcer ANNOUNCE his name.  Zip.

Turns out he was in “heating” the whole time.  “Heating” is where you wait like a good little swimmer until it’s your turn for the race.  I checked there but, Heck!  Don’t blame me!!  They ALL look alike with their matching swimsuits and caps and goggles.  How was I supposed to know he was playing the role of the good little swimmer today??!

Anywhooooo…I didn’t want to let this opportunity sliiiide (me funny.  me make funny pun about slippery-nesss in swim blog.  me very, very funny) to make a few other insightful observations:

  • There’s this part of the meet, at the start, where you’re supposed to write your child’s events on their arm in permanent marker.  Just to keep everyone on track – them included – and most of all.  Well, we only had a green permanent marker…which actually ISN’T so permanent after you spread sun protection all over it.  Now Sonny has a big green SMEAR on his arm that looks like a prison tat gone bad.  And it will be there at least through the week-end.  Because NOW it’s permanent.
  • A Freestyle race doesn’t actually mean ‘free-for-all’ which is what I thought it meant.  Freestyle is an actual, official swim stroke.  In other words, you can’t do “any ole’ crazy crap that would get you from one end of the pool to the other.”  So for example, doing a combo of underwater swimming and doggy paddle is NOT an option.  Like I said, I didn’t know this at the time.  But I know it now.  So just wanted to pass on my learnin’ to y’all.
  • I’m pretty sure that screaming, “Pull, Bella, Pull!!!” at the top of your lungs doesn’t really “help” Bella pull any faster.  Yep.  Pretty sure.

Suffice to say – while this is the first “swimteam summer” of our lives, it may be the last.  If I had a job, I’d have to take the day off for this nonsense.  Or at least the morning.  And when I finally get WORK to take time off FROM?!  I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be for this!  Yep.  Pretty sure.

But I don’t have a job.  That’s why we’re doing sink-or-swimteam this summer.

Sports!

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Ok…I caught some flack yesterday for my lame summer plans comprised of books and stilts.

Just to level-set here:  A) Why would you expect a whole run-down of fun and creative summer plans?!?  I’m NOT an activities director.  A job like that pays CRAP and forces you to spend time with people.  I don’t really like people.  Even mini ones.  And B) Did you really think I’m THAT much of a dolt?!?  Of course we have plans above-and-beyond what was mentioned in yesterday’s blog.  I always bring my “A” Game in everything I do.  Whether it be Product Marketing or Stay at home mom-ing.  I just didn’t mention said plans because they revolve around my summer nemesis.  SPORTS!

A variety of summer sports are always waiting in the wings.  Always.  Making me run hither and yon and in general annoying the *bleep* out of me with their demands for packed lunches, water bottles, snacks, sunscreen, sunflower seeds, hats, clean uniforms, dry towels, blah blah BLAH!!

For Sissy, this week alone we have:

  • M – 1/2 day basketball camp (9-12), 1/2 day volleyball camp (1-4), evening swim practice (5-6)
  • T – 1/2 day basketball camp (9-12), 1/2 day volleyball camp (1-4), evening swim practice (5-6)
  • W – 1/2 day basketball camp (9-12), 1/2 day volleyball camp (1-4), morning swim practice (9-10 am) which she missed see aforementioned sports camps, softball GAME 5:30 – 8 pm
  • Th – 1/2 day basketball camp (9-12), 1/2 day volleyball camp (1-4), morning swim practice (9-10 am) which she missed see aforementioned sports camps, softball practice 4:30-6 pm THEN 6-8 pm is Pasta Fuel Night for the swim meet on Friday
  • F – 1/2 day basketball camp (9-12), 1/2 day volleyball camp (1-4), swim meet (6:45-11 am) which she’ll miss see aforementioned sports camp, softball GAME 5:30-8

And even though she tried out for competitive soccer and got on the team she wanted, she decided not to play soccer again this year (thank God for small favors!)

For Sonny, this week we have:

  • M – evening swim practice (5-6), baseball practice 7-8 pm
  • T – wrestling camp 1-5 pm, evening swim practice (5-6) which he missed see wrestling camp
  • W – wrestling camp 9-12, morning swim practice (9-10 am) which he missed see wrestling camp, baseball practice 7-8 pm
  • Th – wrestling camp 9-12, morning swim practice (9-10 am) which he’ll miss see wrestling camp, 6-8 pm is Pasta Fuel Night for the swim meet on Friday
  • F – first swim meet ever and he doesn’t know 2 of the 4 required strokes (breast and butterfly.  I don’t know them either!) and the funny part is that I’m working the hospitality booth at the meet.  Uh…what part about not liking sports or people do you not get?!?  I don’t think “hospitality” is the place for me.  Unless it involves drinking.  Lots of it.  In which case I can be counted on to trot out my hostess-with-the-mostess schtick.

So…this whole exercise (pun intended – hardy har har) was just my way of saying, “See?  Activities, schmactivities.  Who needs activities?  Or a life?!  When you have SPORTS!!!?”

Stilted Summer Plans

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Let’s see.  What are we doing this summer….

Well, I just borrowed the 4-book-series of Game of Thrones.  It’s 3,456 pages long.  So that will keep me busy for a while.  There’s also tennis, of course.  But you knew that already.  The new dog needs to be walked twice a day.  So there’s that.  And certain people in my house continue to want meals, so the planning and execution on that will keep me somewhat busy.  Another thing is, I’ve gotta apply for federal extended unemployment benefits – which you KNOW is gonna take way too much time (and require a whole series of blog posts).  Then there’s also…….

Wait!  What?!?  What’s that you say??

Enough about ME…what are my KIDS doing this summer?!

You’re asking me this because — gulp! — I’M in charge of my kids for the summer?!??

I remember when the kids were newborns and the hospital let me slip out the front door with my bundle-of-joy and a total of ONE “how to bathe your baby” class under my belt.  That was it.  That was the extent of the preparation I received on feeding, clothing, loving and in general not-only-keeping-my-newborn-alive-but-having-them-grow-into-well-adjusted-intelligent-and-successful-adults.

Daunting, no?

Well that’s the way I feel about this summer.  Poorly qualified and utterly ill-prepared.

For every OTHER summer of their lives, the kids have been in daycare, then summer camp, then they’ve had nannies (nannies are the BEST!  You can breeze out the door to work while the kids are still sleeping even) and babysitters.  You name it, they’ve done it.  Just not with ME.  The weight of a fun summer has always rested on someone ELSE’S shoulders.

But now?  All me.  All the time!  And where’s the class on this??  Where’s the class on this WHEN YOU NEED IT?!??!

Panic, much??!

Heck YEAH!  YEAH, I’M PANICKED!!!  Because it turns out it’s REALLY HARD to actually DO a fun summer yourself.  Heretofore, it was easy.  It was EASY to tell the 19-year-old nanny to do it for me.  Actually doing it MYSELF??  That’s really, really hard.

‘Cause…uh…what do I even DO?  And when I say DO, I mean WHAT DO I EVEN DO WITH MY OWN CHILDREN FOR THE NEXT TWO-AND-A-HALF MONTHS?!??  [Besides bathing them.  Which is all I feel qualified to do.  Because THAT I had a class on.  But it seems like kindof a weird summer activity now that the kids are 9 and 10.]

As a side note, I gotta tell you I’m pretty sure I’ve already cut off my nose to spite my face.  I limited the kids’ t.v. watching to ONE HOUR per day this summer.  T.V. Watching was Summer Plan A.   (Talk about being a frickin’ moron.  Who eliminates Summer Plan A right out of the gate??  Moron.)

So it’s hammer down now and Summer Plan B is in full effect.  Summer Plan B is…technically…nothing.  But I’m calling it “Whatever comes up, as it comes up.”  That has a better ring to it.

And it just so happens that I caught my son reading the Dr. Seuss-y “Great Day for UP” to the dog last night and thought to myself, “Okey doke.  Time for some more age-appropriate reading material.”  So this morning I signed both kids up for the Summer Reading Program at the local library.  They’ll get fun prizes based on how much they read with the side benefit of giving us someplace to go every once-in-a-while.

I’m now calling Summer Plan B, “A brilliant plan if I do say so myself.”

AND??  While I was signing the kids up for the reading program, I noticed that the library had a free class on how to make and use your own stilts.  STILTS?!  Who doesn’t LOVE stilts??  Stilts are superfun!!!  In fact, they’re so fun that I’m gonna observe the class so that I can make my own stilts when I get home.  Hey!  It’s MY summer too, ya know.

And that’s it.  Those are the plans.  Do I need more plans than that??  ‘Cause really – nothin’ says “fun summer” like a good book and a pair of stilts!!!

Sandwiched between two worlds

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Summer’s here and I’m really struggling with my job plans.  I mean, if I got a job now, WHAT WOULD I DO WITH THE KIDS?!? [you all know signing up for summer camps, nannies, daycare etc. needed to be done in January at the latest.  But mostly at the end of LAST summer.  Am I right??]

But by the same token, while I’m kinda looking forward to my first-ever-summer-without-a-job-as-an-adult, I’m seized with guilt about how I can go a whole summer without a job!!

What to do, what to do.

In the meantime, my daughter paid me a nice compliment after I made her a sandwich to eat post-softball practice.

“Mom!  This is the BEST SANDWICH!!  It’s so good that you could get a JOB making sandwiches!!!”

Now, I mentioned that this was after softball practice, right?  A practice that lasted 2.5 hours, what with travel time and all.  And it was 8:30 at night.  And she was FAMISHED!  I could have made a sandwich out of two pieces of cardboard and slathered dust on it and she probably would have said the same thing.

But it’s good to know I have career options.

Old Bags from Tennis Sucktown

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Ok.  Slight problem.  There’s an email circulating from my tennis pro about the “Over 40 Tennis League” she’s starting up for the summer.  In this same email, she uses the term “Twilight” to describe the league.  And separate from this email, I’ve heard that this new team is going to be called the “Silver Team.”

AAAACCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

I have two issues with this concept that I wanted to share with you.

Issue Number 1:  The Over 40/TWILIGHT Tennis League/SILVER team??  That’s a terrible, TERRIBLE name.  Who’s with me here?  I mean, come on!  The name alone implies that we’re a bunch of old bags from tennis sucktown who are in the twilight of our tennis careers.  It pretty much guarantees we have silver hair in varying-shades-of-blue, really saggy arms (aka flying squirrel flaps) and only one good forehand left in us before we keel over into the ball hopper.

And Issue Number 2?  As far as tennis goes (and life in general actually), I’m pretty sure people mistake me for a cute, 30-something who’s playing “up” an age-bracket or two.  But if I start stating right off the bat that I’m OVER 40, then all illusion is lost.  And while I’m not shy about stating my age outright when asked, I also love me some illusion.

So what to do, what to do?!?  I’d like to continue playing tennis in the summer.  But not with a League name like that!!!

And then I remembered.  I have a tennis pro!  Do you??  My tennis pro says we should ALWAYS put a positive spin on things.  For example, instead of asking if a ball is OUT.  We should ask if it’s IN.  See?  Positive!!  So my idea here is to put a positive spin on the Over 40 thing.

In tennis, there is no score over 40.  40 is the highest – and when you’re tied at 40, it’s called Deuce!  [Hey!  I never said I didn’t KNOW anything about tennis, I just said I WASN’T ANY GOOD AT IT!!!  But thanks for bringing THAT up, B^#CH!]

Any point after Deuce is called Add-in (if it’s your point) and Add-out (if it’s your opponent’s point).  But me and my silver/twilight/over-40 a$$ remembers that back-in-the-day, it was called Advantage You (if it was your opponent’s point after Deuce) or Advantage Me (if it was your point after Deuce).

You have to see where I’m going here, don’t you??!  If we could just change the League name from “Old Bags from Tennis Sucktown” to….”Advantage Me!” then I’m totally in.

Where do I sign up?!?

School’s OUT!

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“School’s…out..for..SUMMER!  School’s…out..for..EVER!!!”

Ok, not forever.  Just for summer.  And none too soon.  [and here we are, right back to “an 80’s song for every moment in life.”  And also?  SCREW YOU if you looked it up and found out it was released in 1972.  Screw you AND the horse you rode in on.  Don’t read any more of this blog.  You’ve been disinvited from reading any more of this blog.  Stop reading, ya researching jerk.  I said…STOP!]

My sister, the doctor, played this Alice Cooper song on an endless loop at her graduation-from-post-graduate school party.  I’m pretty sure she didn’t actually want to get a doctorate, she just wanted to play the song at a party and really MEAN it.  Either that or she just wanted to make us all call her “doctor.”

Whatevs.  We all have different drivers.

I can’t really mean “school’s out for EVER” on this end because we’re only in 3rd and 5th grades (well – officially 4th and 6th grades now).  So – we’ve got a ways to go – but still, baby steps are worth celebrating.  And to do that…we’re getting the kids A TRIP TO PARIS!!!!

Ha ha.  Kidding.

We’re getting them a TRIP TO LONDON!!!

Ha ha.  Still kidding.

We’re getting them a TRIP TO SOUTHERN VIRGINIA TO VISIT THEIR GRANDPARENTS!!!

Not kidding.  Hi, Mom and Dad!  We’ll call you shortly to firm up plans.  You are expecting them, right?  Right?!?

Catholic Boys

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“Come out, Virginia.  Don’t let me wait.  You Cath-o-lic girls start much too late.”

(I’ll award bonus points if you can name the artist and song title that go with these lyrics…as long as you don’t breathe a word to anyone about the song being from the late 70’s instead of the early 80’s; ’cause that would ruin it for EVERYONE if you did that.  So don’t.)

Anywhoooo…how come no one ever writes songs about Catholic BOYS?!?  Puzzling, no?

Well, songs or not, I’m here to put in a good word for the Catholic boys.  My son being one.  [And I realize that this particular blog post has quite possibly devolved into only stuff I find funny, but I’m gonna go there anyway.]

Here is what a Catholic school boy does with his left-over, end-of-year school supplies.  (see pic)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please note how the bottom of the ruler has been sharpened on the curb.  But at least it’s being put to good use as a cross rather than a prison yard shiv.  Hopefully we’ll never go “there”…but we’re ready with our mad skilllzz in case we do.

Also, if it hasn’t been mentioned before, I just wanted to mention now that this is the last week of school.  And as a special treat, for the last week of school, my son’s class gets to rearrange their desks to sit with a friend or two.  They also get to name this new group they’ve created.  My son and his friends named their group “The Gay Nerds.”

ME:  (out loud) “Oh. My. Gawd!  What??  WHAT?!??!  WHERE DID YOU GET THAT NAME??  Did the teacher APPROVE this??  She couldn’t POSSIBLY have APPROVED THIS!!!”

(and in my head) Is this how I find out?  IS THIS HOW I FIND OUT??  Is this THE TALK???  ARE WE HAVING TALK RIGHT NOW??!?!  Wait.  WHAT talk are we having??  What talk is this that we’re having??  I think we’re having a talk about something but I’m not sure what talk we’re having.  No.  He’s in THIRD GRADE!  We’re not having a talk about ANYTHING!

SONNY:  “Mom, you’re over-reacting.  We named ourselves that.  So it’s ok.  No one called us that.  We chose that.”

ME:  “But Sweetie, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!?”

SONNY:  “We like games.”

ME:  “Wait.  What?!  What’s the name of your group again??”

SONNY:  “I told you already.  The GAME Nerds.”

Oh.  Ok.  Phew!  Carry on.

But now they’ve added more boys to their group and this bigger group voted to change their name.  They’re now calling themselves the “Knights of Christ.”  And they carry around homemade-shiv-ruler-crosses in the belt buckle loops of their shorts.  Not sure what they’re doing with those.  Patrolling the prison yard…er…playground for ne’er-do-wells in a Colorado Catholic school boy version of the New York City Subway’s Guardian Angels?!?

Wait!  I just got clarification from the other room.  Turns out it’s NOT a cross.  It’s a SWORD.  Ugh.  I don’t think SWORDS are allowed at school!!!

Now, to understand my son a bit better and not think he’s some super-violent kid (SWORDS?!?  Oh, Lord.) you need to know that this is the same boy who lets the swim coach call him Cameron (sooooo not his name) because he doesn’t want to hurt the coach’s feelings by correcting him.  Instead, he’s just started answering to the name Cameron and taking all swim instruction directed thereto.

So even though WE know your heart’s in the right place, my Gay Nerd Knight of Christ – please, please, please don’t inadvertently get kicked out for bringing a deadly weapon to school.  We only have one more day to go!  Hang in there.

Also?  Mystery solved.  THIS is why there are no songs about Catholic Boys!!!