Setting: The Borders Outlet store at Birch Run.

Players: Aunt Lisa, Gramma, Kaylie

Kaylie: “Aunt Lisa, Aunt Lisa, Look, they gotta couch.”

Aunt Lisa: “Honey, hush. There’s no need to scream.”

Kaylie: “But Aunt Lisa! A couch. Come sit on the couch with me.”

Gramma walks over to sit with Kaylie. Kaylie points to Gramma’s cheek.

Kaylie: “So, you chew that thing in your cheek and then you swallow it?”

Gramma: “No, you don’t swallow gum. You just chew it until you’re done and then you spit it out. In a trashcan.”

Kaylie: “Aunt Lisa! You don’t swallow gum!”

Aunt Lisa walks over to the couch.

Aunt Lisa: “That’s right Kaylie. You don’t swallow it because it will sit in your tummy. You don’t want lots of ucky gum in your tummy.”

Kaylie: “But Aunt Lisa! If it goes in your tummy, it’ll come out. IN YOUR POOP!”

—- Hey, I may be the mom of a 16-year-old, but I still laugh hysterically at the word poop coming out of a 3-year-old’s mouth. I know. A degenerate, that’s me. —-

You know you’re the youngest ones in the crowd when the people at the table next to you bring their own oxygen tanks.

Happy Birthday Evelyn! Hope your 86th was great.

—- Mr. Hot offered to buy her a beer to celebrate. She left soon afterward.  I sent him back for another one for me, though. —-

So, this morning, while we were stretching before our run, Mr. Hot looked over the car hood at me. He grinned.

Just think. In less than 12 hours, we’ll be there. I can see you with a big frosty mug of beer in one hand, with your other arm around a old, fat, singing German guy.

You know what happened next right?

Oh, honey, are you doing karaoke tonight?

ba duh dum dum.

—- Thank you. Thank you. I’m here through Thursday. —-

La La La La. Guess who took the week off from work? Guess who RAN three miles today? Guess who had a steam bath and an hour-long massage and 30-oh-mah-holy-hell shots in her head again today? Guess who took a Vicodin for the “Oh, shit that hurts” pain and then ate a scrumptious stir-fry, and is currently contemplating making drinking her third vodka/limeade.

Guess who finished a cute little crocheted sweater and bonnet for a new baby before eating said stir-fry?

Guess who is sitting on her deck with her dog and her husband - answering emails? Slightly stoned…but oh, so very relaxed?

C’mon guess!

Did you guess Ree? The Hotfessional? Why yes! You are so very, very right. Not only are you gorgeous, you’re a genius!

I have one more for you though. Guess who is kidnapping her husband tomorrow afternoon for two sex-filled fun-filled days and nights here?

Yes, we’re headed to the land of chicken dinners, Christmas year-round, the Cheese Haus, the Fudge House, the Outlet Mall, and wine and beer.

Oh, and Senior Citizens. Lots and lots of blue-haired grammas and grampas . My own personal AARP member is, however, not going to know what hit him.

So, if you don’t hear from me for a couple of days, even though I’m taking the Laptop und Radiokarte (yes, that’s the German translation for laptop and wireless card), you’ll know I’m busy having my way with Mr. Hot seeing the sights and taking pictures.

—- We’ll be back on Thursday. Behave while we’re gone, eh? (That’s what I’m telling Shortman and 24, but y’all? I don’t even give a shit right now, as long as the house is standing, the animals are fed, and they’re alive when we get home.) —-

Yesterday morning, Mr. Hot woke me up at 7:30. In the morning. On a Saturday. To go run at the track. (You’re either suitably impressed or thinking to yourself, “The Hotfessional has completely lost whatever little bit of sanity she had remaining.”) When we arrived, there was a man walking around with hand weights. We stretched and got ready to do our warm up lap, loving the slight breeze that was blowing.

Then we heard the Walker yelling. And saw him making all kinds of gestures. Pointing and shaking his index finger as if the invisible companion on his left needed straightening out. He was certainly upset, and I feared that he was going to drop dead of apoplexy, or do bodily harm to his partner (wherever that partner’s body was).

This went on for half a lap. Walker was quiet… walking along… but his body language showed continued agitation. Just as we rounded the turn to start running, we heard Walker again go off on his invisible companion. He was gesticulating wildly. Flailing his weight laden arms and shouting, “No, up! Up!”

Mr. Hot and I didn’t know if we should hang back in case we were to, y’know, run over Walker’s partner, or run like the devil was on our heels to get as far away from him as we could. But Walker was between us and the car. And we were only on lap 2.

As we got closer, I heard Mr. Hot whimper, “I’m scared.” I said, “Me, too. But we can take him.” “What about the guy he’s talking to?” We gave each other’s hands a quick squeeze and increased our pace slightly.

With each footfall, we got closer. Walker was still talking. He was still pointing and flapping his hands. It was obvious that whatever he wanted to go “up” was still having problems, but the rest of his words were mumbled and incoherent. Maybe he wouldn’t notice us with his attention focused elsewhere.

I just hoped that if the invisible companion decided to swerve into my lane (or was already in my lane) that I could go through him/her. It would be terrible if all of the ghost stories I’d read were wrong and they were transparent but solid as a brick wall. I could see myself bouncing backwards onto the hard asphalt and scraping up my ass. Which would have been a real shame because y’know, sitting on it to read blogs and drink vodka all weekend would be fuckin’ painful.

Closer. A glimpse at Mr. Hot. He lifted up his chin, whispered, “Let’s go” and kicked it up another notch. I nodded slightly. Closer. Oh mah holy hell y’all.

Closer. I adjusted my ballcap and vowed to keep my eyes straight ahead.

Closer. Deep breath and……

……then, of course, we saw it.

The bluetooth stuck in Walker’s ear.

—- This is why we should leave our glasses on when we run. —-

Wednesday night, I bribed Shortman with a trip to McDonalds if he’d accompany me to MomandDad’s house. See, The Golden Child and his wife and kids were in town. And although I love my brother - even though we see eye-to-eye on, oh, nothing - his wife (aka “The Bitch Who Stole Christmas” or TBWSC for short) and his kids make me certifiably crazy. Seriously. Like I grind my teeth if I have to be around them too long.

I know that’s a terrible thing to say about your niece and nephew. After all they’re kids. They’re generally well-behaved kids. They don’t scream - they’re 11 and 12, so it’s not like they’re not old enough to have some reasoning ability. They just skeeve me out. Because they’re exactly.like.their.mother.

Let me give you some background first. I’ll try (note: try) to keep it somewhat short.

*****

My brother and his first wife had one daughter. She’s a year older than Shortman and one of the sweetest girls you’d ever want to meet. I love her to death. My brother had custody when he and Wife-1 first split, but after marrying TBWSC, his daughter decided she’d rather live with her mother. So she moved out (this, obviously, tells you something!)

TBWSC had a son from HER first marriage who is also a year older than Shortman. In fact, her son and my brother’s daughter were born two weeks apart. This son (my brother’s stepson) is banned from my parents’ house for stealing money out of my father’s dresser.

Then, they had two children together. A boy and a girl. These are the two we saw.

Sooooooo, annnnnyyywayyy, back to Wednesday’s visit.

*****

My mother wasn’t there when Shortman and I pulled into the driveway. Thankfully, my Dad was - otherwise, I’d have been stuck with The Golden Child and his crew. Alone. With only Shortman to protect me.

We walked into the kitchen to find the table laden with food. Sandwiches, fruits, vegetables, and cookies. My brother called his two kids into the room (that’s when I found out that they’d also brought my other niece from Virginia with them - so three kids all together), and told them to eat their dinner.

He then looked at me and Shortman and said, “You guys can go talk to Dad in the family room so we can eat.”

Y’know, not that I would have wanted any of his overly-mayonnaised tuna sandwiches, but let’s call that Eyeroll #1.

————————————————-

Eyeroll #2 happened after they were done scarfing their dinner and joined us in the family room. My Dad was talking about a tree in his yard that he had cut down. It was a beautiful tulip tree at one time, but I know that it had been slowly dying away. My Dad has a friend, “Tom the Treeman” - and it was Tom who came to do the deed.

I asked Dad if Tom knew what had killed the tree. Dad said, “Hell, he just comes with his chain saw and chops them down.” (Now you know why I talk the way I do.) I remarked that I thought Tom was a Tree Doctor.

From behind me (while we were still carrying on our conversation), I hear “There’s no such thing as tree doctors.”

It was the nephew. I looked right at him and said, “Tree doctors are usually botanists who specialize in diseases that trees get. They’re also known as arborists. Just like veterinarians are called animal doctors.” All the while giving him that “What ever happened to ‘children are to be seen and not heard’ look” that my aunt had perfected.

————————————————-

MomandDad have become members of their local recreation center. It offers water aerobics (Mom’s specialty) and a weight room that my Dad loves. Dad asked The Golden Child, “Why didn’t you come with us this morning when we went over to work out? You said you’d be up and ready, but we waited and then decided to just go.” TBWSC decided to answer for The Golden Child (he’s also the most pu$$y-whipped man I’ve ever known). “We wanted to spend some family time so we decided to get up this morning and go for a long walk ourselves! It’s so good to have family time. It brings us closer together as a family. We looked so cute with all 5 of us walking down the road.” (Eyeroll #3 and a puke in the mouth thrown in for good measure.)

————————————————-

Alas - soon after my mother arrived home (she’d been at dinner with a couple of girlfriends…), my Uncle stopped by with his wife. The rest of the evening was spent with TBWSC trying to compete with the Uncle for the most long-winded story. Shortman was sitting off to my left and slightly behind me, and I had my hat pulled down low so no one could see my eyes. I kept glancing over and Shortman and performing eyerolls #4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. I think I strained a forehead muscle.

—- But I did my duty as a good daughter and sister. I lasted 90 minutes. Shortman cleaned me out at Mickey D’s. —-

Quick updates today!

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I went to MomandDad’s to see the Golden Child and his family last night. That will be the subject of tomorrow’s post. There’s plenty of rolling of eyes involved. Snort.

*********lalalalalala*********

The people who decided that they had to have pictures of my house? Haven’t been back. So I can’t ask them “WTF dudes?”

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No neighbor saga updates. Must be boring in the summer. The Husband and The Wife seem to both be around - taking care of the boys, but they’re never there together. And there’s been no sign of Not The Husband since school let out. Check back in September! (Of course, if there’s any developments, I’ll let you know immediately!)

*********lalalalalala*********

Now, before I head down to dinner, and spend some time catching up with y’all’s blogs (No time…I missed all the BlogHer recaps even!), here’s a little poem I wrote while I was waiting for the interminable meeting to end.

I have a little groundhog,
living in my ditch.
He’s short and fat and wobbly,
I think I’ll name him Mitch.

He runs up to my front porch,
bravely coming near.
Sniffing the air all around him -
Mitch seems to show no fear.

Silly little Mitchell,
watching him is fun,
But what he really doesn’t know -
I’m not the only one.

There are some others here,
interested as well,
they sniff the air and watch real close,
no telling what they smell.

Mitchell must have sensed it.
These two want to play.
He raises up his tiny face,
then scampers fast away.

—- And y’all? Will you all please come to my house so I can hug you and kiss you and ply you with wine and chocolate (or beer and chips) and take complete advantage of you? Because the response to yesterday’s Wordless Wednesday was entirely unexpected and will warm my Hotfessional heart forever. I thank you so very, very much. —-