Saturday, March 31, 2007

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Chowhound turns 17

My baby is growing up. So many changes. The biggest change this year was in the choice of his birthday dinner. I have always let my children choose their birthday dinner.

When Chowhound was little it was Chucky Cheese. We would climb through the tunnels, play in the balls, and dance to the silly characters. I was so grateful when he grew past that stage.

For a few years it was homemade spaghetti. He changed it to meatloaf when he found out his brothers hated meatloaf. Once a year he would have the upper hand on his older brothers.

Then, a few years ago we started going to Shoguns, a Japanese restaurant. We would sit at the hibachi tables, banging our fists on the tables, catching shrimp in our mouths, and listening to the same silly jokes year after year.

Now this year he announced he wanted to go to Hooters. Yeah, my baby is growing up. No longer entertained by a giant rat or Japanese cooks. No, he wants the hooter girls. So, we went. All three boys wanted to go. Imagine that.

Our waitress was the poster girl for Blondes Unlimited. Naturally, a petite, endowed blonde little chickie. Right away it was obvious she was not hired for her brains. A friend of mine lent me her camcorder for my trip next week. I brought the manual into the restaurant to review while I was waiting on the other boys.

The waitress looks at the manual and says, "Oh, I have one of those. I got it about two years ago and have never used it. I couldn't figure out how to work it."

Really trying hard not to come across sarcastically, I replied, "That is what the manual is for."

"Oh, mine had several big, thick books with it. They were all in foreign languages, Spanish, French, Latin, English. I just couldn't figure it out."

Chowhound and I cut our eyes toward each other at the same time. Did she really say that? We were both dying to bust out laughing but she stopped at the gift counter a few feet away. So, we held it in. The longest five minutes of the night.

Later, she walked up beside Daredevil as he was talking on his cell phone. Suddenly, she bends around sticking her chest and face right in his, stands back up and then laughs, "Oh, I thought he was talking to himself."

OMG. Was she for real? The boys were loving it. Chowhound kept snickering about her jiggling everywhere. She would walk away from the table and all three boys would about fall out of their chairs just to get a glimpse. Is a mother supposed to witness this?

She had the last laugh though. She had promised Chowhound that "they would take care of him". I don't even want to know what kind of perverted thoughts went through his seventeen year old testosterone riddled brain. She went over to the bimbo station and started clapping the others towards her. Yes, that's correct. She started clapping and one would join her and start clapping and slowing they all migrated towards the blond leader and stood in the corner clapping. Then, like a parade of chicks they headed towards the table. Four blonds and one brunette. She must have been the ugly duckling. They gathered near Chowhound and the leader asked him to stand up. She pulled his chair away from the table and then instructed him to stand up on it. She proceeded to hand him two menus, one for each hand and then told him to cluck like a chicken while they sang. His eyes got like saucers.

"What?"

"Flap your arms and cluck like a chicken."

It was effing hilarious. I had tears in my eyes.

Happy Birthday Chowhound.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Discrimation Suit

Improviser bought Chowhound a basketball for his birthday. Not just any basketball but a Spalding Neverflat. It is guaranteed to stay inflated for 1 year.

But, I can't play with it. It says so on the packaging.

"Recommended for males 12+"

MALES!? What is up with that?!!! It's not recommended for females? Do they think we can't handle this new technologically advanced basketball? OH! It's got NitroFlate in it. I guess that's too dangerous for us fragile females. It's a frickin ball.

I'm hurt and humiliated.

Spalding owes me compensation.

I'm suing them for sexual discrimination. Why should basketballs be gender relative? Don't they think there are rough and tumble females out there? They haven't ever seen me play basketball. I'm brutal to the ball. It has to withstand crashing into trees, cars, the house and occasionally the backboard.

I am so traumatized. I know my pain and suffering are worth something. Know any good lawyers?

Abandoned and Abused

Chowhound had a choice to make yesterday.

Go to the beach (that doesn't allow dogs until after 5 pm) with Daredevil and his girlfriend and her sister and cousin or hang out at a wonderful beach/lake park with Mom and the dog.

I lost.

I even tried to get them to come to the beach I wanted to go to. But, her Dad wouldn't allow that.

So, I took Remi on his first beach encounter all by myself. Needless to say, I didn't even attempt to bring the camera, handling a 110 lb dog is difficult enough. Remi had his best day ever! He wasn't to sure about the waves and water at first but after he tried to bite a few of them they became friends. He romped and played and made friends, both human and canine, with everyone. He was one wore out puppy dog by the end of the day.

Then, later, the boys further alienated me and the dog. Mostly Remi, but I felt sorry for him. They took delight in the fact that the dog hates loud noises. We had free range balloons rooming around the house left free from Chowhound's party. The brats started popping them and scaring the dog. Remi tried to use me for cover. But, a 110 lb dog doesn't wedge behind a person lying on a couch very easily. He ended up more like sitting on top of my head. Poor baby. Then, he disappeared. We searched the house. Finally, we found him hiding in Chowhound's closet. He refused to come out. I felt so bad for Remi. The brats found it hilarious. They are warped. Teenage testosterone does that.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Spring Smells

Spring brings the nose to life. It has so many smells. Today's birthday party/cookout for Chowhound was a prime example.

  • The hamburgers and chicken wings cooking on the charcoal grill.
  • The azaleas and roses in bloom
  • Fresh cut grass (remember I live in Florida--we cut grass year round)
  • The manure from the neighbors garden

Yes, folks. That's right. The day I plan a big outdoor event my neighbor decides is a great day to spread a truck load of manure. Fortunately for me, I decided to have Chowhound's party in the garage and front yard instead of in the screened-in porch across from their garden. Unfortunately, for the lady that lives behind me, she had her cookout in her backyard. She had blue and pink bells hanging everywhere so I think it was a bridal/baby shower. Yeah, and the wind was not blowing in a favorable direction. We got occasional whiffs of horse and cow stuff. I really didn't mind though. I have had differences with the neighbor behind me and it tickled me to know the snooty woman had to endure this too. I thought it was funny. I know that is a terrible way to be but I don't care.

Not everyone we expected showed up but a good time was still had by all. I was their biggest entertainment. I am a one hit wonder at ping pong. I hit more air molecules than anyone. I can miss the ball three or four times on the same try.

Chowhound had me in stitches last night during our practice run. He kept making fun of me. I have no hand-eye coordination or depth perception. It makes for a hilarious combination. One of the times, Chowhound sent a good solid hit my way. I slapped some air, jumped out of the way, and inadvertently blurted out, "Oh, shit!" He rolled. I will never live that one down. Never. He told all his friends too. And now evertime he walks past me he says, "oh shit". Effing teenagers. My only consolation is knowing that one day he will have teenagers too.

Friday, March 23, 2007

I'm alive

I realize that I haven't posted but twice this month. I've been busy but not that busy. It's just that I read a post that deeply affected me and I have been trying to find the right words in response. Nothing like immediate feedback. I know a long pause after a post loses the effect but I just haven't found the right words yet. I will. It is something I need to do. I just reacted and retreated into myself in response.

But, it won't be today. I have a cookout to pull together. Chowhound is having a bunch of people over tomorrow for his birthday party. He will be 17 on the 28th. My goodness my baby is growing up way too fast.

So, I'm off to Curves, the tanning place and then the store. I have less than two weeks to undo a years worth of laziness. I know it ain't gonna happen but at least I'm putting forth an effort. I have to get a starter tan so I don't cook like a lobster when I'm trolling around the Bahamas in 10 days. Yeah, I get to see my Sweetie. Chowhound, Daredevil and I are spending 6 days down there if I get their passports in time. Add another stresser. They are supposed to be here Monday. And of course, I need to buy the store out in order to feed 10+ teenage boys tomorrow. Oh, it's going to be so much fun.

Have a great weekend and I'll post my other thoughts if I survive tomorrow.

Friday, March 16, 2007

This makes sense

VWBug is my blog mother. She has sons, Tater and Tot. So, it is fitting that my Leprechaun name is:

Your Leprechaun Name Is:

Weebit O'Taters

Friday, March 02, 2007

It's Official...

I'm old. Somebody I thought was a really good friend told me a few days ago that I looked "mature". I am not mature. Mature women are members of AARP and get senior citizen discounts at Dennys. I have a long ways to go before I can qualify for discounts.

You think you know someone so well just to be dissed like that. Paybacks. Just remember paybacks. I have pictures of us looking not so mature. Just keep that thought stirring in the back of your mind.