Yet Another Pic

Well, here we are at Easter with Mike's bike. Shael was ticked off because I wouldn't let her change clothes until all the picture taking was out of the way. You should have seen us. With each individual family, we'd perch them on Mike's bike somehow, then take their picture with FOUR different cameras. At one point I had to take the batteries out of my camera and put them in Emily's because hers had gone dead. The few minutes of having her dead batteries in my camera must have resurrected her batteries because when I put them back in her camera, they worked again. IT'S A MIRACLE!

Good Morning, Friday

Paydays are always the best days, aren't they? Can you say "Groceries"?

Oh, and Thank You Jesus For The Rain! I was beginning to fear another dust bowl.

How Many Posts Can I Make In One Day?

As many as I dang well please, right?

I saw this and instantly knew I wanted it tattooed on my body somewhere. Just the Hebrew letters. I think this is the coolest thing. I've always said the only name any person should ever have inked on their body is their kid's name. You don't want to be "voiding" or covering up any ex girlfriend or boyfriend or even ex husband or ex wife. But your kid, they will always be your kid, even if they die, they will still have been your kid. Now, I've never really had the inclination to tattoo my child's name anywhere on me, but when I saw this, I knew I had to have it. Not only is it my kid's name, but it's my name, too. Okay, Roni, when do you have time to go with me?

Lord, HELP!

Last night at church, a lady shared on how sometimes the most effective prayer can be just the plain and simple "Lord, Help!" Today I made some cards for some special people in my life who are going through a hard time right now. I included these scriptures and thought I might share them with you, too. They are from the New King James version.


Unless the Lord had been my help,

My soul would soon have settled in silence,

If I say, "My foot slips,"
Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up.

In the mulititude of my anxieties within me,

Your comforts delight my soul.
Psalm 94:17-19


O, God, do not be far from me;
O my God, make hast to help me!
Psalm 71:12


You who fear the Lord,
Trust in the Lord;
He is their help and their shield.
Psalm 116:11

Feeling Lucky?

I did something tonight I hadn't done in a long time. I sat on the ground and searched for a four leaf clover. It felt so nice out there. Kind of on the chilly side, but still spring in the air. Sitting out there in the side yard, listening to all the creatures and smelling a faint whiff of honey suckle (which only 10 minutes earlier I had been thinking maybe it was evil, the way it takes over everything). The dog sat there with me itching his various itches, casually harrumphing here and there and finally getting up and walking off when he could take no more of the boredom. But I was enjoying the solitude, I could hear a whiporwill and a couple of owls in the distance. I heard the neighbors sheep bleating every now and then. No one was talking to me, or just talking to hear their own head rattle. No one was bugging me. It was nice. And did I find a four leaf clover? Oh, yes. I never give up until I do.

Praise You In This Storm

Artist:
Casting Crowns
Album:
Lifesong
Song:
Praise You In This Storm
I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as You mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will life my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I’ve cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry
You raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

Cry Out To Jesus

By Third Day

To everyone who's lost someone they love

Long before it was their time

You feel like the days you had were not enough

when you said goodbye
And to all of the people with burdens and pains

Keeping you back from your life

You believe that there's nothing and there is no one

Who can make it right
There is hope for the helpless

Rest for the weary

Love for the broken heart

There is grace and forgiveness

Mercy and healing

He'll meet you wherever you are

Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus
For the marriage that's struggling just to hang on

They lost all of their faith in love

They've done all they can to make it right again

Still it's not enough
For the ones who can't break the addictions and chains

You try to give up but you come back again

Just remember that you're not alone in your shame

And your suffering
When your lonely

And it feels like the whole world is falling on you

You just reach out, you just cry out to Jesus

Cry to Jesus
To the widow who struggles with being alone

Wiping the tears from her eyes

For the children around the world without a home

Say a prayer tonight

Greetings # 216

YOU ARE HEREBY NOTIFIED that you have been selected to serve as a Petit juror in ________ COUNTY. YOU ARE THEREFORE COMMANDED AND SUMMONED to appear personally before the District Court of _________ County.

What a wonderful announcement to come home to tonight! I'm just so overjoyed and excited. I will be 33 years old in August and this is the very first time I have ever been summoned for jury duty. For 10 years I was a stay at home Mom and jury duty would have been the perfect time waster for me. Now I have a full time job and I get summoned. I was going to go to Tulsa with Mike on the 2nd for his court settlement thingie, but now I guess I won't because I don't know how many days I might miss work for this jury duty thingie. Hopefully not too many. Mike is going to laugh his butt off when he hears about this.

Have Mercy

Well, we made it to the library last night to pick up a copy of Jane Eyre for Shael. When she asked my Dad if he had a copy he said "What's that?". Okay, my educated Dad had never heard of Jane Eyre? What is up with that? I was talking on the phone with my Mom and she, of course didn't know what it was, either. She goes "Jane Eyre? Isn't that the airplane lady?" No, Mom, that's Amelia Eirhart. Jeez, where did I come from, anyway?
But, anyway, Shael decides to read it out loud to me on the way home from Grove. OMG. Let's just say that my tastes in books has not changed. After about 5 minutes of hearing her drone on and on and not saying anything (it reminded me of working at J & J and talking to my old boss!) I felt as if my eyes were going to bug out of my head. How can anyone like that? To each his own. But, I told Shael that since she had to read it, I would give it a try. She doesn't know what kind of sacrifice this is going to be.

Gotta run, I have to be at work an hour early today. I traded places with Roberta so at least I get off at 4:00. I won't be like her, though, I'll leave at 4:00 whereas she hangs around for 30 to 45 minutes after the time she's suppose to leave. Sometimes we leave at the same time and I don't leave until 5:00. Crazy woman. She does everything the hard way so it takes her forever to do anything. And she waits until 5 minutes before time for her to leave to start doing any kind of clean up. I honestly don't know what the woman does in her room to take up so much time.

Have a good Wednesday!

Put The Rat Back On The Wheel Because Here We Go Again

Shael is reading Jane Eyre in her reading class and there aren't enough copies to go around. Her teacher asked if it was possible to get their own copy, borrowed from a private collection or a library. I don't happen to own a copy so I was going to take her to the library and I never did. Maybe I can take her tomorrow night. The library closes at 5:00, which is the time I get off work. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays it's open until 9:00, so maybe. I have Remarque, I have the complete essays and other writings of Emerson, a Steven Crane, two very old hard back editions of Mark Twain's Roughing It (both volumes) that are stamped on the inside with "This is the authorized Uniform Edition of my books. Mark Twain" (if they would have been signed Samuel Clemens I might have something worth a lot of money), I have several Jack London, I even have an Arthur Miller, but no Charlotte Bronte. In my college Lit book that I've saved all these years, I have lots of other things, but it's American Lit and Charlotte Bronte was certainly no American. I told Shael to ask her Poppy, my Dad, if he might have a copy. He has all kinds of books, a person might be surprised at what he has in that room of his. I figure if he has a copy of Little Women (and I know he does) he might actually have a copy of Jane Eyre.

I was telling a lady at work about it and she said "What's Jane Eyre?" This person, nearly 36 years old, has never heard of Jane Eyre? And this morning as I was telling Mike this, he said he didn't know what Jane Eyre was either. I said "You know, Charlotte Bronte?" and he said "Who?" *tsk, tsk* Okay, now Mike and I went to the same high school. We basically were subjected to the same things, yet somehow, we each came out with two different educations. How does this happen? We had the same English class, how does he not know who Charlotte Bronte is? No, it did not just now occur to me that Shael is learning something in 6th grade that I didn't learn about until high school. I'm finding that's the case more and more often.

When I asked Shael if she liked it, she kind of sighed and said "You'd like it Mamma, you should read it. It's big and boring and those are the kind of books that you like!" Thanks. Some day, in the near future, she's going to read one of those big boring looking books and her eyes are going to be opened. "That's why my Mamma reads so often. This is good!" Just for the record, I've made a broad generalization of the type of books I don't care much for. Anything older than 100 years, or anything British. Give or take a few exceptions. I have a friend who loves Jane Austen. But trying to read her makes my eyes cross. My high school sweetheart had a thing for Charles Dickens. Ahh! I know I should like it, they all have happy endings, but trying to find the story in all those words is too much! I'm a shallow minded reader, people. I do, however, really like Jack London, Edgar Allen Poe and Mark Twain, does that redeem me?

Word Of The Day

If my sister can have Quixotic as her word of the day, then I can have Bifidobacterium as mine. You might not be able to find it in your regular Webster's (one of my best friends, I'm a huge dictionary fan). You might have to look in a medical dictionary. Which I don't have, but aspire to own one day. But, I'll give you a hint. Dannon.

Saturday In Da House!

Nothing like doing absolutely nothing on a Saturday. I literally am still in my nightgown. It's 7:43. P.M. I ate breakfast in bed. Not to mention lunch and supper in bed. It was such a beautiful day and I wasted it all sitting in the house watching TV, lounging around, browsing the Internet. I checked on a weekend trip to OKC for the family. I found out that it would make a really cool trip for me and Mike. Lots of "adult" things we could do, ya know? I'm talking live music, live music, and live music. But, this is a "family" trip. So, live music in a bar and grille is probably out of the question. I'm thinking we can go do lots of other family friendly things. What I had in mind was the Omniplex (Shael isn't too keen on the idea but I know once she gets there she'll like it), Bricktown (always cool, even with an 11 year old tagging along), the Water Taxi, and something I've been wanting to do for several years now, the OKC National Memorial. Shael was too young to remember the bombing, but I remember. Like it was yesterday. We drove by the site as they were constructing the Memorial but we haven't been back since. Hopefully we'll have a great time. Hopefully we'll actually make it.

On my own defense, I did do something domestic today. I got all my laundry done except some delicates because there wasn't enough to make a whole load and my sheets. I prefer to hang my sheets out to dry but there is so much pollen out there you would not believe it. Unless you live around here, that is. Every single morning I have to use my wiper washer fluid because there's this green film covering my windshield. Oh, and the Suburban, which hasn't been driven in a week, is completely green. It's a red Suburban. This lady at work said she looked outside the other night and when she looked toward her pole light, it looked like it was snowing. I'm afraid if I tried to dry my sheets out on the line, I'd have green sheets instead of white sheets. And Mike's allergies would make my life miserable. This is what happens when any kind of pollen gets near my dear husband.

I even got some dishes washed today. Woo-hoo! I'm on a friggin' roll here, people. I wouldn't make that coveted Mother Of The Year award because I let Shael fend for herself in the food department the whole entire day. But, gosh, she's almost 12, I think she can handle it. She ate cereal for breakfast, she made some egg salad for lunch and also scrambled her up some eggs to go along with her egg salad (we have an over abundance of eggs around the house, I guess) and for supper, she opened up a can of pork and beans and ate them straight out of the can. She ought to smell real fresh tomorrow. HA! I'm hoping that she'll stay fueled up by the time her Daddy gets home. That'll be great.

I suppose I should get off here and do some other domestic duties. There's some towel's in the dryer that need folded and put away. Tomorrow is another day. A second chance at doing some house cleaning. I'm not holding my breath. I enjoy house cleaning like a fish enjoys being pulled out of the water. I need to hire some obsessive compulsive house cleaner. Just drop them off in my house, hold their hand until they've assessed the problem(s) and then drive away. Just don't touch my books, unless you put them back in the exact place I had them (gotta have my own OCD symptoms, don't I?) and I'll be completely satisfied with any other system they can come up with to organize my house.

Adios!

And here is a picture of my "flower garden". This is my door and I keep a picture of each baby on the door in different settings with each season/holiday. I don't think you can see the baby pictures in each polka dotted flower. I think it's cute. Shael said it was stupid. Oh, well. 

This is the drawing I made to replace my Trix rabbit. The babie's names are in the big flowers. I always put their names somewhere on the drawings. 

Hunting Widow Again

Mike is gone again to the turkey woods of southern Oklahoma. He's hoping to get that turkey this time. Yay. He left right after work today and won't be back until Sunday night. Just him and my Dad this time.

Shael had to go to work with me today. No school for some reason, and I didn't really want her trashing up the house on her own today. She was excited about going, even though I had to go in an hour early. But, by the time 5:00 rolled around she was more than ready to go home. So was I, honestly. She wanted to watch a movie and the VCR was screwed up. So, I did some VCR surgery with my handy dandy Leatherman. I got it to working, and I'm sure that McGuyver would have been proud. But by the time I got it to working, it was 4:00. Ha! I couldn't just keep working on it, I kept getting interrupted. Just like everything I ever do.

Shael and I are off to church tonight for a youth revival. It was going on Wednesday and Thursday but Shael didn't get to go because she hadn't finished her homework. She had LOTS of it to finish. No school means no homework so that means she'll be able to go tonight. She was pretty upset with me for not letting her go the other two nights. Of course my Mother took her side and it was "all my fault". That's okay. Blame me. It's all my fault that Shael doesn't hand in any work. There were assignments due March 7th that she hadn't even done yet. Yeah. MARCH 7th. All my fault.

I'm out of here. Gotta eat some supper. Later!

Ho Hum

I've not been in a very talkative mood lately, have you noticed? Maybe I'm scared that I'll make a long draft that won't publish and I'll feel that sinking feeling again of an hour just wasted. Maybe I'm just worn out.

Mike has been a not so nice person lately. Or have I been too sensitive. I don't know. There's just this feeling of blah hanging over me I can't seem to shake. But, it's irritating to me to know that all it takes from him is one touch and my heart melts. I was praying in the shower the other morning and I told God that I really didn't like Mike anymore. I was assuming I still loved him or I wouldn't still be sticking by him. But I wasn't sure if it was love or just habit. The knowledge that I didn't like him anymore was glaring at me eye ball to eye ball. I didn't like the way he treated me, I didn't like the foul language he uses, I didn't like his morals, I didn't like his standards, he really doesn't even have standards at all. If he does they are so low I don't see them. All it seems he wants it to work and to party. Party and to work. Ride the bike, party. Party, ride the bike. Family? What's that? Nothing he has anything to do with. Not his responsibility beyond paying the bills. All this time I feel my feelings for him slipping away in this cloud of disgust, I try to disguise it. Hide my real feelings. Hide the way I feel like I come in a distant second in his life. Or third, or fourth or tenth. But then he'll climb in bed next to me and reach for my hand that's up over my head and stroke it with his own fingers and I'm a goner all over again. Yes, it's still love. Habit couldn't make my heart race when he comes into the kitchen and gives me a full body hug while I'm cooking supper. It's not disgust I'm feeling when he asks me to take a ride with him on the four wheeler. It's not irritation when my heart soars out of my chest when he stops the four wheeler on a lonely dirt road and turns around to kiss me. It's love. I'm in love with my husband. This past year has been hard, so hard. So hard that sometimes I am not sure if we are going to make it. But there's always that one touch, that kiss that lets me know that we will. We are making it. These may be the "worse" we were talking about nearly 13 years ago when we vowed "for better or for worse". We've had richer and we've had poorer. We've had sickness and we've had health. We've definitely had better and we've definitely had worse. Till death do us part. I love you, Baby.

How true.

Oh, this is so me.

wowza

Has anyone seen that Hanes commercial with the pro dodge ball players? One word will suffice and that word is Wowza.

Fog Horns In the Night

What is an instrument that measures decimals called? A decimeter? Well, I would like to get one of these and measure the decimals of Mike's loudest snoring. He can't possibly sleep well when something that loud is emanating from him. Then I would like to find some other object that emits the same frequency and amount of decimals as his loudest snoring and play it just when he gets good and asleep. How well do you think he would sleep then? Huh? When I snore and it wakes him up or keeps him awake, do I get mad when he rolls me over or wakes me up to get me to stop? No! I apologize for keeping him awake and try to find a different position so I'm less offensive. Last night I'd been asleep for 3 hours when all of a sudden it was as if the Titanic were in our bedroom blasting it's horn. Or maybe an airplane taking off. Or maybe an airplane reaching Mach one. All I know is that it was quiet then it was loud. And I was awake. I got up and went to the bathroom, turned the light on even, thinking that maybe, just maybe it would wake him up enough to where he'd roll over and stop snoring. Nope. Didn't happen. He was facing my direction, too. I peed, slammed the lid down on the toilet when I was finished, flushed, washed my hands for the recommended 20 seconds, turned out the light and literally jumped on to the bed. All of these things in their entirety or individually have worked in the past. But not this time. Virgin pines were being sawed down in our bedroom. I laid back down, adjusted the cotton balls in my ears and was wide awake wondering what the heck to do next. I flopped around this way, then that way. I tossed and I turned then knew I couldn't put up with it another second. I gently placed my hand on his arm "Sweetie? Can you roll over?" I asked super softly. Commence the great cussing out. I rolled back over while he was still "mother-f-ing" this and "sonofabitching" that and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry this time. It seems I awoke him from the most blissful, comfortable sleep he'd seen in ages all because I couldn't stand to see him so comfortable and I wanted him to suffer and not sleep all night long. It seems I rejoice in the fact that he had a whole night of restlessness ahead of him. All because I asked him nicely to roll over.

So, this morning, I asked him what time he came to bed. 9:15. What? I hadn't even heard him come to bed! I was already sacked out by 9:15? I knew I wasn't feeling well, but that's pretty early to not even hear him come to bed. He said he came to bed at 9:15 and watched TV until 10:00. That was even weirder because I hadn't heard him or the TV. Then I asked him if he remembered me waking him up at midnight. Oh, yeah. I got to hear it all over again. I'm sorry, but I refuse to be made to feel guilty for asking him to roll over. He said he didn't sleep worth a damn the rest of the night. Good. Serves him right for acting like such a "motherf-ing sob".

A nice close up of Emily and Sydney. Aren't they pretty? 

Chunky Monkey. Nikolas Todd. Oh, and btw, that's my sister buff arm holding him up there. I thought she might like that comment. 

My brother with his wife and their youngest. The other three were gone with their other parents. 

My parents. My sister and I couldn't talk them in to climbing up on Mike's bike. That would have been a hoot and I would have blown it up and presented the picture to them with a flourish. 

My sister and her family. The Hollywood Gang. Emily and Luke, where's your shades? 

I hate the fact that that's what people have to look at when they look at me. There's me with the two loves of my life. 

Finally, a recent picture of Emily. Taken yesterday. 

Happy Easter?

My Easter was different for some reason. No egg hunt at Grandma's. No egg dying at home. *Sigh* Shael isn't interested in that anymore. I think if I would have offered, she would have jumped at the chance, but she didn't want to seem too "baby" and ask if we could. Although, we would have just colored them then stuck them back in the fridge to eat without the whole hiding and hunting thing.

The worst part was that I was sick the whole weekend. I can't quite put my finger on how I feel, the closest thing I can describe is as is a three day long hangover. And I haven't even been drinking. Maybe I should, then I would at least have a reason for feeling so crappy. I'd like to throw up and get it over with, but I guess since I haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday at Grandma's, I don't have a whole lot to throw up. No food in 18 hours can make it kind of hard to puke. But, hey, it doesn't affect it pouring out the other end. TMI, I know. Sorry.

I did lots of blog worthy things this weekend, despite the "hangover". But, I just don't feel like posting it right now. Especially since I'm still a little miffed at Blogger losing my last post I spent so long drafting. So, I will do what any sick blogger does, I'll post pictures instead. How ya like them apples, Emily?

I spent an hour, an HOUR people, on a post because I actually had something to say this time and Blogger messed up and LOST MY POST. My whole entire thing is gone.
Thanks Blogger for starting out my day JUST RIGHT.

The Final Frontier

Rosco goes in for his final vet visit this morning. He is going to get his stiches out and a general once over to make sure it healed up nice and there's no infection. I don't know if any of you remember my parents' dog, Sox, or the way she would do this little back and forth step on her two front feet when she got excited to see you, but Rosco now does the same exact thing. It must be the tripod way of keeping balanced while wagging a tail. Rosco's tail, like his leg, is just a stump, so he has to wiggle his butt to wag his tail. He wags that little stump as hard as he can.

******************

I've got this enormous bruise on my right calf that I have no idea how it got there. The weird thing is the bruise is only barely visible but it feels like it's 4 inches wide. I don't bruise as easy as some. Like my Mother, who can lean up against a counter and step away with a monster bruise. But not like Mike either, who could walk away from getting hit by a 90 m.p.h. baseball with only a small red spot that would be gone the next day. When I see a bruise on Mike, I'm usually saying "MY GOSH! WHAT HAPPENED?" because I know something traumatic must've gone on.

****************

Once again, I've managed to say something where there was nothing to say. In response to my friend's comment about it being a big deal for us to be let loose in the mall when we were kids. You ain't a kiddin'. It was a big deal. Something I would never let Shael do now. I don't even like her going to the bathroom without me at the mall. The last time we were there together I let her go to Dairy Queen alone while I sat at the food court with my own food. At first my back was to her until I thought "What the heck am I thinking?" and changed seats so I could face her direction and keep an eagle eye on her while she was waiting in line. The line was so long that I was finished eating by the time she got back to the table with her food. Mrs. Reid had me pegged when she said I hover. But, she is only 11 and the mall can be a dangerous place. Even I don't feel safe there sometimes. The mall in Tulsa? I won't even go there alone. No. Way. I won't even go there after dark with someone else. Those people who drop their kids off at the mall have got to be crazy. Can you say "Amber Alert"?

Speaking of, there was one yesterday. An Amber Alert, that is. For the Independence, Kansas area. I sure hope she was found. She was 17 and they said she was considered in very grave danger. How scary. I felt so helpless sitting in my safe little room with three little babies, while somewhere out there a 17 girl was probably scared out of her mind. Lord, help her.

*************

I'd better hurry and get around early again today. That trip to the vet is going to cost me laundry and dish time. Boy, I'm so upset about that, too.

This Tribe Needs An Enema!

Well, maybe just the chief. Because he is full of you know what. The chicken variety. I came home from the BC meeting so mad I had to literally pray all the way home. My gosh! Grrrr...

**************

Shael was sitting here watching Back To The Future when I got home tonight. She's really into it. It's the first time she's ever seen it. Amazing. The part where Doc is trying to hook up the line to the car and the wind blows a branch over the line she goes "Oh no! All kinds of things keep happening!" This shows me that this movie is timeless, no pun intended. It's over 20 years old and still has first time watchers sitting on the edge of their seats wondering what's going to happen next. How many of you remember the first time you saw it? I saw it at the mall, over by Monkey Ward, while my Mom had her Mary Kay booth set up and she gave me and my best friend (the ever elusive "N" ha ha) money and free reign to do whatever. We went to the movies! Back to the Future or Footloose? Well, she'd already seen Footloose, so we chose BTTF. Talk about memories. I really don't remember who I went to see Footloose with.

I'm even letting Shael stay up 30 minutes after her bedtime to watch the ending. Since it's on ABC Family, it's taking forever, what with 3 minutes of commercials every 5 minutes of movie. Isn't that irritating?

I Have Nothing To Say Either

Yet I feel compelled to type away like I did. I'm eating a piece of toast with home made pear butter because I'm out of butter. The pear butter is good, even if it is a little heavy on the cloves and it sort of makes my mouth numb when I eat it. Maybe I should give a jar of it to Mr. Magnet who has a tooth ache. Mike doesn't like cloves, so it keeps him out of it. Shael thinks that since it's pear butter and not apple butter than it is not fit for consumption. So that keeps her out of it. Fine. I'll eat it if no one else will. I, after all, picked the pears, peeled, cored, and chopped the pears. Cooked them, mashed them and mixed them with spices to make the butter. Then canned them. Oh, yeah, you better believe I'll eat it.

I think my instant rice has had sufficient time to absorb all the boiling hot water so I'm off to eat the rest of my breakfast.

Toodle-oo!

How Do You Do?

I do just fine. Now that Mikey made it home last night. He came home with no turkey. Which I think is okay, I really wasn't looking forward to the large tail feather spread he would want to hang on the wall somewhere in this house. How about inside the walk in closet? When I was growing up, my Dad had (and still does) his own room. He kept a huge table in there that was always covered with a variety of stuff. Bullets, empty shot gun shells, paper work, screw drivers neatly lined up by size. He'd built a vise onto the edge that always seemed to have a bunch of high powered magnets attatched to it that I loved playing with. Anytime anything got broken, whether it was fixable or not, it was taken "to Daddy's table" to be ignored for a few months then finally either fixed or pronounced dead and thrown away. He also had two trees in there. Yes, trees. They are still there to this day. One on each side of the table. They are real trees, cedars that he cut down himself, striped of all needles and bark and sanded smooth with these branches sticking out in all directions, with coats, hats, and binoculars hanging off them. He even has these two hornets nests he found still attatched to little branches stashed up in the tops of each tree. There's also an assortment of hand drawn pictures and cards given through out the years from me, my sister, all the grandkids, and there's photographs stuck here and there all over that big table. On one wall there's this huge picture of us three kids and my Mom back when I was about 2 or 3 years old. My Mom was hacked because it was suppose to be a picture of just us three kids but I was too scared and wouldn't get my picture taken unless she was holding me. So, there we are, Mom with this huge scowl on her face and me with tears on my cheeks and my brother and sister smiling away like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. I mean, this picture is huge. Around 3 X 3-1/2. Feet. On another wall there's the guns, bows, arrows, deer antlers, and last but not least, turkey tail feathers. Spread out with the beards tacked onto the center. All over this chair that's who knows how old, yet somehow still comfortable to this day. Back when they had little house dogs, that's where you'd always find one of them. Curled up in that chair. That room, it has it's own smell, it's own ambiance, it's own sounds. That room saved my Mother from the pain of having that stuff strewn around the rest of the house.

Mike, on the other hand, doesn't have a room like this. We have a spare bedroom that is 100% cram packed with junk. Most of that junk is not really junk, but Mike's music equipment. Amps, guitar cases, more amps. Mic stands, cords, pedals, mics. Then there's the junk, like these stupid golf bags and clubs (and he doesn't even play golf) that he found at a flea market and thought was a good buy, thinking he could sell it and make some profit. Some more non junk like all my sewing supplies and all my canning supplies and my great Aunt Clara's china carefully packed away in boxes. If Mike were to say, have a deer head he wanted to stuff and display, there would be a fight as to where this deer head would end up. He would argue for the living room. I would say absolutely not. Under no circumstance do I ever want to see any part of a deer in my living room. He was already looking for a place to hang that turkey tail section. Mike needs his own room. He's got so much stuff, he needs his own 30 X 30 building.

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Can you say "Oops"? Mike called me at work around 4:30 asking me to pick Shael up because he was still at work and would be for another hour or so. He thought I'd be getting off in another 30 minutes. Wrong. I worked over tonight, too and didn't make it to pick Shael up until 5:45. She'd forgotten her house key to my parent's house and their spare key wasn't there, it was left in the house where it wouldn't do a person any good. So, when she got off the bus at 3:30, she had to sit there and wait outside until 5:45 for me to pick her up. She came bounding out of my Dad's Suburban that he wasn't driving today and said "FINALLY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" She said she laid on the porch and took a nap for a while but kept getting woke up every time a car would drive by. Then she got uncomfortable on the hard concrete and got in the Suburban.

Now we are fighting over her social studies studies. These are her vocab words for social studies this week: aristocracy, democracy, Australia, Oceania, demagogues, oligarchy, epic, myths, acropolis, comedies. I don't think 6th grade was this hard when I was in 6th grade. I don't think I'd ever heard the word "demagogues" until high school. Last weeks bonus words were: Odysseus, acropolis, aristocracy, Hellenistic, and multicultural. Ooo-kay. I'm really not sure if I would be able to pass 6th grade myself if I were to take Shael's tests for her. Gee willakers. In math this semester they have covered algebra and geometry.

Shael is giving me the definitions of her vocab words. For epic she said "A long story poem" then under her breath she added "A long boring story". I believe I have to agree with her there. Especially when it comes to Homer. Lord, if she learns about Beowulf next, I'll totally sympathize with her. Empathize more like it. I learned about that boring "epic" when I was in high school and my Dad was amazed because he said he learned about that boring epic when he was in college. Now it's probably taught in middle school. That makes me wonder what the heck they teach in college now a days. Guess I'll find out soon enough, won't I?

I'd Like To Give The World A Coke

I would like to amend my list of movies I could watch over and over. Reality Bites has got to be #1. Numero uno, frijoles. Yes, I just called you all a bunch of beans. Dirty Dancing ranks up there somewhere. My lucky night tonight! Dirty Dancing on WE then right after Reality Bites. TWICE! Reality Bites two times in a row. That way I can watch the parts I missed the first time tonight when I was making something to eat for me and Shael and when my sister in law called and talked for a while. How dare Shael need to eat and my sister in law call while I'm watching a movie I've seen 3 or 4 times? The nerve! I'M KIDDING, frijoles. Sonya, you can call any time.

Ethan Hawke just oozes sex appeal in this movie. Literally drips off his greasy hair. Ach! I do not understand myself. No big news there, right? I drool over these greasy, thug looking intellectuals yet marry the exact opposite. I love long hair on a guy. My guy shaves his head. With a razor. Reading books that don't include pictures of half naked girls on motorcycles (actual books with a hard cover, not a slick paper magazine cover), that's a big turn on for me. My guy, well, it's the magazines with half naked girls and the bikes. Go figure. But, I love my guy. Bald head and magazines and everything.

Gen X-ers. My generation. Have we done anything to change the world? Made it a better place? I hope I am.

Look at that bird nest! It rests right on the latch. What was that bird thinking? 

My grown up little girl at her band concert. 

She's Back Again!

Loads of laundry washed today....1
Dishes washed.................................0
Surfaces dusted...............................0
Pieces of clutter picked up.............0
Floors vacuumed.............................0

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I had such high hopes. Instead Aunt Flo showed up at my doorstep Friday morning and today was spent huddled up in bed. I went to the church this morning around 11:00 and prayed, but other than that, nada. What a productive day. At least Mike was out of town for Aunt Flo's visit. He hates it when she shows up. I think she's getting comfortable coming around more often because this is the fourth time she's been here since October. Amazing!

me me me

I have been completely self absorbed this week. I've not even checked another blog all week long. I've posted on mine every day, I have checked my email for any comments. I forgot to buy dress shoes for my daughter. Where has my head been? Up my own butt, apparently.

Here's a good way to pat myself on the back. Nice things I have done for others this week. My newest list.

1. Held the door open for an old lady at church.

2. Told a young lady at church (mother of a 7 year old, a set of 5 year old twins and a 4 year old. All girls) how pretty she looked.

3. Told my friend how great her boobs were. (lol)

4. Mailed a card to an old lady who is house bound.

5. Gave my brother a birthday card with a check inside. (Hey, even though it was post dated, it's the thought that counts, right?)

6. Restored my daughter's bruised psyche after a mean old teacher got on to her.

Well, there ya go. Go me.

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As you might have deduced from #5 on my ego trip list, today is my brother's birthday. Happy 37th, Brub.

**************

We had a little bit of excitement today at work. Don't give us too much excitement there, we might all go into shock if you do. I won't go into many details, since it's kind of a confidential thing, but I can give the basics and you can catch my drift. One of my babies has this set of parents who are young and, well...They're young. And unmarried. They break up (she told me so blase, like it was nothing to break up with your baby's daddy) and he went all cuh-razy on her then tried to steal the baby. Hello protective order. Good-bye life as they knew it. Well, she didn't bring the baby in for several days in a row and we knew something was up. Yesterday she called and told us all about it, and today she brought the baby back and gave us our own original protective order for our files. No one but her and her baby's grandpa were to pick the baby up. No problem. You have to be buzzed in, so he wasn't going to be getting in if he stopped by. Then the director and the older kids take off on a field trip for the morning. Ten minutes before they get back, the phone rings. "Day Care. This is Stacie" "Hi, Stacie! Can I talk to George?" (NOT baby's real name) Dead silence on both ends of the line. Then he asked me if the mom had brought the baby back yet and I told him no. I didn't know what else to say. I'm a terrible liar so I'm not sure if he even believed me. Then he told me to have the mom call him at home the next time I saw her. That was it. When the director got back I told him immediately that the dad had called wanting to talk to the baby and he said "WHAT? He called HERE?" He went straight in and called the cops because on the protective order it states that the dad is to make no contact whatsoever with the baby. Great. Then I had to go in to the office and answer questions to the cops over the phone. But as soon as they found out that it was an Indian baby, they pulled their hands back real quick and told us that it was a Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) jurisdiction. So, my director calls the Bureau and they say it's a Delaware County jurisdiction since the protective order was issued in Delaware County and the call was made from Delaware County. Basically, they just said to let the mother know the dad tried to make contact with the baby, tell her to document it and to tell her attorney about it. That was it. My director was already gone for the day when the mother got there and I had to tell her. The look on her face made my heart go out to her. Sheer anger with a touch of fear. Fear that he could take her baby away and she'd never see it again. Yep, I know that fear. I've seen it in the eyes of my brother before when his little girl was a baby.

************

That was my day. How was yours?

I'm So Glad It's Friday

It means that tomorrow is Saturday! Yay! The only plans I have are of the house cleaning variety. Not that I'm looking forward to that, but I am getting sick of seeing this house messy. I might go try for some more wild onions, I don't know. I saw a snake in the road the other day so now I'm kind of leary about walking out in the woods.

*********

As I mentioned yesterday, Mike left at 1:00. Last night was Shael's band concert, something he was willing to forego. A friend of mine mentioned to me the other day that parental guilt is the worse thing invented. Yep, I agree. And I was waist deep in it yesterday when Shael calls me after school to tell me she didn't have any dress shoes to wear to her concert. Right now she only owns one pair of shoes and these are wearing out quickly. I'm hoping they'll last until school is out. She had picked out a new outfit to wear at my Mom's store but she didn't have any shoes to wear with it. My Mom helped out and called my sister in law because her and Shael wear the same size. She was going to be there anyway because her daughter was playing in the fourth grade recorder band. (I know you all are jealous because you didn't get to hear them play) When I talked to Mom on the phone I could tell in her tone that she was upset with me for not having Shael more prepared. I'm sure she was thinking that she would have had me set up better than that, with shoes, hose, and dress two weeks before the concert. And if that's what she was thinking, she's right, she would have. Not fair to have your own parent make you feel guilty over your own lack of parenting skills. I just forgot all about this concert. Shael was upset with me for not calling and informing her Aunt Roni and her other Grandma. I felt a little better when I remembered that Shael had told her other Grandma about it the other day. I just hadn't called to remind her. But I felt that stab of parental guilt when Shael said to me "You mean Aunt Roni won't be there?" Sorry, Roni, I robbed you out of the opportunity to hear her play.
Shael did a good job, too. She sat on the bleachers waiting for her turn and didn't talk to her neighbors or even fidget. She just sat there holding her clarinet. Mom criticized the way she was sitting, her hair, her shoes. I kept trying to counter all her criticisms. "Well, look at all the other girls, they are all sitting like that, with their legs wide apart, and their elbows on their knees." "She likes her hair and I'm not about to make her do something with it that she doesn't want to do. At least she looks good with it all pulled back from her face like that." "You must've told Sonya to bring some black shoes because those are black! Her feet aren't showing where she's sitting anyway." Sometimes my Mother exhausts me.

I sat by my friend of mine the whole evening. First time in forever that I'd even seen her! Nice boob job, girl! We sat and giggled through the whole thing, even when both our kids were doing their thing. Another one of our friends was sitting behind us using her camcorder and we kept talking and teasing with her, too in between songs. After it was over, the woman who was sitting directly behind Mom ( her husband was sitting behind me) said to us "I would love to just sit in a corner and listen to you all when you get together. I bet you have a great time." That is not the first time, or even the 5th, that someone has said that to me when I'm with a friend. It seems like when I'm with certain friends the comedian in me comes out. Maybe it's just because they laugh at all my stupid jokes, who knows? One time in a restaurant, as this man and woman leave, the man stopped at our table and said "I want to thank you for a very entertaining dinner" and walked off! His wife did not seem as entertained. Another time Diva and I got tickled in a Yankee Candle store and couldn't control ourselves and this woman told us "It's so good to hear people laugh like that. Don't worry about disturbing anyone, I'm enjoying listening to you."

Well, as I was going to say earlier and interrupted myself, Mike left at 1:00. Shael's band concert started at 7:00 and Shael had to be there by 6:30. I pick Shael up at my Mom's and my Mom rides with us and off we go. A little early, but no big deal there. As I'm pulling out of their dirt road, my car does something weird. It's like it hesitates, won't shift into second or something. Oh, great! Mike hasn't even been gone 12 hours and the car messes up. We went ahead and went on to the concert and when I got their I remember Mike saying something about my car having a transmission fluid leak and I wonder if maybe it's low on that. After the concert, I had my brother check it and he said it was low. I drove it to my Dad's garage, even though he's gone hunting, too, my Uncle was still there. He checked it and put a quart in it for me. I was a little miffed at Mike for mentioning it but not doing something about it. He asked me when the last time I'd checked it and I told him how about never. And that was it! He didn't check it, he didn't tell me how to check it, or how to put some in it. Just left it alone, expecting me to raise the hood and investigate. I have never been mechanically inclined. No, I don't expect the car to go forever without it ever being checked, but my Dad always did that and I never had to even think about it. Then I got married and my husband took over that duty. Same husband, but now he suddenly thinks it's not his duty anymore? If he's going to think that, he needs to let me know so I can make other arrangements. What I really hope happens is that my Mother, since she was there with me when it happened, will tell my Dad what happened and what Mike said to me about the leak and how he didn't do a thing before he left for his hunting trip and my Dad will say something to Mike. Something along the lines of "You really need to keep track of the fluids in Stacie's car, especially if you are going to be out of town for a few days". I can say something once or twice and he'll claim I'm nagging. My Dad tells him the same thing one time and he does it. He really respects my Dad and will do just about anything he asks on the first ask, without even griping! I'm not saying Mike doesn't respect me, but somehow coming from his wife, he thinks it's nagging.

Oh, and get this, when my Brother opened up the hood over at the school, there was a freaking bird nest under the hood! A bird nest! Shael asked me if I was going to take it off, but I have this phobia about bird nests. I won't touch them with a ten foot pole. Well, maybe a 10 foot pole, because I have used a broom to knock one down and my broom isn't quite 10 feet. That'd be one heck of a broom, wouldn't it? A Paul Bunyon broom, or something. I'm planning on waiting until I get to work and donning some latex gloves before I remove this bird nest. But not before I take a picture of it, though!

Gobble Gobble

It's official. I've become a turkey hunting widow for a few days. Mike leaves today at 1:00 in the afternoon and won't be home until Sunday night. Three nights of sleeping alone in that king size bed. Shael will probably ask to sleep with me. And I'll probably say okay.
I stayed home from church last night to spend a little time with Mike before he left today. Usually when I do that, it back fires and I end up wishing I'd gone on to church. But last night was different. We actually spent time together, talking and laughing and hatching a practical joke for one of his co-workers that I've never even met.

When he got home and I saw that Shael wasn't with him, I was at first a little disappointed because I thought we might spend the evening together as a family unit. But, that disappointment quickly gave way to the thought of spending an entire evening alone with Mike. First we went in to Seneca to grab a bite to eat. He was heading for our usual haunt, the Dairy Cafe when we drove by Barney's Kitchen (the old TeePee). The smell made us turn around and go there instead. We had steaks! Real steaks. Cooked over a grill and served with a baked potato and a salad. When we walked in, every person in that room looked and stared at us. I looked up at Mike and said "We've been gone too long because now we're having to start all over again".

Let me explain. Seneca is a town with no secrets. If you have a secret you want to keep a secret, then you'd better keep it buried deep down and not even admit it to yourself. Every body knows everything about every body in that town. From January to August of 1993 I worked in Seneca. Mike worked at the same place from January to September. We got married in June of that year. We were quickly absorbed into the community and when we would walk into a store or a restaurant, people would look up then either wave or call out to us, then carry on with what ever it was that they were doing. An outsider could be spotted a mile away. Even though we were only there a short time, for several years, anytime we'd go into Seneca for anything people would remember us and ask us how we'd been. But, then we moved to the Grove area and hardly make it to Seneca much anymore, even though it still isn't that far. So, when we walked in to Barney's Kitchen last night, I could read it in every person's eyes: OUTSIDER. We were outsiders. Even though the waitress was friendly enough, and the hostess was, too, we were still outsiders. No one stopped to visit at our booth. No one stopped us out in the parking lot to gab or catch up. We walked in, we ate, we paid, we walked out. End of story. The food was delicious, though. Outsiders or not, we'll go back.

Now, on to the plotting part of my story. Dollar General is across the street from Barney's Kitchen, so before we went in to eat, we walked over and bought a little something for Mike's unsuspecting co-worker. Let me give you this guy's story in a nut shell. No wife, three kids, two of which live with him, one of which he pays child support on. Blows money like you wouldn't believe. Got a huge tax refund and blew it all within a week or two. Met a stripper at a titty bar, moved her into his house, loaned her a couple thou, then got sick of her and kicked her out. He said when she moved in she agreed to help keep the house clean and help pay for groceries and basic stuff like that. Well, she didn't stick to her part of the bargain, I guess because he said she wouldn't lift a finger around the house. I said it sounded like wife material to me! So, he kicks her out. A week later she calls him and guess what! She's pregnant. He knocked up the stripper! Now he's all bummed out. No wife, FOUR kids, two of which he'll be paying child support on and the other two will remain with him and now no money. Well, Mike's been riding him pretty hard about it the past couple days. Mike can be relentless when it comes to teasing. He was laughing about him again last night and I said "Hey, you ought to go buy some booties and hang them from him rear view window" Mike just laughed and laughed over that one and said "Good one, baby! I'll make a conniver out of you yet" So, we headed off to D.G. and while we were standing there deciding which booties to get, inspiration struck Mike and he wanted to get a thong to go along with the baby booties. Seeing as she was a stripper and all. So, he goes and picks one out (did ya'll know that D.G. carries an extensive selection of thongs?) then ends up making me pay for them. He tries to embarrass me at the check out and says loud enough for the cashier to hear "Can't wait to get you home, Baby" It didn't even phase the woman. She looked, and sounded as if she'd seen it all. Us buying booties and a thong was just another sale to her. When we got home, I tacked a white ribbon to the inside of both booties then hung them over the thong hanger. I even went as far as making a little bow out of ribbon and glued it to the hanger. Then I took it outside and hung it over Mike's rear view mirror so he wouldn't forget it this morning. It was dark when I hung it out there last night and it was dark when he took it down this morning, so none of the neighbors got the privilege of seeing it. Dang it.

Nasty

I think I did the most disgusting thing I've ever done (to date) today. It all started a couple weeks ago when some stray dog got whacked on the highway in front of the beauty shop. I'm assuming it was a stray because no one ever claimed it, just left it there to rot, right smack dab in front of the shop. Saturday, my sister in law was talking about how bad the smell was getting. Yeah. It gets grosser. When I got to the beauty shop to wax my lady stash (much to the relief of Mike who told me "It's about time!") my sister in law had been there. She did the most gross thing. She bagged it up in a trash sack with the intention of burying it the next day. But she pulled the bag up next to the shop! The smell was 10 X worse then. She must've forgotten about it because when I was up there today it was still there. So, to be the good daughter, I went out there to it, took a deep breath before I got to it and snagged my finger on the drawstring, avoiding looking at it as I did, and drug it off. Oh, man. Sick. I never did smell anything, I stayed up wind of it the whole time. But there were maggots spilling out of it. Gag! And it was almost liquid. Hoo-ie! Anyway, I drug it way off so now if my sis in law wants to bury it, she can walk up there and do it. At least now Mom won't smell it everytime she steps outside at the beauty shop. Isn't that the grossest thing?
************
You know, I never noticed that my Easter bunny looked like the Trix rabbit. How funny! He does, now that I think about it. I used a picture out of a coloring book for a model.
*********

I'm going to check on getting Shael put on my insurance. If it's less than $35 a week then she's on. If it's more than $35 a week, she's going on Mike's. Her tonsils look like a baby's bottom. The doctor mentioned it and then quickly added that it wasn't covered with the Indian hospital and "did I have insurance?" I looked at my own tonight, and they are as they always are, swollen, every day of the year. I don't know why. Every time I go to the doctor he mentions how big they are and I say they always look like that. I always get the same response, too. "Hmmmm." A loaded comment from a doctor, you know? So, I thought since I was looking at my own, I'd check on Shael's. Her's were not only swollen, but covered with tiny white blister like spots. Oh, no! I asked her if her throat had been sore and she told me not really, but kind of. Great! After 34 days of antibiotics, I really don't think she would benefit from another dose. But, I don't want her to walk around with strep throat, either. Hopefully we can get her some insurance and take her to a different doctor and get something done. Like have the baby's bottom removed. I would like to have my own baby's bottom removed, also. Now that I have insurance, maybe I can get that done.

Shael needs to see a dentist, and the eye doctor soon, also. Those are going to have to wait until she's out of school so she won't miss more school than she already has. Her eyes! When are they going to level off and quit changing prescription? She's only worn glasses for 2-1/2 years and they've already changed twice. All this anxiety, bad eyes, bad teeth business did not come from me, that's for sure. She's like Mike's Mom all over again. Lovely thought, isn't it? To be raising your mother in law? RFLMAO

My attempt at drawing an Easter bunny. 

It's Been A While

I don't know what I was thinking when I said I'd go to the city wide garage sale Saturday. After the first hour I was ready to go. But, oh, no, we didn't go. Not until after the 5th hour. In five hours, I bought:

a sweater for Shael because she'd not come prepared and was cold.....$0.50

four hats at 2 bucks a pop............$8.00

two bottles of water............$1.50

a large bag of kettle corn............$5.00

a pair of pink plastic flip flops.............$0.10

Grand total.......................$15.10

I didn't buy one single book. Can you believe that? I hardly even saw any books anyway. I did see the final book in the Left Behind series for sale and the lady and I discussed it for a minute or so. Actually, the woman was discussing it with two of her friends and I spoke up and gave them my opinion and they looked at me like "Who asked you?" at first but quickly warmed up to me (they were church ladies, after all. No, not the Dana Carvey type of church lady. Isn't that special?). It seemed that each garage sale, and there were at least 250, I only saw junk. Maybe the good stuff was picked over already, we didn't get there until 7:00 in the a.m. Lots of knick knacks (and I certainly don't need or want another knick knack) and clothes. Since clothes was mainly what my sister in law was looking for, clothes for Nikolas and clothes for Sage, she was content to dig through endless piles of clothes. Oh, hey, she bought a toy at Jim Jackson's house. Who's Jim Jackson? Well, he's only the most famous news anchor in Joplin! I told Sonya I should have taken her picture with him, I had my camera in my purse. If it had been Gary Bandy, I would have taken a picture for shore! Gary Bandy has the most extensive musical knowledge of any person I know of. He's like a music encyclopedia. And now he's a weather man. Not just a weather man, but a meteorologist.

If you are driving through Neosho, you don't think too much about the hills. If you are walking through Neosho, you can do nothing but think about the hills. If you are waking up the next morning and your legs feel like your calves are being stabbed repeatedly with ice picks, you are cursing those hills. My dear little sister in law says she felt no ill affect on her legs. B**CH! No! I'm kidding! But it's not fair! Her legs don't hurt her one iota and mine are hurting something awful. Sunday morning Shael told me that she cried herself to sleep the night before because her legs hurt so bad. Even today, mine still hurt. I don't even want Mike to know how bad they hurt because I know he'd make fun of me. Just gotta make sure he doesn't watch me getting out of bed. Watch those first few steps, they're a killer!

We met my brother in Neosho and Sonya put all her treasures in his Blazer and they left to go pick up my Grandma and take her home from the beauty shop. Shael and I went to Joplin to find her an Easter dress. Do women not wear dresses anymore? We found lots of skirts, but none looked flattering on Shael. She finally decided on a pair of slacks and a blouse to match. The trousers were from the Juniors and the blouse was from the Womens. The best part being that they were both on clearance and I spent $22.08 on her whole outfit after taxes. The pants have to be hemmed, but what's new? I'll probably end up spending the same amount on shoes that I did on the whole outfit. It's a very cute outfit, it makes her butt look good. My eleven year old with a grown up looking booty? It's true. Unfair, but true.

Mike had gone on a 300 mile bike run Saturday and when he got home that night and told me how many miles he rode, my flat Indian butt hurt like heck just thinking about it. 1/3 into that ride I would have been begging for mercy. "Please, Mike. Call a cab, I want to go home on four wheels"

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Friday night we went into Grove and ate at Pizza Hut. On the way home, Mike sneezed this huge gut wrenching sneeze. I was driving, thank goodness. When he sneezed he thought it felt like it dislodged some, ahem, snot. So when he felt another sneeze coming and he couldn't find any napkins or Kleenex in the car, he stuck his face down his shirt for the second one. Oh, gross! He said it was all over his chest. "Didn't get on my shirt, though, that's pretty lucky" He dropped his shirt down so it wouldn't touch the chunks of snot spewed all over his chest. He continued looking for a napkin or something to wipe it on and I knew I only had a wadded up used Kleenex in my purse. So, I did what any loving wife would do. I reached over and rubbed his shirt up against his chest and got it nice and wet. "Oh, don't worry baby! Just rub it in" I honestly think it made him mad. He didn't talk much to me the rest of the way home. We were almost home anyway and I was halfway expecting him to take the shirt off when we got home and rub it on me. He might not have thought it was funny, but I sure did. Who says I don't have a sense of humor? Mike does, that's who. I thought it was dang funny and I laughed a good two minutes over that one. I don't know why he doesn't think I have a sense of humor.