Archive for January 22, 2011

Baby Shower

I was going to go to daughter’s baby shower this afternoon. Her coworkers were throwing it at a BBQ place, and I would have loved to have gone. Former DIL was there, along with darling granddaughter, who informed me that she was anxiously waiting to see me.

I haven’t had BBQ for awhile. Maybe I’ve been feeling a little down and depressed because of the lack of BBQ in my diet. On the other hand, I might be feeling a little down and depressed because I’m broke and have approximately zero chance of finding a better job right now, and it could have absolutely nothing to do with low blood levels of BBQ. (Shrug) I can fix low blood levels of BBQ for under $10, something that even a fairly brokeass person can afford. The broke and unhireable part? Not so much. Better work with something I can fix.

I had been watching the grandsons all day. SwampMan had been feeling under the weather, so we were doing our best to be quiet all morning while SwampMan napped. He ALWAYS seems to be feeling under the weather when the grandsons are here! We watched cartoons. We went to Burger King and their playground. I had awakened this morning with a headache, probably weather related, and hearing SpongeBob’s high pitched inane laughter all day didn’t do a THING for it.

Daddy picked up the boys about 4 p.m., the time the shower started. I still needed to feed the livestock, water livestock, gather eggs, turn off the outside water to the uninsulated PVC lines, drain those lines, feed the dogs, feed the cat… the time I finished, it was after 6 p.m. I needed a shower (of the hot soapy kind). And I was STILL @ 45 minutes away from the shower (of the baby kind) that had started at 4!

As you may have guessed, I didn’t go. I figured it was probably over or had wound waaaaaay down by that point.

So, here I am, just me and the computer. I cooked chicken-fried steak with rice, peas, and gravy for SwampMan and me for dinner. SwampMan has headed back to bed. The dishwasher is washing. My ironing is lurking on my ironing board waiting to be ironed, reproducing while my back is turned. How many pairs of khakis do I own anyway? I hate ironing. A person of good character and industrious habits would jump on that wrinkled pile immediately so that it would be done and out of the way and not impinging on my peripheral vision. Sad to say, it appears that my character isn’t good at all!

I suppose I could vacuum the floors, but I don’t want to disturb SwampMan. I am VERY solicitous of SwampMan, particularly when it comes to not disturbing him by doing things that I don’t really want to do anyway.

Okay, fine. I’ll do some of the damn ironing.

I hope daughter’s baby shower was fun.

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