Bugs don't bite me. As the parent of three girls I can tell you...technically from The Rules According to Country Girl...that bugs prefer blue-eyed people. Don't ask me why, but they do. So as a brown-eyed brunette I've never had to much worry about it. Fourth of July this year? Something happened. I have over 100 bites on my left ankle alone; that many more over the rest of my body. This Sunday I had to have a steroid shot before I ended up with ptomaine or something. (In case the bugs ate some bad fish.)
The house phone has been out since July 17. July. Seventeenth. They're laying new phone lines along the main road and...I'm not a priority. The repair guy came last night, clipped something, announced the phone repaired and left. It still doesn't work and guess what? TODAY'S HIS OFF DAY!! He'll be here tomorrow.
Beat her face with his fist. Repeatedly.
There were TWO shouting matches out in their yard where I gave Joy, the blonde from My Cousin Earl, a run for her money. Beasty Boy's dad weighs well over 300 pounds and at one point asked me, as I stepped into his girth, "What? You're gonna take a swing at me?" I kept encouraging him to call the authorities. (Gum, damnit, I didn't have a wad of gum to smack on as I made my dire predictions.)
There WILL be a legal letter and HA! I showed them! I was the last person on the block SPEAKING TO THEM!!!
I rented a dumpster eight days ago. Spent two days furiously pulling stuff out of the garages and burning/chunking/stacking. Then I quit. It's all still out there in the driveway. Do I care?
No. And every SECOND it's out there PISSES OFF the mean dad next door who MADE his kid violent. I hate to back down.
Today is The Big Boy's 50th birthday. I have not lifted a finger. About the first year we were together, something came up about something and I made a birthday remark to be informed, "I don't put much stock in birthdays."
I persevered for several years, and in spite of his complaining, he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. His 40th birthday we all went to an historical beer garden a few miles up the road and I bought him a lovely piece of blues-themed art. (Later on, he asked if I still had the receipt so that I could return it and put the money in the bank. If you point this out, he will look offended and insist he was joking but after a while...see if I care.) So today's his birthday and I'm not a salmon willing to keep struggling upstream so I guess I'll make homemade fettucine and bread and a good salad and That Damn Cake and the kids can come. Unless of course...The Big Kid gets here early enough and we have a celebratory drink in which case...
...I could end up at the Mexican restaurant. Again. I've seen it happen ;)