Mixed Nuts 1/24-2/2

It's been a long week, and then some. T-Bone is putting in some massive overtime (80 hours in one payweek, 92 in one week total) and I am getting so effin' bored that I think I'm going to start counting flowers on the wall. I have lost all ambition that I ever thought of possessing, so I haven't wanted to do anything. I have been dragging my dead ass to the computer long enough lately to get bored within 5 minutes. And as a self-professed internet junkie, that is a very bad thing.

I keep trying to talk myself down, berating myself for being such a lazy sack of you know what, and it isn't working. Thank goodness that at least my dishes really haven't piled up on me yet, and that I might be able to crawl out of my funk before they do.

On top of the lazy berating I've been doing, I've also been belittling the type of wife that I have been to T-Bone. I hate myself for allowing him to come home to a house that isn't spotless, while he is usually greeted by the sight of me lounging on the couch staring off into space. Maybe now that I have it all out, I will be able to pull myself back just enough to get the house into a spotless semblance of something that I won't be disgusted to look at. Really, it doesn't take much to disgust me, and I think I'm 2 levels below that point. Que sera sera, life is giving me lemons and I'm adding to the lemonade I'm making by crying into it.

I'm stronger than this, and I know it. I have no reason to be in this state, and come what may I will crawl out of it soon enough. Bare with me long enough, and you might possibly be able to forgive my horrifically depressing posts.

Enough of the crying over the non-spilt milk.. onto my mixed nuts!

~*~ At some point last week, T-Bone and I were driving home quite late on a back road to our house. Upon cresting a small knoll that rounds a slight bend in the road, we were faced with a deer in the road. Albeit, a dead deer, but STILL a deer. T-Bone locked up the brakes and braced for impact, which was the smartest move he could have made on the very narrow stretch of road that we were on. We didn't stop in time. Our car bumped and thumped its way over the deer. We were slowed to nearly nothing, but still moving. And as we stared at each other in horror, we heard the unmistakable sound of something dragging along the road as we were coasting. Something rather large being dragged along the road. That dead deer had the audacity, nay... the unmitigated gore... to lodge itself under our car, and allow it's barely rotting carcass a joy ride via our undercarriage. My mouth dropped onto my chest, and my hands started flapping wildly at T-Bone. "Stop the car! Stop, stop, STOP!! Get out and dislodge that thing! That is gross!" T-Bone looked at me in a mildly stupid manor, stopped the car, and moved the shifting lever into what I thought was Park. Nope. He did the manliest thing he could think of. He jammed the car into reverse, backed up a tad, threw it into drive, and punched the gas. I swallowed the reverse vomit that was gathering in my throat as we yet again thumped and bumped our way over that dead deer for the second time in less than thirty seconds. I stared at him as he drove in silence for at least 10 seconds, before offering a lame excuse about not being able to stop in time. Yeah, okay. That wasn't my problem. He should have pulled the carcass out from under the car by hand, instead of trouncing all over it again. He looked at me long and hard, between glancing at the road. And a typical T-Bone remark came from him. "Yeah, I could have. But tell me that wasn't the funniest thing ever." I must admit, we laughed a good one over the next 2 miles home.

~*~ We watched a few different movies over the past couple of weeks. I recommend them all (I wouldn't have watched them if I didn't think they were worth it) and urge you to view them at your leisure. Shaun of the Dead and Undertaking Betty made for a great Brit flick weekend. Both were pretty hilarious (although Shaun of the Dead was a tad bloody) and even made T-Bone laugh out loud. Although, he gets into a roaring fit of laughter over Disney Animations. We also watched Scary Movie 4, Van Helsing, and Number 23. Loved them, loved them. loved them!

~*~ Buckwheat chose to go to Pizza Hut today for lunch while we were out shopping. I'm not a big fan of the place, but he chose something other than the dreaded McD's, so I went without throwing a fit. As we were walking across the parking lot towards the entrance, T-Bone thought that Buckwheat would enjoy it if we swooped him into the air while holding his hands. T-Bone asked if I was holding tight, so I checked my grip and affirmed that systems were a go. On 3, we swung him lightly forward. T-Bone didn't do his own systems check, and his grip on Buckwheat was less than up to snuff. As Buckwheat floated delicately through the air on the upswing, T-Bone's grip slipped and he lost the little guy's hand. He gracefully returned to the earth in a small heap, so I scooped him up quickly and righted him. T-Bone was mortified, Buckwheat was bewildered, and I was laughing so hard that the urge to pee was very threatening. Thankfully, we weren't swinging him at more than our knee height, so it wasn't a fall that did more than let him know that he met pavement. As we walked in the door, T-Bone verbally envisioned the hostess greeting us with "Hey, aren't you the bad parents that just threw your kid onto the ground? We have a special table for people like you." And we are rightfully seated in the huge trash bin outside the door. He tends to have an overactive imagination at any given time.

~*~ Speaking of Pizza Hut, T-Bone was really vying for the Worst Father of the Year Award. As we were having a salad, Buckwheat saw Poppa eating an onion and asked for a bite. So T-Bone obliged. The little guy hung on long enough for the onion to bite him back three times as hard as he had chomped into it, before trying to scrape his tongue out of his mouth with his fingers. T-Bone sat there in horror while Buckwheat gagged with tears streaming down his face, and a big runner of drool extended nearly to the table from his lip, before jumping in to save the day. His only reasoning for offering the little guy the onion was "Well, he wanted it! And damn, those things are full of bite!"

~*~ On our way home from our shopping expedition today, we entered into a very small village that is known for State Troopers hanging out waiting to catch speeders. T-Bone adjusted his speed, although he was still nearly 7 mph over the speed limit. As we cruised into the busiest part of the town (it has a gas station right there, its only claim to fame), we spotted one of those go-getting Staties sitting around the bend. We breezed by, and I checked my rear view, letting out a slight sigh as we started to come up on the only Stop sign in the town. Out of instinct, I looked again, and what should I see? A big ole' Statie looking back at me. He was right behind us. I looked at T-Bone, and said "That's it. You've done it now. He's coming for you!" He giggled nervously, admitted that it was possible, and headed through the Stop sign after checking for traffic. We had just pulled through when we heard the unmistakable blip of the sirens, and our windows were awash in beautiful red and blues. He was pulling us over. I turned to T-Bone and asked if he was happy that he just had to go speeding through that section. He shifted uncomfortably, pulled out his wallet, and had me get the registration out of the glove box. (FYI- Your glove box never looks worse than when you are frantically searching for something in it that someone else wants post haste). The Statie sauntered up to the car, and T-Bone looked around nervously. The Trooper stood there for nearly 5 seconds before my oblivious hubby realized that the window was still up. Yeah, he gets pulled over so frequently that he doesn't know the drill. He puts the window down, and feigns ignorance when the young Trooper asked if he knew why he was being pulled over. And thank the powers that be that he didn't blurt out how he was going 7 mph over the posted speed limit. This young man just wanted to let us know that our brake light was out on the rear passenger side, and to give us a warning to get it fixed. Thanks goodness that the plates, registration, inspection, insurance, and licenses were all good to go. He ran it all, the good little doobie that he was.

~*~ After our humiliating stint on the side of the road while waiting for the Statie to make sure everything was clear, the Trooper hopped back into his big bad SUV as we started to pull out. Buckwheat was in the back seat, looking behind us. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, he squealed "Run Poppa RUN!!!" T-Bone started laughing like a mad man, as Buckwheat repeated his chant in the back seat. I had to wonder where on earth that came from inside his little mind. Right before the Trooper pulled off to head back to his waiting spot, I noticed that Buckwheat was frantically trying to escape his child harness and stand in his seat. I turned around, and with the voice of Satan I threatened my little guy. "You see that bad copper back there? If you don't sit down RIGHT NOW, he's going to come and take you away forever!!" It worked, he sat down and frantically tried to readjust his harness with more vigor than he was trying to get out of it. Cruel, yes. Effective? Even better, and rules out the cruelness.

I have more, but I think I'm turning in early tonight. Enjoy!