Back to the Basement
Tonight I arrived in the great town of Nesbit, MS just after 10:00. I had to make more stops than normal during my trip up from Hattiesburg, what with there being a 6-inch-long baby jumping up and down on my bladder like it's one of those bouncy air tent things. I also stopped to get food in Grenada-- or maybe it was Winona. Yeah, it was Winona. I wanted to make it to Grenada, but felt a bathroom break coming on and couldn't make it the extra 20 miles, so I went to the McDonald's in Winona. Since I hadn't had anything to eat, I thought I would have one of their delicious "southern chicken sandwiches." I had one the day I went to the hospital, and they are pretty good. It's a direct rip-off of the Chic-Fil-A sandwich. The menu said that the meal was $5.49, but the girl told me my total was $6.69. I asked her why it was $1.20 higher, and she said they had charged me extra because I requested lettuce on my sandwich. Extra. For lettuce? I told her nevermind, and just left. Maybe they could get by with charging a quarter for lettuce if they must, but they must've been charging a dollar for it. That's some fuctup repugnant bullsh*t right there!
You may recall that the entire point of coming up here tonight instead of tomorrow night was because my dad was planning to go fishing in the morning, and I wanted to join him. Well, he's not going. It's supposed to be windy, so he agreed to chair some kind of b.s. safety meeting at his work. I don't know when he decided this, but nobody told me until I was up here. It was Tim's day off today. I could've stayed home with him. Instead I ventured out into the world-- a treacherous world filled with sassy teenagers trying to overcharge me for lettuce.
Not much changes up here. My mom has the most ridiculous dog on the face of the planet, as usual. The previous most-ridiculous-dog-on-the-planet was mauled to death by the neighbors' giant four legged beasts of death. Something told me to bring my camera with me, but I left it on the dining room table. I will have to somehow get a picture of the most ridiculous dog on the planet, so that you can behold the ridiculousness. It looks like a hamster. I'm just waiting to trip over the little plastic ball that it rolls around the house in.
There are also a bunch of baby chickens. Fifty of them, to be exact. Mom's most recent attempts to hatch chicks in the incubator haven't been successful, and the co-op near here doesn't carry many chickens these days, so she mail orders them now. They are huddled together under a light bulb in a big wire cage in the basement where this blog was first hatched. They're so cute. That's something I miss from childhood-- baby chickens. So furry. So sweet. So good with dumplins.
Just kidding. Sorta.
Being up here has me feeling all nostalgic. I'm sure it'll wear off when my mom gets pissed at me for not washing the dishes, or for leaving my socks in the floor, or when she starts giving me advice and every sentence begins with the words, "You need to..." That's always my cue to start packing.
Did I tell you I'm attempting to grow tomato plants? They're getting big. I'll post some pics when I get back home.
You may recall that the entire point of coming up here tonight instead of tomorrow night was because my dad was planning to go fishing in the morning, and I wanted to join him. Well, he's not going. It's supposed to be windy, so he agreed to chair some kind of b.s. safety meeting at his work. I don't know when he decided this, but nobody told me until I was up here. It was Tim's day off today. I could've stayed home with him. Instead I ventured out into the world-- a treacherous world filled with sassy teenagers trying to overcharge me for lettuce.
Not much changes up here. My mom has the most ridiculous dog on the face of the planet, as usual. The previous most-ridiculous-dog-on-the-planet was mauled to death by the neighbors' giant four legged beasts of death. Something told me to bring my camera with me, but I left it on the dining room table. I will have to somehow get a picture of the most ridiculous dog on the planet, so that you can behold the ridiculousness. It looks like a hamster. I'm just waiting to trip over the little plastic ball that it rolls around the house in.
There are also a bunch of baby chickens. Fifty of them, to be exact. Mom's most recent attempts to hatch chicks in the incubator haven't been successful, and the co-op near here doesn't carry many chickens these days, so she mail orders them now. They are huddled together under a light bulb in a big wire cage in the basement where this blog was first hatched. They're so cute. That's something I miss from childhood-- baby chickens. So furry. So sweet. So good with dumplins.
Just kidding. Sorta.
Being up here has me feeling all nostalgic. I'm sure it'll wear off when my mom gets pissed at me for not washing the dishes, or for leaving my socks in the floor, or when she starts giving me advice and every sentence begins with the words, "You need to..." That's always my cue to start packing.
Did I tell you I'm attempting to grow tomato plants? They're getting big. I'll post some pics when I get back home.
My daughter brought to my attention how many sentences I started with "You oughta............" so I don't do that anymore.
Now, I say "You know what you COULD do......"
I'm sure she likes that much better.
Posted by
Anonymous |
5:45 PM
It's quite annoying. My mom's gotten better at it, but I don't think there's hope for ever curing her. She even points out things I "need to" do when she comes to MY house. For example, if she hadn't visited recently, I wouldn't know that I need to dust the ceiling fans and re-stain the wood around the front door.
Posted by
Mommy Needs a Xanax |
10:42 PM