The spud had her cracked tooth pulled today. Luckily it was a baby tooth and only attached at the gums, so they shot her up with Novocaine and yanked it out. There was a lot of blood, but it didn’t bleed for long. The only downside was as we were standing in line at the check-out desk, the spud turned an interesting shade of green and told me that her stomach hurt. "Okay," I said blithely. "I’ll get you a soda on the way to school." She tugged on my sleeve frantically and informed me that she was about to throw up. I directed her to the bathroom. She went in and treated the whole office to a very loud gagging sound (she gets that from her mother), and came out a few minutes later a little less green. At that point, I decided she wouldn’t be going back to school today, and we came home where she got into bed, sipped gingerale, and watched TV.
I cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed the entire upstairs, and did some light reading. I don’t much care for days when I’m home because the spud isn’t feeling well. Unlike days when I pretend to be sick, the time off is wholly unexpected, and if I don’t do some sort of housework, I feel guilty. Of course, once the housework was done, all bets were off. I read some, surfed some, and got caught up on the last week and a half of "The Bold and the Beautiful." About which, I have this to say: Cut the apron strings, Eric, you self-righteous, sanctimonious asshole. And get a personality, Macy. Brooke will have Thorne, and you can all go to Hell.
In any case, the day flew by, and before I knew it, Fred was home from work. We lay on the bed and talked for a little while (no, that’s not a euphemism for sex), and waited for the sprinkler guy and the cleaning lady we’re getting an estimate from to show up. The cleaning lady was supposed to be here after 3, and she never showed up. The sprinkler guy showed up around 4:45 and fixed the leaky line. While we were hanging around waiting, Fred called Schwan’s and asked them to cancel our service. Does the rest of the country have Schwan’s? It’s a yellow truck that stops by every two weeks, and fills your order for frozen foods like chicken nuggets, pizzas, ice cream and the like. Their stuff is okay, but since you have to buy in bulk, not only do we end up with stuff that sits in the freezer taking up valuable space, but we always spend way more money than we’d like. The guy at headquarters tried his damnedest to talk Fred into staying with Schwan’s, but Fred was firm and didn’t budge. Which is more than I would have been able to do. The first time the guy said "But the food from Schwan’s is so yummy!" I would have folded like a… something that folds easily. A cheap suit? A house of cards? I don’t know, but you get the idea. I would have been signing up for every special that came down the pike, and then some. This in spite of the fact that the Schwan’s food is nothing to write home about. I’m a lily-livered, spineless fool when someone gets me on the phone.
I still hang up on telemarketers, though, so don’t get any bright ideas. I’m weak, not stupid. At least, that’s what I like to think.As I was sitting in front of my computer this afternoon, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, in the direction of the window to the right of my computer. I turned my head to look, but saw nothing. A few minutes later, another motion in that direction. This time when I looked, there was a big, scary redneck-looking Grizzly Adams type stomping through my front yard. Gave me quite a fright, I’ll tell you, until I realized that it was probably the pool guy come to take a sample of our pool water. I waited for him to ring the doorbell to ask me to let him into the backyard, but he never did. He apparently assumed no one was home, and simply left. By the way, here’s a picture of our pool from today. It’s much more impressive with the solar cover off:
Looks like sewage, doesn’t it?
The cleaning lady, as I mentioned before, never did show up. We waited until 5, and then Fred beeped the guy who — along with his gaggle of children — mows our lawn. Robyn, you’re saying, Why would the lawn guy give a flying fuck that the cleaning lady never showed up? Well, reader, it’s like this. She’s his mother, and she cleans houses in her spare time. Since we are the original Lazy Ass Family, we would like someone to come once a week and clean. Fred makes some pretty damn good money, and what better way to throw some of that money away than by hiring someone to clean for us? God knows I can think of better things to do than clean the toilet.
Like sit on my lazy ass.
And with that, I bid you good evening.
—–]]>