Dad, when discussing the blog: "You know, I think you're making a BIG mistake by having that God Damn bag on your head. You're a decent looking person". Me: "Gee thanks, Dad......what a compliment!!!!" Dad: "What am I going to say? You're my daughter." Ummmm, I'm still not sure how to take that one other than that I should probably call the chick from Napoleon Dynamite that does the glamour shots.
Rainy Day Incident: Mom and I grow weary of the inclement weather "I'm bored! I'm bored" (wait.......that might have been me......maybe it was mom that had grown weary) and dispatched ourselves to the local bowling alley with Jack. The "Northern Lights Recreation Center" is over in Harbor Springs. It's not really your conventional bowling alley but it works. The problem is that there aren't that many lanes and apparently the whining was rampant throughout Northwestern Michigan and everybody had the same idea. We were told that it would be about 45-minutes for a lane. Alrighty then. Fortunately there's an arcade. My mom gave Jack ten bucks, nine of which he immediately dumped into the bane of my arcade existence, the freakin' CLAW MACHINE. I hate those things. For $9 he came up with a lead-laden 3-inch penguin with scary eyes and a bow tie. Joy. So having exhausted that minor amusement inside of ten minutes, we ventured outside of the arcade. Fortunately in the interim, Grandma had produced two vodka and tonics from the adjoining "Sassy Loon Saloon". Yay, Grandma. Oh, and some popcorn. We set ourselves up at a little table and pondered our next move. Oh look! There's a punching bag game! Grandma produces another couple of bucks and Jack and I saunter over. Jack inserts the money. We cannot, rocket surgeons that we are, figure out to start the fucker. I'm looking at the directions and it says, "Press Start". Okay, fine dumbass but WHERE IS START?????? Wait.....wait......this might be it........and I press a button. The punching back, which was on an arm and remains in a raised position until engaged (by pushing start, natch) comes downs AND.......hits Jack squarely in the face. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't even determine if he was okay for the first few seconds. As it turned out, he too was laughing. My mom was practically on the ground as were many other passersby. God.
Michigan Militia: Those of you who are my facebook friends likely saw the pictures of my mother with the gun. We're sitting out on the patio having cocktails and playing Mexican Train when my mom, freshly home from golf at the club and attired as such says, "BILL!!!!! Where's your gun??????" Inexplicably he tells her (it's just a pellet gun......my family is smart enough to know that we shouldn't be trusted with the real deal.....the pellet gun probably poses danger enough) and she starts shooting into a tree. Seems some birds were causing her consternation and she wanted to scare them off. There's just something strangely disturbing about a sixty-something woman in golf clothes looking down the cross-hairs of a gun and letting her rip. Go, mommy......go.
Adventure at Sea: My very oldest friend came up with her kids for an evening over one weekend. The kids, being kids, wanted to go tubing. It was pretty cute......her 13-year old son and 11-year old daughter and Jack, all on one big tube. My dad was giving 'em a pretty good ride......Jack was bounced off a couple of times and I think Alex went flying once. Well, they didn't seem to be showing much fatigue and wanted to keep going. So la, la, la.......tube, tube, tube, CLUNK. My dad and I look at each other kinda wide-eyed. WTF? NO, we did not run out of gas. Something is seriously wrong with the boat. Shit. Get the kids in. Double shit. We're almost out of beer. Swimming for shore was ruled out as there was a great deal of boat traffic that day and the chance of being chopped into chum by a boat engine was looking good. Okay, so that's out. Dad suggested that eventually we would be blown home. Looked in the cooler. "Eventually" was not an option given our "supplies". Jack starts bellowing, "EVERYBODY PANIC!!!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE". Yeah......probably Jack. I can see both the house and the country club from where we floated. It's not like we were in the vast Bearing Sea. But then I started bellowing, "EVERBODY PANIC!!!!!!!! WE'RE OUT OF BOOZE!!!!". As things were starting to look pretty serious, we started waving down other boaters. "NO, dumbass.......we are NOT saying 'hi'. We need help!!!!!" At a certain point I offered to take off my shirt (as long as my dad turned around) but was informed that we didn't want to scare people away. Waaaaahhhhh. FINALLY, a little fishing boat with an outboard motor, a shirtless fisherman and his wife came to our rescue. I somehow made it from our boat onto theirs without losing my dignity and they delivered me over to our dock wherein I was yelled at by mom for not having brought my phone as that would have saved us alot of trouble. Well, duh. So, mom comes down and maneuvers the little Whaler skillfully to the big boat and we somehow get it tied up a tow it in. Grandma saves the day!!!!!! Having been sufficiently rattled by our brush with death, I believe we all retreated to the safety of the porch and enjoyed some bracing cocktails. That was a squeaker.
Well, readers, lots more happened that I'll share with ya but that's about enough for today. Shit, things have happened even since I've been back in the hood. I'll start putting 'em out there as they happen. At least the things I'm allowed to talk about. Stupid people and their bizarre need for discretion! Whassup with THAT?
Shall I post pics of you gingerly lowering yourself into said fishing boat? Very ladylike, it was! And what about your being berated by my 13 year old, saying "you know, Mol, your mom DID say to bring a phone!" Smartass boy.
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