Monday, May 30, 2011

The Best Laid Plans

In Memory of Jamie
The weekend didn't turn out exactly as expected, but a weekend's still better than, well, weekdays, so I'll take it.  I had planned to take the kid to an art festival on Saturday, but the weather was too iffy.  It was a lakefront affair and I knew the wind would make the festival seem significantly less festive.  So, I went with Plan B.  I had some free passes to a jumpity-jump place, so I called A's friend and as luck would have it, she was free.  So, I took both girls out to lunch and then to the inflatables place. I'm not used to having two six-year-olds in my back seat, that's for sure.  Also, who was it that coined that saying about "sugar and spice?"  Those two burped and farted their way all through lunch.

On Saturday evening, I drove to my friend Kathy's house.  Her Boxer died a few days ago.  I pulled Jamie out of a shelter in 2000. She was around two years of age then. Jamie was the unofficial canine matriarch of our rescue organization.  A few of us decided to have a little "night of remembrance." Kathy lives about 100 miles from me so I usually spend the night at her house when we have one of our get-togethers.  So, I packed my bag and headed down.  Kathy's friend Rita also joined us.  We went out to dinner and then headed to a bar.  I thought we were headed back to Kathy's house, but I thought wrong. I should point out that Kathy and Rita are a couple decades older than I am, but I can barely keep up with them.  The bar was having a karaoke contest.  Some of the singers were actually pretty good, although I have to say that there's really no excuse for country music, no matter how great the singer is. I had "Friends in Low Places" stuck in my head for two days after that. About halfway through, Rita went to the bathroom and came back with a new round of drinks and a round of shots. We'd also indulged at the restaurant before we got there. I wouldn't say I was plowed, but I was "happy." We spotted a chick who was wearing an ill-fitting strapless red top and I leaned over to Kathy and said, "I'd never wear that and really, I have spectacular cleavage."  Obviously this is not the sort of remark I'd normally slip into a conversation unless there was vodka involved, which there was.

I drove back home on Sunday afternoon.  Again, I had plans to take A to a festival (a different one) but the weather forecast leaned heavily towards rain (and the dark clouds seemed to back that up).  I asked the kid what she wanted to do and she, of course, started blathering on about Chuck E. Cheese.  I did have a bunch of coupons for free tokens, so I agreed. We ended up running into my brother-in-law and his family there, so the kid was able to play with her cousin. By the time we were ready to leave, A and I had over 700 tickets which, predictably, was still only enough to qualify us for a very narrow selection of absolute crap.  After that, we went to a garden store to buy annuals and then stopped at a park on the way home. The storm broke while we were at the park, so I was glad I hadn't attempted the festival. After the storm passed, I asked the kid if she wanted to help me plant some petunias by the mailbox.  "I guess I have time for that," she responded. Seriously?

On Monday morning, I headed to yoga.  It was nice to have the luxury of getting in a work-out in the morning. Generally, on weekday mornings, my boss kind of prefers that I come to work. After that, the kid and I met my sister-in-law and my niece for lunch at Panera Bread. We then took the girls to a jumpity-jump place (not the same one as on Saturday, though). A and her cousin only burst into tears half a dozen times, so we considered the outing a success.

As the holiday weekend winds down, I'm busy re-typing stuff that I would have if only I had backed it up. The kid is in the other room and has set up a "Hello Kitty" store.  She is charging me to buy my own stuff from her.  She also instructed me that I'm supposed to walk up and wait for her to ask, "How may I help you?" and I am required to say, "Yes, please, I'd like some juice." And then she will hand me my Sobe Lifewater drink that I just bought at the grocery store on Friday. Isn't there something in the Declaration of Independence or maybe the Constitution about "you don't have to pay for your shit twice?"  Maybe I'm confusing it with the whole "no taxation without representation" deal. Anyway, bottoms up, I guess!  I raise a toast to Miss Jamie, one of the best dogs ever.

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