A Day Without Hankies

What a day.  One that called for hankies, and none were to be found.  First, Jill's grandparents got to see her in her wedding dress -- gorgeous, especially with the veil.  And we got to watch Seth graduate.

WHAT?  Who let that happen?

It was probably the loudest graduation I've ever been too.  His class was small -- about 65 or so -- so there was no "no cheering" rule, and it showed.  My word, people can yell loudly and long.  And there were a lot of really ugly shoes on those girls.  And many of them made their way across stage like they were pushing a plow.  The fun thing was that they went slowly enough that each kid kind of got to acknowledge their public, and each made his or her own way across the stage with their own particular swagger.  When it came to my child, he danced across, whilst looking out into the crowd.  Yep.  He took in the moment, that's for sure.

The nice thing was that each of the four people up there, Director of Operations, Behavioral Coaches, and the Big Kahuna of the school all gave the kids hugs.  Or Bro Hugs.  Or high fives.  Or secret handshakes.  It was so fun to watch such affection pass between the kids and the upper management of the school -- because they all know each other.  They're not just a number there, and it showed.

And so The Spare to the Throne's high school career closed, and now it's on to Butler.  But not before I share these:

 Gold and blue and white cords for National Honor Society and graduation With Honors.

                                                                           Swag.

                                            It always shows up, and usually in random places.

                                         Now she's got Seth carrying her.  But what a great picture.

I made cute babies.  

                                          And yeah, a more typical day in Utter Chaos.

Band Kids

And so it is that we come to the end of the school year.  For our household, it's the end of school, period.  Well, kind of.  Jill graduated from USI and is headed to grad school, and Seth is graduating from high school, heading for Butler.  I am heading to the poor farm, but will have a really nice nursing home in the end.  Or at least I'd better.

So lately, I've been doing some reminiscing about the past four years.  It was weird to have a graduation at last -- since the kids were homeschooled, we'd never had one till Jill walked across the stage.  That was a special moment.  And now we are coming up on Seth's graduation, which totally boggles my mind.  I was reading this the other day, and remembering Seth going off to "real school", with Thomas' admonitions to point out seniors who might cause him grief, and Jill threatening to put anyone in the dumpster  -- in tiny little pieces, no less -- who had the audacity to mess with her little brother.  We're all pretty sure that she meant it too.

And then I came across a video the other day, and it brought me back to Seth's band days.  The days where, if you read the above link, he spent most of the time sleeping, because they didn't DO anything.  Once they finally did, the majority of this ragtag first-time-the-school-had-a-band were percussionists, including Seth.  I can't even remember what they had him play, but I do know that it involved a drumstick (or most likely, just a stick, considering the primeval band they were) that had a soft ball (think clown nose) on the end.  Seth was excited that he had a brief solo, which was pretty cool.  So we went to the concert and then came his solo.  He pounded away beautifully, then finished with a flourish which included the ball flying off and up about fifteen feet in the air before gravity claimed it.  The look of shock on Seth's face was pretty priceless, till he grabbed that ball up and held it aloft, above his head, nodding like "oh YEAH.  I got this."  The crowd roared.

There's a video tape of it somewhere, and I wish I could see it, cause it was one of those "you couldn't repeat that if you tried" moments that I just love to see.  Likewise for this kid, who recovered quite nicely, and with the respect the national anthem deserves.

Basic Training.

I've never been a huge fan of grocery shopping. It probably dates back to having two babies a year apart, and having to put the kids in one cart and the food in another.  I would push two carts through the store, in an attempt to keep Thomas from launching cans of green beans at other customers.  Grocery shopping was hard work in those days.

But these days, Jim and I shop at the Commissary at the fort.  Great deals, great service, and it has lots of interesting things that you can't find anywhere else, like octopus and different kinds of kimchi.  Jim said that no one likes to grocery shop with him because he browses forever, but I actually think it's pretty fun.

That being said, I tend to throw things in the cart willy nilly.  If' I'm packing the groceries at the checkout, I am organized about it, but I don't care about the cart.  Jim, however, is a little different when it comes to the cart.

My way:

The Marine way:

CWO4, I salute you.

Juror Selection

Jill got called for jury duty this week.  Actually, she got called a couple of months ago, but got out of it because of school.  However, she didn't drive home the fact that she doesn't live in Indianapolis, so she got called again.  She was not amused.

Here is how she relayed her jury duty experience to the heir to the throne:

Jillie: "So, I went in there to tell her I was there.  They didn't ask for ID or anything.  I could have been anyone."

Me:  "So you could've sent Michael in your place?"

Jillie:  "Yes.  I should have.  So, then they made us watching this really boring  video about how awesome jury duty is.  Then they called me with a bunch of other people to go into a courtroom.  They told us to make a line, and I was at the front of the line.  So we got in the courtroom, and the judge asked who Jillian Utter is.  I raised my hand, and he asked if I was related to Larry Utter.  I told him yeah, that's my uncle.  So the judge asked if I knew Eddie.  I said yeah, that's my grandpa.  He asked me if he was still alive.  I said uh, YES.  He said 'oh, I just wondered, because he dated my sister in high school, and my sister's dead."

Thomas:  "Wow, it must suck  to get old, if the first question people ask about you is if you are dead."

The boy has a point.

The Yolks Are On Mabel

So Mabel lays big eggs.  As in, BIG eggs.  Some days, I'm shocked not to see her limping, these eggs are so big.  So when she laid this one the other day,

I about dropped dead myself.  Kind think she may've needed an episiotomy after this one.  We let it sit there for a few days before using it -- had to keep it in the fridge egg thingy, cause the carton wouldn't close over it.  Those white eggs there?  Grade A Large ones.  Looking at this egg, I am pretty sure that Mabel decided that she is, in fact, a duck.  The poor dear.

When we did finally decide to use it -- for a lovely Sunday brunch cooked up by my boo -- it had three yolks.  She's a omelet laying machine, that Mabel.

I'm off to get her an ice pack.

A Mother's Day Chortle

As you all know, Sunday was Mother's Day, the day we celebrate Dear Old Mom.  (Though if I called my mom "old"......................to the moon, Alice.

So we got up and went to church, where Jim bought me a lovely corsage, with the proceeds going toward an anti-malaria program in Africa.  Sweet, that man is.  And then when we got back to the house, he made me a lovely brunch.  No word from those boys, who I was sure were still sleeping, heathens that they are.  I did get a text from Jillie, with something of a recap from a wedding of the day before -- one that neither of us attended, but that she felt the need to judge as to why it was "trendy."  "Trendy" in Jill's terms, equates with tacky in Jill's world, especially where it pertains to weddings.  But I digress.

So we chatted a bit about said wedding.  Not about Mother's Day.  This was about the time I started to get a giggle out of the whole thing, because it was completely apparent that they had all forgotten.  Now listen, this did not bother me one iota.  I found it hilarious.  Like when they forgot my birthday last year -- my 50th, no less.  Every single one of them forgot.  Cracks me up.  And when it comes to Mother's Day, here's my feeling:  if you love me 364 days a year, then I'm fine with the one other day.  And if you don't love me 364 days a year, one day won't make up for it.  And that's the God's honest truth.

So Jim and I spent the afternoon cleaning out closets and reconfiguring his office.  I texted Seth at one point, and he didn't respond.  So I emailed Thomas and asked him to check on his brother, to make sure that he wasn't dead, because he was getting over a pretty bad asthma thingy.  (As I told him:  he does not have a future in landscaping.  He said that sucks, because apparently, landscaping is his newest favorite pasttime.)  Seth texted me back straightaway:  "fever is gone, throat still sucks, cough is meh.  Feels like bad allergies now"  Again, no words about Mother's Day.

We knocked ourselves out getting stuff set up at the house, and Jim made me a fine dinner of chicken drummettes, cole slaw, and fries.  He still didn't believe that they'd forgotten my special day, and I was sure that they did.  I was still laughing about it.  So we made an agreement that I would call him as soon as I got home, and let him know if the boys actually acknowledged the day.  I told him they wouldn't, but I agreed to call.

I no sooner got out of the driveway than Seth texted me and said "Happy Mother's Day, btw."  Sucked the wind right outta my sails cause doggone it, he remembered after all. Phooey.  So I got home, and up wandered Seth from the depths.  Instead of  "Happy Mother's Day," he asked if I'd gotten dog food.  Phooey again.  He had told me earlier that we needed dog food, but I forgot, and apparently we were totally out.  Right about that time, Thomas wandered in and announced that he was going to the grocery store.  BINGO.  "Hey, can you pick up some dog food for me?" I said.  "If you give me some money, sure," replied  Thomas.  So I went for it:  full on guilt.  "You mean to tell me that you can't even front your mom some money on Mother's Day?"

The look on his face was absolutely priceless, I tell you.  He took it all in for a minute, then turned to his brother and said "is it Mother's Day?"  Seth immediately responded:

"Uh, YEAH.  Why do you think I did the dishes?"

Yep, that's my boy.

Thomas was pretty sheepish, and then said he really wasn't being a jerk, but that he is keeping himself on a very tight budget, and that he really didn't have money to spend.  I tossed him a twenty and told him he was officially not allowed to get me anything while he was at the store, because 1) it would wreak of desperation, 2) second though gifts are lame (like the year the ex bought me a single votive candle and a coloring book at CVS on his way home on my birthday), 3) it would take all the fun out of him forgetting Mother's Day and 4) he is on a very strict budget.  Bada-bing!  Got him with the last one.

So I got the most important gift of all on Mother's Day:  a good laugh.

And next day, I found this in the fridge:

"Thomas' food for the work week.  Pls don't eat unless dying."

Man, that is one SERIOUS budget.

Prostrate with Giggles

So I went to see my patient today.  He mentioned that he'd had problems urinating this weekend.  And I quote:  "Well, you know, I have that enlarged prostrate.  Sometimes it makes it hard to pee.  You know, when I was in the hospital, they had to castrate me cause I couldn't pee."

Gotta say, that seems unnecessarily harsh.

So I replied, "Do you mean catheterized  you?"  "Oh yeah," he said, with a laugh.  "Catheterized.  But then again, they may've castrated me too, I don't know."  We laughed for a couple of minutes over that.

I just love my job.