Well folks, it's Saturday night. I'd hum "another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody," but the old guy is sitting right here next to me. But I did just get paid, so I guess that's my homage to Sam Cooke.
Hubby is reading tomorrow's paper, which is an oddity for two reasons: he actually reads the daily paper, AND it's tomorrow's paper. In Indianapolis, you actually get most of the Sunday paper on Saturday night. I guess that means tomorrow is back to the future. In either event, I don't read the paper every day, because by the time it goes to print, I've already read most of it online, so why bother? I do like to read Ann Landers, or whatever she's called, mostly because it amuses me, and also because I actually was printed there once, in a rant response to some guys' complaint about not being allowed in the delivery room for his granddaughter's birth. Yuck.
So here we are, on Saturday night. Hubby just got done installing window air conditioners in our room and the dd's, cause her room is hotter than Hades in summer, and our central A/C has an appointment with Dr. Kevorkian. DS13 is in his room, of course, playing zombie games with his best buddy -- our weekend foster child. DS18 is upstairs, having come downstairs to a) help his dad with the air conditioners and b) show me some disgusting glob of earwax he pulled out of his ear.
Exciting place, Utter Chaos.
DD is out with her BFF, who came over to make plans for their upcoming trip to Victoria next week. Alas, no planning is in progress, as they went to the barn to see her horse. Hubby, the fretter, laments the fact that it is 9:30, and she is not home. Oye. I don't know what he'd do if our kids actually decided to go out every weekend like we did, when we were kids. He'd probably have a stroke. He sits and frets till the minute they walk in the door. The worst was the night that ds18 went to McDonald's with his track buddies from school -- they walked in at 11, which was about the time his father was going to put out an APB.
You have nothing to fear, but that your children will do the things you did yourself, is probably the hubby's motto.
But they seem to have their heads on straight, so I don't worry. DS18 made Dean's List at school last semester, as did dd17, so hey, they must be doing something right. It's not like the dd goes out dressed in something like this gold 80s mermaid dress, from Monster Vintage, on the net. She's actually wearing a Purdue T shirt and shorts, and is probably covered in horse manure from the ankles down. Not exactly Amish, but not too trendsetting, either. Perhaps a better choice would be this uber cool Moorman's Dairy Shirt, from a store named after my own heart -- Kiss My Vintage.It's perfect for a day at the barn, or an evening chasing hotties. Why by the cow? Cause you can get the Moorman for free! Just beware -- the dd's father may be lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce at the first sign of a guy.
If you can get the newspaper out of his hands.