Thursday, September 25, 2008

Random Thought Thursday 9-25-08

I have nothing but randomness tonight. Nothing.

Is there some 5-second rule, like when dropping food on the floor and still eating it, for petting the dog, and then forgetting about it for an hour while you go about your evening routine, and then remembering while you are handling finger food that you did not wash your hands? A 60-minute rule, perhaps? Division of Family Services: move along. No children's food was involved. Grandma fed one, and the other had leftover chicken from The Devil's Playground. Not even an HH was harmed, he having caught the disease from The Pony, and now acting like the only man who ever caught a cold.

My bank needs a stern reprimand. I pulled into the middle drive-thru lane (we only have 3 lanes at Hillmomba National Bank, and one is the commercial lane) behind a van. The lady was taking her stuff out of that plastic dog-snack-puzzle thingy. I pulled forward and wrestled HH's reimbursement check into it. Then I put it back on the express elevator to Money Heaven, and pushed the 'send' button. Nothing happened. I turned it the other way and pushed. Nothing happened. I grabbed that sucker and yanked my moolah out of it, and drove around and made the #1 son take in the deposit. I'm sick, by cracky! Then the lady behind me in the line pulled into the parking lot from the exit, slammed on her brakes, flung down her cigarette, yanked open the back door, pulled the baby-in-a-basket out, slung him around, and headed inside. That's not right, people. The green light was ON. Nobody said, "Sorry, it doesn't work." I hate them. According to the #1 son, the lady who had to go inside when the cash machine would not give her $5000 hates them more.

Do any of you teachers get the urge to tell kids the truth sometimes? Even though truth hurts? Truth such as You are a lower-income hick in the middle of Missouri. Your tight jeans and lip spike and black fingernail polish do NOT make you cutting-edge. Really. You just look like a wannabee not-hick. Do you?

Am I the only one who finds it poignant when an 11th-grader asks, seriously, about finances: You mean you have to put in money to open a bank account? My parents don't trust banks. They've never had an account, and I don't know what to do. This in response to some program at the vocational school that contributes $5 when a kid opens a savings account.

I made some chili last night that is out of this world. If I DO say so myself! It never turns out the same way twice, because I use whatever ingredients I can find in my pantry. I will call this one Sweet and Spicy Chili. It started with a can of tomato sauce, a can of diced tomatoes, a packet of Save-A-Lot chili seasoning, a can of Rotel, 3 cans of Save-A-Lot baked beans, 2 pounds of ground beef, an eating spoon full of minced garlic, a couple glugs of steak sauce, 3 tablespoons of sugar, and about 1/4 of a cup of Frank's Red-Hot Buffalo Wing Sauce. The latter was because I had no chili beans, and needed a little more spice. Never mind that HH snuck in before I had added all the ingredients or even taken a test taste, and dipped up a big bowl using a slotted serving spoon. Which we all know means you don't get any juice, only solids, which gave HH about a pound of hamburger and a can of beans. Anyhoo, after he left the kitchen, I tasted and added and the result was magnificent. If I DO say so myself!

A mosquito bit me on the back of my right little finger, down in the part between the knuckle and the bendy joint. The whole area is puffy and itchy. The worse thing happened at school on my plan time. Why can't this school call in Terminix to spray while the kids are there, like my old school? This morning, I found a small roach on the wall near the light switch. Thank the Gummi Mary, I had already turned on the light. My window grooves are full of dead rolly-poly bugs. One of the students found a scorpion in another classroom yesterday. Let's not even talk about the dead spider as big as my hand outside the outer door down by the ParkingSpaceStealer's room. It's like Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom around here. Remember folks, Dana Brown says to drink Safari coffee. I guess you have to be OLD, and from the St. Louis area to know what that's all about.

I am not happy about Blogger tonight. I am not getting my money's worth for this service. Let me impersonate Andy Rooney for a moment. Don't you hate it when Blogger plans an outage of about 10 minutes...and it's down for several hours? Uh huh. You know what I'm talkin' about. I knew I should have quit after my first three thoughts.


DeadpanAnn said...

I got the urge to NOT tell a kid the truth today. Let me hijack your blog and tell you about it.

The kids were prewriting about their most embarrassing moment. One kid, who I happen to know was recently returned to his mother after spending 4 years in state custody for reasons unknown to me, handed me a story about how he woke up naked on Christmas morning. Well, it wasn't really coherent on the page, so I asked him to tell me the story so maybe I could help him write it. He went on to tell me about how he would wake up naked on every Christmas morning, and one year his family members came in and found him lying there naked and laughed at him or something. In an effort to clarify, I said, "So you woke up naked ONE Christmas morning, and your family saw you, and that was your embarrassing moment?" He said, "Well, a few times." I said, "Like, every Christmas morning??" He said, "Well, it stopped when I was about 9, but every Christmas until then."

Am I the only one thinking that there may have been a creepy Uncle Santa in the house for the holidays???

I told him I thought he should think of another story. And then I tried to think about something else. Anything, really.

Cazzie!!! said...

I hate it when blogger goes on strike and I cannot upload my images!!!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Miss Ann,
I'm hoping somebody was letting him represent Baby Jesus, with no ulterior motives.

Blogger is a rough mistress, she is. She gets us hooked, and then drops us like a hot potato.

Stewed Hamm said...

I hope Uncle Santa at least brought the kid a bowl of chitlins.
No wait, those are for Thanksgiving. Tough luck on that one, little raped kid.