Thursday's Thoughts

Well that sure was a nice summer!  Back to 'patchy frost' again tonight!  I hope my pretty flowers can handle it.

I just called a toll-free number all fired up ready to read them the riot act.  There was a charge on our credit card statement that the Chairman nor I saw as credible.  I was armed with an attitude when the lady answered.  I explained my unhappiness in terse terms.  After about 20 seconds of listening she asked a question of me.  "Have you recently signed up for any sports events from "XYZ"?  Um.  Just a second while I rush to the kitchen and whip up some humble pie.  Yes.  Yes I did.  I tried laughing it off on the phone, 'betcha you get lots of these kinds of calls don't you?'.  She said all the day long.  I cheerfully thanked her and hoped she had a nice day.

Speaking of activities.  I'm done.  I'm burned out.  I'm ready for no more stuff to run for.  A few years back I saw a vanity license plate that said, "mom's bus".  I thought she was being silly.  Now I'm wishing I could have it.  For example here is today:

3:35 bus comes home with child #2.
4:10 go to school to pick up child #3.
5:00 go to school to pick up child #1
5:15 take child #2 to baseball game
6:00 take child #3 to school for choir concert
6:30 choir concert starts
7:30 choir concert ends (treats afterwards though!)
8:00 pick up child #2 from baseball game
10:15 collapse into bed.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Or something like that.

Then there's this guy.  I'm not sure who he is.  But he likes junk stuff.  Other people's stuff that is sitting out waiting to go in the garbage truck.  I was half-waiting for him yesterday and here he came!  Took all the metal that I had at the end of the driveway.  For all I know, maybe he's a millionaire from his finds.  The ultimate in recycling!

Then there's this guy:

See his shirt?  "Everyone loves an Italian Boy".  He was a fellow-soccer parent sitting directly beside me.  He's a chatter-box to the nth degree.  So after pretending to go look for the other two MYP I conspicuously took his picture.  He was none the wiser.  Yes, in my case, I love the "Italian Boy".  But this guy didn't look Italian.  And he didn't seem Italian.  So I finally had to ask the obvious, 'are you Italian'?  Yes!  Yes I am!  My grandmother is half-Italian!  I found it interesting that he wanted to really claim that heritage over all other.  Seems the Italians love their heritage almost moreso than the other nationalities (except for Norwegians... don't mess with them).  Then he beamed up at me and said, 'are you Italian?'.  No, but I married a guy that is half.  He looked completely envious of the Chairman's gene-pool.  Well Mr. Chatterbox Soccer-dad, keep wearing the shirt.  That'll help.  Maybe.

Thought out... (not thawed out).  However, I sure hope it doesn't freeze tonight!