Archive for May, 2012


Baseball and Trucks

May 5th, 2012 at 3:54 pm » Comments (6)

An insurance adjuster left with my keys today. By accident. He brought them back, with an apology,  when I called and requested them.

Seth-6yr told him, “my mama does not have a man.” By accident. I think he just said what went through his head when the guy assumed my truck belonged to a husband-type. But STILL. Could we please delete that phrase from his vocabulary? Some truths rarely need to be spoken.

My poor truck. It’s dented to pieces from large hail, and it appears that air has been let out of tires, and then a couple weeks back it suffered the indignity of being covered in shoe polish cartoon drawings of male genitalia. Whoever did that didn’t really plan ahead and buy white shoe polish, as is customary. Or maybe they just made the artistic decision to use Cordovan. I don’t know. But cordovan penises and testicles everywhere seemed especially strange to me.

They disappeared instantly with Windex. (You don’t see THAT in Hints from Heloise.)

I don’t think anyone’s really out to get that truck. Maybe that’s naive. But I really don’t.  I think it sits on a corner in a neighborhood with bored teenager types and it’s just too irresistible to mess with.  (I feel almost the same way about it.)

We have baseball later. Seth-6yr’s team. There was an odd coup thing that occurred and the old coach was replaced with a really rude, new coach. Which is fine. I guess. But last week was his first game to coach and he didn’t let Seth-6yr bat. At all. So after the game I waited until he was finished talking to people, introduced myself, and said I’d noticed that Seth-6yr  hadn’t gotten to bat. He was immediately rude and defensive, and answered by saying, “WELL IT WASN’T INTENTIONAL. IF THAT’S WHAT YOU”RE SAYING.”

But… no? I didn’t say that or think that…. I was just bringing it to his attention since… he… was.. the coach…?

He got even angrier.

I got big-eyed and surprised.

I’d stayed out of the mama-drama gossiping and  meetings that led up to the coup and admittedly – GLADLY – have no idea the politics and backstory that went on. (as if I need that in my life right now? NO THANK YOU.) All I knew was that my kid should have gotten to bat, and he didn’t.

But I do know there had been a conflict between him and Mike. Perhaps it actually WAS intentional as payback for Mike. Absurd as that is, it makes more sense than anything else. (Mike was somewhere, observing the discussion  from a distance. Probably just as well.)  The coach jumped in his truck and left, even though half the team parents were all standing around still.

Mike wanted to discuss it all, especially the issues that bothered him,  with the league people. And I thought it might be in Seth-6yr’s best interest going forward, since nothing got resolved when I’d talked to the coach directly. So we did. The league guy we talked to was helpful. Made notes and seemed on top of it all. Then he laughed and said he was a little afraid of me too, and he checked out my butt when we left in such an obvious way that I wanted to put a hand back there to block his view.*

But my kid better bat tonight, or I’ll really give that coach a reason to jump in his truck and run off. YEAH.

(Okay, not really. But obviously it wouldn’t be too difficult.)

 

*Fine. Whatever i was wearing was probably slightly tighter than it should have been, but you know what? I AM HAPPILY “LETTING MYSELF GO.” That’s it. Right there. I said it. I’m eating more, working out less, and you caught me, Mr Baseball Guy, my jeans are a little too tight. But i haven’t decided if it’s worse to go and buy a whole new wardrobe one size bigger right now in the middle of a divorce, from ‘community property funds’ or worse to look slightly scandalous and assume – sometimes incorrectly – that no one will care or notice. I’m CHEAP. As in, ‘don’t want to spend the money.’  Not the other kind.

 


Come On, Eavesdrop, I Don’t Mind At All.

May 4th, 2012 at 1:51 pm » Comments (7)

Heard/Spoken Around These Parts Lately:

 

Sesth-6yr, upon hearing of a person’s pattern of bad choices in a passing conversation: “Fiery DARTS. That’s what that is. Fiery darts from hell. Learned about that at school, yes we did, FI- UHR-EEE DARTS. I’m gonna play basketball now.”  I looked up Ephesians 6:16. Seth-6yr was RIGHT on track with that unexpected word.

“Restraining Orders. Tell me everything you know, please.” (turned out to be unnecessary. no, not Mike)

“Does God ever speak to you through Johnny Cash? LISTEN TO THIS, it’s about when people lie about you, LOVE IT, best line is “long tongue liars” and what happens to them. God CUTS! THEM! DOWN!”

Seth-6yr, in a pathetic voice while getting tucked into bed and feeling like stirring up some drama: “Mom, sometimes the Enemy says to me, ‘your mom is the worst cooker ever’ and then it makes me sad.”

(the above was immediately followed by a gaspy laughing spitting yelling reaction that had him hiding his dimples in his pillow because he KNEW he couldn’t have gotten a better reaction than that.)

“You are a little mama, but that’s okay because you are tougher than big guys.”  (I don’t feel like that right now, but let em think it anyway.)

“God either put us together to be friends because He knew we needed each other — or we just drew together all on our own like two magnets because no one else in this town has lives as screwed up as ours.”

“Where do you go to school?” This one had to have been the strangest. It was a neighbor of my mother’s, my age, and she was talking to ME. Hello? Divorcing. Mother of four. WRINKLES. But hey, that’s fine.

My dad, via text: “It’s been a long time since you asked me how to fix something you broke.”

My dad, via text, regarding my adamant refusal to be set up with a ‘nice guy’ he knows, and my telling him I also was not interested in the average sized man named Tiny who tried to pick me up at Lowe’s: “OH. There’s never a good reason for an average sized man to be nicknamed TINY.”

(That is an excellent observation.)

“Even though it’s been months, I still have a DENT in my left ring finger. Like one of those African women who has the gold rings around her neck and then she gets deformed? That’s what this is like… OH. NO. NEVERMIND. THAT”S AWFUL. MAYBE I”M BEING CYNICAL ABOUT MARRIAGE. SORRY.”

“Is it terrible that I threw open the door with a smile when I saw it was the Constable because I was hoping he was serving me with divorce papers? YES. Yes, I guess it is. WOW I HAVE A BAD ATTITUDE.”