How Do YOU Spend a Saturday?
Last Friday, SuperHubby's older brother and his wife were visiting. They live in the Poconos, and we haven't seen them in 3 years, since we went there for vacation. They have been building a second home in Myrtle Beach and came for a quickie visit.
We didn't know they were coming, but that was okay. Shift a few things around, and we had a great time Friday evening. To cap it off, we decided to have breakfast before they headed back Saturday. Nothing like the Shoney's breakfast bar to say "I love you."
So we're sitting there eating, and my sister-in-law says, "So, how do you normally spend your Saturdays?" Innocent enough question. SH replied that he normally hangs out at home while I spend the better part of the day running errands...which was exactly the plan for the day after they left. And we didn't think another thing about it.
Fast forward 45 minutes and that conversation made me giggle. Coming back to Mt P from breakfast, a crazy lady in a land yacht hit my car. YES, the convertible. YES, we're fine. But SHE HIT THE CONVERTIBLE.
Okay, maybe she wasn't crazy. She WAS 74 though, and was certainly at fault (she felt like our lane must be the cool place to be, and so invited herself over). I knew we were in trouble when SH got out of the car yelling at her. He normally keeps his cool, so this surprised me just a tad.
As far as accidents go, this was a pretty minor one. The car held up really well, which I was happy about, but we had the top down, and it turns out when another car hits you and the top's down, it is LOUD. She hit right where Spanky was sitting, which I believe made him soil himself. We had just been joking around about whether he'd live to see his 14th birthday (which happened to be the next day) and CRASH! The hubcap also flew off over his head, which freaked him out in a major way. FrogBoy simply said, in a very quiet, even tone, "What just happened?"
Mom mode kicks in when you have an accident. Of course, my first concern was my children. Once I knew they were fine, I was concerned (for a brief moment) that SH might kung fu someone. Then I remembered his brother was there and figured he could get between SH and the old lady. And then it hit me.
SHE HIT MY CAR.
I almost started crying. I've only had this car for 6 months. And she hit it. She tried to hit us a second time pulling out of the line of traffic. NICE.
So the first half of this week was spent with me trying to reach the insurance company, which frankly didn't seem very concerned about our claim. The second half of the week was spent hammering out details with them. It promises to be more of the same next week.
Afterwards, I told my sister-in-law, "THIS is what we do on a Saturday. Who knew you'd get breakfast AND a show?"
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Call Me Quirky
As previously reported, I spent the other day shopping with my 11-year-old nephew. Call it what you want, but like all shopping excursions for me, it was really just the hunt for the perfect purse. Which I found, by the way, at least for now.
While we were shopping, Jacob told me in no uncertain terms that I have "too many purse rules." And he is totally and completely right. The perfect purse must be a color...not black, brown, white or gray. And it needs to be a solid. (At least now; that will change when Vera Bradley comes out with good patterns again, I'm sure). Unless of course it has a funky pattern, in which case it can break the solid color rule AND the neutral color rule...but only under these conditions. No wonder he was frustrated.
Then there's the issue of size. And length of strap. And whether it can have pockets on the front. And - most importantly - whether it has a cell phone pocket inside. All very important matters when finding the perfect purse.
I do have too many purse rules.
At lunch my nephew got Chick-Fil-A. So did everyone else at our table. Except me. I had a cheese steak sandwich. Of course, I was asked WHY I didn't get Chick-Fil-A. After all, everyone loves Chick-Fil-A. Except I don't eat chicken in public. How weird is that.
Turns out most people don't think of things like this, but I can't eat chicken in public because sometimes when you bite into chicken, you get that little chicken vein, and then you're stuck. You can't swallow it because it's gross, and you can't spit it out, because that's grosser, so you're stuck. Solution? Don't eat chicken.
Now I'm starting to think I have some issues.
Then today I was watching a movie on TV. And I realized that I don't really like to watch movies on DVD. Oh, I will if that's the only way I'm going to get to see it, but I really need to have a movie with the junk cut out and commercial breaks so I can move around. Yes, I am aware that you can pause and fast forward and all sorts of neat things with DVDs, but that's a lot of work, frankly, and you might just miss something good. But when it's on TV, they cut out the filthy language and the sex and keep the essence of the movie. And you get mandatory breaks. If I have to pause the DVD, I'll never take a break...because I'm into the movie and don't want to stop it.
Okay, so I have my quirks. So what? If you knew my lineage, you'd think I was normal.
As previously reported, I spent the other day shopping with my 11-year-old nephew. Call it what you want, but like all shopping excursions for me, it was really just the hunt for the perfect purse. Which I found, by the way, at least for now.
While we were shopping, Jacob told me in no uncertain terms that I have "too many purse rules." And he is totally and completely right. The perfect purse must be a color...not black, brown, white or gray. And it needs to be a solid. (At least now; that will change when Vera Bradley comes out with good patterns again, I'm sure). Unless of course it has a funky pattern, in which case it can break the solid color rule AND the neutral color rule...but only under these conditions. No wonder he was frustrated.
Then there's the issue of size. And length of strap. And whether it can have pockets on the front. And - most importantly - whether it has a cell phone pocket inside. All very important matters when finding the perfect purse.
I do have too many purse rules.
At lunch my nephew got Chick-Fil-A. So did everyone else at our table. Except me. I had a cheese steak sandwich. Of course, I was asked WHY I didn't get Chick-Fil-A. After all, everyone loves Chick-Fil-A. Except I don't eat chicken in public. How weird is that.
Turns out most people don't think of things like this, but I can't eat chicken in public because sometimes when you bite into chicken, you get that little chicken vein, and then you're stuck. You can't swallow it because it's gross, and you can't spit it out, because that's grosser, so you're stuck. Solution? Don't eat chicken.
Now I'm starting to think I have some issues.
Then today I was watching a movie on TV. And I realized that I don't really like to watch movies on DVD. Oh, I will if that's the only way I'm going to get to see it, but I really need to have a movie with the junk cut out and commercial breaks so I can move around. Yes, I am aware that you can pause and fast forward and all sorts of neat things with DVDs, but that's a lot of work, frankly, and you might just miss something good. But when it's on TV, they cut out the filthy language and the sex and keep the essence of the movie. And you get mandatory breaks. If I have to pause the DVD, I'll never take a break...because I'm into the movie and don't want to stop it.
Okay, so I have my quirks. So what? If you knew my lineage, you'd think I was normal.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
A Good Start to the New Year
Today was the Big Day: USC played against Iowa in the Outback Bowl. I use the term "played" loosely, because I'm not even sure the Gamecocks even showed up. However, during the game, I got to have some great fun with my sis-in-law, my niece and my nephew.
We went to the mall. I never go to the mall. If they don't sell it at Target, I figure I don't need it. Plus, we don't have a mall in Mount Pleasant, which makes it much easier to not shop at the mall. But I digress.
So we went shopping. And I made quite a few nice purchases, if I do say so myself.
First, I got a couple of Hallmark ornaments for next year. I used to buy ornaments every year the day after Christmas for the boys, but then I got out of the habit because the discounts weren't good enough to warrant fighting the crazies in the store. The ones I got today were on sale, and I had a coupon, so I ended up spending only $10 total.
I love Snoopy, and FrogBoy loves the Statue of Liberty, so I thought this would be a nice addition to our collection.
My favorite Disney movie of all time is Lady and the Tramp, so I had to have this one.
The big search for the day was, of course, for my new Christmas purse. This was purchased with money from my grandmother, which meant it didn't cost me a penny. This is always nice. My 11-year-old nephew assisted with the search, at one point telling me "You have too many purse rules." He's right...but I finally found one I loved. Jake said it looked like a bomber jacket. I think it's great!
At that point we dropped the kids at the house and sis-in-law and I hit Books-a-Million. I spent the rest of my Christmas money from Granny (the purse was 50% off, so I still had $20) on a new Bible. I like to get a new Bible every so often, so here's what I chose:
You can't tell, but it's purple and very cute. I don't know how to rotate the picture but trust me, it's adorable.
Finally, I found a game called Farkle. I don't know if anyone else has heard of this game, but it's really simple and 2 people can play, which is great because generally it's just me and Spanky playing games. We played tonight and had a blast.
So it was a very successful day shopping, plus my dad gave me his Bi-Lo Fuel Perks card, and he has accumulated 85 cents...which means the next time I have to buy gas, I'll pay around 60 cents a gallon!
But the best part of my day was getting to spend it with my nephew. I haven't ever spent that much one-on-one time with him, and I'm sorry I haven't, because we had a ball. He's a great kid, and I hope I get to hang out with him more...he's a lot of fun. 2009 has started out great!
2009 Ideas
I don't make resolutions. There's no point; I know I wouldn't stick with them, everyone who knows me knows I wouldn't stick with them. Instead, I like to make ideas. This is basically a to-do list on which I can randomly cross items off when they start to get on my nerves and I start wondering what I was thinking when I wrote them down. On January 1 it might seem like a good idea to write "start exercising," but let's be honest, by January 3 we all know it ain't happening, so it's time to mark it off and make myself feel better. No need to have failure staring me in the face for the next year.
This year my New Year's Ideas list looks something like this:
I don't make resolutions. There's no point; I know I wouldn't stick with them, everyone who knows me knows I wouldn't stick with them. Instead, I like to make ideas. This is basically a to-do list on which I can randomly cross items off when they start to get on my nerves and I start wondering what I was thinking when I wrote them down. On January 1 it might seem like a good idea to write "start exercising," but let's be honest, by January 3 we all know it ain't happening, so it's time to mark it off and make myself feel better. No need to have failure staring me in the face for the next year.
This year my New Year's Ideas list looks something like this:
- I will blog more. With the onslaught of Twitter, I have been very slack about blogging. But blogging is my first love, and I will return to it in 2009. I hope some of my favorite reads will do the same.
- I will start exercising. Okay, I'm getting that one out of the way early, because as of RIGHT NOW, I fully intend on it. Check back later today; I'm sure the feeling will have passed.
- I will try not to get irritated when people do things that annoy me that they can't help. I'm really good at this with FrogBoy and all the autistic nuances; everyone else is on their own. This year, I hope to become more tolerant of other people's quirks.
- I will be more organized. If you know me, this sounds stupid. It's not. I seldom think I am organized enough. I'm rarely happy with my level of organization on any particular project. This year I will work to change that if I can, and be happy with where I am if I can't.
- I will hug people more. I already started this at the end of 2008, so I'm on a pretty good roll with this one.
- I will conquer my fear of flying...at least long enough to use the free ticket our cell phone company gave us. I'd like for SH and I to go away together, but since it's a free plane ticket and not a free rental car, this will require some work on my part.
- I will get red glasses. I found some sassy red glasses that I want, and darn it, I think I'd look pretty cute in them. They are on my list for the cute factor alone.
- I will stop worrying about how much we owe MUSC. If I can't change it, why stress over it?
- I will upgrade my prayer life and my Bible reading. These stay on the list. I always want them to be better.
That about does it for now. Like my to-do list, this is a living document, a list that constantly has additions and subtractions, a list that has to be rewritten when there are too many subtractions so it looks pretty enough to be in my notebook. I probably won't accomplish everything I want to, but I'm sure gonna try.
Chloe, Oscar and Buck - The Three Amigos
2008 brought some interesting new things into our lives...namely, wild animals. Spanky killed his first deer (Buck) at the end of August, and then got his second one (Oscar) a couple of months later. We have 2 sets of antlers on our living room wall (whatever) and he is now fully outfitted in the hunter's choice of clothing: tacky camo. It's all good.
Then for Christmas my aunt and uncle gave us something that was definitely NOT on our list...a cow. Yep, a real live cow. I have named her Chloe. Apparently that wasn't the smartest idea, since she is apparently alive now but is set to be slaughtered in February. But I figure if someone's going to give you a cow, you should at least get to name it. I thought about visiting it and braiding it's tail and taking pictures with the boys on her back, but SuperHubby thought that might be a bit much.
The cow actually seemed like a really strange gift at first, but after much consideration, I have decided that it's a really cool idea. Everyone in our family always asks what we want, or asks for a list, or else we'd end up getting stuff we don't want. This was creative and economically sound, which is a great idea with uncertain financial times ahead. You'd have to know my aunt and uncle, but it makes perfect sense from them. Of course, I had to point out to SH that every gift we got this year was food...either a cow or a gift card...so I'm not sure what that tells us...but hey, I'm not complaining!
So 2009 brings new and exciting things as well. We probably won't have to buy much meat in the Fitzgerald household, which is nice. And it will certainly be the first time in history that we're eating what we killed (and by we I mean Spanky).
2008 brought some interesting new things into our lives...namely, wild animals. Spanky killed his first deer (Buck) at the end of August, and then got his second one (Oscar) a couple of months later. We have 2 sets of antlers on our living room wall (whatever) and he is now fully outfitted in the hunter's choice of clothing: tacky camo. It's all good.
Then for Christmas my aunt and uncle gave us something that was definitely NOT on our list...a cow. Yep, a real live cow. I have named her Chloe. Apparently that wasn't the smartest idea, since she is apparently alive now but is set to be slaughtered in February. But I figure if someone's going to give you a cow, you should at least get to name it. I thought about visiting it and braiding it's tail and taking pictures with the boys on her back, but SuperHubby thought that might be a bit much.
The cow actually seemed like a really strange gift at first, but after much consideration, I have decided that it's a really cool idea. Everyone in our family always asks what we want, or asks for a list, or else we'd end up getting stuff we don't want. This was creative and economically sound, which is a great idea with uncertain financial times ahead. You'd have to know my aunt and uncle, but it makes perfect sense from them. Of course, I had to point out to SH that every gift we got this year was food...either a cow or a gift card...so I'm not sure what that tells us...but hey, I'm not complaining!
So 2009 brings new and exciting things as well. We probably won't have to buy much meat in the Fitzgerald household, which is nice. And it will certainly be the first time in history that we're eating what we killed (and by we I mean Spanky).
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Gift of Austim
It's hard for a lot of moms to sit by and watch their babies grow up. I know I fall into that category. It's really hard for me to believe that in 4 short years Spanky will be in college. (Yes, he will! We're going on faith with that one!!)
I've been blessed with extra "time" with my youngest though. Because of his autism, he doesn't act like your typical 10-year-old. He's got the smarts and the appetite, but the personality is just starting to catch up, frankly, and the maturity level is a couple of years behind schedule. And that's just fine with me.
Most kids with autism aren't very cuddly and sweet and loving. Depending on which end of the spectrum they're on, they might not even be verbal, much less able to interact with other people. But I am blessed. FrogBoy is one of the kindest, sweetest little boys you'll ever meet.
Here's the card he made his teacher last night for Christmas. I think this shows his personality perfectly.
It says:
For Miss Thompson:
I enjoy your class. I (heart) learning. You have beautiful blonde hair, beautiful eyes, a perfect smile, pretty nail polish, and amazing glasses.
I (heart) being in your class.
Signed, Michael Fitz.
P.S. I (heart) you and Miss Disher [his other teacher] too.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Denis Leary is Stupid
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine brought to my attention that Denis Leary, a very unattractive actor, has an opinion on autism. Well of course he does...who doesn't these days?
According to Denis, "There is a huge boom in autism right now because inattentive mothers and competitive dads want an explanation for why their dumb-ass kids can't compete academically, so they throw money into the happy laps of shrinks ... to get back diagnoses that help explain away the deficiencies of their junior morons," calling such children "stupid" or "lazy" rather than autistic.
Okey dokey. I can certainly see how Denis could be confused. Clearly he has a medical degree. How did I miss that announcement?
I could really go off on Denis Leary right now. Trust me. If you know me, you realize the title of this post is FAR from my original thought...but I decided I wanted people to keep reading if they clicked on the blog to begin with.
So let me just point out what is obvious to me. Denis Leary certainly does not know the heartbreak that comes from being told there is something wrong with your child. Even when you already knew. Especially when you already knew. He also probably can't fathom how you could not only continue to love that child, but to actually love that child more because of their disability, and celebrate every single milestone - large and small - with them, for them, because of them.
My child has autism. He's not stupid or lazy. He actually made all Bs (with one C in science) on his last report card. And he's consistently done that since being diagnosed with autism. I guess we forgot to tell him he had a free pass to underperform.
Is he quirky? You bet. Does he exhaust us mentally, physically, emotionally? Sometimes. But more often than not, he makes my heart soar, he makes me laugh, he makes me proud of all of his accomplishments, and he makes me grateful to a God that would entrust his well-being to me.
Before he was diagnosed, I wasn't as ignorant as Denis Leary, but I was pretty close. My beliefs on autism cented around Rain Man. Holy crap, I couldn't handle that. Thank God my children were perfect. Well guess what? They aren't...and I can.
I've always had a firm belief that Michael doesn't get to use autism as an excuse for anything. He actually doesn't even know he has the diagnosis...and I'm fine with keeping it that way. He realizes he gets some special treatment at school, like getting taken out of class for certain tests and getting copies of someone's notes so he doesn't hold the whole class up while he writes every letter perfectly, but if he forgets to do his homework (or simply chooses not to), I send his teacher an email and remind her that he deserves detention...just like anyone else.
He's not stupid. And he doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Can Denis Leary say the same?
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine brought to my attention that Denis Leary, a very unattractive actor, has an opinion on autism. Well of course he does...who doesn't these days?
According to Denis, "There is a huge boom in autism right now because inattentive mothers and competitive dads want an explanation for why their dumb-ass kids can't compete academically, so they throw money into the happy laps of shrinks ... to get back diagnoses that help explain away the deficiencies of their junior morons," calling such children "stupid" or "lazy" rather than autistic.
Okey dokey. I can certainly see how Denis could be confused. Clearly he has a medical degree. How did I miss that announcement?
I could really go off on Denis Leary right now. Trust me. If you know me, you realize the title of this post is FAR from my original thought...but I decided I wanted people to keep reading if they clicked on the blog to begin with.
So let me just point out what is obvious to me. Denis Leary certainly does not know the heartbreak that comes from being told there is something wrong with your child. Even when you already knew. Especially when you already knew. He also probably can't fathom how you could not only continue to love that child, but to actually love that child more because of their disability, and celebrate every single milestone - large and small - with them, for them, because of them.
My child has autism. He's not stupid or lazy. He actually made all Bs (with one C in science) on his last report card. And he's consistently done that since being diagnosed with autism. I guess we forgot to tell him he had a free pass to underperform.
Is he quirky? You bet. Does he exhaust us mentally, physically, emotionally? Sometimes. But more often than not, he makes my heart soar, he makes me laugh, he makes me proud of all of his accomplishments, and he makes me grateful to a God that would entrust his well-being to me.
Before he was diagnosed, I wasn't as ignorant as Denis Leary, but I was pretty close. My beliefs on autism cented around Rain Man. Holy crap, I couldn't handle that. Thank God my children were perfect. Well guess what? They aren't...and I can.
I've always had a firm belief that Michael doesn't get to use autism as an excuse for anything. He actually doesn't even know he has the diagnosis...and I'm fine with keeping it that way. He realizes he gets some special treatment at school, like getting taken out of class for certain tests and getting copies of someone's notes so he doesn't hold the whole class up while he writes every letter perfectly, but if he forgets to do his homework (or simply chooses not to), I send his teacher an email and remind her that he deserves detention...just like anyone else.
He's not stupid. And he doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Can Denis Leary say the same?
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Economic Stupidity
The title of this post sounds like I'm going to make some profound comments...do not fear...I will be as far from profound as possible (as usual). This is just something I cannot pass up commenting on.
Last night, the Smurf and I decided to do a little shopping. She needed to go to Sam's, and I thought I'd go along for fun (and drive - convertibles make you think road trips are ALWAYS a good idea!). We added in a couple of fun stops...the thrift store (fun for her, not me, although I actually found a couple of good things for FrogBoy) and the bookstore (fun for me and not her).
In between a couple of our stops, we decided to eat. I had a coupon. (Pay attention...we're not spending money here). So we go to this restaurant at 4:30 and the place is packed. Nowhere to park. At all. When we finally got inside, it was completely empty. Except the bar. Happy Hour. Who knew there were so many drinkers in Charleston? But I digress.
We sit down and order. Now we had a plan before we even decided to go to this particular restaurant, and we stuck with it. We each got a sandwich, and I had a buy-one-get-one-free (BOGO) coupon, good up to $16 off the entire order. Sandwiches are $8, so we each were squeaking by for $4. Good plan.
Like I said, we order. And our waiter, who I will admit was a decent looking man, starts flirting. Seriously. With a 65-old-Smurf and ME. He's calling us "m'lady" and flashing these grins that would stop a train and stopping by just to say "hi" and telling us stories about his mama - I was surprised he didn't squeeze into the booth with us.
Our dinner ended up costing $8.54.
Fast forward and we're running errands. It's the bookstore and I'm feeling particularly impatient so I ask for help. If you know me, you realize how rare this is. The guy in the store practically becomes my personal shopper. Then he follows me around until I'm ready to pay so he can help me check out. It's starting to get weird.
Final straw: Wal-Mart. I get my stuff and head for check-out. This is the North Chuck Wal-Mart by Sam's, where they have 237 lines but only 4 are open at any given time. So I waited. And waited. And when I finally reached the front, the rather nerdy check-out guy says, "Hey, you're looking awfully good tonight. How are you? You come here often?" (Okay, #1, I know I look good to YOU, and #2, yes, he seriously asked if I come here often...to Wal-Mart).
So I was polite and made a hasty retreat. And on the way to the car, all I could think was this: These guys must be trying to push their products because of the economy. Because I looked in the mirror before I left, and I have no idea what they could have been thinking.
The title of this post sounds like I'm going to make some profound comments...do not fear...I will be as far from profound as possible (as usual). This is just something I cannot pass up commenting on.
Last night, the Smurf and I decided to do a little shopping. She needed to go to Sam's, and I thought I'd go along for fun (and drive - convertibles make you think road trips are ALWAYS a good idea!). We added in a couple of fun stops...the thrift store (fun for her, not me, although I actually found a couple of good things for FrogBoy) and the bookstore (fun for me and not her).
In between a couple of our stops, we decided to eat. I had a coupon. (Pay attention...we're not spending money here). So we go to this restaurant at 4:30 and the place is packed. Nowhere to park. At all. When we finally got inside, it was completely empty. Except the bar. Happy Hour. Who knew there were so many drinkers in Charleston? But I digress.
We sit down and order. Now we had a plan before we even decided to go to this particular restaurant, and we stuck with it. We each got a sandwich, and I had a buy-one-get-one-free (BOGO) coupon, good up to $16 off the entire order. Sandwiches are $8, so we each were squeaking by for $4. Good plan.
Like I said, we order. And our waiter, who I will admit was a decent looking man, starts flirting. Seriously. With a 65-old-Smurf and ME. He's calling us "m'lady" and flashing these grins that would stop a train and stopping by just to say "hi" and telling us stories about his mama - I was surprised he didn't squeeze into the booth with us.
Our dinner ended up costing $8.54.
Fast forward and we're running errands. It's the bookstore and I'm feeling particularly impatient so I ask for help. If you know me, you realize how rare this is. The guy in the store practically becomes my personal shopper. Then he follows me around until I'm ready to pay so he can help me check out. It's starting to get weird.
Final straw: Wal-Mart. I get my stuff and head for check-out. This is the North Chuck Wal-Mart by Sam's, where they have 237 lines but only 4 are open at any given time. So I waited. And waited. And when I finally reached the front, the rather nerdy check-out guy says, "Hey, you're looking awfully good tonight. How are you? You come here often?" (Okay, #1, I know I look good to YOU, and #2, yes, he seriously asked if I come here often...to Wal-Mart).
So I was polite and made a hasty retreat. And on the way to the car, all I could think was this: These guys must be trying to push their products because of the economy. Because I looked in the mirror before I left, and I have no idea what they could have been thinking.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Merry Christmiss
I love Christmas. I have stated this many, many times, all rather convincingly I'd like to think. I just liked it better back in the day, when we celebrated it in DECEMBER.
Everywhere I look, I see Christmas decorations. This year, in an amazing twist of fate, Halloween got skipped over completely (I'm okay with that) and we went straight to Christmas. At the beginning of October.
I would have written about this crazy little phenomena earlier but I was tied up with SuperHubby. Since he's moving around without his geriatric walker these days, I feel I can blog at will. And so I will.
Like I said, LOVE LOVE LOVE Christmas. I love everything it stands for. I love the decorations. I love the food. I love the family. I love the hunt for gifts, the wrapping of gifts, the giving of gifts, the opening of gifts. I love the looks on my boys faces when they open THAT ONE gift that they REALLY wanted and didn't think they'd get...every year. Awesomeness.
I've already finished my Christmas cards for this year. Now that SH is on the road to recovery, I can plan my photo shoot for the boys and mark that puppy of my list.
But I really can't take putting up the decorations this early. I realize it's the whole "the sky is falling" economy that has pushed us to this. Christmas has to be marketed as early as possible, or people might somehow forget it's coming, and not buy as much (or anything). God forbid.
Well, I think this is the year for a more scaled-back season. Back to basics, I like to think of it. Oh, my kids will get gifts...I'm not an ogre...but maybe not as many, and certainly not as costly. I'm coming up with clever, creative ways to spend the holidays without spending our rent money. And it's FUN!
Maybe it's because the weather was over 90 up until last week. I don't know. Now that it's a little chilly outside, I'm feeling a wee bit more festive. At least they haven't started playing Christmas music in the stores yet. Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer, anyone?
I love Christmas. I have stated this many, many times, all rather convincingly I'd like to think. I just liked it better back in the day, when we celebrated it in DECEMBER.
Everywhere I look, I see Christmas decorations. This year, in an amazing twist of fate, Halloween got skipped over completely (I'm okay with that) and we went straight to Christmas. At the beginning of October.
I would have written about this crazy little phenomena earlier but I was tied up with SuperHubby. Since he's moving around without his geriatric walker these days, I feel I can blog at will. And so I will.
Like I said, LOVE LOVE LOVE Christmas. I love everything it stands for. I love the decorations. I love the food. I love the family. I love the hunt for gifts, the wrapping of gifts, the giving of gifts, the opening of gifts. I love the looks on my boys faces when they open THAT ONE gift that they REALLY wanted and didn't think they'd get...every year. Awesomeness.
I've already finished my Christmas cards for this year. Now that SH is on the road to recovery, I can plan my photo shoot for the boys and mark that puppy of my list.
But I really can't take putting up the decorations this early. I realize it's the whole "the sky is falling" economy that has pushed us to this. Christmas has to be marketed as early as possible, or people might somehow forget it's coming, and not buy as much (or anything). God forbid.
Well, I think this is the year for a more scaled-back season. Back to basics, I like to think of it. Oh, my kids will get gifts...I'm not an ogre...but maybe not as many, and certainly not as costly. I'm coming up with clever, creative ways to spend the holidays without spending our rent money. And it's FUN!
Maybe it's because the weather was over 90 up until last week. I don't know. Now that it's a little chilly outside, I'm feeling a wee bit more festive. At least they haven't started playing Christmas music in the stores yet. Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer, anyone?
Friday, October 17, 2008
Aeva Fitzgerald
I am officially a great-aunt for the second time, thanks to my nephew Brian. Here he is with his precious baby girl, Aeva. She was born October 8, 2008.
I am officially a great-aunt for the second time, thanks to my nephew Brian. Here he is with his precious baby girl, Aeva. She was born October 8, 2008.
Please keep Aeva and her parents, Brian and Autumn, in your prayers. She was born at a healthy weight (almost 9 pounds) but has been having difficulty breathing - seems she stops for no apparent reason. They sent her home with a monitor and have taught Brian and Autumn how to do infant CPR. Obviously this is a scary situation for them.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Obit Observations
One of the funniest bits on Friends was early in the show, before they tried too hard, when Phoebe went to visit her grandmother. Grandma had out the newspaper and the phone book. Paper was turned to the obits. When asked what she was doing, she replied, "Updating the phone book." Classic.
I'm not morbid, but I love the obituaries. I read them every day. I don't know what I find so fascinating about them, but I cannot NOT turn to that section ... before I look at anything else ... to check things out. Been doing it since I was a kid.
I don't really read them all. (As if that makes it better.) I only scan them, find the ones that seem particularly tragic, and then read those in great detail. It's like a sick little game. Read the obit and see if you can figure out how the person died.
Things have gotten better in recent years; it has become more acceptable to add a few words to make things more personal. Used to be, you got "He was born, he got married, he had kids, he died, come Friday for the funeral" and that was it. Now people add things like "She is survived by her lifelong companions Bert and Ernie, cockapoos that never left her side even while she soiled herself in her final moments." It's touching, really.
Still, when I check out the obits and something strikes me as not being old-age-death, I need details. Can't we just require people put that in the announcement? If it's a young person, or worse, a kid, I need to know. Was it a car accident? Cancer? Lice infestation? Inquiring minds want to know.
Sometimes you can figure it out. It all depends on where they ask you to make donations in lieu of flowers. If it's the American Cancer Society, you pretty much know. If it's the SPCA, either they had rabies, or they were very lonely ladies with lots of cats. Sometimes there will be an accompanying article elsewhere in the paper that spells things out in wonderful, lurid detail; but usually it takes quite a bit of detective work.
Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way. Probably so. But I think the obituaries should be more like reporting a story. It sure would make my life a lot easier.
And people could stop putting those ridiculous RIP stencils on the back windows of their cars. That would also be helpful. For future reference: That's not how I want to be remembered by my family, friends, and any strangers driving past at 80 mph on the interstate.
One of the funniest bits on Friends was early in the show, before they tried too hard, when Phoebe went to visit her grandmother. Grandma had out the newspaper and the phone book. Paper was turned to the obits. When asked what she was doing, she replied, "Updating the phone book." Classic.
I'm not morbid, but I love the obituaries. I read them every day. I don't know what I find so fascinating about them, but I cannot NOT turn to that section ... before I look at anything else ... to check things out. Been doing it since I was a kid.
I don't really read them all. (As if that makes it better.) I only scan them, find the ones that seem particularly tragic, and then read those in great detail. It's like a sick little game. Read the obit and see if you can figure out how the person died.
Things have gotten better in recent years; it has become more acceptable to add a few words to make things more personal. Used to be, you got "He was born, he got married, he had kids, he died, come Friday for the funeral" and that was it. Now people add things like "She is survived by her lifelong companions Bert and Ernie, cockapoos that never left her side even while she soiled herself in her final moments." It's touching, really.
Still, when I check out the obits and something strikes me as not being old-age-death, I need details. Can't we just require people put that in the announcement? If it's a young person, or worse, a kid, I need to know. Was it a car accident? Cancer? Lice infestation? Inquiring minds want to know.
Sometimes you can figure it out. It all depends on where they ask you to make donations in lieu of flowers. If it's the American Cancer Society, you pretty much know. If it's the SPCA, either they had rabies, or they were very lonely ladies with lots of cats. Sometimes there will be an accompanying article elsewhere in the paper that spells things out in wonderful, lurid detail; but usually it takes quite a bit of detective work.
Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way. Probably so. But I think the obituaries should be more like reporting a story. It sure would make my life a lot easier.
And people could stop putting those ridiculous RIP stencils on the back windows of their cars. That would also be helpful. For future reference: That's not how I want to be remembered by my family, friends, and any strangers driving past at 80 mph on the interstate.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
That's My Boy!!
Everyone at work has heard the story a million times this week, but for the record, I'm very proud, and I'm going to brag on my son.
Last weekend, the boys spent Friday night with my aunt and uncle. This is nothing new; they do this all the time. The unusual thing was that at 9:00 on Saturday morning, Spanky called me. Seems he'd been thinking about going hunting with Uncle Leroy. Considering it was raining at that moment and I knew they wouldn't go if it was raining, I gave my blessing. I took him some supplies (on the off chance he got to go) and gave every indication that I was supporting my 13-year-old in his endeavor to hold a rifle. Notice I didn't say "shoot."
While we were at church Saturday, I got a voice mail from Spanky. It was raining; they weren't going; but he wanted to stay another night. Now I had a problem. That would put him out until very late on a school night. I decided to go for Awesome Mom of the Year and gave my okay.
Around 8:30 on Sunday night, I got The Call. Spanky shouted into the phone, "I got something!" Seroiusly. I said, "No you did not!" (Such an encourager) Then he said, "Yep. I got a 6 point buck!"
So here he is, his second time EVER hunting, and he manages to get a 6 point buck. I didn't think he could hit air, so this was quite impressive to me. And he's been flying high all week.
And now...here's the proof...
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Top 5 Things I Love about the Olympics
Unless you've been under a rock recently, the biggest thing going these days is the Olympics. Everybody loves the Olympics. They are so big that the two guys in Georgia claim to have a dead Big Foot in a freezer, and are they getting any press time? No. They came out with it in the middle of Olympic Fever. Next time, they should take a page from Lizard Man and come up with their craziness in the middle of October.
But I digress. I've been thinking about what I really love about the Olympics. It's certainly not watching the events. I have a hard time getting interested if the US isn't competing, and even then I have a hard time if it's some random, unheard-of faux sport. So without further ado, my top 5 reasons that I love the Olympics.
#5 - The scandals. Someone always does something to offend someone else. This year, we were lucky enough as a nation to be involved. Our cyclists got off the plane with surgical masks covering their faces...because of the smog. That's a nice kick in the groin to your host.
#4 - The opening ceremonies. These are awesome. As soon as they find out they're the host city, they go into overdrive prepping for a better-than-ever event. Bejing was spectacular. AND they managed to toss in a little scandal (see above) when they had an adorable little girl represent their country and lip-sync while a talented, pudgy little girl got no credit whatsoever. Awesome.
Bronze - The underdog stories. Oh, we always have these, don't we? The guy who was born in poverty, escaped to America, and now is carrying the torch for his team because he overcame all these trials. That's what it's all about.
Silver - The commercials. I LOVE the commercials. This year, they had Olympic preview commercials. One was about Keri Strug doing her perfect vault on a broken ankle. The other - my fave - was about some guy (can't remember his name) who got injured and came in dead last - with his dad helping him. Love that crap. I'm crying right now.
Gold - When the USA wins and they play our song. Okay, whatever, it's great whoever wins. That's the Olympic spirit. But in all honesty, when one of our guys/girls/teams is on that slightly-higher-than-the-others block, and our flag is waving and our song is playing, there's just nothing better. It makes you feel like you somehow had a hand in it, just by virtue of being an American. That's awesomeness.
Of course, I like to see all the wonderful sportsmanship and it's great to live vicariously through these athletes as they experience what might possibly be the greatest moments of their lives, but these, friends, are my top five Olympic moments.
Unless you've been under a rock recently, the biggest thing going these days is the Olympics. Everybody loves the Olympics. They are so big that the two guys in Georgia claim to have a dead Big Foot in a freezer, and are they getting any press time? No. They came out with it in the middle of Olympic Fever. Next time, they should take a page from Lizard Man and come up with their craziness in the middle of October.
But I digress. I've been thinking about what I really love about the Olympics. It's certainly not watching the events. I have a hard time getting interested if the US isn't competing, and even then I have a hard time if it's some random, unheard-of faux sport. So without further ado, my top 5 reasons that I love the Olympics.
#5 - The scandals. Someone always does something to offend someone else. This year, we were lucky enough as a nation to be involved. Our cyclists got off the plane with surgical masks covering their faces...because of the smog. That's a nice kick in the groin to your host.
#4 - The opening ceremonies. These are awesome. As soon as they find out they're the host city, they go into overdrive prepping for a better-than-ever event. Bejing was spectacular. AND they managed to toss in a little scandal (see above) when they had an adorable little girl represent their country and lip-sync while a talented, pudgy little girl got no credit whatsoever. Awesome.
Bronze - The underdog stories. Oh, we always have these, don't we? The guy who was born in poverty, escaped to America, and now is carrying the torch for his team because he overcame all these trials. That's what it's all about.
Silver - The commercials. I LOVE the commercials. This year, they had Olympic preview commercials. One was about Keri Strug doing her perfect vault on a broken ankle. The other - my fave - was about some guy (can't remember his name) who got injured and came in dead last - with his dad helping him. Love that crap. I'm crying right now.
Gold - When the USA wins and they play our song. Okay, whatever, it's great whoever wins. That's the Olympic spirit. But in all honesty, when one of our guys/girls/teams is on that slightly-higher-than-the-others block, and our flag is waving and our song is playing, there's just nothing better. It makes you feel like you somehow had a hand in it, just by virtue of being an American. That's awesomeness.
Of course, I like to see all the wonderful sportsmanship and it's great to live vicariously through these athletes as they experience what might possibly be the greatest moments of their lives, but these, friends, are my top five Olympic moments.
Friday, August 08, 2008
200 Pomegranates and an Audience of One
Today's the big day. 8-8-08. Around our office, it's not just the start of the Olympics. Everyone knows today's the day when Shawn's book hits Amazon.
Shawn has written a great book about how we each make a difference every day, whether we realize it or not...that God has designed us just for that reason...we just need to realize our potential. I'll be honest: I didn't really realize mine until I read the book.
I'm not one to write book reviews, but I want to promote the book for a couple of reasons. One - Shawn's my friend. Two - and more importantly - because I think everyone who reads it will come away realizing they are an artist performing for an audience of one. It will help you discover so much about yourself.
So buy it today on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com
Today's the big day. 8-8-08. Around our office, it's not just the start of the Olympics. Everyone knows today's the day when Shawn's book hits Amazon.
Shawn has written a great book about how we each make a difference every day, whether we realize it or not...that God has designed us just for that reason...we just need to realize our potential. I'll be honest: I didn't really realize mine until I read the book.
I'm not one to write book reviews, but I want to promote the book for a couple of reasons. One - Shawn's my friend. Two - and more importantly - because I think everyone who reads it will come away realizing they are an artist performing for an audience of one. It will help you discover so much about yourself.
So buy it today on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Moving Into This Century
In the past 24 hours, I have signed up for Facebook and Twitter. I'm not entirely sure what to do with either of these tools, or how to do it, but I'm excited that I can actually pretend like I'm cool now.
I only have 1 person following me on Twitter. That's a little sad. And I only have 42 friends on Facebook. I don't know if that's sad or not.
Now that I've joined the rest of the world, count on these 2 to go by the wayside within the next 6-8 months.
In the past 24 hours, I have signed up for Facebook and Twitter. I'm not entirely sure what to do with either of these tools, or how to do it, but I'm excited that I can actually pretend like I'm cool now.
I only have 1 person following me on Twitter. That's a little sad. And I only have 42 friends on Facebook. I don't know if that's sad or not.
Now that I've joined the rest of the world, count on these 2 to go by the wayside within the next 6-8 months.
License to Drive
Recently I've noticed a lot more personalized license plates on cars. The first time I saw this cute little trendiness, I was in middle school and one of the snobby high schoolers was given a BMW by her rich daddy. The license plate read ITSMINE.
Now I've noticed people trying to be super-clever with their tags. SOCRMOM, USCFAN, PAIDFOR, ELCID84 (for those not from Charleston - Citadel graduate, class of 1984). There is a virtual plethora of personalized tags around town. Most you can tell what they mean; some get too cutesy and you don't have a clue.
I actually knew a woman whose tag was WITCH. She wanted something different; the DMV wouldn't let her put a cuss word on the back of her car. She settled. Personally I think if the DMV had known her better, they would have let her have the one she really wanted.
I've been trying to come up with something fantastic for my car. Can't do it. I was thinking GR8HAIR but that's a given...so why even bother? HOTMAMA is probably taken. I could go with LORIFIT but that's a little lame. So I think I'll just stick with regular DMV issue boringness.
Meanwhile, I saw the BEST PLATE EVER last week. It was WDYTISF. It only took me a minute. Can you figure it out?
Recently I've noticed a lot more personalized license plates on cars. The first time I saw this cute little trendiness, I was in middle school and one of the snobby high schoolers was given a BMW by her rich daddy. The license plate read ITSMINE.
Now I've noticed people trying to be super-clever with their tags. SOCRMOM, USCFAN, PAIDFOR, ELCID84 (for those not from Charleston - Citadel graduate, class of 1984). There is a virtual plethora of personalized tags around town. Most you can tell what they mean; some get too cutesy and you don't have a clue.
I actually knew a woman whose tag was WITCH. She wanted something different; the DMV wouldn't let her put a cuss word on the back of her car. She settled. Personally I think if the DMV had known her better, they would have let her have the one she really wanted.
I've been trying to come up with something fantastic for my car. Can't do it. I was thinking GR8HAIR but that's a given...so why even bother? HOTMAMA is probably taken. I could go with LORIFIT but that's a little lame. So I think I'll just stick with regular DMV issue boringness.
Meanwhile, I saw the BEST PLATE EVER last week. It was WDYTISF. It only took me a minute. Can you figure it out?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
JBJ for President
I've made my decision. Since Barack Obama's name obviously indicates that his mama never loved him, and John McCain is in effect "Republican deoderant" (to the Dems BO)...I don't think I can vote for either of them in good conscience.
My pick?
Jon Bon Jovi.
I don't know what kind of President he'd be. But he sure is easy on the eyes.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Movie Review
I don't usually enjoy going to movie theaters. I hate paying that much for something I can wait a few months and watch much cheaper, and I hate being tied down to doing only one thing for 2 hours. Multitasking is our friend!
But Spanky loves going to the movies. So when there's a movie that doesn't particularly offend my sensibilities, I will treat him and take him out. Usually it's just the two of us, since FrogBoy has real issues with the noise level and SH has to stay with him.
So far this summer we've see Iron Man, Hancock and The Dark Knight. Not going to go into those very much, except to say that I'm trying to talk a friend into going to see The Dark Knight again because I think it was the best movie I've ever seen. OHMYGOODNESS. But that's not my point.
When we went to see Hancock, I decided to take Spanky to the new Cinebarre theater in Mt. P. For those not in the know, they scooped out over half the seating and installed a bar (hence the name) in front of each row of chairs. They have a full menu and it's really a cool deal. By the time we went, one week into the deal, they had all the kinks worked out. I understand from friends it wasn't quite as smooth when they first opened. But when we went, we ordered a cheese pizza, a milkshake (him) and sweet tea (me, duh). Total cost: $17. Pretty much what we would have spent if we'd gone out afterwards for pizza.
However, there's really no reason to go to Cinebarre if you're not going for the food. We went there for The Dark Knight, and didn't order anything except drinks. While they took out half the seating to accomodate the bar, they didn't upgrade the movie experience at all...the screen is the same, the sound is the same, the chairs are even the same. The only difference is there are less of them, which means the show sold out FAST, and we ended up on the front row.
That's not really my point either. My point is this: I think Cinebarre is really missing the boat with their idea. What's the first thing you think of when you hear "Cinebarre"? If you're me, you think of the extreme deliciousness of the most awesome treat in the world: Cinnabon. Just looking at the picture on their website makes you drool. And since the name is already right there in "Cinebarre," why not combine the two? Can you imagine watching a movie, noshing on a big fat Cinnabon or 6, and having a tall, cold glass of milk?
What a wonderful world it would be.
I don't usually enjoy going to movie theaters. I hate paying that much for something I can wait a few months and watch much cheaper, and I hate being tied down to doing only one thing for 2 hours. Multitasking is our friend!
But Spanky loves going to the movies. So when there's a movie that doesn't particularly offend my sensibilities, I will treat him and take him out. Usually it's just the two of us, since FrogBoy has real issues with the noise level and SH has to stay with him.
So far this summer we've see Iron Man, Hancock and The Dark Knight. Not going to go into those very much, except to say that I'm trying to talk a friend into going to see The Dark Knight again because I think it was the best movie I've ever seen. OHMYGOODNESS. But that's not my point.
When we went to see Hancock, I decided to take Spanky to the new Cinebarre theater in Mt. P. For those not in the know, they scooped out over half the seating and installed a bar (hence the name) in front of each row of chairs. They have a full menu and it's really a cool deal. By the time we went, one week into the deal, they had all the kinks worked out. I understand from friends it wasn't quite as smooth when they first opened. But when we went, we ordered a cheese pizza, a milkshake (him) and sweet tea (me, duh). Total cost: $17. Pretty much what we would have spent if we'd gone out afterwards for pizza.
However, there's really no reason to go to Cinebarre if you're not going for the food. We went there for The Dark Knight, and didn't order anything except drinks. While they took out half the seating to accomodate the bar, they didn't upgrade the movie experience at all...the screen is the same, the sound is the same, the chairs are even the same. The only difference is there are less of them, which means the show sold out FAST, and we ended up on the front row.
That's not really my point either. My point is this: I think Cinebarre is really missing the boat with their idea. What's the first thing you think of when you hear "Cinebarre"? If you're me, you think of the extreme deliciousness of the most awesome treat in the world: Cinnabon. Just looking at the picture on their website makes you drool. And since the name is already right there in "Cinebarre," why not combine the two? Can you imagine watching a movie, noshing on a big fat Cinnabon or 6, and having a tall, cold glass of milk?
What a wonderful world it would be.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Now That's Entertainment
A couple of weeks ago, SuperHubby and I visited MUSC. If you have to ask why, you are not my friend. Anyway, we spent 6 hours in the ER and I have never been so entertained in all my life.
First, there was an older lady who was here on vacation and had apparently fallen. Her leg was swollen and purple. She didn't want to come to the hospital but her entire family wanted her to be seen. After listening to her and her son all morning, I think they just wanted her out of the house so they could get some peace and quiet.
Then there was the rode-hard-and-hung-up-wet lady in her 40s that came in. She had tried to OD and was very upset that no one was taking her seriously. She had taken 6 cold tablets. Even the ER doctor couldn't get excited about her dilemma. She was happy as soon as they asked her to pee in a cup.
But my favorite was the trailer folk on the far end of the room. Apparently the boyfriend had some sort of nasty, infected something that needed to be drained. The girlfriend had been doing bathroom surgery on him for quite some time and was very pleased with her ability to drain said nastiness, but it was causing him a great deal of pain so they came to the ER. And he was SCREAMING.
Of course, his honey was kind enough to tell him that he was being a big baby. She told him she'd had 3 babies and never acted as stupid as he was acting. And she called him many unflattering names, which I cannot write about.
At one point our nurse came over and told us the problem. Seems the genius had staples that needed to be removed. He'd waited too long...over a year...and now they were infected. And they were in his butt.
Well that was it for me. If I wasn't paying attention before, I certainly was now. This was some show. (That explains the bill for $9000 we got this week!). They gave him a shot (in his butt). He screamed. They drained the deal. He screamed. And they tried to remove the staples. At that point I think he almost fainted.
According to his by-now-supportive girlfriend, it wasn't his fault that he didn't have the staples removed. He was in jail when they were supposed to come out.
The doctors finally did all they could do for him and scheduled follow-up surgery so they could continue the procedure without him screaming and cussing every 2 seconds.
Then the kicker: He very seriously asks the doctor EXACTLY what he meant when he told him if he didn't get this taken care of, he could get gangrene of the groin area. How bad could that really be? And could he go ahead and check it and make sure he was okay? Sweetness was all for that - she wanted to make sure everything was where it should be before she left with him.
The doctor laughed out loud. And I'm glad, because I don't think they could hear me howling.
A couple of weeks ago, SuperHubby and I visited MUSC. If you have to ask why, you are not my friend. Anyway, we spent 6 hours in the ER and I have never been so entertained in all my life.
First, there was an older lady who was here on vacation and had apparently fallen. Her leg was swollen and purple. She didn't want to come to the hospital but her entire family wanted her to be seen. After listening to her and her son all morning, I think they just wanted her out of the house so they could get some peace and quiet.
Then there was the rode-hard-and-hung-up-wet lady in her 40s that came in. She had tried to OD and was very upset that no one was taking her seriously. She had taken 6 cold tablets. Even the ER doctor couldn't get excited about her dilemma. She was happy as soon as they asked her to pee in a cup.
But my favorite was the trailer folk on the far end of the room. Apparently the boyfriend had some sort of nasty, infected something that needed to be drained. The girlfriend had been doing bathroom surgery on him for quite some time and was very pleased with her ability to drain said nastiness, but it was causing him a great deal of pain so they came to the ER. And he was SCREAMING.
Of course, his honey was kind enough to tell him that he was being a big baby. She told him she'd had 3 babies and never acted as stupid as he was acting. And she called him many unflattering names, which I cannot write about.
At one point our nurse came over and told us the problem. Seems the genius had staples that needed to be removed. He'd waited too long...over a year...and now they were infected. And they were in his butt.
Well that was it for me. If I wasn't paying attention before, I certainly was now. This was some show. (That explains the bill for $9000 we got this week!). They gave him a shot (in his butt). He screamed. They drained the deal. He screamed. And they tried to remove the staples. At that point I think he almost fainted.
According to his by-now-supportive girlfriend, it wasn't his fault that he didn't have the staples removed. He was in jail when they were supposed to come out.
The doctors finally did all they could do for him and scheduled follow-up surgery so they could continue the procedure without him screaming and cussing every 2 seconds.
Then the kicker: He very seriously asks the doctor EXACTLY what he meant when he told him if he didn't get this taken care of, he could get gangrene of the groin area. How bad could that really be? And could he go ahead and check it and make sure he was okay? Sweetness was all for that - she wanted to make sure everything was where it should be before she left with him.
The doctor laughed out loud. And I'm glad, because I don't think they could hear me howling.
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