Skip to main content

Yeah, I did it to make my sister mad....

And apparently it may have worked. What might that be, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

I killed our Suburban. You know, the one we should never have bought in the first place? The shiny expensive bauble that was going to take us all over Washington state tomorrow in a wild frenzy of familial visits, over indulgences in artery-clogging items full of trans-fats and sugar, and of course the no-holds-barred present unwrapping. In three different places between now and Monday evening. This was the plan.

The plan is not to be. While you're pondering this, here's the picture I surreptitiously snapped with my cell phone camera when the kids visited Santa tonight.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

The male in the photo without the white facial hair, was not pleased at the prospect of being seen at the mall, in a tie and with his parents At one point I forgot my place in the whole grand Teenage Code of Conduct While Out In Public, and I tried to touch his hand, thereby breaking a MAJOR rule and perhaps even causing a temporal shift in the time/space continuum For all I know, I've set something in motion that will bring about the end of life in our universe as we know it.

But enough about the end of the world.

My Suburban will not be taking us anywhere in the next couple of days. There is something terribly, terribly wrong with it and we were lucky to make it home from Steilacoom tonight.

God rest ye merry gentleman, let nothing you dismay......

I will admit to a bit of dismay right now. Just a smidge.


    You are lucky it is christmas, God can't stand people who humiliate their teenage sons. You are lucky it was just the vehicle rendered immobile.

  2. I have posted a music clip at my place which has been compared to your daughter's. I would say it is less embarassing, as the children involved aren't mine, but you can be the judge (Vicus already has).

  3. Anonymous1:03 PM

    here's hoping it's not engine ferrets or drive lice or anything expensive. dang. anywho, merry christmas, pam!

  4. I suggest that next year you hire Vicus to come to your private abode and dress as Santa Claus for the family picture and for your son't sake. Oh wait... we wouldn't want to scare the young children and cats... Nevermind!

  5. oops, I meant to say, "for your son's sake"

  6. Kindness, that would be easy. I dress like that all the time.


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…