Tonight I'm too pooped to pop. That's what my gigi always says.
The reason I'm too pooped to pop is because my mom has been cleaning all day to prepare for my rock-star brother's arrival. It's exhausting ordering my mom around all day. She's such a passive resister.
And remember how I said my mom isn't as quirky as my MIL?
Well I lied!
She cheats like a mad hatter at Sudoku. And she doesn't wear her seat belt--even when the car is screaming down her neck. And she speaks softly, but she doesn't carry a big stick. And she takes no for an answer--even if you don't say no.
And you should see her eyes fill with terror everytime I ask her to do a guest post. She won't even send her own kids a copy of her Christmas letter. Is that the quirkiest thing you've ever heard or what?
So I will go ahead and guest post for her, seeing as I know exactly what she would say anyway.
First she would say "Hey, dummy, we're on the plane. You can take off your rose colored sunglasses now."
So here is me doing an impression of my mom guest posting on my blog:
Can everybody hear me? I don't really have anything to say but I'm the dummy's mom and we just had a really nice time on Kona at King Kamwhatchamacallit's hotel.
It was really fun watching my grand twins play basketball, except when the dummy accidentally elbowed me in the face. Twice. All because my feet wouldn't stop tap dancing and my mouth wouldn't stop doing the hokey pokey.
Alls I was saying was "OH GOSH! Oh my goodness! Oh GREAT! Oh No! Oh Dear! Oh oh oh, we are going to lose. I can't take it. How do you stand it? How sad that you married a sports freak and then you went ahead and gave birth to a bunch of little sports freaks."
But I was right. They did lose in the semi-finals. I totally called it.
But we still had fun and I taught her a lot of important things about life.
Like did you know that if you chew gum for 20 minutes your brain becomes more focused?
And did you know you can actually buy shoes that will exercise your calves and your buns simply by wearing them.
And did you know that big hair is happening, but brown purses are (YAWN) so not happening.
Candy Apple Red is more like it.
Crash has been a wonderful daughter, but I think she's been in Hawaii for too long. Like today we were driving to the airport to pick up my son and his family. The dummy was on the phone when out of the blue a 3 foot cockroach crawled down my arm. You could hear me scream from the Statue of Liberty. I accidentally flicked that cockroach into the dummys face. It bounced off her bangs and slid down her crooked nose right into her candy apple red purse.
She didn't even flinch. She reached down and grabbed that cockroach and was just about to toss it into the oncoming traffic when it wriggled away and scampered out of sight. EWWWW! I couldn't stop creeping out. I couldn't stop gettting chicken skin and I got whip lash from looking over my shoulder. But do you think the dummy would pull over? No, she just kept laughing her evil mad scientist cackle and saying the roach was only a baby--still in diapers.
It's a good thing she didn't tell me about this cane spider who lept to it's death into her bath water yesterday. I think I would have herniated a disc or three.
Anyway, thanks for being so supportive of my daughter's blog. I personally don't love to read it because she's kinda . . . hyper. Plus I really can't stand the word BLOG. Blog is such an ugly word.
In closing I just want to say the highlight of the trip for me was taking 30 photos of ourselves on the plane.
Here is Crash flogging me through clenched teeth.
"So help me, Gad, If you cut your face off again I'll poke your eye out!!"