I don't think she meant to kill it

Almost everyday my stomach starts to grumble around noon. That's when I start to watch the clock, my lunch is at 1:00. I planned it that way, when I get back at 2:00 the rest of the day goes by fast. It's a good plan. Most days I go home because fast food everyday doesn't appeal to me and I let the dog out. Today I also wanted to check on a sick Boy #2 and bring him some Ginger Ale because he puked all night. Please God don't let me catch the stomach flu, please, please, please.
Now that it's cold out again my flip flops have been exchanged for my cool boots. I had my CFM boots on today. Please don't ask, figure out what each letter stands for, I try to maintain a PG-13 blog.
So not being use to high heels I just need the dog to go out, pee and come right back in.
I'm so sorry Relax Max for mentioning pee in yet another post.
She should pee right away because it's raining and she's a sissy, hates the rain and will only go out in it if she really has to go bad.
"Keep an eye on her." I tell Boy #2. "Let me know if she goes, I have to get lunch."
30 seconds later, "Mom, it looks like she has something."
"What do you mean has something?"
"She's behind the bushes and I heard a weird noise."
Now I have to go out in the rain, this will screw up my hair.
"Oh my God, oh my God, she has a squirrel. What do I do? Oh my God."
Do you get the gist of me panicking?
First I see the unmistakable big squirrel tail, then the dog comes out of the bushes with the entire squirrel. And I'm out there with my high heels trying to grab the dog without getting touched by the flailing squirrel. The squirrel was panicking too, for good reason, it was in the jaws of my killer dog that's afraid of rain.
"Buckeye, let go, let go, oh my God. Come here, come, Buckeye!" The panicking continued. There was a lot of swearing. Where the hell is Boy #2? Where is he?
The dog released the squirrel and I grab her collar, dragged her in the house and Boy #2 was sitting on the steps. "Check her for any scratches."
I looked outside and the squirrel lay there twitching. More swearing. "Damn, look at it."
"She killed it.....almost."
"This is a crisis now."
"You should have seen how funny you looked on the steps trying to get her."
"I hope you throw up again."

I called the husband to fill him in on the crisis, he didn't seem to grasp the trauma I just went through.
"You know, you're going to have to come home from work and take this squirrel to the vet and they're going to have to fly in tiny instruments from El Paso and it will be a costly and difficult procedure. Once he's discharged you'll have to make sure he gets his medicine six times a day and keep his tail elevated."

You have to be a member of the Seinfeld cult to get that last line. I tried to find a YouTube clip but couldn't. Here's the script.

STELLA!

When Boy #3 had all four wisdom teeth surgically removed, he was presented with a prescription for Vicodin. I'm not sure how to spell it but who cares really. The family can't handle the drug and they are fun to watch when on it. I pretty much moved Boy #3 around the house like a puppet that weekend he was hopped up. I left him on his own when he went to the bathroom, I just waited outside in case I heard a thud. I was willing to help as much as I could but we have to draw the line somewhere. I didn't cross over the peeing line or the feeding of the leopard gecko. You have to touch crickets to feed Sid. Boy #3 insisted he could do it. "I can call your brother."
"I got it."
So I stood there holding him steady while he tried to grab crickets. I hadn't suppressed laughter like that since I was a kid sitting in church and Erv and I tried to make each other laugh. Those crickets were 3 steps ahead of him and he thought they were in his hand. We laugh about it now, well I do, he doesn't remember it.
The husband a few years ago got shingles, pretty sure that's an old person ailment but I kept my mouth shut. He was bestowed a prescription of Vicodin also. Thanksgiving Day getting ready to go to his sisters house I yelled down the hall, "Are you ready shingle boy?" No answer. "Did you take your Vicodin?" I turned the corner with a crock pot of mashed potatoes in my arms and saw him at the end of the hall with a stupid grin on his face and he yelled, "STELLA!"

You Anti-Dentite Bastards

I don't know why the jokes about dentists not being real doctors runs rampant on television and movies. Exhibit 1 this Seinfeld clip. Dentists give shots, you know the ones that feel like they're going up to your brain or out the other side of your mouth. And they prescribe drugs, good drugs. They even give you drugs in their office and those are the ones for which you need a designated driver and they take you with your prescriptions to pick up more drugs, they have to do the talking for you.

I watched The Hangover for the third time, I find myself with a huge crush on Bradley Cooper, which is okay because the husband says if Meg Ryan ever knocked on our door he'd kick me to the curb. That's a good picture of him................

Oh, dentists. In The Hangover the made fun of Andy from The Office who played Stu and they said he was a dentist not a real doctor several times. Good movie though.

Anyway I guess I'm sticking up for dentist because I have to go back after the appointment I had Tuesday, and then again. Hey if I want to drink mocha's without pain I gotta do what I gotta do. And since I have to go back and forth to the dentist/doctor, I plan on sending out good karma points to all the dentists out there that have to put up with you Anti-Dentite Bastards.
Really you only get that anti-dentite bastard line if you're a Seinfeld enthusiast.

Usually my alcohol comes in a plastic cup

Erv and I convened at his house to try and put together the pieces of LOST, for about 10 minutes, then we decided to drink and play corn-hole. I was a little disappointed he and my sister-in-law hadn't mixed up a batch of adult punch, but I guess they still remember the last time I got my hands on the punch bowl.

"Are they going to heaven by way of that church? Over half of them killed at least 1 to 3 people and Michael has to stay on the island with the whisper people?"

Instead my sister-in-law handed me a wine class. I looked at this foreign object in my hand, usually my alcohol comes in a plastic cup, I'm not a wine person. I try, but I don't like it. So when my mom and sister-in-law start talking wine I quietly sit munching on cheese-its until I can jump into the conversation again.
"I think I found a wine you'll like." She's desperately trying to include me, she's so sweet. After unscrewing the cap she filled my wine glass, I felt so classy, and then dumped in some crushed ice. She and my mom waited with anticipation as I sipped a sip. "I think I like it, but will it give me a good buzz like the adult punch?"
"Just drink it."

"If they are all moving on, all dead in LOST, why are they taking baby Aaron with them, he was already born and three years old when last we saw him?"

"Let's play corn-hole."
"I'm going to refill my wine glass first, let's be on the same team so we don't have to stand next to each other."
"Yes, we should separate."
Corn-hole has become our families obsession. Erv and I against our 74 year old father and my boy #3, the geek. We were going to try not to embarrass them.

"How did they, when did they all decide to meet in the "sideways world" once they died?" I shouted.
"Stop taking about the sideways world, you lose people when you talk about the sideways world, they look at you funny." This coming from Boy #3 who also hung on until the end of LOST and was on my side of the corn-hole game.

"Hey! Anytime you want to turn on your corn-hole mojo would be great." Erv yelled at me from the other side. We were getting our asses kicked.
"You need to get that bag on the board or we're out of this game." He yelled at me again.
It was something like 21 to 5, you need 21 to win, I had the last bag to throw to cancel out one of their bags, to stay alive. That's pressure. I had somewhat of a buzz but not an adult punch buzz, I had LOST zapping any brain cell that dared to come out of hiding and I had to get that bag on the board. I took a deep breath, got into position, brought my arm back, was ready to release the bag. And right at the point that my hand and bag were ready to separate, Boy #3 says,
"I'm gay."


Not that there's anything wrong with that. (Different show, but effectively brought me out of my LOST coma.)

Risk of Death by Electric Shock

I tried really hard to pay attention to the long winded electricity classes hosted by Relax Max HERE and HERE. He's taken it upon himself to teach the masses about "eee-lek-TRI-ci-tee". There was some talk of electrons and protons, atoms and stuff, but I never paid attention to that intellectual, book learnin' stuff when I was in school, why start now. Besides I have pictures.
My new hair dryer came with explicit instructions to not remove the tags dangling from it's cord that plugs into the holes. ("the holes" - a Seinfeld reference, but you should know that) My hair dryer wants me to see a constant reminder (diagram included) of the risk of death by electric shock and to warn others. Or they have plastered a warning of impending doom to cover their butts when some moron mis-uses an electrical appliance.