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February 19, 2006

The Abbreviated Version

A quick summary of some of this weekend's highlights before we hit the road home:

  • To the organizers of the Daytona 500: Fergie, singing the national anthem? Are you sure about that? I mean, are you really, really sure? Well, okay then. It's your race and I can't make your decisions for you. My dad turned to me and said, "Remember when this used to be a redneck sport? I don't approve of these changes." And believe it or not, I agree. Homogenity, which probably isn't a world but should be, bores me.
  • My child can eat her body weight in popcorn shrimp, and then chase it with a wagonful of canteloupe.
  • Clara Jane has figured out this present-opening business. When she opened the first gift from her mimi and grandpa, she gave a dejected, "Oh. It's diapers," when she saw it was nothing but Pull-Ups and training pants. Next year, if she happens to get underpants or socks, I fully expecte her to add, "Where the hell are the goddamn toys?".
  • I'm never eating chicken wings again, for two reasons. First, because I've eaten enough tequila-lime wings this weekend to cause me to ovulate grade A extra-large eggs. Second, I can't seem to eat wings without being attacked by domestic animals. Yesterday, while eating a wing, Chiggar lept from the floor to snatch the wing from my hand, which happened to be at my mouth. I was standing at the time, meaning he lept five feet for that wing, which he swallowed whole, bone and all. Sadly, this is not the first time I've had a chicken wing snatched from my mouth by an animal. The other time was far more humiliating, as thefive-foot vertical wing leap was made by a 12-year-old, 25-pound cat named Miss Muffin, and I screamed like a baby because Jesus, that cat scared the fuck out of me. So, no more wings for me, thanks.
  • My child is made of 100% Missouri ham, evidenced by the fact that, upon finding herself in front of 40 people, she swirled her finger through the frosting on her birthday cake, dramatically licked it off, sighed and announced, "It's delicious!" I have a feeling that, in 31 years, we'll still be waiting for her to enter her shy phase, just like my parents are still doing with me.
  • Chiggar things I rock. Me, I could do without the constant admiration and biting.
  • I referred to a rather homophobic cowboy party guest as Ennis yesterday, but I don't think he heard me.
  • I sure could use a nap while my pancreas gasps its last birthday-cake-mauled breath.

Posted by Robin at February 19, 2006 02:13 PM

Comments

Chiggar's gonna kick the bucket one of these ol' days and you're gonna miss that biting imp.

Mmmm...birthday cake.

Posted by: Dixie at February 19, 2006 06:01 PM

Oh, Robin, you do have a way with words! Your "...ovulate grade A extra-large eggs..." is still--several minute after reading it--making me laugh.

Snort laugh.

Glad the dog didn't get your face.

Posted by: Summer at February 19, 2006 10:00 PM

ROTFL!! I can't decide which part of this post is the most hysterical.

Yeah, I guess if I were you I'd give up chicken wings too... sounds like you're not destined to eat them without animal friends interfering. ;-)

Posted by: Nancy at February 20, 2006 09:00 AM