Sunday, December 29, 2013

On the Twelfth Day of SERIOUSLY!?! my true love gave to me...

On the Twelfth Day of SERIOUSLY!?! my true love gave to me…
Twelve tequila shooters (I wish),
Eleven curse words uttered,
Ten keys a missing,
Nine computer crashing,
Eight guests unexpected,
Seven weird lumps growin’,
Six hours of sleep not gotten,
Five days without Facebook!
Four Offspring freakin’,
Three spastic cats,
Two geese attacked,
And this Mom who is losing her shit!

  Good morning! That’s right y’all, I didn’t fall off the edge of the Earth after all! *insert chorus of happy disembodied voices singing here* It was actually far worse; the wireless router died. I only hope my Mother-in-Law understands why her Holiday gift fund went to the purchase of a new one. (Because I have my priorities straight. THAT’S why!)

  In the mean time, me and the ever-increasing number of wripples (wrist nipples) made another pilgrimage to the Doc’s office. (‘Cause during the Holidays you don’t make “trips,” you make “pilgrimages.” It’s this unwritten Law somewhere or something.) And yay though and verily thus the Doc did spake and say, “Thou dost need an Orthopedic Surgeon and he’ll probably have to cut those things out. I still think they’re lipomas, but since there’re so many nerves and tendons in that area, it’s going to be a little tricky. Oh, and a Happy Holidays to all!”

  And just like Santa, he was gone from the room fast enough I wasn’t sure if I’d really seen him or just imagined him. *sigh*

  Then came the plague of the wireless router. Dark days, my friends. Dark days indeed! I mean, what kind of meaning does one’s life have when every computer in the house (OK, only my dinosaur) has repeated crashes (no one else’s could stay connected, but mine were the only ones insisting on crashing. Repeatedly!) And it took THREE DAYS to upload my day-late Holiday “card” to y’all. (So at this point, it’s more like “enjoy the mellow tuneage and pretty pictures” than an actual Holiday “card” per say.)

  But those times are behind me now. Last night we not only got the router, but somehow I managed to get it hooked-up and working, despite my tech-support Offspring fleeing the house and the low-hanging cloud of Mommy-created obscenities that had enveloped it. I swear, I was all Dr. Frankenstein with the, “IT’S ALIVE!!!” when the lights on the thing finally hit the “functional” position.

  Oh, and the two attacked geese? Totally fine! Picture if you’re standing in the bathroom, fresh from a hot shower and pleasantly relaxed. That would be about the time you hear a strange man’s voice coming from outside the bathroom window. Then the dogs begin going insane. Then The Girl yells something about strangers, wild dogs, and geese with broken wings?

  Now picture yourself attempting to pull flannel jammies onto a damp body while at the same time fast-hop-Frankenstein-waddling out the front door (shoe-less with wet hair. Did I mention it was 30 degrees outside?)

  Once out the door (mostly dressed with steam literally rising off your body) you encounter a very nice man from Texas, who just happens to be in town visiting his relatives for the Holidays. He brought with him a rambunctious “puppy” (as in 40 pound puppy) who managed to escape and used his bird-dog-in-training nose to find his way to my yard.

  When the puppy was apprehended, he had my smallest goose, Lil’, pinned down while two other geese were on his back attempting to disembowel him in retaliation for every feather that was flying.

I wish I could say Max was one of the brave geese flying to Lil's rescue,
but he seemed to have decided run-and-hide was a better option.
Chicken goose!

  The good new is, no critters were hurt (geese are pretty tough that way), the puppy was repentant, and the nice man was sent on his way with handshakes and wishes for a Happy New Year. Oh, and my hair eventually thawed and the feeling came back to me feet.

  And just for Jane, who asked me last week if I was related to a guy named Murphy, I shall repeat my answer here. Hubby and I have learned to laugh at Murphy ‘cause he was a flippin' optimist. He only dealt with the whole, “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”

  Around these parts we’ve got what we like to call Dean’s Law. “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And the shit that can’t? Pfft! Don’t even worry, ‘cause it’s gonna go wrong too!” Yep, it makes Life way more simple to know that, no matter what, it’s ALWAYS goin’ according to plan! *grin*

  In the mean time, I truly hope y’all have been having a wonderful Holiday week! Because, well…I’VE MISSED YOU!!!!! *squishy hugs all around*

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