Hillbillies and Death

Tonight we had another frenetic conversation in my house.  We all fight for talk time around here.  So it’s more like a verbal sword fight than family conversation. 

Myles my youngest son (15):  Mom I’ve never been to Arkansas!? Blake says I’ve been to Arkansas.

Hubster:  Yes you have hillbilly boy! That’s where you were born!  I’m sorry, didn’t you know that?  It was a really nice shed with a clean mattress….  

Me: SHUT the hell up John GAWL!   Yes you’ve been to Arkansas Myles. We went to that cave where you guys got those cool $25.00 hats. I think you were around 3 ½.  It was that trip that you almost drown in the hotel pool in Shell Knob, Mo because your dad & grandma were chatting up the hotel manager while I was taking care of your infant sister. I had to jump in the pool fully clothed to grab you…don’t you remember that?  And aren’t I a bad ass super hero mom?  

Myles:  What?  Shit! Just how many times have I almost died?  

Below is a random pic of shed born hillbilly boy.

 

Me:  Well, honestly, I’ve lost count.  But you & all of your siblings have almost died if you want to look at it that way.  Lots of dodged bullets & spooky stuff, but I like to think that you all are lucky; you in particular.  Surviving that whole hit by a car dealio while riding your bike was pretty awesome don’t cha think?  Oh and living through that Swine Flu, I mean H1N1 shit a couple years ago was pretty awesome. 

And last year you totally dumped that cougar that was rumored to have the herps right before you got too involved with her.  Ok, that wasn’t almost death, but it would have been death to your social life for ummm I dunno, FOREVER!  By the way, you still need to thank your older bro for that tip.  Suck it up buttercup!  You’re tough! You're Neo or Odysseus or some super tough shit that runs on my side of the family you bad ass mofo.

Another random pic of bullet dodger boy below.

My youngest son is my Macaulay Culkin, & fills me with angst most days.  However, he is also my muse & is responsible for one of my most memorable quotes, shortly before this photograph was taken-

"Tell Papa to get out of that box and take me fishin"- Myles Hamby  While in the hubster's arms at my dad's funeral and the only time I have ever seen tears on my husband's face. 

  

Skinny Jeans and Misunderstandings

Free Advice:

When an angry stranger mom & dad come marching down the side walk at 7 am on a Sunday & ask “Do you know where your son was last night?”  The WRONG answer is “Yes, he spent the night with his buddy so & so.” 

The RIGHT response is: “No because I don’t have a son. What? You caught someone that looks like us in your daughter’s locked bedroom this morning? Well that’s just weird.  But, if I did have a son that you saw pulling up his pants, it’s probably because he wears super low skinny jeans & is always pulling up his pants. Bye bye, have a nice day. Hope you find that bad boy. We’ll be on the look out. We certainly don't want the neighborhood going to shit."

My imaginary son is SO grounded!

The Good, Shitty and Shitty

It's all about balance.

Below are a few of my recent balancing acts.

Shitty:  Myles’ had a sleep over & he & his buddies stole a ½ bottle of Vermouth out of the pantry & were stupid enough to leave it in a back pack on the floor of his bedroom.

Good:  I don’t know that many people who are Vermouth drunks.

Shitty:  Did I mention they left it on the floor in a back pack?  Yeah, thinking special ed. I will be hiding our mouth wash & shaving cream in the future.

Shitty:  My daughter started her first, I can’t even type it, but her first little monthly friend arrived. She thought she had vuh jay cancer because it wasn’t as she had imagined and she was acting all embarrassed….REALLY?  We don’t do “Embarrassed” in our house girl!

Good:  It started BEFORE the school year started (can I possibly use the word started again? And YES she gave me blogging privileges. I don’t suck THAT bad.)

Good Again:  She bragged to Vermouth Thieves that she started her…(can’t type it) & gave the Rock n Roll hand sign. Have I mentioned that there is NO shame in our house?

Shitty:  3 am the other night my 2^nd son wakes me with this-“Mom, I’m really sorry to wake you up, but I’m kind of freaking out because I have this bump on my butt & I’m pretty sure it’s anal cancer”. WTF is up with this cancer shit?  Bye bye cool dream land arrow dude with pointy ears from Lord of the Rings...shit! (Yes, I have blogging rights-quit thinking I suck).  Me: Wow, what’s up? Let me take a look. Don’t freak out Tam, shake off mental pictures of baseball sized black tumors on your sweet child’s butt.

Good:  Pretty sure it’s an ingrown, or possibly a butt cheek zit & 2nd son seems relieved.

Shitty & Good: Yesterday at the pharmacy while picking up our 10^th Rx for Vermouth boy’s eczema, a GIGANTIC lady of about 60 behind me in line yelled “AHEM! HURRY UP!” while I was putting my debit card back into my purse.  It was SO funny to me!  I’m a get in & get out kind of girl while shopping.  I treat it like a mission.  Not a social event. In fact, I always think about the people behind me in line & rush in order not to offend.  

 I admit when I turned around & saw all of her 9 foot 400 lb glory, I was kind of shocked.  But I realized instantly that I could totally take her grouchy crippled ass (and her midget, I mean little person hubster), so I just shot her with my mean- kid cancer, booze stealing, period starting MOM eyeball lasers & she ran away crying like a little bitch-ok I made that crying part up.