The minivan and I continue to get to know each other. It's been forced, really, because it seems as if we are always together, hurtling toward the next destination. Also, there are lots of upcoming road trips, so, we really need to get along.
This past weekend alone saw hours of driving, for two very different weddings, in two very different locations, each approximately two hours from home, and in opposite directions.
Thus far, it drives like a champ, and continues to contain everything we need to haul along with us conveniently, while fitting the kids in relative comfort. Once they finish arguing over who gets to sit in the middle row. Also, it was recently used for a target, as George figured out how to fling things with a spoon, and proceeded to practice, by covering the entire driver's side of poor Huckleberry in mud. A thing I did not realize, until I was getting ready to run to the store for last minute 4th of July items. I screeched to a halt next to my van in amazement. And correctly assumed which kid was responsible. A side trip to the car wash found me standing behind a guy at the change machine, waiting my turn.
"Wow, Lady! You go mudding in that thing?"
"I have no idea what happened to it. My kid is responsible."
"Teenagers. I feel for ya. Looks like they had a good time. No respect these days."
"He's FIVE."
"Wow. Good luck with that."
*Sigh.*
Anyway, flinging mud with a spoon soon became flinging pebbles with a spoon, which became teaching Joe how to do it, which became Joe teaching his cousin how to do it, which became my sister's shattered back car window, as a pebble hit it just right on a hot day with the windows up. My sister's car evidently was not impressed, and was actually totaled a week later, as she was headed to my house. I'm not saying her car DELIBERATELY totaled itself, so that it didn't have to be at my house ever again, but.....
Back to poor Huckleberry. The van was scrubbed off, and even vacuumed out, and seems to be relatively okay. Except, it has this Bluetooth phone feature. In which I push this magic button on the steering wheel and this pleasant voice tells me it is ready for phone calls. (Side note here. I am an LPN TCT - Telehealth Clinical Technician. My JOB is to handle all things computer and technical. My neighbor set this up for me...) Anyhow, magic button, pleasant voice, etc. I can command it to call whomever I want. And usually, we are in a good mood, and it repeats the name, and then calls it. Seriously. My kids think it's the most amazing thing EVER.
Sometimes, though, I am pretty sure the van is in a bad mood. "Please say a command!" it will say.
"Call Lexi."
"Call 90?"
"No. Call LEXI"
"Call 8097?"
"HAHAHAHA! NO! CALL. LLLEEEEXXXIIII!"
"Call Bri?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! NO! PLEASE! Call LHEXSEE"
"Call 47152?"
"Never mind."
Normally, it's all pretty funny, and we have all laugh over it. Except yesterday. Evidently, the van and I were both in a bad mood at the same time. I was late leavening work, had a splitting headache, and was late getting the boys to their baseball award ceremony.
"Please say a command!"
"Call Kaila."
"Call The Law?
"No. Call Kaila."
"Call 7624?"
"No! Call Kaila!"
"Call Wendy Brown?"
"NO! PLEASE! CALL KAILA."
"Call 90?"
"NO DAMMIT!!! CALL. KAILA NOW!!!!!!!!"
"Call Mom?"
"NO! DON'T CALL MY MOM! CALL MY KID!!! CALL KAILA!!!!!!'
"Call 42?"
"I SWEAR TO GOODNESS YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF AND CALL KAILA RIGHT. NOW!!!!!!!!!"
"Call Jasin?"
"I hate you. You know it, don't you."
And, it hung up and stopped talking.
"FINE. MAKE me break the law! I will CALL Kaila FROM MY PHONE, and it will go strait to you, and you will HAVE to play it thru the speakers! HA!" ...... "OMG. I am arguing with my vehicle. And I think it won."
Anyhow. The boys got to their award ceremony - Bearded Man, alerted to my bad mood, took them, and I took a nap.
I think the next big adventure in the van will be to the Color Run 5k in Buffalo in only a few short weeks. Which I have not trained for. At all. Between the cold I had for a month, and the rain, and sleep; I haven't walked much at all. Let alone run anyplace. I really need to get back to work on this whole moving thing. I am in no shape currently, to hike up those mountains in October. I have a patient who has all these medical problems, and is trying to become a member of the "46 Peaks" Club; people who have hiked up all 46 Adirondack peaks. He and his wife come in all the time, to ask how I am doing with the training. And then laugh at me. Ah well. We'll worry about it in October.
Speaking of people laughing. I got another pedicure the other day. I totally treated myself to a mani/pedi before all the weddings of last weekend. The nail place is seriously across the road from where I work. However, the entire street is closed and torn up, due to construction, so, getting across the street takes some serious planning and time. I was 5 minutes late. I was waved irritably toward a pedi chair, where I hopped up and looked around. Confident women everywhere, on their phones, looking like they knew what they were doing, and completely ignoring the people working on them. I don't know what the proper protocol is. Do you talk? Do you not talk? Do you watch? Do you not watch? Do you play with the buttons for the massage chair, or don't you, because, if you don't have any idea how it works, then you just look like an idiot. "Moriah. You will NOT apologize for gardening in your bare feet. You. Will. NOT!" Was the mantra going thru my head, while I sat there uncomfortably, wondering what I was supposed to do while another human was doing wonderful things to my feet.
"I am so sorry. I garden in my bare feet. I am sorry. Ummm." To the confused look of the man at my feet. "Anyway. Ummm. Sorry."
"You want design on toes? Flowers?"
"YES! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" Followed by rapid Chinese and mutual laughter with the co worker next to him.
While I was there, another lady came in, and ended up in the chair next to mine. "I want a pedi. A FULL one. With the wraps and scrubs and towels." Stuck her feet in the tub, and began to play with the massage chair buttons. And it went terribly wrong, and she began to get bumped up and down, jiggling all over, her feet splashing in the tub, while pretending none of this was happening, as she frantically tried to stop it. I was SO relieved I skipped the massage chair buttons.
An hour and a half later, I was finished. My nails were perfect, and I left a really nice tip.
As far as canning and freezing things: Nothing has happened. I missed strawberry season, and I am this close to missing pea season. Every weekend is just so jam packed, that the time to do all this just isn't there. This is me: wanting canned and frozen awesomeness, and not particularly caring that I haven't done it. So sad.
This upcoming week, Joe will be at Scout Camp. It is supposed to rain nearly every day. Either Joe will love every manly minute of it, or, he will accuse me of hating him. It could go either way, really.
Joe came storming home from the neighbor's the other evening just stewing. "Mom. I just got FIRED! By TWO FIVE year olds! AND called names! All because I told them they need to lower the prices on their rocks!"
"WHAT?" (Side note. I had to get a professional mani/pedi, because my kids, and the neighbor kids, have spend the entire summer using my nail polish to paint rocks.)
"They are taking rocks, putting approximately three dabs of nail polish on them, and trying to sell them for too high prices. The cheapest is a tiny stone for TEN DOLLARS! And, they have a chunk of concrete for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, Joe."
"Fine. I am going to paint MORE rocks, and sell them cheaper, and make MORE money, because they won't sell ANY!"
To date, no rocks have actually been sold...
Also, my new front garden is really filling in. I had planted lots and lots of bulbs, flowers and roots, and things are growing. Including pumpkins. Mother's Day weekend, I stopped at one of my favorite green houses, along with some of the kids. The kids were taken to this sweet little area, to plant flowers and seeds for their Mamas. George chose pumpkins as his seeds, and, planted three of them. And then proceeded to take EXCELLENT care of them in their little cup. And they SPROUTED. So, he planted them. Right in my new front garden. He was so very proud of himself. And, they are taking off beautifully. I grin every single time I see them, poking underneath the Black Eyed Susans.
That is the summer at our house to date. It's only going to get busier!
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