Summertime Lessons

I drove into the middle-school parking lot and caught sight of parents huddled together, clutching each other in fear. Tears flowed. Peeking through windows, I saw knuckle-bumping, bear-hugging and dancing on desk-tops. Margaritas flowed.

Ah, school let out for summer.

After the initial shock - and bottle of White Zin - wore off, Contessa turned to Merlotta for help weathering the next couple of months. After all, Merlotta was the emergency relief block captain during Hurricane Ike. Her yummy tuna baked-bean and just-out-of-date cream cheese casserole saved more than a few from dry Cheerios.

"Keep 'em busy," she said, emptying my cat's litter box. "Establish a routine," she added, as I handed her the bag of Tidy Cat.


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All For Cheerleading, Stand Up and Holler

I was just telling The Big Guy how it’s that time of year when twisting and gyrating, jumping and yelling, turning back flips and cartwheels abound. In the end, there are smiles, tears and hugs of either congratulations or condolences.

“Time for Macy’s annual swimsuit sale already?” the Big Guy said, flipping the television channels during a break in the Rockets playoff game.

“No. I’m skipping that this year. Merlotta’s sewing ours. She got a great deal on slightly used blue tarps. It’s time for cheerleading tryouts and Cat is going out for the seventh grade squad.”

The Big Guy nearly spilled his beer. The last time that happened was when the doctor delivered Pinot and Grigio. After steadying his Pabst Blue Ribbon, The Big Guy channel-hopped back to the game just as the Power Dancers bumped and grinded their way onto center court. They sure had a lot of power but not much in the way of clothing. He looked at the screen, then at Cat, and then tried doling out a teachable moment.

“Real cheerleaders usually wear more than a handkerchief, and they don’t bust moves that make men dribble beer down their chins,” he said in his Cliff Huxtable voice.

“Dad, it’s a middle school tryout. Kids. Get real.” It’s amazing how far back into her head she can roll those eyes. “Oh, and two things: First, don’t say ‘bust moves.’ That’s so lame, coming from an old guy. Second, what’s a handkerchief?”

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I'm a Big Boy Now

Pinot & Grigio came in from college for the Easter weekend and were searching for food. The egg salad didn't appeal to them, what with all the green flecks on top. I told 'em it was ground celery but they weren't buying it. So we did what Contessa does best: head out to a restaurant.

Grigio got behind the wheel, Pinot jumped in beside him yelling, "Shot gun," and pointed for Contessa to hop in the back.

As if. If the bag of month-old dirty laundry wasn't enough to keep me out of the back seat, the take-out boxes marked "Hunan's Wok Surpeme" did. Since when did Chinese restaurants serve cottage cheese?

"Besides, we're adults now," Pinot said.

"Yeah, does that mean you're paying the bill?"

Pinot climbed into the back seat.

Learn a new language: Teenspeak or Menospeak?

Cat came home from school and, mindful of feeding her a healthful snack, Contessa called out, “Grab a Mountain Dew and one of those deep-fried Twinkies.” Milk and cookies are soooo overrated. “Pull up a seat and tell Dr. Phil about your day. Oh, and me, too.”

“Pretty crunk until my BFF jacked my Dr. B to bust some waterfalling. Now she’s fremeny number one.”

Um, Dr. Phil, could you please…

“Cat’s day was awesome until her best friend forever took her soda to show off and poured the drink into her mouth without letting the can or liquid touch her lips. Now she’s your daughter’s friend-enemy.”

Gotta love that Dr. Phil.

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Joking With Pinot & Grigio

Last night we got to see Pinot & Grigio in action as masters of ceremonies at their A&M choir showcase. Identical from the curls on their heads down to their curling toes, they tossed back twin jokes and comments. The only glitch came when a problem came up backstage and they had to improvise for a bit. Running out of material, they asked if anyone in the audience had a joke.

Up shot a hand from the back.

"Um, what's your joke, Contessa?"

"What's more frightening to identical twins than coming home from college for the summer and finding the locks changed?"

"Coming home from college for the summer, finding the locks changed AND job applications with their names on them."

Funny, identical twins even cry the same.

Kitchen Remodeling Begins

They come tomorrow tear out all my cabinets, appliances and counter tops. They say everything will be back in order in two weeks. Considering I won't be able to cook until they counter tops are installed, I'm all for dragging this out a few months.

Yesterday I cleaned out my cabinets. We have one over the double oven where we store our liquor. Not that we have much of the hard stuff, we both like our wine. I threw out the bottle of Greek rotgut, er, wine that was given to me at a company Christmas party in 1993. I'm hanging on to the Peppermint Schnapps and maybe the Creme de Banana. My sister bought the Creme a couple of years ago when she was visiting and whipped up Bananas Foster. That's the only time it's been used but I just noticed it measures 15% alcohol, or 30 proof. Pretty tough stuff.

The cabinet is deep, which I can barely reach even with a stepstool so stuff sorta got tossed to the back and forgotten about. That includes six corkscrews I didn't know I had, a dozen corks or so, two University of Florida shot glasses, two containers of margarita salt, and dozens of kiddie birthday candles and party decorations. Oh, yeah, lots of glueI don't remember getting any complaints from parents but from the look of that cabinets the boys birthday parties must have been the talk of Learning Tree pre-school. Chugging games, see who can open the bottle of wine the quickest, glue together the corks into a animal shape, banana splits and Greek lessons...

Inspirational Song

Heard these words belted out, Polka-fashion, from my '40s satellite radio station:

"I don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for me."
"We don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for us."

That Arthur Godfrey could melt a girl's heart, couldn't he? Something tells me this won't make the Itunes top-10 downloads any time soon.

Victoria's Dirty Little Secret

I bought a wonder-type bra a few years ago, not because I was in the mood for a little cleavage heavage but because it lifted the old boobs off my belly. Those lovelies were hand-picked off the shelves in Victoria's Secret. The boobs, not the bras. Not long afterward, I was throwing on my sweater and noticed nipples clinging to the sweater. I pushed, shoved, adjusted and the nipples wouldn't go away. Guess what? They weren't mine. They belonged to Victoria. Seems the company had built into the cups its own set of nipples. Nipples that didn't rub elbows with your belly button or tuck into your waistband, either. Nipples that wouldn't disappear. There they were, either for eternity or until the dryer ate them. And why? To make a point. Or two.