Sunday, April 18

Chuck E. Cheese sterilizes, ergonomic shoes kill my wallet, and Catholic Mass could use naptime.

You may know her as Mommy McD.  I know her as a built-in therapist, with a side of shoe shopaholic-ness, and the ability to pour a good glass of wine.  Welcome to my weekend.  Please, stay awhile.

Saturday was spent at a 3-year-old's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.  One word: Painful.  The pain didn't stem from hanging out with my favorite family on the East Coast, but by spending multiple hours in Babyville.  Preschool this, ear infections that.  Bor-ing.  As I said at the party..."I like my eggs fried with a side of bacon, not fertilized with a side of morning sickness."

Highlights:  The McD offspring were beyond adorable and well-behaved.  This cannot be said about other offspring in the facility.  I swore I was going to twist a knee trying to avoid all the "pet humans" (as the Sheriff calls them [children]).  Parents, please pay attention to your Proof of Procreation.  Because I don't mind continuing to walk in my path while your child plays chicken with an oncoming train.  I won't stop.  And in the game of who's bigger, Aunt Bop vs. 5-year-old...I'll win.  And no, I won't care I ran over your child.  They're called leashes, implement them if you have to.

Lowlights:  Getting smoked by Mommy McD in ski ball.  The woman knows her bowling motion.  I think I'd get better with a beverage.  But Chuck E. Cheese is not a Dave and Busters.  So next time I'll need to flask it.

So today, Mommy McD and I went shopping.  Well, in all actuality, we went purchasing.  Because the Shoe Gods were with us this time and blessed us with multiple pairs of ergonomic shoes.  Because we don't like our knees to hurt.  And hips to hurt.  And heels to hurt.  Because we run.  That provides us with enough pain as is.  No need to add insult to fashion injury.  Because I'd even give myself dirty looks for using Ben Gay for the aches and pains from a pair of cheap shoes.

And have you ever been to Catholic Mass?  I haven't, until this evening.  It was...interesting.  I knew it had a lot of up and down, down and up, kneel, and stand, hands up, shake hands with strangers, crackers and juice, head nod, and over.  And that was pretty much it.  Except the part where the speakers/preacher/priest/head robe-wear-er bored me to sleep.  Almost.  This guy...not a keynote speaker.  If it weren't for the workout of the Catholic Mass, I would have started snoring at 20 minutes in.  Thankfully Mommy McD and Daddy McD were in agreeance, so I'm not just talking out of my ass too much.

But enough of the yacking, time for photographic documentation of 2 of my 3 favorite babies (the Little Man is now an honorary member of such a lucky club even if I haven't met him).

Because mohawks are awesome.

I'm laying on my back while he stabs my knee.  Awesome.

And the stipulations of an Aunt Bop piggie back include 3 emo pictures...starting now.

Then Mommy McD takes over the camera...

He doesn't quite get the "blue steel" reference.

So I'll be heading home tomorrow.  Yes, a Monday.  Because I have the time off available (it's amazing the time off you can accrue from all my overtime), and why not spend it on a vacation?  Even if the destination is only 2.5 hours away.  And I'm a firm believer in having a 3-day weekend at least once a month.  It's a necessity in my book.  Because otherwise the cranky Ging blogger would live on.  And there are enough angry bloggers in the world.

No comments:

Post a Comment