Promises, Promises

Nothing much to report. #1 son will be giving a speech tomorrow
for student council elections. It is short and sweet. Something about
he's not going to make promises about things he can't control, but
if elected, he will do his best to discuss students' concerns with the
people who DO have the power to change things. Hmm...I hope
his version is better than mine. I told him not to be disappointed if
he doesn't win, because in the 6th grade, an election becomes a
popularity contest. He is well-liked by his peers, but at this age, the
kids will vote for the candidate who promises soda in the drinking
fountains, and a free day every Friday. That's the nature of the beast.
Beasts.

We left school early today at 3:30, right after my hall duty. The
occasion for the early exit was haircuts. I used to go to a haircutting
lady who looks like Redneck Diva (without the piratey do-rag,
mateys) but I have started going to Great Clips because it is on the
way home, and convenient for those last-minute haircut decisions.
It is really HH's job to see to the haircutting of the young 'uns, but
if we wait that long, they will be 1960s models. He has not taken
the hint for the past 4 weeks, so, like everything else he neglects,
I did it.

That's not to say that HH actually cuts their hair himself. He used to,
but after a more-than-casual spilling of blood, the boys refuse to
submit to his clippers. They are lucky to have both their ears, those
sons of HH-the-Clipper! The last time I made little #2 son present
his noggin for The Butcher, I told him to get a towel to wrap around
his shoulders. It was summertime, and HH waited on the porch for
the shirtless boy to show up for shearing. The little guy (around 6
years old at the time) grabbed a towel and said, on his way to meet
his shaver..."The towel...it's to catch the blood, isn't it?" Poor little
fella. It's HIS ear that HH almost took off.

HH is the poster boy for half-a$$edness. There is the stair runner
down the steps of the old house that I told him was crooked when
he was stapling it on the third step. No, it wasn't crooked according
to HH. There are all the light switch plates and electrical outlet plates
in our Mansion, installed by HH, which lean to the right. There is the
caulking that runs from pencil-lead size at one end of the sink to
Tootsie Roll size at the other end. And I ain't talking Midgies, either.
Even HH admits that caulking is his weakness. Then there is the
door to the closet that opened IN. Hello! No closet! It took him
three years to agree that we were wasting the space, and change
the hinges. There are the nails trying to pop out of the drywall
because HH decided to rent the stuff to blow in insulation. He
used enough insulation for half the house in #2 son's room alone.
Thus, the nail-popping of the overstuffed walls. There's the
basement bathroom without running water. Except in the toilet.
Don't be thinkin' we're unsanitary--there's some GermX soap
in there.

I can't even go on. The HH half-a$$ed list overwhelms me.
It's hard work complaining all the time.