If You Give HM A Blog...

Hillbilly Mom has been busy today, my friends. As busy as a beaver.
A beaver without a G-string. I did not have time to go to town and
pick up my well-strung guitar. That will have to wait until Monday.

I arose at the crack of 5:15 and began my arduous tasks. First on
the agenda was to check #1 son's pants. Not like that. He wore his
school clothes to play in yesterday after school, and promptly fell
down and grass-stained his new pair of khaki jeans. Last night I
made a paste of Tide and let them sit. Then I ran them through the
washer and let them sit a couple hours. Then I made more Tidepaste.
I washed those suckers 3 times last night, and twice again this morning
after I got some SHOUT gel. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I know,
it would have been cheaper to buy him another pair of jeans than to
spend all that Tide and electricity and SHOUT on them. But hey,
water is FREE at the Mansion.

Next, I made a shopping list and chucked boy #2 into the shower. By
7:00 a.m., #2 son and I were on our way to The Devil's Playground
to do the shopping. #1 remained at home, to be driven to town by an
oddly-unworking HH to be picked up by his girlfriend's family for a
trip to 6 Flags Frightfest. It is free. They have rain checks from the
summer when some rides were shut down due to lightning. Anyhoo,
#2 and I shopped, and returned home by 9:00. I commenced to stow
away the spoils of the trip, and clean toilets galore (3, count 'em: 3
toilets used by boys and man), write out some bills, throw in two
loads of laundry with the Jeans o' Grass, make two finals for school
this week, and get #2 son ready to go bowling.

In making up my finals, I found that my Liquid Paper Correction Pen
was a bloated, useless poser. There was no liquid coming out of that
thing any time soon. So after eating a pound of fries at the bowling
alley (hey, we all three shared them), I ventured back to The Devil's
Playground for another pen of the teacher's best friend. While there,
I also bought some mechanical pencils, because I truly love those
gadgets and can't get enough of them. Papermate, not those creepy
yellow Bic ones. Then I had to have some glue sticks, because sure
as I got home and tried to use the one in the drawer, it would be all
glued shut, or dried out like a piece of that clear stuff they use to
stick the cardboard cover on the JC Penney Christmas Catalog.
As I headed up the aisle to the check-out, I spied some winter coats
in the boys department. I had to buy two, because, well, you can't
let one boy go cold, and also, if you wait until it is really cold, colder
than the 24 degrees it has been for the last two mornings, the coat
rack will be empty except for the broken-zippered losers. Then I
saw the jeans rack in the men's department, where I got my boy's
Jeans o' Grass, because he is now into adult sizes, 29 30, which is
somewhat hard to find, and I found a pair of cheap jeans for him
to wear when he's in falling down mode, and threw in a pair of gray
ones just because they had them in his size.

I didn't have a cart, because I was still bitter about my cart this
morning, which veered to the right every time I was not on task,
and why would I need a cart, since I only went in there to buy
a correction pen? As I stepped out onto the main aisle with my
arms full of correction pens (you can't just buy one, you know,
you have to have one for home and one to carry in your free
Office Max black school tote bag) and mechanical pencils and
glue sticks and two puffy winter coats and two pairs of jeans,
I heard a woman holler: "Is your name Hillbilly Mom?" So I
admitted to it, and she said, "Do you remember me?" which
I hate because the answer is always NO (make a note-to-self,
all of you) because I can never remember names and faces, but
ask me a question about a book and I will quote the line exactly,
and tell you where it falls on the page. So this woman turns out
to be someone I went to grade school with. I don't know why
she looked so OLD, but my point here is that she was wearing
dark, mirrored sunglasses and she is not even a celebrity, and
how am I suppose to recognize someone when I can't even get
a peep into the windows of her soul? We chatted a bit, while
her husband played 5th wheel, and then I lugged my booty to
the checkout.

I grabbed my three puffy bags and headed for the Large SUV
without a cart, because why would I need one? As I crossed the
last gauntlet of parked cars before my LSUV, I heard, "#2 Son's
Mom!" Of course I turned, and saw a staff member from my boy's
school. We chatted for about 20 minutes standing behind parked
cars, chill wind whipping our colored hair, her with an empty cart,
me with my three puffy bags. Then I made a run for it, looking
neither right nor left, and stashed the bags in the back of the LSUV,
where they had the company of some items left from this morning.

I had to email my buddy Mabel with some vital information, then
sat down to write this post. HH is lighting a pile of wood chips in
the grill. Not charcoal, or BBQ wood chips. He picked up some
dead limbs and mangled them, because #2 wants to have a hot
dog and marshmallow cookout. Of course he gets his way, because
it is OH SO PEACEFUL here at the one-boy Mansion today.

Tonight I have to finish up those other 3 finals, because tomorrow
I have tricked my Hillbilly Mama into watching the boys while HH
and I go to the casino.

Hey! She's just glad no G-string is involved.