Saturday, June 21, 2008

Bright copper kettles

While we were out today, the husband turned to me after I'd made the comment that I didn't know there was such a thing as hiphop line dancing (did you?) and said "if you mention such and so, that would make a good blog post." And I said, with pique, "I don't sit around my life hoping that I can craft every experience into a blog post, you know." And HE said...well, actually, he didn't say much of anything because we both had drifted into other conversations about other things, I think with other people. Because, at the time we were saying all these things, we were sitting on picnic benches at a county park under a shelter while sheets and sheets of rain were pouring down all around us and being carried under the shelter by occasional gusts of wind, surrounded very closely by the husband's colleagues who were all equally waterlogged and eating damp cheeseburgers while huddled under this shelter and listening to random music on an impressive and now also slightly damp sound system at the wet end of his employee appreciation festivities. And THAT, my friends, seemed way more bloggable to me than the noteworthily rhythmic line dancing.

Because, it appears, I DO seem to search my life for bloggable moments. (My students would, wrongly, call this irony. But then, they like to call everything irony: omg, we're in the same English class? How ironic! You like veggie burgers too? How ironic!) I hate it when the husband is right, dang it! One friend asked me this weekend "what's new that you haven't already blogged about mercilessly?" I seem to be detecting a trend in people's opinions....'cause I'm quick like that!

IRREGARDLESS (another malapropism of which my students are fond), let me tell you about our Saturday, the pics of which are in the gallery already. We began by celebrating Father's Day. J and I discussed the matter, and we decided that it was really trite to celebrate the husband/the daddy on the same day as everyone else, so we opted to go our own way and laugh at convention. In retrospect, we realized it was a tactical error on our part not to celebrate BEFORE the traditional day, but we're new at this. J got the daddy a sweater and a t-shirt (he's an excellent bargain shopper) and I made the husband a little brag/scrapbook with some of his favorite baby/daddy pics he can take to work. It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that when I went to look at my scrapbook supplies, I realized I had a bazillion alphabets and text stickers but very few pictures of any kind, so the book is quite text-heavy. Oh well!
J also went to a birthday party for the first time (he had been invited to one earlier but had been too sick with some sort of stomach ailment to make it). He was one of three boys in a sea of girls and was not the youngest attendee, surprisingly. And we tried him in another pool, this one an inflatable baby pool filled with said girls, but he was much less thrilled with this water outing than his last, screaming as soon as I sat him down in the pool and then only grudgingly letting me put his legs in after that, as long as I help onto him firmly. He did eventually start kicking semi-happily, but a born water baby he is not. Sadly for him, we live on an island, so his exclusively landlubbing days are numbered!

Afterwards, we headed to the aforementioned employee party (did the ribs, cake, and ice cream we had at the birthday party stop me from eating a burger and chips just two hours later at the next party? Of course not!) where the husband was the "game warden," the pun of which was seemingly only apparent to me. He was supposed to lead spirited three-legged races, but it was too hot to breathe, so that idea disappeared pretty quickly. And, after an hour or so, the clouds rolled in, and, despite his boss's predictions that the storms would miss us, we were quickly inundated, resulting in the opening scene, which was punctuated periodically with some spectacular and spectacularly loud thunder and lightening. Eventually, after attempting to wait out the rain, the husband and I ran for the car, J in the car seat with the virtually useless bonnet up, covered from head to toe in a thin receiving blanket I'd found in the bottom of the diaper bag. This water, however, didn't bother him at all. Funny kid.

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